Go With God

 Good morning, readers,

It rained last night. I woke to the gentle patter of raindrops on the roof and skylight. I didn't know it was supposed to rain.

Yesterday was a good day. I painted the primer on a window that all had forgotten needed painted. Got the rest of the floor laid in the sewing room. Some of that I actually did myself which was rather fun. A friend came over after lunch, and he and my dad got all the trim up that they could do in that room. One place in the closet we have to find out from the guy who is going to build shelves if the baseboard should be on there or not. And in the room, we have to get a few other boards painted to go around the cabinet they put in. But wow! It sure doesn't look like our house any more! Very exciting. In the evening my dad and I cut and sanded the boards for my parents' room. They need primed and painted.

But, not only did a lot of work get done on the house, but I wrote! Yes, I did. It was only 341 words, but that's so much more than none at all.

Today the grandkids are coming over to spend the day. They haven't seen the house since we got sheetrock up. We are going to put a few pieces of furniture together that will go in the sewing room. And who knows what else. But before they come I'm going to work on filling in all the nail holes and cracks between the trim pieces. 

Our goal was to get my sister moved back downstairs today, but we decided not to try. Since the room isn't completely done, and she's too busy with orders to take time to move now, and she doesn't want to be trying to sew when construction is still going on down there, we'll wait. But that's okay. We made great progress. Now we can focus on getting the master bedroom done. Then we'll have the hall. But that might wait a bit.

Anyway, that's been my week. Here's a short little story I wrote back in July.

 Go With God

    The late summer sunshine came through a hazy layer of clouds and a breeze tossed the young man’s brown hair making him shiver.
    Samuel hugged himself to try and ward off the chill of the mountain air. “You’d think that being higher like this and closer to the sun it would be warmer not colder,” he said to the towering pine tree beside him.
    The tree shook its branches as though laughing at the idea, and Samuel had to smile too.
    Pausing on the rocky outcropping overlooking a vast panorama of mountains with sharp ridges and blanketed by pines, Samuel sighed and the smile left his face as one thumb slipped over the strap which held is precious guitar on his back.
    “Uncle James said it takes pluck to move on after a loss like mine. But it’s not pluck, it’s God. I know I’ll see my sisters again and my parents. I didn’t always act like I believed it though. Fourteen is a hard age to lose the ones you love most. If it weren’t for Miss Hope and my music I wouldn’t have made it these last three years.”
    His hands gently rubbed the red knit sweater Miss Hope had made for him before he left to seek a life beyond the small village and farms hidden in the valley. He knew he’d always be grateful to her for sending out letters for him and finding a place in a music shop with one of her cousins.
    “Remember, Samuel,” she had told him before he left, “your musical talent is not something you acquired by your own effort. It’s a gift from God. Always use it for His glory.”
    Samuel had promised. How could he not when Miss Hope had pointed him back to the Savior and the peace He offered after the tragic railway accident?
    Gently lifting the strap of his guitar over his head, he sat down and gently began to strum the strings. His music blended with the sighing of the pines and the rustle of grass. He would rest a few minutes before picking up his duffel bag and setting down the other side of the mountain to the bus stop which would take him away from the mountains, the farms, and from those who had taken him under their wing.
    “Go with God, Samuel,” Miss Hope had said, her eyes brimming with tears but a smile on her lips. “And write often.”
    “I will. Goodbye.”
    With one final strum of the strings, Samuel rose, settle his instrument on his back and returned to the path where he picked up his bag and set for once again.
 

Have you had an exciting day this week?

 Did you do any writing?

What do you think happened to Samuel?