I was about to despair that I had nothing to write about!
Then it dawned Friday! Ohhhhhh yippepepepppeeeeeeee.
It couldn’t have come at a better time. Let’s see what’s lurking in my head today.
Brother Harlan had been preaching hellfire and damnation for nigh onto 50 years, having come to his calling at a young age and with a real focus on the sins of man. Now at 70, his preaching was taking on an almost mellow tone. This Sunday he’d been almost kind to the congregation. Why Denny Moore didn’t even comment on the state of his everlasting soul after the sermon, something he’d been doing for nigh on to 50 years. Denny did ask his wife if she thought the right Reverend was slipping a bit.
‘No’, she replied. ‘I think he’s just gotten old. Like us’.
Brother Harlan had gotten old and the past few months had surely threatened the state of his soul. Questioning himself and his steadfast belief that he was right about the afterlife had left him worn and withered of spirit. What if he was wrong? What if this was it? If this was the hell? He’d been torturing these poor tortured souls every Sunday for most of their lives with the threat of damnation and it looked liked most of ’em was already damned.
‘This life is messy,’ he thought. ‘Just plum messy. “
Harlan awoke on Monday with new purpose. The good people of his flock would be loved and encouraged, given hope and shown the beauty in life. He would show them faith without failure. After all, no one would find the bodies he’d buried in the woods after all these years. Would they?