Exploding Prayer
Stories are supposed to have some sort of back story that leads up to main concept of it.
Whether that's certain events, or times, big (or small) moments in the characters lives.
Key factors that somehow blend everything together as the story progresses.
Well, if it wasn't for these first few events that I will be writing about, none of this would have ever come into existence.
I can't remember the exact year, month, or even where these events took place, but these certain moments I clearly recall.
They have made me who I have now become.
I'd like to share just one with you at the moment. But I promise there are more to come.
1: Christmas morning. The most exciting day of the year for well, almost everyone I know. And for me, it has always been my favorite holiday.
I don't remember what year it was. But I was young. Somewhere between age 5 and 9. I may not remember the year, but I remember everything else.
It was a typical Christmas in Powell, TN. A bit chilly, winter warning in effect, with occasional snow flurries fluttering their way to the ground. Quick to melt upon impact.
We were poor. Dirt poor. Cashing food stamp checks at the local grocery store poor to cover our food expenses. My mother, I, and my two brothers.
A one bedroom trailer, where the heater had a hard time competing with the coldness that being in a trailer brings in winter.
My mother had a bed, and we occasionally took turns sleeping there, or on the floor, because not all of us could fit on it.
But with this being Christmas morning, all of us jumped up for joy when we woke up. Taking turns waking one another up as our screams penetrated throughout the trailer park.
I was the first to peek out of the bedroom into our living room to see what Santa had dropped off for us. The moment I looked out, my eyes lit up.
In fear.
There was someone in our living room.
I leaned back, whispering, "there's someone out there." They heard me, but didn't hear what I said.
"What?" My mother replied.
I looked again.
Still there.
But I had never seen anything like it before. But I knew it was a person.
Then, it was as if my mind took a screenshot of what I was seeing as I leaned back, and spoke again. Still in a whisper.
"There's someone out there."
My mother quickly got up and walked out there and came back.
"No, there's not."
Puzzled, I said, "yes there is."
I looked out again.
Nothing but a lit Christmas tree stuffed underneath with whatever presents that year had brought in for us.
My brothers started rushing out there.
"Dont!" Too late. They don't listen as I sat there in fear, puzzled and confused all at the same time.
"And what did you see?" My mother asked as she could see on my face, I was serious. I saw someone. Something.
"A lady."
"What?" She replied.
"A lady. In blue. Blue long sleeve top. Blue dress. White ribbon thing around her head and waist. "
"And what was she doing?" My mother asked, I could sense the sarcasm in her voice. She didn't believe me.
"She was kneeling. Praying by the tree."
"How do you know she was praying?" She asked.
So I got on my knees, interlocked my hands, and showed her.
"Yeah, ok. Get out there with your brothers."
That frustrated me. Not that she wanted me to go get my presents which I had been excited for all year, but because she didn't believe me.
I work my way to the delivery area, where Santa dropped off whatever items he picked up from the dollar store this year.
Knock. Knock.
My mother answers the door.
It was our neighbor. Her friend. Who was bringing over atleast 1 gift for each of us. One of her guy friends.
She began talking to him and I could hear in the background...
"My oldest was saying he saw someone praying by the tree just before we came out here..."
I interrupted: "I did."
Not even looking their way.
"What did they look like?" He asked.
I began telling him, while opening presents and hoping my voice echoed enough to him behind me.
He obviously hears me as he interrupts me by saying..." wait, you mean her?"
I immediately spin around.
He is pulling a few Christmas cards out of his Bible and on the front of one of the cars is Mary. Jesus' mother.
In the same exact outfit I was describing to both my mother and him.
"Yes! That's her!"
Both my mother and him immediately take their eyes off of me and look at one another.
I watched their stomach sink.
I had never seen a picture of Mary, Jesus, or anything even close to that before this moment.
My mother was a single mother, by her own choice, and since she was into witchcraft and all that nonsense, we had never set foot into a church before this moment.
So for me to describe what I saw, in detail, she had to have started second guessing her belief system if even for just that one second before she went back to her other beliefs.
2 days later we are visiting another one of her friends, some older lady who lived behind us, just across the small, dried up creek.
Atleast half the size of a football field away, separated by trees growing in the empty creek area.
*Boom!
We hear a loud noise.
But we blow it off.
Gunshot noises weren't constant, but we became familiar with that noise.
Only this time, we were wrong.
"Probably one of that drug deals gone bad again." My mother's friend said as they quickly blew off the loud noise.
30 minutes go by. A knock at the door of the friends house were hanging out at.
"Thank God you guys are safe." The lady cries out as the door opens and she sees us.
My mother replies laughing, "what do you mean?"
"You don't know...."
"No.?" My mother replies.
"That loud noise, was your trailer. Something exploded and your trailer is gone."
All three of us boys rush outside, not knowing what she meant. My mother and her friends are following behind at a much slower pace.
Firetruck. Police cars. Water. Lots of water. And our trailer....
Completely burnt.
A firefighter comes out carrying one of our teddy bears.
He hands it to me.
"This is the only thing left inside. Everything else is gone. I'm sorry. "
All of us began crying.
That event sticks with me.
But the memory that sticks even more, and comes to my attention almost on a weekly basis since that event some 20 to 25 years ago, is this.
What I saw in our living room two days before.
Mary. Jesus' mother. (Or what I perceived to be her based on my description and what we saw on that card) praying, in our living room. In front of the couch and the Christmas tree.
We found out later on, that that couch, the electric outlet behind it, is where they pinpointed the origin of the fire. I don't remember any other details but that.
Had we not gone over to a neighbors house when we did that day, we probably would have all died.
That was the first event that truly impacted my life. My memory. And left a lasting impression on my soul.
The first of many.
Each way, crazier than the last. But so deep. It might help you see things a little differently.
There is a reason you are reading this today.
God knew you would be reading this right now. He wants you to know, He loves you.
He will protect you. As He did me.
Let Him speak to you through my stories and how He has impacted my life. In hopes that He can reach your heart.
- Shalom.