Fiction Fest prompt: half an hour before sunrise

You know that feeling you have when you know someone else is in the room or even just looking at you? That's what it felt like. I was face-down on my bed, folded into my sheets like a big pile of dirty laundry, my pillow balanced on top of my head but my eyes had popped wide open. The room had suddenly become chilly. I usually get hot and throw my covers off this time of the night, but here it was, about half an hour before sunrise, and I shivered.

The bunny was here. In my room. Knowing that he'd come to our world was one thing. Knowing he'd made it into the house and into my room was something else altogether. He was following me. He wanted something from me. Revenge? Did he blame Sam and me for his incarceration? Did he come back here to bite us, to inject us with his poison? Was I about to die? I knew one thing for sure: if I got bit, no one in any hospital in this world would be able to save me.

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Resting...Resting?

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had dinner with our daughter-in-law and two of our grand children. My daughter-in-law lost her job a couple of months ago. I wanted an update on current job prospects or plans, so I asked, "What are you doing these days?" Her answer was simple and yet incredibly profound. Resting. (Is that even a word in the American lexicon?) I'm proud of her, and of them, for making the decision that it's time for her to rest. She's been in hyper-drive for all the years I've known her (over 16). That word has haunted me since she spoke it. Resting. What would happen if I...if you...gave it a try? In Psalm 23: 6a, David says Surely goodness and mercy will follow me. In K.J. Ramsey's The Lord is My Courage (page 240), she tells us that our English word, "follow," doesn't convey the power behind the original Hebrew word that David used (radaph). She tells us that radaph means "to pursue, chase, and pers

It's Time to Take off the Sunglasses

Americans have a favorite pastime, and no, I'm not referring to baseball or football. This pastime doesn't cost any money. You don't need tickets, and there's no set game time. It happens every day. You don't need to be physically fit. You don't need special training. We do it at book club, at work, on the road, in meetings, having lunch with friends, etc. You get the idea. What is it? Complaining. We love to complain, and I'm right there in the fray, tearing everything and everyone apart. Sometimes it wears me out. My mom passed away many years ago, and one of my all-time favorite memories of life with her goes back to my summer between high school and college. We worked together that summer. Drove together every morning, bright and early, right into the rising sun. One morning, my mom reached into her purse and grabbed her sunglasses, putting them on just as we rounded the bend on the St. Louis-rush-hour-busy road that put us directly in the sun's pat

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Gideon: By his own admission, his family was the weakest of his tribe, and he was the weakest in his family (Judges 6: 15-16). Midianites: Big bullies who oppressed the Israelites back in the day. As the story goes, this little-nobody-Gideon is doing manual labor for his dad (I'm thinking that this might be akin to working at Walmart - not exactly a career - or even a job - that causes anyone to preen), when an angel calls him, "a mighty man of valor" (Judges 6: 12). Huh? Oh, you mean this other guy, right? Nope, I'm talkin' to you. Fast forward and we find this little-nobody-Gideon camping near Israel's oppressors with a team of 32,000. This seems like a lot until Gideon checks out the enemy and finds that there are so many Midianites and their pals, the Amalekites, that no one can count them. They seemed "like locust in abundance and their camels were without number as the sand that is on the seashore." (Judges 7: 12) Gulp. What does God

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