God’s House

Hebrews 3:1-6 NIV

Jesus Greater Than Moses

3 Therefore, holy brothers and sisters, who share in the heavenly calling, fix your thoughts on Jesus, whom we acknowledge as our apostle and high priest. 2 He was faithful to the one who appointed him, just as Moses was faithful in all God’s house. 3 Jesus has been found worthy of greater honor than Moses, just as the builder of a house has greater honor than the house itself.4 For every house is built by someone, but God is the builder of everything. 5 “Moses was faithful as a servant in all God’s house,”[a]bearing witness to what would be spoken by God in the future. 6 But Christ is faithful as the Son over God’s house. And we are his house, if indeed we hold firmly to our confidence and the hope in which we glory.

Daniel had been so distracted by the pastor that he forgot about the computer program. When he wiggled the mouse, the program reported 5 errors. He emailed the report to the pastor. Then started on 2024. 

Numbers were running through Daniel’s brain. Page after page of numbers. With great urgency, he realized he needed to pee. His hand rested on the bathroom door to push as noises tore from the men’s room. “Feel” grunt, “this” grunt, “bitch!” That was a male voice. Then he heard the smacking of flesh. “Oh, it’s so hot when you talk dirty to me.” That was a different male voice. There was no way Daniel was going in there. Maybe no one was in the ladies room. 

Back at his desk, he mindlessly scanned in more documents. What had he just heard? Oh, he was pretty sure what he just heard. There was no way he could make it make sense. ‘Not in God’s house!’ He screamed in his head. 

Compile. The program was ready again. This time he pushed the button with anger. ‘10 hours,’ the program reported. While it worked, he marked 2024 off his list. 

He hadn’t really paid attention to the errors from 2025. Curiosity got the better of him. Upon opening the first error report, he discovered what the program did was grouped similar errors. In this one report was 28 errors. It was only mid-July. 28 Sundays of church lunch with no receipts. Now that Daniel had been going to a few of these lunches, he knew no church business was ever discussed but someone was marking these as a church expense. 

Folder number 2, contained limited information for 7 brand new vehicles from a big dealership in town. The program was asking for the remainder of the data. For example; who got the vehicle? And how was it being used for the church? 

Suddenly, Daniel was filled with the need to stop. He didn’t need to look anymore. The more he knew, the more involved he was, the more could be pushed over on him. BLAME HIM! He was just the secretary? Doing a job he was being paid to do?

When he crawled in the pastor’s truck to go to Sunday lunch, he couldn’t help but ask himself if this was one of the vehicles from the report? The pastor needed a vehicle to go out into the community. To spread God’s word. You need a dependable ride. But did it have to be brand fire new? Did God care if it was 1 year old or 5? 

Daniel was shocked out of his head when the pastor commented, “I saw you come out of the ladies room.”

Shivers ran through his body. What was he going to say. He finally blurted out, “I made sure there were no ladies in there.”

“Why did you feel compelled to use the ladies room?”

Daniel said a silent prayer, ‘God, choose my words.’ Then he spoke, “I heard noises coming from the men’s room that I couldn’t define. Thought it best not to intrude.”

“Remember I told you some people don’t have a lot of money so they choose to barter their tithes?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I’ve noticed you are not tithing.”

“The IRS says you can’t donate to your place of employment. Even though we are a nonprofit, a church, I’m not sure how to handle that. So I’ve divided my tithes between 2 other religious organizations that are not affiliated with us. The IRS scares me.”

“We’ll come up with another way, boy.”

This scared Daniel more than the thought of the IRS. ‘We’ll come up with another way’. That could mean anything!

Since the pastor was talking; Daniel asked, “are you married?”

“Divorced.” Was all he said. 

They say you die twice. 

“They say you die twice. The first time is when they put you in your grave. And the second time is the last time someone mentions your name.” From Alux.com

“Someone help me please.” A gravelly voice heavy with congestion sliced through the silence of the cold sterile hospital air. “Please.” The desperate plea was repeated. 

Tom patted his pocket as he entered the dimly lit room. “How can I help you Miss Ruby?”

“I can’t get the lid off my coffee.” She whimpered with an almost child like tone. 

“I got you Miss Ruby.” Tom gently removed the lid. 

“Is it hot?”

 “It might be. You might need to wait a minute.” He kept his voice calm but loud. Miss Ruby couldn’t hear it thunder. “Miss Ruby press this red button when you need me.” He showed her the button on the bed for the 10th time. She smiled like she understood but he knew she didn’t. He stayed a minute to help her eat some before moving on to other patients. 

A few hours later, that same voice pleaded with the heartless air. “Someone help me please.” Her plea was followed by mournful whimpers. “Please. I gotta go to the bathroom. Please.” The silence enveloped the hospital again. “Please.” Her cries seemed to go on for painful hours. “Please.”

Tom rushed into her room. The elderly lady couldn’t wait. She had soiled herself. Tears of embarrassment rolled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry Miss Ruby. You gotta press the red button. I can’t hear you from all the way down the hall.” A couple orderlies attended to her, as the bed was cleaned. Tom showed her the button again. 

The next morning, Tom came in to an empty room. Miss Ruby died in the night. A transfer from the nursing home, Miss Ruby was a familiar face to hospital staff. 

He had ask a special favor of the corner, to know Miss Ruby’s final arrangements. Time went by. Patients came and went. Tom forgot about Miss Ruby until the call came. No one came forward as the next of kin. Friday, the funeral home would dispose of her body. 

‘Dispose of her body’. Tom knew, working as an RN, what a paupers funeral meant. He felt like it was a body dump. 

It was pouring the rain. The grave digger had just finished covering her up. The noise of the backhoe. The smell of diesel fuel didn’t seem right in a cemetery. Miss Ruby deserved better. 

The man hopped down from the back hoe.

“We should say something?” Tom suggested.

The man spat, “bye.” He flicked his head backwards.

Tom placed the roses at what he hoped was her head. “Goodbye Miss Ruby.”

Tears rolled down Tom’s face freely. He was holding his new born baby daughter in his arms. “Do you really want to name her Ruby?” His wife murmured. 

“Please. I know it’s old timey. And no one in our family’s is named Ruby.”

“Ruby Sue,” she whispered, falling asleep. 

“Ruby Sue.” He kissed her forehead. 

The End

Lost Past; A Star Trek Story

Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation.

What do you remember?

    Picard had fallen asleep during his watch over Data. Data moaning brought him around. The force field was still in place. “Data, give me the code to turn the force field off.”

    “I cannot,” he groaned.

    “Can I override it?”

    “No.”

    “Data, we have to get you out of there.”

    “Why?”

    “You need help. You’re hurt.”

    Q appeared in the cell with Data. Picard heard Q’s voice in his head. Ask him how to deactivate the field.

    “Data, how can I deactivate the force field?”

    “You cannot. I have to touch the control panel.” 

    Q picked Data up with the greatest of ease allowing him to touch the control panel. His hand was shaking so bad that it took a full minute for the computer to comprehend his touch.

    Q and Picard took Data to sickbay where an anxious Dr. Crusher was pacing the floor. Q laid him on an observation table. His clothing was drenched with perspiration. Picard and Beverly removed his wet clothing covering him with a thick blanket. Westerfield burst into the room. With a wave of his hand, Q made Westerfield disappear. 

    All of Data’s motor functions where frozen. He just lay there like the stiff android he was.

    “I’ll stay with him,” Q offered. Picard agreed. He went to the bridge and Beverly to her office.

    It was dark in sickbay. Data was coming around. “Q?”

    “Welcome back Mr. Data.”

    “Why are you here? How did I get out of the brig? And,” he patted the blanket, “Where are my clothes?”

    Q smiled, “it’s good to have you back.”

    At that moment Picard entered sickbay. “Mr. Data.”

    Data thought for a moment, “I missed my entire shift.”

    “That’s alright. Ensign Morgan covered it adequately. Why did you lock yourself in the brig?”

    “I did not want to hurt anyone.”

    “Was that ever a fear?”

    “Yes.”

    “What do you remember?


    “Everything.”

    Picard locked eyes with Q.

Sept. 14, 2022

3 years ago, I took a leap of faith and started a blog sharing writings, drawing, random thought, poetry, pictures and more. Of course Chico. 

1,470 posts 

946   subscribers. You have given me the courage to publish:

3 books of poetry

3 novels 

2 children’s books all on KDP. 

I want to thank each and every one of you for your support. From helpful suggestions to reviews. Each gets me one step farther along in my writing journey. 

Thank you 💕

God’s House

1 Peter 4:17 ESV

17 For it is time for judgment to begin at the household of God; and if it begins with us, what will be the outcome for those who do not obey the gospel of God?

Sort and scan. He began to look forward to working on the bulletin. It meant he wasn’t sorting or scanning (what seemed like) millions of financial documents. It felt like he would never get this done. Maybe that was job security?

Using the current year, 2025 was done. Why did that little green ‘compile’ button on the software scare him? He had no idea. But it did. With a shaking finger, he pushed it. ‘3 hours and 25 minutes’, the program reported. He yawned, stretching his back and shoulders. This would be a good time to take a walk. 

No one was typically in the building on Monday morning. He just assumed the pastor was recovering from Sunday’s service. There was lots of activity in the compound but not in the church building itself. 

Daniel was lost in thought as he rounded a corner. The pastor was standing with his back to the wall. Daniel jumped when the pastor smacked the wall. There was a mass of blonde hair in front of the pastors pants. Daniel quickly turned and left. 

Later that afternoon, he was afraid to go to lunch. Afraid the pastor saw him. Afraid he’d get fired. Then a burning filled his belly; what would God think? It took all his energy not to cry. This was God’s house. He quieted his mind with the notion, this could have been the pastors wife? Yes. This was the pastors wife. And being in the building was some kind of kinky ‘mutual’ act? 

He jumped out of his skin when the pastor opened the door and plopped down in a chair. Here it came, HE was fired. 

“I know you saw that.” He paused. Waiting to see if Daniel said anything. 

“I will stick to the hallways I know.”

“Some people don’t have a lot of money. But need things.” He drug out the word need. Shifting slightly in the chair. That woman, in particular, needs daycare. Instead of being one of the charity cases the church provides for, she chooses to pay in other ways. Barter, if you will. Don’t be shocked by what people are willing to do for God.” He got up, but paused at the door. “Someday this could be you, boy.”

Daniel sat there thinking about ‘charity cases’. It was the way the pastor said it. Like it was dirty. Not just the words. 

After church on Sunday, Daniel was invited back to lunch. Rode with the pastor. Was even offered a box for his leftovers. 

Thankful Thursday

There is no specific term for the fear of only poison ivy, but it would be a specific type of botanophobia, the fear of plants. I’m not afraid of plants in general. My brain runs wild when it comes to poison ivy specifically. I am allergic to it. Approximately 85% of the U.S. population is allergic to urushiol, the oil found in the plant. People aren’t allergic to the plant itself, it’s that oil, according to the American Skin Association. 

This weekend I was helping clean up in the yard. Wasn’t paying one bit of attention to my environment. Cut a dead limb from above my head and what rained down on me? Urushiol! So I prayed, Lord please don’t let me get poison ivy in my eyes. Let it be on my neck. Not my eyes. What happens if I get poison ivy in my eyes? They swell shut! Who’s gonna help take care of me? Of Chico? Down the rabbit hole I go! 

God answered my prayer. So far, I haven’t gotten poison ivy in my eyes. It’s on my neck and chest. Benadryl cream to the rescue? Not really. I was applying it 2 and 3 times a day. That still small voice said, ‘try preparation h’. Why not? It’s meant to dry stuff up and stop itching. It was magic. I woke up with the breakout Monday. It’s Thursday. I still have the bumps. But they have shrunk. The redness and swelling are gone. So has the itching.  Praise the Lord. 

Lost Past; A Star Trek Story

Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation.

Continuum

  Picard walked onto the bridge. He looked around, “where is Data?” 

    “I have no idea sir.” Wil answered.

    “Sir, something very strange is going on. There is an overabundance of tension and despair here.” Deanna reported. 

    Westerfield scoffed, “can we just get on with the mission?”

    “We are on with the mission.” Picard was getting more and more annoyed at his old friend. “Computer, locate Lieutenant Commander Data.”

    The feminine voice of the Enterprise answered, “Lieutenant Commander Data is in the brig.”  

    “Brig!” Wil snapped.

    “Counselor, come with me.” He tapped his communicator. “Dr. Crusher, meet me in the brig.” Picard and Troi left the bridge.

    They met Beverly in the corridor to the brig. “I have had about enough of this charade.” Picard growled. Q was watching Data. Data lay face down on the floor. He wasn’t in his standard uniform. He was dressed completely in black. “Q, what are you doing here?”

    “Watching.” Came a very dry, emotionless reply. He never took his eyes off Data.

    “Do you know what is going on here?”

    “I have an idea?” Q stood as the door to the brig slid open.

    “Westerfield?” Deanna gasped. 

    “You’re not welcomed here.” Q roared. He snapped his fingers and Westerfield was gone.

    “Everyone seems to hate Charles,” Picard remarked.

    “Hate is too nice of a word, Picard.” Q spoke.

    Everyone turned their attention back to Data. “Data?” Beverly got as close to the force field as she could and knelt. He rolled his head toward her. He was sweating profusely. “Why are you locked in?”

    “I am going to hurt someone. I cannot allow that to happen.”

    “Hurt someone, how?”

    “I do not know. It is best this way.” He drew a sharp breath, rolling his head back toward the wall. His body flipped over and began to levitate. Beverly stood up, moving backward toward Picard and Deanna. His body began to jerk. You could hear him muffle a scream. Q waved his hand making the force field sound proof.

    “Why did you do that?” Deanna asked with displeasure.

    “If you had 4 people standing around gawking at you, would you want them to hear you?”

    “I don’t want anything to happen to him. He is a fine officer and as far as I’m concerned a great person.” Picard remarked.

    “I can’t control what happens to him, Picard. Like you, I am only an observer.”

    Data began to shake. You could tell by the pain riddled expression on his face that he was suffering. His body bowed in the middle.

    Deanna shuttered, “oooo.”

    “What?” Beverly asked.

    “Cold chills.” She stared at Data, walking closer to the force field.

    “Counselor,” Q hissed.

    Data was shaking violently. “If he was a person, he would be dead by now wouldn’t he?” She commented more to herself than anything.

    “Yes,” Q answered.

    She felt a presence with Data. She held up her hand to see if she was really feeling what she thought was there. “ST…” In an instant Q was behind her holding his hand over her mouth. Data’s body became still.

    “What?” The voice only Q heard was distorted almost unrecognizable.

    “Nothing. Nothing at all.” To the crew of the Enterprise, he was talking to air.

    “Q, you know better than to lie to me. I have always been able to see right through you. Let her finish.”

    Q slowly removed his hand from Deanna’s mouth, backing away. “Finish your statement.” He stared at the floor.

    “I was going to say stop.”

    “Why?” The voice asked. “Why!” It shrieked. He was visibly shaking. He knelt in the floor next to the force field. “I can’t do this.” He never looked up.

    “Why?” Came an irritated question.

    “The Continuum has forbidden it. I can’t get involved.”

    “Since when have you done what the Continuum has instructed?” Q lowered his head to the floor. “Why would this distrustful Beta say stop?”

    Deanna looked around at Picard and Beverly. They were just as confused as she was. Who or what was Q talking too?

    Data was still floating. “Why!” 

    Q jumped, repeating the question. “Why?”

    

    Deanna whispered, “You’re hurting him.”

    “Hurting him? I don’t understand.”

    Q, still with his head on the floor said, “Explain.”

    “Data had his emotion chip installed.”

    Q finally looked up. As he did, a silhouette was standing beside Data. Tears rolled down Q’s face.

    “He can feel?”

    Q couldn’t control the crack in his voice, “yes.”

    The silhouette stroked Data’s hair. Then lowered him to the floor. The crew looked on in amazement. 

    “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?


    “How would you suggest I would have done that?”

    “I didn’t know my Prince. I’m so sorry.”

    “Let me help you.” Q begged.

    “I can’t do that.”

    Q was now sobbing, “I am omnipotent. You can’t destroy me.”

    “No but the Continuum can.”

    “Please.”

    “No.”

    “No!” He shouted. “I’d rather have you.” The moment it left his lips he knew he shouldn’t have said it. “I’m sorry. Please let me help you.”

    “I’ve done enough. Not like this.”

    “No!” Q held out his hand. “Don’t leave. Where are you?” The silhouette was gone. He laid his head on the floor. After several minutes he stood up exposing his tear stained face to the crew, “I hope you are happy, Beta.” He vanished with a hiss. 

    Beverly threw herself to the floor. “Data!” She patted the floor trying to get his attention. “Data, wake up!” He rolled is head toward her. “Data turn the force field off.”

    He glared at Deanna, “leave me alone.” He could barely speak.

    “I can’t do that.”

    “Data, may I stay?” Picard asked.

    “Very well,” Data closed his eyes.

    “Captain, please.” Beverly jumped up in protest.

    “It’s okay. Don’t let Westerfield in here on your way out.”

    “Yes, sir.” Deanna replied.