The Word of God - Rhema and Logos

I was listening to a sermon the other day on KHYM; I'm pretty sure it was Dr. David Jeremiah preaching.  At any rate, that week he had been going through Ephesians 6, about the armor of God.  His focus this time was on Ephesians 6:17: "And take THE HELMET OF SALVATION, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." 
Now, most times when we hear "the word of God", we think of the whole Bible, which is what the word 'Logos' means.  However, there is another word that is translated into the English language as "word" as well, and that is 'Rhema'.  Rhema is the word used in Ephesians 6:17, and "A rhema is a verse or portion of Scripture that the Holy Spirit brings to our attention with application to a current situation or need for direction." (Advanced Training Institute International online)
In other words, whereas 'logos' is the whole Bible, 'rhema' is talking about a specific verse or passage.  Knowing this, it brought a whole new light to the Ephesians passage for me.  To wield the sword of the Spirit, we don't just need to have our Bible handy at all times, but we need to actually know verses and passages that we can immediately bring up at the appropriate times. 
I just thought I'd share that; it's something I'd never known before and I found it very convicting!  It's amazing how much you can learn by getting into the etymology of words and finding out what they really mean!

Have a wonderful week, and a great Fourth of July!

Josie

Weekly Newsletter

Happy Summer, everyone! I'm guessing most of us will be busy this week with the 4th coming up, so I totally understand if you don't volunteer this week. I'll be making a wedding cake for the first time also, so I might not get much posted either. Thankfully, Kelpie pre-volunteered to post a story for this week, so you can look forward to that.

- Story (Kelpie)

- Tip Tuesday (Volunteer needed)

- Word Wednesday (Volunteer needed)

- Devotional (Volunteer needed)

- Who Am I? (Volunteer needed)




Oh, and by the way, a little bird told me someone's birthday is this week. Happy Birthday, Faith!


"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13 (NIV)

Guardian - Part 5

Children danced in the streets, their shadows flickering in the firelight. Musicians struck up a lively tune on their flutes, and someone began to sing. Soon the whole square was a light with music and dancing. Paul tapped his foot to the beat of the ancient song. Yes, he'd known this tune since he was a child.

“The King is my strength, my rock in troubled times.

My soul will sing his deeds, and my heart will magnify.

Lifting up his body, and laying down his sword,

He will rescue me from danger, and pay the ransom for my life.”

Paul's heart swelled with pride as he watched his daughter Lilith join the dancers, her feet moving gracefully to the music. Her voice rose above the other girls, and a light twinkled in her eyes. She was watching someone. Paul followed her gaze to a group of young men. One towheaded boy towered above the rest. Micah.

He couldn't decide whether he should pull his daughter from the dancers or confront the youth. Anger still raged inside Paul, even though he knew the boy wasn't guilty. He'd been angry for so long, he didn't know how to let it go. The King's hand on his arm forced him to break away from his thoughts.

“Something bothering you?” He squinted at Paul in the torch light.

“I still don't trust that boy,” Paul mumbled.

The King glanced at Micah with a frown. “He was your hired hand?”

Paul nodded.

“It seems he certainly is looking for trouble. Brave young man though. We could certainly use young men like him in our ranks.” The King cleared his throat and snapped his fingers, motioning to a man nearby. “Barlow, bring the drinks.”

Paul watched the man slip back into Ada's Tavern, soon returning with others at his heels. They lugged ale barrels through the door into the street. Ada herself followed the barrels, her eyes watchful slits. When her gaze fell upon the King, she approached, a smile stretching across her face. “We have food and drink for everyone, just as you ordered, O King.” She gave a slight bow.

The King beamed and leaned close, whispering something in her ear. Paul tried to catch the words, but the music drowned them out. Finally, the King leaned back, stepping close to a barrel. He pounded his fist against its belly. When that wasn't enough, he snatched the dagger from his belt and banged the barrel with the hilt. The crowd hushed, and the musicians lowered their flutes.

The King smiled. “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I know you've long awaited this day. I only wish it could have come sooner, but now, let us not dwell in the dark memories of the past, but rejoice in present, for deliverance is at hand. Soon your crops will grow green again and your homes rebuilt. No longer will raiders rob you of your children, of your possessions, and of your joy. Come, let us celebrate. Ada has provided food and drink for us all.”

With one voice the crowd cheered, and the ale barrels were opened. Paul's hear drummed in his chest. This wasn't right. The elder King had always discouraged drink, and now his son was supporting it? The picture was wrong, all wrong, as the King filled a mug himself. He lifted it to Paul. “Come, general, wipe that sour frown of your face.”

Paul accepted the mug with sweaty fingers, before glancing back to where his wife stood among the crowd, little Elaine on her hip. No, he couldn't do this. He had to prove to his wife that he was a man, a faithful father, but the King stood over him waiting. Paul lifted the foamy liquid to his lips, but forced himself not to drink. The King, however, seemed satisfied. He turned and filled another cup, this time giving it to Carlos.

All at once the music began again, but all the more lively. Now the people sang of summer, of green crops, and of life. The girls began to dance again, their steps faster. The scene only disturbed Paul. To his relief, Lilith had slipped away and was standing with her Mother.

Paul continued his charade, lifting his mug to his lips whenever he believed the King was watching him. Lissa watched him too, her frown deepening by the minute. Go home, Paul tried to message through his eyes, but she looked away every time their gazes met.

Now what? Paul thought. Chaos would ensue before long. Why, even children were gathering around the ale barrels. Realization dawned on him as eyed the King and tavern keeper. Neither of them drank nor ate, but served. And there, another man, one who had ridden with the King earlier, wasn't drinking either. In fact, most the men he'd seen with the King from the beginning were apart from the crowd, laughing among themselves. And they all had sheathed swords at their sides. All except for Carlos.

Paul gripped his old friend's arm. “Does anything look suspicious to you?” he whispered.

Carlos lowered his mug and peered down at him. Paul saw, with relief, that his friend's mug was still full. “Everything,” Carlos hissed. “Everything looks wrong. From the ale barrels to the King himself. I'm beginning to wonder if that scrawny brat did know what he was talking about.”

Paul nodded, although he wasn't sure he was ready to admit Micah was right. “What are we going to do?”

Carlos shook his head. “I don't have a clue. The whole town will be in a drunken stupor before we know it.”

“Perfect time for a raid,” Paul muttered. The men's eyes locked and silent words passed between them.

“Get your family out of here.” Carlos nudged Paul forward.

“What about you?” Paul spun around.

His friend's eyebrows furrowed, determined. “I'm going to find that boy. See what else he knows.”

The men parted, Paul splitting to the right, and Carlos to the left. It didn't take long to locate Lissa, her disapproving frown sticking out like a sore thumb among the party. Paul grabbed her hand. She jerked away, glaring at the ale still in his hand. Paul let the mug slide to the ground. It clinked against the gravel, and ale splashed onto his boots. “Let's go home, Lissa.”

His wife's eyes softened, and she nodded. “Lilith, gather the children.”

Paul's eldest daughter grasped Amos and Arnon's hands and scanned the crowd. Her eyes widened. “Papa, I don't know where Ernan is!”

Frustration balled Paul's hands into fists. Not again! That boy always had a way of disappearing at the wrong time. “Go on home, Lissa, I'll find him.”

Paul weaved back through the crowd, his eyes scanning every child over four feet tall. None had Ernan's face. Finally he made his way back to the ale barrels. No. Rage shook through Paul's body, and like lightening he split through the crowd and jerked his son to his feet.

Ernan's eyes widened in surprise, and ale dribbled down his chin. “What's wrong, Papa?” he asked innocently.

“You know exactly what is wrong, young man!” Paul yanked the mug from his son's grip and slammed it to the ground.

A funny sound gurgled in Ernan's throat, and his eyes rolled into his head. Then snapped back, fiery and green. An unearthly cackle shook it's way out of the boy's chest.

No, no, no. Paul let his son slump back to the ground. “Someone, please, help!”

The crowd only cackled in response, lifting their mugs to their faces. Fear shivered up Paul's spine. He knew that sound. Yes, he'd heard it the day the raiders burned the castle and dragged away the King. He'd heard it the night he was robbed of his horse, the night his neighbor's barn was ablaze, the nights he spent in the tavern. Wait. The tavern? Paul shook his head. How was this all coming back to him now? Visions of Ada filling his mug, whispering into his ear, him stealing into the night, his fingers digging into the soil and lifting an ebony box from the ground. Paul glanced at his fingernails. Dirt was lodged deep beneath them, every single one of them.

No, no, no. It can't be! Paul collapsed to his knees, pressing his hands over his ears. He had to block out the laughter, block out the memories, block out the shame. He'd given the sword to Ada, and Ada had given the sword to this king, whoever he was. What a fool he was! The ale had been poisoned all along. He had to tell Carlos, and warn the people, but oh, it was too late. Paul glanced back at his son, sprawled on the street and clawing at the ground. A sob caught in Paul's throat.

A hand touched his shoulder, and he jerked his head up. The king stood above him, a smug smile on his face. He extended a mug. “Need more ale, my friend?”

Paul knocked the king's hand away. Ale splattered the ground, but the crowd didn't seem to notice. Paul glared at the king. “I don't want your drink, and I don't want your party. You are not my friend, and you are definitely not my king.”

The king's eyes narrowed. “Ada, I think my general needs a stronger drink.”

The woman appeared at his side, a large mug in hand. She leered at Paul, and then cackled. “You fool. No one refuses my drink.”

Paul jumped to his feet, intending to run, but the sound of metal scraping metal froze him in his tracks. The king thrust a smoking black blade under is chin. Curling up from the sword, the smoke drifted into Paul's face, stinging is eyes. Paul trembled. When had the king retrieved the sword?

“You will drink,” the king spat in his face. Two large hands forced Paul's jaw open. He struggled against them, but the sword pricked his skin, sending a searing pain through his neck. Paul found himself paralyzed and helpless. He couldn't move a single finger, bat a single eyelid. Ada leered over him, pouring the foaming liquid into his gaping mouth. The ale hit his throat, burning, tingling, urging him to swallow. But Paul wouldn't. He couldn't. The king pricked him again, this time deeper. Paul gasped in pain, choking down the ale.

The hands released Paul, and the king stepped back, sheathing his sword. Ada's hand fell, and she set the ale to the side. Paul's vision blurred. A warm tingling filled his body, and the ground rocked. Paul cradled his head. No, he couldn't let the ale take him.

“It's really such a pity, Paul,” the king circled around him. “That the smart ones like you are the ones I'll have to kill first. You were useful for awhile, you know, but now, I don't think I need you anymore. Now if you will cooperate...”

“N-never,” Paul gasped.

The king drew his sword. “You say that again I'll kill you on the spot.”

Paul drew back, attempting to avoid the curling smoke. The king stepped closer, blade ready.

“Stop!” a voice shouted. “In the name of the one true King, stop!” Micah pushed through the crowd, Carlos at his tail.

The king sneered, swinging his blade under the boy's nose. “I was wondering when you would show up, Your Highness. Have you come to save the day?” He playfully swiped at Micah's head. “Whoops, it seems you've lost your sword.”

“The King's sword cannot be lost.”

The king rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Your guardian gave it away. Now what are you going to do?”

Micah held the king's stare. “Again, you have forgotten the law.” Taking a deep breath, the boy stepped forward. He grasped the smoking blade and tilted it toward his chest.

The king gawked. Then he chuckled, an evil chuckle. “What good will a sword be to you if you are dead?”

Micah just blinked through the smoke, tears forming in his eyes.

“But I must say,” the king continued, tracing an x across Micah's tunic with the tip of his sword. “I would really enjoy seeing you dead.” The king laughed, trailing his sword down one side of Micah's face. The boy winced. Smiling, the king spoke in a hushed voice. “You know, I won't allow you the privilege of a quick and easy death.”

Still, Micah said nothing. A trail of blood trickled down his jaw line.

“Well, okay, I suppose if you really want this.” The king turned away and then spun around, whacking Micah's head with the pommel of sword. The boy stumbled to the ground.

Carlos rushed to his side, but the king swung at him. “Stay back, unless you want to die now too.”

Paul heard the king strike Micah again, harder this time. He winced inwardly at the dull thud, but then he couldn't focus. The ground was rocking again, and his eyelids felt so heavy. Paul groped in the blackness, and finally, gave in.

<><><><>

“Paul.” Hands shook his arms and splashed water on his face. “Paul, wake up!

Paul lifted his head, looking into the anxious face of his friend. Lissa stood on his other side, grasping his hand.

“Where am I? What's going on?”

Carlos glanced at Lissa, then back at Paul and sighed. “Do you remember anything that happened last night?”

“The-the king. There was a party.”

“Yes, yes, what else?”

“Ale,” Paul murmured. “Lots of it.” His eyes widened. “Ernan? Is he okay?”

Lissa nodded. “He doesn't remember anything, except a party.”

Paul jerked to sitting position. “Micah, what about Micah?”

Carlos' eyes clouded. Pain crossed his face. “He's dead, Paul. Deader than stone. That phony king beat him to a bloody pulp and slung his body over the castle wall. He's taken up residence there. His men stalk the streets, pillaging homes and robbing shops.”

“We must gather men -” Paul attempted to stand. “- And force them from the streets.”

Lissa shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “Paul, it's useless. We've no weapons, and most our able bodied men were imprisoned during their drunken stupor last night. Carlos has questioned neighbors and friends. They remember nothing but the party, and then awakening to a pillaged town.”

Paul fell back, shock numbing his mind. “It's all my fault.” A sob finally broke through his chest. “All my fault. If only I'd stayed away from the tavern, if only I'd seen the king for who he was, if only I had believed Micah.”

Lissa squeezed his hand. “If only we all had the eyes to see and hearts to believe.”

Together they sat in silence for awhile, except for the children, whom Paul could hear playing somewhere above him. “What is this place?” Paul finally asked, wiping the tears from his face and studying the dark walls around him.

“An abandoned barn. We had to hide. The king is looking for us. He wants us dead.” Carlos' words were bitter.

“But why? We can't do anything to him, not when he has that sword.”

“That's just it,” Carlos said. “He doesn't have the sword. The moment Micah's breath left his body, the sword was rendered useless, a dull and ordinary blade. The king cannot wield it.”

“Where is the sword now?” A light dawned in Paul's head.

Carlos reached his hand into a dusty pile of straw, withdrawing a silver blade. Paul excepted it with trembling hands. “Why, it's not black any more.” Dried blood still smeared the weapon, all the way down to the hilt, but an unmistakable silver twinkled in dim light. “He bought it back with his blood,” Paul whispered.

“What do you mean?” Lissa leaned forward.

“Micah,” Paul murmured. “He was the true King, and he bought the sword back through his death.” Tears welled in his eyes again. “Lissa, I turned the King of Kings out on the streets.”

“You didn't know, Paul.”

“But I did,” Paul sobbed. “I did. Every time he spoke, something stirred deep within me, calling me to respect him, give him the honor he was due, but Lissa, I hated him for it. My heart did not want to recognize a quiet, awkward, towheaded youth as my king. I dreamed of a warrior, an orator, a hero, not a servant.”

“So did we, Paul.” Carlos squeezed his shoulder. “So did we.”

“...And he saved my life,” Paul continued. “Despite what I did to him.” His body trembled with sobs again. Lissa cradled her husband's head, tears trickling down her own cheeks. Carlos stood not far off, his shoulders slumped and head bowed.

<><><><>

Dawn was just peeking over the horizon as Paul threw his last shovel of dirt over the spot. He'd done this before, twenty-nine years ago, but this time, he wasn't burying a sword. No, this time he was burying a King. Carlos stood on the opposite side of the grave, his hand resting on Lilith's shoulder. The girl swiped tears from her cheeks, her eyes glistening in the early light.

Paul had been afraid their night mission would be too much for her to stomach, but the girl had insisted on coming, at least for the burial. Paul wiped the sweat from his brow and reached for the burlap sack at Carlos' feet. He withdrew the sword, still smeared in blood. Overwhelming sorrow and gratefulness swelled in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the hilt and drove the blade into the soil at the foot of the grave.

Silent words passed between the three, and they turned, disappearing into the woods.

<><><><>

Paul, his wife and children, and Carlos gathered around a meager meal of a few tiny fish. They ate in silence, jumping at the sound of the wind whipping around the barn walls. They couldn't continue to live like this, fearing every second they'd be found. Paul wanted to move his family farther away, but he didn't want to risk being spotted.

Rain pounded the roof now, leaking in a few places. Thunder crashed, and Elaine crawled into Paul's lap, burying her head into his chest. “It's all right, dear. It's only a storm,” Paul reassured her.

But then something banged against the door. Paul's heart drummed with fear. He transferred Elaine to Lissa's lap and grabbed a pitchfork from the wall. Carlos stood beside him, his hands balled into fists. Another bang slammed the door. Whoever was out there was trying to break in. Paul motioned for his family to hide, and he and Carlos approached the door.

Swoosh. The doors flew open, wind and raindrops ushering in a tattered figure. Paul raised his weapon, and Lilith screamed. “Papa, don't!” But Paul was already hurdling forward.

A flash of white flew out of the stranger's tattered folds, knocking Paul to the ground. Paul blinked a few times at the glowing sword pointed at his face. His eyes trailed up the blade and up the arm, all the way to the stranger's face. Paul blinked again. “Micah?”

The boy lowered the sword. His face was marred and dirty, and his blonde hair was matted with dry blood. But he had those gray eyes, the long nose, the scrawny frame – he was undoubtedly Micah.

Paul looked away, and trembling, bowed his face to the ground. “H-how?”

Micah touched his shoulder. “Our enemy forgot another part of the law.”

Paul jerked his head up. The boy was smiling. “The true King does not stay dead.”

Of course. Joy rippled through Paul's body, and his eyes filled with tears. He grasped Micah's feet. “My King.”

Carlos also still knelt on the ground, his eyes wide. Lilith flew past him, her arms open wide. “Micah!”

The King returned her embrace and then greeted the other children, his eyes twinkling a new light.

“Tell us a story!” Amos bounced around his feet.

“Yeah.” Arnon tugged on his tattered tunic. “What happened to you?”

“Where did you get that sword?” Ernan's eyes were saucers. He reached out to touch the blade.

Lissa swatted his hand away. “For goodness' sake, children! Leave him alone. What he needs right now is good bath and a bed.”

The King laughed, the noise lighting up the barn. “Maybe later, but right now...” he glanced at Paul and Carlos. “It's time to see what this sword can do.”

 Paul stood, grasping his pitchfork. “I'm ready. Let's go.”

__________________________

Thanks for reading, everyone, and I hope you enjoyed it! It didn't end exactly how I planned, but I think I still got my point across :)

Guardian - Part 4

The King swooped down upon him before he could make another move. Paul bowed low, fear trembling his body. Now the King would strike him, imprison him, maybe even hang him. He'd never believed Paul all along. The crowd held their breaths in expectation. But nothing happened. Maybe the King was waiting for him to speak?

“Your Majesty, I swear, once again, I never opened the case or gave the sword to anyone. I don't understand it in light of the ancient law, but I beg of you, believe me. If there is anything I can do to prove -” Paul felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see the King, his brown eyes twinkling.

“Oh, Paul, I never once doubted you.”

“Y-you didn't? I mean, you believe me?”

The King smiled, nodding his bearded chin.

Paul collapsed in disbelief. “Oh … I – b-but how?”

The King extended a hand and pulled Paul to his feet. “The sword was never given to you, Paul.”

“What?”

“The case was empty when my father gave it to you.” The King's gaze swept the room now, his voice raising to keep their attention. “Think, all of you. Why would a king bestow the whole power of the kingdom upon a commoner he had never met? He had no need to hide the sword from raiders who couldn't steal it or wield it.”

“Then why give me the case and key?”

“A test.” The King spun around, mounting the stage. “Every King desires subjects he can trust. Men he can appoint as rulers, advisers, counselors, and -” He let his words hang for a minute and motioned for Paul to come forward. “... and friends.” He put an arm around him. “Paul, you have passed the test. I hereby appoint you chief officer and general of my men.”

Paul's face turned crimson, and he eyed the ground. “Your Majesty, I don't deserve...”

The King gripped his shoulder. “Yes, you do.” His eyes had not yet lost its twinkle. “This man,” he addressed the crowd again. “Since he was only a boy, hid my father's key and sword, telling no one of it's whereabouts. He himself never opened the case, respecting the man who entrusted it to him. If he had, he would have known it was empty, and when I faced him with the unknown fact, he didn't invent clever stories to get himself out of the mess, but vowed to find it. Listen and learn. Men like him are ones I desire in my court.”

The King removed the purple cloak from around his neck and flung it around Paul's shoulders. The crowd erupted into cheers. Paul's chest swelled with pride, but something deep inside still urged him to speak up. When the noise from people faded, he cleared his throat. “But your Majesty, how do you have the sword? You said it was given to someone besides it's rightful owner.”

“My older brother. My father gave the sword to him, to reconquer our kingdom, but my brother had evil intentions. A higher evil had been messing with his mind, and he was tricked into passing the sword on to another, more evil than he.”

“Then how did you get it?” Carlos spoke up now, doubt underlying in his tone.

“Everyone has some good in them. Repentance is not far off for most.”

Awe rippled through the audience. Murmurs of, “Isn't he wonderful?” resounded through the room.

Paul, too, was in awe as he accompanied the King outdoors, the crowd following close behind him. It was time for the meeting in the square. Already large numbers had gathered around the central fountain, awaiting the King. Paul spotted his family not far off. Lissa's eyes widened when she spotted him. How would he explain this all to her? Surely she would believe him now. Yes, all would be restored, including peace in his family. Yet, as Paul took his stand beside the King, something tugged deep within him again. Something wasn't right. Something wasn't adding up, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The feeling was just there, sitting in his gut. Shaking his head, Paul pushed all doubt to the side. For now, it was time to rejoice.

_____________________________________________________________________

Sorry, this still isn't the last part, but I do plan to post it this week. Your feedback has been very helpful, and I finally found the inspiration I needed.

So tell me now, how do you feel about the King? What about Paul?

Don't worry, I won't be asking these questions again after this.  :)

The Mad Scientist Composer part 2

                *****
    Three weeks later......
    The morning of the move had finally arrived, and all eight members of the Dueck family were scurrying about, packing last minute things.
    “Ma!  Cal’s here!”  Anni called as she peeked out the window to see Calico arriving to help load things up.
    “Good, let’s start loading up then.”  They didn’t have a moving truck, as they would only be taking basic things and leaving furniture and appliances.
    Soon the Excursion and Pa’s pickup were loaded, and there still remained some things.
    “You can put them in my car,”  Calico offered.  So they did, and soon everything was loaded up and they were on their way to Grandpa’s farm, about an hour’s drive away.
    The four younger children promptly fell asleep despite their excitement, and before anyone knew it they were making a right turn into Grandpa’s drive.  Grandpa and the two pups were waiting for them on the front porch.  As soon as Ma turned off the ignition, the six children piled out and ran to Grandpa.
    “Howdy, Grandpa!”  They all shouted, squeezing him in bear hugs.
    “I’ve been a waitin’, what took you so long?”  Grandpa teased, swinging Arthur-Lorenzo up into his arms.
    “Dad!  Should you be doing that?”  Ma scolded.
    “Ah, it’s all right, my arthritis isn’t so bad today.”  Grandpa replied.  And with that, the unloading began.

    The next morning everyone was up bright and early to help with the chores.  As it turned out, there were exactly six different duties to accomplish each morning and evening, so they were split up between the children, and Grandpa, Pa and Ma would help the younger ones where needed.  Anni was in charge of the horses, Jakob the cattle, Ellen-Adel the chickens, Elida-Rose the pigs, Lorena-Grace the cats, and Arthur-Lorenzo the dogs.
    “Ellen, how many eggs did you gather this morning?”  Ma asked a couple mornings later as she was making breakfast.
    “Uh....” Ellen-Adel paused a moment as she counted the eggs in the basket.  “Looks like ten.”  She said, handing them up to Ma.
    “Just what I needed!  Thank you, Ellen.” 
    “You’re welcome, Ma!  I think I’ll go see if Lida needs help with the pigs.”  Ellen-Adel said, turning towards the door.
    “That sounds fine.  Breakfast will be ready in about ten minutes, so you can tell your siblings when you see them.”
    “Okie dok!”  Ellen-Adel said, and charged out the door, and in the process knocking down Lorena-Grace, who was returning from her cat duties.
    “Ouch.”  They both said in unison.
    “Ellen, see now why I’ve told you to be careful?”  Ma reprimanded after making sure both parties were unwounded.
    “Yes’m....”  Ellen-Adel said. 
    “Well, go on then,”
    “Gracie, ya want to come too?”  Ellen-Adel asked.
    “I think I’ll just go get Anni and Jakob for breakfast.”  Lorena-Grace replied cautiously.
    “Okay, but I won’t run into ya anymore.”  Ellen-Adel said as they hurried off in opposite directions.
    “Lida!  Need help?”  Ellen-Adel hollered as she neared the pig pen.  Elida-Rose turned her back to the pigs to see who was calling her; bucket of feed still in hand.  One of the biggest pigs lunged at the bucket and in doing so knocked Elida-Rose down splat into the mud.
    “Oops.”  Ellen-Adel grimaced and ran to her sisters’ rescue.  “You okay, Lida?”
    “Oooooo.... yuck.”  Elida-Rose replied, sitting up in the muck, covered from head to toe.  Ellen-Adel burst out laughing.   
    “You look hilarious, Lida!”  She said between fits of laughter.
    “Thank you kindly, Ellen.”  Elida-Rose scowled, rising to her full height.
    “Come on, Ma had breakfast ready.”  Ellen-Adel said, pulling Elida-Rose behind her.
    “Elida-Rose!  What happened to you?”  Ma gasped when the two entered the kitchen.
    “She got knocked over by a pig.”  Ellen-Adel replied, still giggling.
    “Knocked over, indeed!  I’m surprised I recognized you, Lida!”  Ma exclaimed, hurrying over.  “Come, let’s get you cleaned up.  Ellen, will you watch the eggs on the stove, please?”  Ma asked as she and Elida-Rose headed out.
    “Sure.”
    Once in the washroom, Elida-Rose caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and burst out into uncontrollable laughter.
    “Oh, Ma, can you leave it?  I think I want to look like this all the time!”
    “Ah, certainly not,  Elida-Rose.”  And soon Elida-Rose was all cleaned up and the family gathered ‘round the kitchen table for breakfast.
    “Mmmm, these are good pancakes, Ma!”  Jakob said.
    “Thank you... I used Grandma’s old recipe.”  Ma replied.
    “Can you use it all the time?  I like it lots too!” Ellen-Adel requested.
    “We’ll see.”  Ma smiled.
                    *****
    Several months later......
    Back at the Duecks’ old town, rumors were circulating that the Duecks’ old house was for sale.  One certain family had decided to go take a look at the house before purchasing. 
    Arriving at the homestead, the car’s tires crunched over the gravel as they drove up and parked near the front door.
    “All right, childrens, let’s go in!”  The father of the family said as they all piled out.
    As they reached the front door, they suddenly heard something.
    “What is that?”  Asked one of the younger children.   
    “Sounds like music,”  Replied the middle child.
    “Yeah!  It’s Beethoven’s Fifth!”  Piped up the eldest child, who was a freshman in college with a degree in music.  Indeed, coming from somewhere deep within the house were muffled strains of Beethoven’s Fifth. 
    “Is someone already here?”  Came the youngest child’s voice in disappointment.
    “Hmmm.... it rather seems to be that way.”  The father replied.
    “But last we heard it was still for sale!”  The mother protested.
    “Yes, that is true.  Maybe we’ll just have to knock and see if anyone comes to the door.”   And so the family walked up and knocked loudly on the door.  Minutes passed before they decided no one was coming to the door.  Beethoven’s Fifth continued to fill the air around them.
    “Well, let’s go in, see where the music is coming from at least.”  The father said, pushing the door open.  The family made their way into the house, sneezing in the billows of dust that arose as they walked across the carpet.   
    “Well, one things for sure... no one has been living in here for a very long time.”
    “You’re certainly right about that.”  The mother nodded. 
    They made their way through the house towards where they thought the music was coming from.  They came upon a stairway, and as they headed down, a strange smell wafted up to greet them.     
    “What is that?”  Asked the youngest child.
    “I don’t know.... Shall we find out?”  The father looked around at the other members of the family.  The mother shrugged and they continued down the long staircase. 
    At the bottom of the stairs, they turned left and gasped at the sight that met their eyes.
    In a darkened corner of the basement, small explosions of color were erupting all over, and it appeared as though the music was coming from the explosions!  Suddenly, a lab coat clad figure came out from amongst all the color.  The family gasped again.
    “Oh!  I didn’t know anyone was here!”  The character said in surprise, coming over to them.
    “Ah, uh, neither did we,”  The father stammered.
    “Well how do you like it?”  The character asked, wiping his hands on his lab coat and smiling in satisfaction.
    “L-like it?  Like what?”  The mother asked.
    “Why, my music, of course!  I just put on the finishing touches!  Isn’t it just wonderful?”  The scientist(as the family assumed he was) answered.
    “Ah, yes, i-it’s quite.... lovely.”  The mother said uncertainly.
    “Good, good!  I’m so glad my first audience liked it!  Come, see how it works!”
The family reluctantly followed the scientist over.  The scientist then proceeded to show them the procedures of the experiment, that, if I may say so myself, was successful at last.  The scientist introduced himself to the family, and as you have most likely guessed, he introduced himself as Calico, Calico Kidd.
    “You have a pirate name!”  The middle child exclaimed.
    “Yes, that I do.”
    “Why is that?  You’re a scientist, are you not?”
    “You are correct on that matter.  Yes, I am a scientist, or so I like to think of myself.  As to why I have a pirate name, all my ancestors were pirates, and so my parents fittingly named me Calico Kidd.  Some call me Cal the Composer though.” 
    “Oh?  So you’re a composer as well?”  The eldest child inquired.
    “Yes, that is so.” 
    “A scientist and a composer...... interesting combination.”  The mother said with a half-smile.
    “It appears to be a good combination.... and look, he can also be labeled as an inventor!”  The middle child made the observation, pointing to the explosions.
    “This is the neatest thing I have ever seen, I’m sure of it!”  The eldest exclaimed.
    “I think I would agree with that...... and add to it the strangest thing I’ve ever seen!”  The mother chuckled.
    “Well, I’m just glad you all like it!”  Calico grinned.
    “Indeed.  You should bring this out to the public!  I’m sure you could become quite famous!”
    “Hmmm, perhaps.”  Calico said thoughtfully.
                    *****
    A few years later.....
    It was a bright Spring morning, and the Dueck family was in town to buy some more chickens, as the skunks had been getting in and diminishing their chicken population by at least half.
    “Look here, Ma!”  Anni suddenly said, pointing to a poster on the store door.
    “What is it, Anni?”  Ma asked, coming over, with Pa following behind.
    “It says there’s going to be a performance of Beethoven’s Fifth next week!  I didn’t know there were any orchestras around here, did you?”  Anni asked.   
    “No, I didn’t... It says here ‘A different approach to Beethoven’s Fifth..... A surprise awaits!’  I wonder what that means?”
    “I’m not sure, but there is only one way to find out.....”
    “Mmm.... Well, we’ll just have to see if we can make it.”  Pa replied.  Just then the triplets and Arthur came up, their arms loaded with chickens.
    “How’re these, Pa?”  They asked.
    “Ah... they look fine, young’uns.  Maybe you should put them back in the pen until we get home, aye?” 
    “Sure!  We just thought we’d come show them to you, that’s all.”  Lorena-Grace grinned as they turned back around.
    The next week, the Dueck family loaded up into the Excursion and headed towards town.  The concert was going to be a couple miles on the other side of town out on the prairie.  That was also a curiosity that the Dueck’s were pondering.  “A different approach” indeed!  Thought they.  With in no time (or so it seemed in their eager anticipation) they were pulling up into the makeshift driveway in front of the prairie where about a hundred or so chairs were set up.
    They found seats and waited.  Soon, out came a lab coat clad person, carrying a mysterious looking bundle and pulling behind him a cart laden with other mysterious objects.  From the distance and since he was wearing goggles, the Duecks did not recognize him at first.  About ten minutes later, the “stage” was all set up and the program began.  The scientist first did some careful measuring of fluids into an innumerable number of flasks set up in a certain arrangement on a table.  Next he began to stack wood under the table all along it’s length.  Then he spread some sort of special paper over the wood and set a match to it.  The audience gasped.
    “What’s he doing?”  Jakob frowned, meeting the other’s looks of befuddlement.  They were as bewildered as he, with no explanation to be had.
    Then suddenly, without warning, the flasks started exploding and a melody began to be heard.     
    “Hey!  That’s........ That’s Beethoven’s Fifth!”  Anni exclaimed.
    “Indeed it is!”  Ma replied in surprise.
    “And what do you know!  That's Calico!”  Jakob made the announcement.
    “You’re right, it is!”  Came the startled gasps of his family members.
    Then Calico surprised them by leaving the “stage” and coming towards them.
    “Do you suppose he recognizes us?”  Ellen-Adel asked.
    “Could be,”  Pa said as Calico walked up to them.
    “Why, hello, Duecks!”  Calico said, grinning.
    “So you do know who we are!”  Ellen-Adel exclaimed.
    “Of course I do!  I dare say, Mrs. Dueck, your idea was the start of a wonderful inspiration!”
    “My idea?  Which idea are you speaking of, Calico?”  Ma wondered.
    “Why, the idea of Beethoven’s Fifth, of course!  The last time I saw ya’ll you said ‘Maybe next time you’ll have Beethoven’s Fifth mastered’!”  Calico responded.
    “Well, it seems you have done just that!  Congratulations, Calico, this is simply splendid!”  Ma smiled.
    “I’m certainly glad you like it, ma’am.”  Calico expressed.
   
    “I’m sure this is the most creative way I’ve ever heard Beethoven’s Fifth being played!”
    And the “curtain drops” with strains of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony fading into the night air.    
                    THE END!

The Mad Scientist Composer part 1

Here's a story for this week...

Anni woke to a steady rumbling in the basement of their country home.
    “Oh no! Calico’s at it again!” She groaned, jumping out of bed and running down the hall to her brother’s room.
    “Jakob! Wake up, we’ve gotta get outside!” She pounded on his bedroom door.
    “Ah, what is it, Anni?”
    “Calico’s doing another experiment!”   In less than a minute, Jakob came barreling out of the room, and the two of them raced down the stairs and out the front door. 
    They stood in the tall prairie grass, watching and listening expectantly. Sure enough, soon there came a loud explosion, followed by warbled strains of out of tune notes. And the southwest corner of the house was once again in disarray.
    “Ohhhh..... What are Pa and Ma going to say about this?” Anni moaned.
    “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure it’ll be the last time they’ll hire Calico to baby sit us! That mad scientist is nuts!” Jacob fumed as they surveyed the damage. Pretty soon a very dirty and bedraggled Calico came out the front door and hurried over to them.
    “Oh, I’m so sorry, mateys, looks as if my mixtures went wrong again.  I thought I was going to have Beethoven’s fifth that time!” Calico attempted to apologize.  You see, Calico was a scientist who was trying to come up with a way to make music out of explosions and chemical reactions.  He had a ways to go yet.... although sometimes, like this time, some notes came out..... out of tune though they may be.
    “Oh, it’s all right-” Anni attempted to reassure Calico, but Jakob cut in.
    “It is NOT all right! Calico, look what you’ve done! Again! This is the second time you’ve done this! When will you ever learn? YOU are the one who’s supposed to be baby sitting us, not us baby sitting you!” Jakob said angrily.
    “But, Jakob, I really am sorry… I just can’t seem to get along without my experiments, that’s all.” Calico said glumly.
    “Well, maybe you should build yourself an experiment shed that you can blow up, instead of our basement.” Anni said, trying to smooth it over between Calico and Jakob.
    “That’s an excellent idea, sister. What do you think of it, Calico?”
    “Well, I s’pose it’s a pretty good idea, but how am I supposed ter go about making meself a shed?”
    “Oh, you’re just good at blowing things up, not building them, aye?”   
    “Aye, yer right there, sonny.” Calico said morosely.
    “Maybe you could hire someone to build it for you.” Anni suggested.
    “Another grand idea!” And so that was the conclusion for that subject. But now they had to decide what to do about the southwest corner of the house, and quickly, for the clouds were gathering and darkening, and it promised to rain soon. 
    “I know! There are many old tarps in the barn, we could probably use them!” So the three of them ran to the barn and made quick work of dragging several tarps over to the house, where they secured them the best they could. They had just finished when Anni felt a drop of rain on her face. With in seconds, it was pouring.
    “Run!” The three of them ran into the house, where they stood in the doorway, sopping wet.
    “Now what?” Jakob asked.
    “I suppose we should get into dry clothes, and fix breakfast.” Anni said.
    “What a marvelous idea!” Calico grinned.
    Soon they were all in dry clothes, and all of three of them decided to help make breakfast. As they were sitting down to eat their muffins and eggs, they heard a constant drip, drip, drip over in the direction of the southwest corner of the house.
    “Oh no! The tarps must have had holes in them!” Calico, Jakob, and Annie rushed over to where the tarps formed a temporary ceiling. Sure enough, one of the tarps had a hole, and it was leaking dangerously. Anni ran for a bucket while Calico and Jakob made a futile attempt to stop the drip by Jakob standing on Calico’s shoulders and stuffing his head into the hole. Needless to say, all this resulted in was sore shoulders for Calico and a nasty cold for Jakob. Anni arrived, triumphantly holding a bucket and she set it under the drip, and then hastened Jakob to bed after getting him into yet another set of dry clothes.
    “Now, Calico, promise me you won’t try to do any more experiments today, please. I’m going to need to take care of Jakob, not try to fix what you’ve blown up.” Anni said, trying her hardest not to sound too condemning.     
    “Oh, all right, I suppose I can refrain from any more mischief for the day.” And so Anni and Calico spent the rest of the day by Jakob’s bedside, nursing him back to health.
    “Anni, when did you say your parents were getting back?” Calico asked the next morning.
    “Either today or tomorrow, they weren’t sure.” Anni replied.
    “They’re sure gonna be mad,” Calico moaned.
    “Maybe you shoulda thought of that before you blew the house up.” Jakob commented from his bed.
    “Nice idea.” Calico mumbled. “I didn’t blow the whole house up though.”
    “Hmmm. Good thing we have house insurance.”
    “Do you think we could start fixing it?” Anni asked.
    “Are you crazy? We don’t know the first thing about fixing blown up houses, Anni.” Jakob said.
    “You’re right.” Anni replied. “So what are we going to do now?” 
    “Wait for your parents to get home, I reckon.” Calico replied.
    “Right.... Are you feeling any better, Jake?”
    “I suppose.”
    “That’s good.”
    The three of them made small talk and did various things until dinner time, when Calico and Anni managed to cook a fairly decent meal. After that Calico got so restless he started pacing back and forth across the carpet.
    “Calico! Stop pacing, you’re making me nervous!” Anni wailed.
    “How can I help it? I’m nervous too! Your parents are going to fire me from ever baby-sitting you again and then what will I do? You’re the only ones who will let me experiment in your house!” Calico moaned.
    “Yeah, and that might not even be anymore when Pa and Ma get home. Why don’t you just experiment in your own house?”
    “It’s not my house, I’m renting it and my landlord doesn’t want me doing any experiments there.”
    “Oh. Why don’t you go compose something? Take your mind off it.”
    “Hmm. I guess that’s a good idea.” Calico replied, and headed down the stairs, followed by Jakob. 
    Suddenly, the phone rang with an atrocious blare, startling Anni. She quickly regained her senses and grabbed the phone.
    “Hello, this is Anni.” She answered.
    “Hey Anni!” Squealed a little, high-pitched voice.
    “Oh, hey, Gracie.” Anni replied to her youngest sister.
    “Ma wants to talk to you but I got to be the one to call!” Said the voice in an important mannner.
    “Oh, okay.... Does she want to talk to me now?” Anni asked, though it was rather obvious.
    “I tink so.” The voice died away and there was a loud clank in Anni’s ear, then her mother’s voice came through.
    “Anni? Are you still there?”
    “Yes, Ma.”
    “Good. How is it going at home?”
    “Uh...... Okay I guess.” 
    “You don’t sound so sure.” 
    “Um......... Well..... When are you gonna get back?”
    “We’re turning in the drive.”
    “Oh! Well, uh, then you’ll be finding out right quick.” 
    “Finding out wh------ Anni!!!” With that, the phone went dead and Anni peered out the window to see Pa and Ma running towards the house. She quickly replaced the phone in its holder, yelled something unintelligible downstairs to Calico and Jakob, and scurried outdoors.
    “Anni Warkentin Dueck! What has been going on here?” Ma asked as Anni reached them.   
    “Perhaps you should ask Calico that.” Anni replied timidly.
    “Oh dear. Is this the result of another failed experiment?” Ma asked as Pa began to survey the damage.
    “I reckon you could call it that.” Anni replied.
    “Where is Calico? And Jakob? Was anyone hurt?” Ma asked.
    “Downstairs, downstairs, and not really.” Anni replied.
    “Not really? What is that supposed to mean?”
    “Well, no one was hurt in the event of the explosion, but Jakob has been suffering from a cold as a result of trying to repair the damage done.” Anni explained.
    “Now how did that happen?”
    “It started to rain and he got soaked.” Anni replied.       
    “He is recovering though?”
    “Quite swiftly, in fact.” 
    “Ah, good. Now would you like to help me unload the vehicle while your father takes a look?”
    “Most certainly, Ma.” With that, Ma and Anni hurried towards the deep blue Excursion, where Anni’s four younger siblings were sitting solemnly in their seats, gazing at the wreckage. 
    “Come on out and help us bring things in, young ‘uns.” Ma said as she opened the trunk doors and began handing out suitcases and bags. The four youngest quickly jumped out and dutifully began lugging their own suitcases towards the door, with Ma and Anni following behind. As they entered the house, a strange odor greeted them.
    “What’s that awful smell?” Ellen-Adel, the oldest of the triplets, asked.
    “Is it the house blowin’ up agin?” Little Arthur-Lorenzo asked.
    “Uh, I don’t know, but I think it’s coming from downstairs.” Anni said. All six of them darted down the stairs at nearly top speed. Rounding the corner, they found the source of the smell. Standing in front of a table were Calico and Jakob, intently watching something from which drifted a distinct unpleasant odor. Anni was the first to venture over and peer into the container. Inside was a boiling mass of vinegar, baking soda, and the key ingredient; grasshoppers. And rising from the concoction was one of the worst smells Anni had ever encountered.
    “What are you doing?” Calico and Jakob spun around. Being so enthralled with their gooey mess they had not noticed the six pairs of feet pounding down the stairs.
    “Uh, Calico’s showing me his new idea.” Jakob replied.
    “And what is that?” Anni asked suspiciously.
    “It’s grasshopper propellant.”
    “It smells like it stinks.” Ellen-Adel said, pinching her nose.
    “I have this wonderful theory that if baking soda and vinegar can make a rocket shoot off, then it can also send all the grasshoppers flying into outer space!” Calico replied with a grin of satisfaction on his face. The six newcomers stared in disbelief.
    “You really think you’re going to annihilate all the grasshoppers with vinegar and baking soda?” Ma asked.
    “Why, sure, once I get the proportions right.”
    “Uh huh. And meanwhile, you’re blowing up parts of our house.”
    “Oh, that wasn’t with the baking soda and vinegar, that was with th----”
    “Calico, I’m sure it’s very interesting what you blew half the basement out with, but right now we need to get it fixed.” Ma replied sternly.
    “Yes’m.” Calico said somberly.
    The group headed back up the stairs, where Pa was waiting for them outside.
    “Can it be repaired, Mr. Dueck?” Calico asked nervously.
    “Well, it could be, but it would take a great deal of work; it might even require rebuilding the house.” Pa gave his diagnosis.
    “Are you sure there isn’t any way to repair it without rebuilding, Isaias?” Ma asked, her forehead creased.
    “Well, we’d have to call in a carpenter to see for sure, but remember what we’ve been talking about these past few weeks?” Pa turned to Ma. Ma looked up in surprise.
    “You mean about the farmstead?” She asked.
    “Yup, that’s what I mean.” Pa replied.
    “Y-you’re thinking seriously about it now?” 
    “Well, what do you think about it?”
    “Hmm… Well, with this unexpected turn of events, I would have to say the idea sounds appealing.” Ma answered.
    “What idea?” Anni asked curiously.
    “Should we tell them now, Isaias?”
    “I don’t see why not. Go ahead, Karen.” Pa nodded.
    “Well, children, your grandfather has asked if we would consider coming to live with him on the family farm, as it is getting harder for him to get around and get all the chores done and the animals fed--”
    “Really? Oh, please, may we?” The triplets chimed in.
    “Well, that’s what we were getting to, young ‘uns.” Pa said. The six Dueck children looked at each other in excitement. 
    “I take it ya’ll are all for it?” Ma asked. The question was greeted by a rousing chorus of excited chatter.
    “I’d take that for a yes. Karen?”
    “That’s what I’d interpret it as!” Ma laughed. They all then hurried inside to discuss further over some icecream. 
    “Hey, Anni, want to go eat downstairs and keep an eye on that grasshopper paste?” Jakob asked.
    “Oh, me, me! I want to!” Four year old Arthur yelled. 
    “Oh, all right, you can come too, Arthur. You comin’, Anni?”
    “Sure…” Anni said, and the three of them headed downstairs.
    “So you really think this could work to annihilate the grasshopper population, aye?” Anni asked, peering into the dark depths of the pot. Jakob shrugged.
    “Don’ know. It’s really Calico’s idea..... we’ll have to see.” And with that they promptly finished their ice cream. Soon after they were finished, Elida-Rose ran down the stairs to collect the ice cream bowls.
    “Can I have your bowls?” She asked. 
    “Oh, I was supposed to give it back?” Jakob asked.
    “Yes.....” Elida-Rose replied.
    “Ooops, I ate it!”
    “What!?! You ATE it?” Elida-Rose screeched, then yelled up the stairs--
    “MA!! Help! Come quick, Jakob ate his bowl! You said to never mess with glass, it could hurt you! But Jakob just ate it!” Turning to Jakob she frantically asked,
    “Are you gonna die?”
    “Ah, no, ‘course not, Lida! I didn’t really eat it!” Jakob chuckled, pulling the bowl out from under his chair.      
    “Jakob! That was mean!” Elida-Rose pouted, grabbing the bowl and heading back up the stairs. Jakob merely chuckled.
    “Why are you always pulling pranks on the triplets, Jakob?” Anni asked.
    “’Cause it’s fun, that’s why.” Jakob grinned. Anni sighed and followed Elida-Rose up the stairs, with Jakob coming behind. As they reached the landing, the phone rang with an atrocious blare. 
    “I get it!” Lorena-Grace yelled, running to the phone and jerking it off it’s cradle.
    “Hello, this is the Duecks; Lorena-Grace speaking,” She said in her most professional voice. “Yes, she is, just a minute please.” She said. “Where’s Ma?” She then whispered loudly (directly into the phone). 
    “Right here, Gracie.” Ma said, taking the phone that Lorena-Grace offered.
    “Hello? This is Karen....... Oh, hello!.....” Ma moved off into the bedroom to the right of the living room. The six Dueck children and Calico sat down on the various couches and chairs and picked up books or other things to occupy themselves until Ma got off the phone. In about ten minutes, Ma reentered the room.
    “Who was it?” They all asked in unison.
    “That was your grandfather.”
    “Grandpa Warkentin?” Anni asked. (That was Ma’s father)
    “Yes, it was Grandpa Warkentin.”
    “Did you tell him we’re thinkin’ about comin’?” Anni asked.
    “As a matter of fact, I did; after he asked though. Seems his arthritis has been springing up a lot lately and the chores are being left undone half of the time. He’s getting pretty desperate to find some help. Turns out it would work out well for both of us; he gets the help he needs and we get the house we need.... I think it’s pretty much settled. Your father and I still need to work out a few details, but other than that, it’s basically confirmed.” Ma reported.
    “Yeah!” Came a yell from the entire Dueck group. They were obviously excited about the idea that was quickly becoming reality.
    “The only downfall, however, is that we would no longer have need for a baby-sitter, as Grandpa would fill that role when needed…” Ma began.
    “Does that mean I’m off duty?” Calico asked, shoulders drooping.   
    “Well, it seems to be that way.... but there is an advantage to all this.” Ma replied.
    “What’s that?” Calico asked.
    “What’s left of this house would be turned over to you, and you could experiment all you wanted. You could also live here in the areas you hadn’t yet destroyed.” Ma said with a hint of a smirk. 
    “Aye! That’s a wonderful idea!” Calico exclaimed, grinning, ignoring the part about the “parts he hadn’t yet destroyed”.
    “And maybe next time we see you you’ll have Beethoven’s Fifth mastered.”
    “Aye, that would be the goal.”
    With that they all went out to see what Pa was up to.
    “Ma?” Elida-Rose suddenly piped up.
    “Yes?”
    “Did ya know that Jakob pretended to eat a bowl?” 
    “Lida! Shhh!” Jakob scowled. “Uh, I think I need to go feed the dogs now!” Jakob grinned sheepishly and hurried off with Arthur-Lorenzo hurrying behind.
    “But it’s my turn!.....” Arthur’s voice faded away as they disappeared around the corner of the shed.
    “I thought it was my turn.”  Lorena-Grace said forlornly.  Ma chuckled softly.
    “Ah, ya’ll will get plenty of chances to feed animals once we get to Grandpa’s house.” 
    “I can’t wait!”  Lorena-Grace squealed, jumping up and down in her excitement. 

Okay, sorry that was such a long part, but I was trying to divide it into two parts!  Part 2 coming soon...

Who Am I?

Here is the Who Am I for this week!

1.  I am massive.
2.  I suffer from a slight case of paranoia. 
3.  I love gold.

Who Am I?

Guardian - Part 3

Paul trudged through a sleepy town, his feet heavy, and his heart heavier still. The sun was beginning to set, and he needed to head home, but no, he couldn't, not yet. Not without Micah. Where was that bothersome boy? He'd searched every shop and questioned every farmer he thought Micah may have possibly talked to, but none had seen the tall, towheaded boy. There was only one place left to look, but he'd sworn he'd never go in there again.

His feet slowed as he approached the only bustling business in town – Ada's Tavern. Maybe he'd just take a peek in, but he'd have no drinks, no food, no friends. As of yet, Paul still hadn't figured out why Lissa had accused him of staying out at nights. He had always gone home before dark, hadn't he? Or maybe the drink had caused him to forget.

Paul stopped just outside the tavern, unable to go any farther. A crowd had gathered outside, trying to squeeze through the double doors. Others stood on their tip-toes trying catch a glimpse of the inside. A voice boomed from the smoky interior, young and clear, yet commanding. Paul gasped. The King. He couldn't face him without the sword.

Paul spun around. Thwack! His face collided into a bony chest. Paul glanced up, rubbing his nose. Micah? Before he had time to react, the boy slipped into the crowd. No, no, no! Paul barged in after the blond head, but the crowd wouldn't yield to him.

“Hey!” A man yelled. “Watch where you're going!”

“Sorry,” Paul mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. Then the mob in the doorway gave way, and Paul collapsed just inside. By the time he jumped to his feet, Micah was nowhere in sight, but the King stood in the center of the room, his dark eyes resting on him. Paul froze, but the King didn't speak to him. 

“My people, you have suffered long enough. But fear not, for the time of deliverance has come! Tonight we assemble in the town square, and tomorrow we go to war! I want all able bodied men to join me.”

“But what about the King's sword?” A man shouted.

“Don't worry. It has been found.”

Cheers erupted around the room. Paul's skin grew clammy. What? Why hadn't be been told? He glanced around the room. If only he could slip out, but the crowd was thicker than ever.

Micah's head suddenly popped out of one corner, headed for where the King stood. Anger swelled in Paul's chest. Micah. He must have given the sword to the King and woven some fanciful story about how he'd found it. Well, Paul would make sure the King knew the truth.

The crowd hushed as Micah took the stage. Carlos stepped forward to push him back, but the King motioned for him to stop. “Let the boy speak. The young are perhaps the most valuable citizens in a kingdom.” The King turned to Micah. “What's on your mind?”

Micah turned to his audience. “This man is no King.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Paul suppressed a growl. Now what was the boy up to?

“How can you say such a thing?” Carlos hissed.

“Because I know what I say is true.” Micah's words were calm, but strong. “You say,” he turned to the King. “That your sword was lost, stolen from its guardian, but how can this be so? No man can steal a King's sword, neither can it be lost. It can only be given.”

Gasps erupted from the crowd at the quoting of the ancient law. Paul shook his head, confused. It didn't make sense. The case he had seen empty with his very own eyes, and he definitely hadn't given the sword to anyone. Why, the sword wouldn't even need a guardian if it couldn't be stolen, so why had the elder King given it to him in the first place?

The King stepped forward, fire in his eyes. “I know the law, boy. When I say stolen, I merely mean that the sword was 'given' to someone besides its rightful owner.”

Wait. Now the King was against him? Paul wanted to shrink.

“The law also states,” the King continued. “That if the sword is not 'given' to a person, he will not be able to wield it.” He faced Micah, challenge in his voice. “Test me tonight, if you will. I will bring the sword. Let us see if I can wield it.”

Cheering and applaud broke from the crowd, but Paul pursed his lips. Micah's gaze had turned to him. Paul held his breath until he broke away and turned back to face the King. “I don't doubt you can wield the sword,” he spoke when the people quieted. “If the sword was given to you, you will indeed be able. However, that doesn't mean the sword is rightfully yours and that you are King.” Micah's eyes bored into the King a second longer, as if letting his words sink in. Then he turned away, and dove into the crowd. The people tore away from him, as if he were a knife slicing through their midst. Micah reached the door untouched, and disappeared into the street. Paul tried to follow, but was once again, swallowed by the crowd.

-------

I've really struggled with the last two parts I've written, and I still have another to write. Can you tell me, is this all making sense so far? If not, what doesn't make sense? Am I losing your interest?

Tip Tuesday

Today I'm just going to share a link with you. I finished writing my first book awhile back, but I realized the title I had begun with didn't match my theme anymore. So last night I was brainstorming a few ideas, but decided I needed a little help. As a result, I googled a title generator, but I didn't want just any random title generator. No, I was looking for something that would use keywords from my story and throw them together. This is what I found:  http://www.fictionalley.org/primer/title.html. As of yet, I'm not sure how useful it is, but I thought I'd share it anyway. Try it out, tell me what you think.

Weekly Newsletter

Hello Lark Writers! Just a heads up, but I'm going to be on vacation half of this week and part of next, so I probably won't get much posting done. I've already started the next part to Guardian, however, so I'm going to put my name down for the story again.

- Story, Guardian Part 3 (Grace)

- Tip Tuesday (Volunteer Needed)

- Word Wednesday (Volunteer Needed)

- Devotion (Volunteer Needed)

- Who Am I? (Volunteer Needed)






"Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has gone, the new has come!"
2 Corinthians 5:17

Scripture

I was planning on writing a devotion this week; however, working at VBS and having a cold has kept me from doing so. I apologize for that. Basically, this devotion will consist of two of my favorite scriptures. I promise that next time I volunteer for this, I will do better.

Isaiah 6:8 Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.

Isaiah 55:8-12 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.  For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:  So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.  For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

What If... Part1BcA

...Then something catches your eyes among the yellowed folds of paper. You scoop it up, turning the paper every which way until you find the proper angle. A small flower is sketched in one corner of the paper, and for some reason it looks familiar. But from where? You examine its sun-like shape and the branches of skinny leaves growing up from the base. Yes, you've seen this before – here, in this house as a matter of fact.

You stand, curiosity getting the best of you. Scanning walls, windows, and doors, you move back through the living room and into the dining room. Well, you certainly didn't see the flower on the stained glass window. No, it's just some ribbon/wreath arrangement you're not quite sure what to call.

You let your eyes follow the trim up the wall, over a door, and back down to the floor. Ah-hah. You kneel down by the doorway and trace your fingers through the flower. The trim is a bit worn on the edges, but the flower is in perfect shape. Simple, but adding an elegant touch. The grain of the wood even swirls around the flower as if it were a magical blossom. You glance around at all the other doorways. They too, have flowers stationed on either side in the trim. Why hadn't you spotted them sooner?

The words of the note flash through your mind. My name is Nadine. I live here … I like flowers. Those last words had seemed so random, so out of place with the rest of the note, but now it hits you. It's a hint, a clue, but to what? To find Nadine? If you want to live here, you'll have to play with me... So this is a game. Will you play it or not? 

Bzzz, bzzz. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You slip it out. Dad. Finally.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sweetie. What's up?”

“Well...” You pace the room. “This house is kind of weird.”

Dad chuckles. “Has character, doesn't it?”

“That's not exactly what I meant.” You shake your head despite the fact that he can't see you.

Dad is silent for a moment. “Are you telling me you don't like it?”

“Not exactly... It's just that some really strange things are going on.”

A boisterous laugh fills your ear. “Sweetie, are you paranoid? I assure you, it's not haunted, no matter what the locals say.”

“It's just that Carl gave me this creepy note.”

“Read it to me.”

You read it, all the while wondering how unbelievable this sounds over the phone, like something from the movies.

Dad is quiet for a moment. Then he speaks, his voice strange, “That is weird.”

“Do you suppose this is just a friendly prank or ...” Your voice trails off.

“I don't know... I'm going to call Carl. In the mean time, why don't you check in at a hotel for the night?”

“Okay,” you say, but you don't sound relieved. Why are you disappointed? Oh, well... Better safe than sorry. “Bye, Dad.” You choke out.

“Bye. Love you.” He hangs up.

You sigh and slide your phone back into your pocket. The note you tuck into your purse. Fishing for your car keys, you head for the door. You take one last look at the ghostly furniture and the shadows lurking behind, just waiting for Nadine to pop out, but she doesn't. You swing open the door and step outside.

Oops, you forgot about the slippery steps. Your feet fly out from under you, and thumpety-thump-thump, you slide down the stairs on your behind. Matt throws his snow shovel to the side and catches you at the bottom. “You okay?”

You avoid his gaze, expecting him to say something about how clumsy you are or about how you and stairs just don't get along, but instead he sits down beside you. “I really need to get that rail fixed.”

“Don't worry,” you try to stand. “I'm leaving.”

“What? Why?” He steadies you as you start to wobble again.

Pain shoots up your back, and you grimace. “This place – is – dangerous.”

“I think you've said that before.”

Heat rushes to your face. “Yes, well, it is.”

“There's something else, isn't there?” Matt grabs your arm.

Your hand freezes on the car handle. Can you trust him? No, no you can't. You made that mistake with Oren. One you promised you'd never make again. You swing open your car door, but Matt's grasp on your other arm prevents you from sitting down.

“Look,” a white puff of breath shoots from Matt's mouth and evaporates inches from your face. “I've seen this house sit here empty for too long. Year after year I've seen people buy her and then pack up and leave a week later. They spread stories of it being haunted, but I know that's not true. Tell me, what exactly is going on?”

You jerk your arm away and...

A. Say, “I can't talk right now. I've got to go.”

B. Show him the note.

C. Ask him, “If you want to know, why don't you buy the house?”