Where is god?

Adult content, language, drugs, abuse (multiple forms), please read with discretion. May be a trigger for some readers. Reader discretion advised. 

This story has massive amounts of adult content. So much out of my wheel house, here’s to something different.

Psalm 88: 8-9

8  “You have caused my companions to shun me; you have made me a horror[b] to them. I am shut in so that I cannot escape;

9 my eye grows dim through sorrow. Every day I call upon you, O Lord; I spread out my hands to you.” ESV

Where is god?

At the time of writing this 2023, the last death by firing squad was in 2010. That changed this year (2025) when 2 people were killed by firing squad in South Carolina. 

Where is god?

Death

I was hot. The sun beat down on me causing sweat to soak my clothes. The sound of guns cocking made my blood run cold. But I didn’t flinch; just stood up straighter, taller. 

Objects pelted my body. But I refused to open my eyes. I had promised. 

Instead of a last meal, I asked if I could see Maggie’s place one more time. It was the preacher that filled my request. He made a video of more than just Chico’s Place. There were 20 or so Chihuahua’s there. They looked healthy and happy. It had grown bigger than I ever imagined. A recovery/therapy level had been added to the rescue. Chihuahua’s were being taken to nursing homes. Children with disabilities could do therapy with the Chihuahua. I balled seeing that old rocking chair. A man was sitting in it holding what looked like a teenager wearing some kind of head gear. A Chihuahua was standing on the arm of the rocker licking the youths feet. The youth laughed and laughed. “Remember, don’t kick.” The man gently reminded. 

 God had taken a lazy afternoon conversation and turned it into a spectacular outreach. Yes, I gave God the credit. 

The last death by firin’ squad was in 2010. It was presumptuous of me to request it. But I did. I put out an invitation for volunteers. Over 1 million people volunteered to be my executioner. One million people wanted me to die. I was a killer and had no place in society. Death was best for me. 50 chose to be in the line up to fire the death shot. All of them asked for live ammunition. It shocked me to my very core. It shouldn’t have really. But it did. One million people were willing to throw the first stone. 

Those that didn’t get chosen, were actively throwing things at me. 

A voice came over an intercom. “Do not throw things. You will be asked to disband.”

I had requested not to wear a blindfold. “It’s for the executioners. Not you.” I was told.

“They volunteered.” I protested. The compromise was that I had to keep my eyes closed. 

“God, I know I haven’t been a good person. I’ve done bad things. You saw fit to save a thief on the cross. Is there room for me in your kingdom? I am a sinner. I deserve my end….”

An explosion filled my ears. The crowd cheered wildly. The sting of a bullet pierced my skin. A new warm stream rolled down my body. As I fell to my knees, I saw Maggie. Chico by her side. She was glowing. Happy. Smiling a radiant smile. Her arms open wide. “Maggie.” I felt myself say over the roar of the crowd. She wrapped her arms around me. All I could feel was the warmth of her embrace.

Was this heaven? Was this God? Would he really accept a sinner like me?

Romans 10:9 ESV

9 “because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

This is the end of the story. Closing poem to follow.