Once there was Darkness

Chapter 39

Kol went to the temple a little early. Priest Solomon was overjoyed to see him. He talked so much that Kol’s eyes glazed over. The words being spoken bounced out of his ears and into thin air. The priest stopped in front of Kol, pulling his attention back to the conversation. “I must say my king,” the priest bowed his head. “That I’m hurt I didn’t get to preform your wedding. The royal family needs to stand with the church to present a united front. Don’t forget who raised you.”

Kol just stared at him for a long time. He couldn’t say, ‘I was in a hurry to take her to bed.’ Which did happen. Finally he was able to string together, “God was ready.” This seemed to pacify the priest. He just nodded and moved out of the way.

Kol took his seat in the second row. Priest Solomon wanted him to sit in the front row. But Kol thought it best to leave it open for guests and church staff.

He watched the young boys in their white robes fill the acoustic pots that lined the walls behind the choir. Frego sat down beside him, “did you have to fill those things?”

Kol smiled. “Oh yes. And whoa beyond to you if you overfilled or underfilled one. Priest Paul would take it out in sweat in the garden.”

“It was Sister Grace when it was my turn. We had to take twine every six months and remark the pots. She would stand over you with a stick and smack your hands if she thought you were distracted.” Rajaf sat down behind them.

“What about you Rajaf, did you have to fill the pots?” Frego asked.

He smiled, “indeed. I think all young men had their turn, my prince.”

When the boys had finished, the choir started filing into their place. Kol was starting to worry that Kessa wasn’t going to show. He brought his hands to his face as if in prayer. Then, with his right hand still up, he began to signal with his left.

“What did you say to her?” Frego asked.

“I asked her to join us. I think.” He half smiled. “This is difficult for me to grasp. It runs from me. I may have told her there was an ant in my ear for all I know.”

Kol looked at his son, who was trying not to laugh. Frego nodded toward their left. “I think you got your message across.”

Kessa had stepped through a door followed closely by the priest. They exchanged a few words. Frego felt his dad grab ahold of his arm. As if he was going to fall. Kessa was dressed in purple. A color as close as possible to those little flowers Kol had planted everywhere in the garden. She was beautiful. The fabric of her dress flowed with each step she took. Nothing else in the building mattered in that moment except her walking toward him. When she was next to him, he let go of Frego’s arm and stood; allowing her to sit down before he sat back down. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you, my husband.” She leaned forward.

“Hello prince.”

“Lady Kessa,” he smiled.

She turned around. “Hi dad. Come sit by me.”

“Baby girl.” He moved to join them.”

Kol slid his arm through hers so that he could hold her hand. “Did you see my message?”

She smiled, “I did. Great job. I thought you told me you are having a difficult time learning?”

“I did. And I am.”

“I disagree. Sorry I was later than I should have been. Priest Solomon got me twice.”

“Let me guess, he scolded you for not marrying us.” Kol lowered the tone of his voice, “the church and the royal family need to have a united front for the public.”

She grinned, “you got it.”

After the service, they walked back to the palace. Different citizens greeted them from a distance. Nods, smiles, waves. Kol released a sigh of relieve when they were inside the palace. “Are we alone?”

They stood in silence for a moment. Kessa finally answered, “yes.”

He took her in his arms and kissed her. “I’ve been waiting all day to get you alone.”

“We were alone this morning.” She smiled.

“You wasn’t wearing this dress this morning.” She closed her eyes enjoying the feeling of his hands dancing all over her body. “You haven’t worn a single thing yet that I haven’t wanted the pleasure of taking off you.”

“What are you waiting for?” She hissed.

The Snake and The Rabbit

The Snake

There was a knock at the door. We had been so busy with our mystery that we heard not the bell.

“Come,” Holmes scolded.

It was Mrs. Hudson, “a gentleman here to see you sir.”

Holmes ran to his room, reappearing with a coat, and threw it on the table; then turned to the window, “show him up.”

A very well dressed man came in, taking off his hat. There were stripes of gray throughout his hair and the hair around his ears had started to grizzle.

My first impression of the man was a snake: a giant gray snake that was lurking in the shadows waiting to squeeze his next victim. He created in my bones a chill. I quickly composed myself, “come in.” I greeted the man as he walked into the room. “I am Doctor Watson; my friend and colleague Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Sit.” I showed him to the sofa. “How can we be of service?”

“Well gentleman, I am here to seek your assistance finding someone.”

“Missing persons is a matter for the police.” Holmes spoke from the window.

“I did all that,” replied our guest.

“And?” Asked I.

“Nothing sir; not a trace. I gave them a full account of my story with the hopes that they will get back to me as quickly as possible.”

I looked over at Holmes. He remained quiet still with his back to us staring out the window. “Tell us your tale.” I finally asked the chap. Not quite sure what to do since I was getting no direction from Holmes in making a decision in the matter.

“There is not much to tell.” His manner was much uninvolved; there was no inflection in his voice.

“Get out.” Holmes spoke in a low agitated voice that astonished me.

“I beg your pardon.” Our guest looked confused. “I have heard you can be rude at times. But sir, this is appalling.”

Holmes’ voice remained the same, “get out.”

“Well I never.” Our guest collected his hat and left.

I turned to Holmes just in time to watch him melt to the floor. “Holmes!” He was shaking violently. “Holmes?” I ran to the door. “Mrs. Hudson! Come quickly.”

Being silly at work

A full message came through our inter office message board from one of my bosses. But only the first line showed up on my watch.

My mind is a messy place. 😂

I’ve always wanted to collaborate with Weird Al. ~

Let’s see if you get an ear worm. 😉 I tried to post a link but I don’t think it worked so I removed it.

Jochebed, Exodus 2-1:15

My latest Monday School lesson.

Picture it Egypt 1,447 BC – kinda. You’re a slave. You have 0 to no rights. Your day consists of work, work and more work. Someone has to make the bricks. There is one spot of joy in your life. You are going to have a child. A blessing from God.

One day you start to hear rumors, rumblings from the Egyptians. Pharaoh has proclaimed that all male Hebrew babies are to be killed. Panic fills your heart. What if your baby is a boy? You rub your belly praying to God that your baby isn’t a boy. ‘A girl Lord. Please, let it be a girl.’ Those rumors are true.

The big day arrives. Your heart is full and broken at the same time. A boy. Healthy, happy but sadly – a boy. You’ve heard the screams of your sisters as their babies had been ripped from their arms. You’ve heard the wailings that languished long into the night. Your arms have ached from holding your sisters as they shatter from the devastation. Now, you will know their sorrow, it’s a boy. All the thoughts are there. All those painful moments with your sisters overtake your joy. How God? How could you let it be a boy? The sobs can’t be controlled. All you are able to think is, ‘it’s a boy.’

A mothers love is for her child. To love, to share, to hold, to know. You’re going to keep him. You will defy Pharaoh and his gut wrenching policy as long as you can. Delaying the inevitable. God gave you this amazing gift and you want as much of it as you can soak in. The fear is still strong. The fear stops you from naming your son. We have a saying, ‘if you name it, you make it real.’ Your son is real. But for how long will he be a reality?

Babies grow. Babies make noise. The day comes you can no longer hide him. God gives you this amazing plan. It’s gonna hurt. But the thought that your child is alive somewhere, anywhere is better than knowing he was killed. Ripped from your arms. Most likely bashed against the very walls of the home you live in. So you get to work. Trust God’s plan and make a basket for your child to float him down the river. Praying all the time he will not be eaten by creatures, killed anyway. You must protect your baby boy.

Jochebed teaches us that no matter how much it hurts. Or we think it’s going to hurt. We should always trust in God’s plan. Not only was the life of her child saved but she got to openly (without fear the soldiers would kill him) raise a boy. Yes, Sue next door thought she was raising Pharaoh’s daughters baby. But she knew. God knew that was her baby boy. And God had big plans for this child.

The Bible KJV

https://thirdmill.org/answers/answer.asp/file/40005

Waste not. Want not: receipts

This poem is being written in stages to highlight the things I do toward frugal living.

There’s an app for that.
I use Fetch Rewards to squeeze out every penny, flat.

Collecting is slow.
But that’s okay, watch my points grow.

I cash points in for gift cards.
Get all the value out of my receipts before I discard.

https://byjolenerice.wordpress.com/2023/05/12/waste-not-want-not-dinner/

Once there was Darkness

The poem

Kessa had left before Kol. She always left a note on her pillow for him. This night, she was home first. When she looked at her pillow, her heart sank, her note was still there. As she got closer to the bed; the realization hit her, this wasn’t her note. This was a scroll tied with a ribbon.

Celebrate You

I struggle with the words.

Emotions I can not name.

Words run and hide from me, when I see your face.

When you are near,

I force the world to appear.

Your presents drowns out the noise of my dizzying life.

Things I need to say, sound weak to my ears.

Words turn to disgust in my mouth.

Nothing, is what I can spit out.

When you lay down; your head on my shoulder, should be.

My arm around you as you sleep.

Protecting you from the demons in your dreams.

The taste of your lips is always in my mouth.

Your name on my tongue.

Your scent in my nose.

Your voice in my ears.

The feel of your skin on my finger tips.

You on my mind.

You are present always in my thoughts.

My dreams soar around you.

My body aches to be near you.

One touch from your hand, calms my crowded mind.

One word from you, turns my heart to water.

Your lips on mine, turns my body to sand.

No flower have I touched as delicate as you.

No scent have I smelt as sweet as you.

Nothing in this life have I experienced as intoxicating as you.

You are my rock.

Your strength keeps me grounded.

Your love keeps me from flying away.

You are my anchor.

You keep the tide from pulling me apart.

Your love keeps me safe from pounding waves.

You are my foundation.

Your faith covers me.

Your love amazes me.

It encompasses the beating of my heart.

The words I can not say.

The emotions I can not name.

My praises to God that you are in my life.

My praises to God that you are my wife.

My prayer to God we will grow old together.

Hand in hand.

Heart to heart.

Soul to soul.

I love you is all I can manage to say.

I love you is a weak statement of your effect on me.

I love you is all I can say to celebrate you.

Happy Birthday

Her heart overflowed as she read his words. His arms slid around her. She leaned into him. “My husband, you are sweet. Thank you.” She turned in his arms.

He wiped the tears from her cheeks.