레이블이 Carolina Bible College Fayetteville인 게시물을 표시합니다. 모든 게시물 표시
레이블이 Carolina Bible College Fayetteville인 게시물을 표시합니다. 모든 게시물 표시

2013년 11월 26일 화요일

About 'carolina bible college'|Bible Study 9-18-2012







About 'carolina bible college'|Bible Study 9-18-2012








               It               was               a               retreat               of               sorts,               a               getaway               from               all               the               burdens               and               responsibilities               of               life.

A               run               around               the               Lake               of               Serenity               was               the               breath               she               needed               to               inhale.

Emma               had               been               breathing               in               the               toxins               of               work,               society,               and               past               regrets               for               way               too               long.

She               needed               to               cleanse               her               lungs               of               it               all.
               This               vacation               was               not               in               her               plans.

Emma               had               just               lost               her               job,               lay-offs               her               boss               Bruce               Lantern               said,               but               she               knew               the               real               reason               why.

Tension               has               been               festering               between               Emma               and               Bruce               for               three               months,               and               he               had               finally               found               an               excuse               to               fire               her.

Two               weeks               prior               to               her               lay-off               notice,               Emma               had               slept               in.

The               batteries               in               her               alarm               had               died               and               she               had               awoken               only               after               the               trash               collectors               carelessly               dumped               her               metal               can               back               onto               the               asphalt.

Her               dreams               interrupted,               Emma               had               bolted               upright               to               discover               she               was               due               at               work               in               15               minutes               with               an               hour               still               of               preparations.
               "Why,               Emma,               you're               late,"               Bruce               stated               as               she               had               tried               to               slip               into               her               cubicle               unnoticed               two               hours               later.

She               had               wanted               to               plead               her               case,               but               that               would               have               only               added               to               her               boss'               victory               so               Emma               had               only               blushed,               swiveled               to               face               her               computer,               and               started               working               on               her               ad               proposal.
               "But               it's               not               fair,"               Emma               explained               to               her               mom               the               night               after               she               received               her               layoff               notice.

"Mr.

Lantern's               just               never               liked               me.

What               am               I               supposed               to               do               now?"
               "Oh,               honey,               you'll               find               something,"               her               mom               had               tried               to               sound               reassuring,               but               even               she               knew               jobs               were               scarce               lately,               and               the               long               silence               buzzing               between               them               was               hard               for               Emma               to               accept.
               "What?

There's               nothing               out               there.

I've               looked,"               Emma's               voice               almost               squeaked               in               protest.

"I               don't               have               the               experience,               and               Lantern's               not               gonna               give               me               a               glowing               reference               to               anybody,               you               know               that,               Ma."
               The               phone               call               had               ended               leaving               Emma               depressed               about               her               future.

Some               help               her               mom               was!
               Three               days               later               Emma               had               sat               scrunched               over               her               HP               laptop               at               her               kitchen               bar,               absentmindedly               sipping               on               stale               coffee               while               she               scrolled               through               job               listings               on               the               internet.

"Experience...

experience...

experience,               oh,               only               needs               a               four-year               college               degree!

Shoot,               and               three               to               five               years'               experience."               Even               though               she               was               alone,               she               had               mumbled               as               she               read               through               each               listing.

Her               meager               year               at               Lantern's               ad               agency               was               enough               to               get               her               own               place,               a               cozy               studio               apartment               on               the               other               end               of               town               from               her               parents,               but               it               would               not               be               enough               to               keep               her               there.

She               had               to               find               another               job               within               the               next               couple               of               weeks               to               avoid               a               break               in               income.

If               not,               "Nope,               no               going               there,"               Emma               had               declared               emphatically               to               herself.

"There's               gotta               be               something               out               there.

I'm               not               about               to               move               back               in               with               them.

That'd               be               miserable."
               When               her               cell               phone               rang,               Emma               had               nearly               tipped               her               remaining               coffee               over               onto               her               keyboard.

Great,               Mom.

She'd               rolled               her               eyes               at               the               ceiling,               taken               in               a               quick               breath,               and               pushed               send.

"Mom,               hi,               what's               up?"
               "Hi,               dear,               how               goes               the               hunt?"               Emma               had               heard               that               tone               in               her               mom's               voice               before.

She               was               up               to               something.
               "Same.

Nothing."
               "I'm               sorry."
               "Is               that               why               you               called,               or               what,               Ma?"
               "Well,               you               know,               I               was               just               thinking."
               "Ma,               the               last               time               you               were               just               thinking               I               ended               up               on               that               blind               date               with               Fred.

And               you               know               how               that               ended               up."
               "Hey,               you               can't               keep               hanging               that               over               my               head,               Emma.

He               seemed               nice               when               I               met               him."
               "Ma,               you               met               him               ordering               a               hotdog               at               Sonic.

He's               paid               to               be               nice."
               "Never               mind               that,               this               time               I've               actually               got               something               good               for               you."
               "Sure,               Ma,               whatever."               In               spite               of               her               frustrations,               Emma               had               listened.

Her               mom               was               going               to               send               her               away,               alone,               up               to               the               North               Carolina               mountains.

It               was               to               be               spiritual               retreat               her               mom               said.

While               Emma               wasn't               much               for               the               spiritual               part               (she               had               stopped               attending               church               when               she               moved               out),               she               wasn't               about               to               turn               down               a               free               vacation.

"But               what               about               my               looking               for               a               job?

They               got               internet               way               up               there?"
               "Aw,               you               can               take               a               weekend               break               from               that.

It'll               be               here               when               you               get               back,"               Emma's               mom               protested.

"You               can't               spend               all               your               time               isolated               in               front               of               a               computer."
               "Sure               I               can,               Ma.

Been               doing               it               for               weeks               now."
               "And               where's               that               gotten               you               that               a               weekend               away               will               interrupt?

Huh?"               Point               made,               Emma               had               relented.

Her               mom               had               always               won               their               arguments.
               So               now               here               she               was,               taking               it               all               in.
               Lake               Serenity               had               all               the               makings               of               a               peaceful               getaway.

Her               early               morning               run               was               quiet               except               for               nature's               subtle               treats.

The               calm               waters               were               littered               occasionally               with               humble               flocks               of               sleeping               ducks;               their               bills               tucked               under               one               wing,               simply               floating               along               huddled               together               for               warmth               and               protection               from               last               night's               autumn               chill.

Most               of               them               were               Mallard               ducks               of               various               colors,               but               a               few               where               what               Emma               called               farm               ducks.

This               pure               white               breed               was               what               populated               her               Granddaddy               Louis'               farm               back               home               in               Marshville.

It               wasn't               until               she               was               forced               to               take               an               Agricultural               Science               class               in               high               school               that               Emma               learned               they               were               called               White               Pekin               ducks,               but               they               were               still               farm               ducks               to               her.

Once               or               twice               she               could               hear               a               newcomer               land               and               disrupt               the               waters.

As               she               began               her               cool               down               walk               on               the               far               side               of               the               lake,               the               sun               was               just               beginning               to               stretch               over               the               mountain               peaks.

There               was               even               a               wispy               fog               floating               on               the               landscape.

Emma               popped               open               her               water               bottle               and               let               the               lukewarm               liquid               fill               her               mouth               to               the               brim               before               she               swallowed               it               all               in               two               gulps.

It               was               a               habit               her               mom               detested.

Emma               smiled               at               the               thought.
               Walking               the               last               bend               around               the               lake               brought               a               childhood               memory               into               view.

About               a               hundred               feet               ahead,               Emma               saw               a               small               stone               chapel.

It               stood               on               a               green               patch               of               land               just               faintly               touching               the               lake's               shore.

Her               heart               tensed               and               she               looked               around               in               all               directions               guiltily,               but               it               was               still               too               early               for               anyone               else               to               be               out               on               the               lake.

Her               pace               slowed,               Emma               questioned               herself               whether               or               not               to               walk               towards               the               chapel               or               around               it               and               back               to               the               cozy               cabin               her               mom               had               rented.

Emma               chose               to               walk               towards               it.
               Upon               closer               inspection,               Emma               noticed               the               chapel's               historic               character;               the               plaster               among               the               brown,               white,               and               red               stones               was               pale               with               minute               cracks               running               alongside               a               few               of               them.

It               also               appeared               to               have               been               handcrafted               for               Emma               thought               she               detected               stretched               ridge               marks               of               human               fingers               throughout               the               solidified               paste.

Emma               ran               her               own               index               finger               inside               the               rough               patterns               of               the               walls.

Wow,               whoever               built               this               must               have               loved               this               place,               she               thought.
               The               ducks               were               stirring               on               the               lake               now,               laughing               morning               greetings               to               each               other.

Emma               blinked.
               She               strolled               down               the               pebble               walkway               to               the               entrance,               laid               her               right               hand               on               the               bronze               handle               of               the               chapel's               ancient               oak               door,               and               turned.

It               was               open.

Emma               hesitated               briefly               before               pulling               the               door               and               walking               inside.

The               view               inside               flooded               her               mind               with               memories               of               going               to               church               with               Granddaddy               Louis               and               Grandma               Nancy               as               a               six-year-old               child.

She               could               almost               hear               the               little               country               choir               singing               in               the               crisscross               rafters               Gloria               Patri               as               she               clicked               her               shiny               black               Patton               shoes               down               the               hardwood               aisle               to               the               front               pew.

Grandma               Nancy               has               insisted               that               God               spoke               more               clearly               to               those               closest               to               the               preacher.
               And               now,               standing               in               the               back               of               this               lone               mountain               chapel,               Emma               remembered               what               caused               her               to               disagree               with               Grandma               Nancy.

In               high               summer               of               Emma's               sixth               grade               year,               Granddaddy               Louis               had               fallen               ill.

Every               Sunday               morning               Grandma               Nancy               had               led               her               down               their               church               aisle               to               the               front               pew.

Every               Sunday               morning               Grandma               Nancy               had               knelt               down               on               the               puny               maroon               prayer               cushion               at               the               altar,               crying               out               for               God               to               heal               her               husband               of               60               years.

And               every               Sunday               morning               the               two               of               them               would               return               to               Granddaddy's               bedside               only               to               watch               him               getting               progressively               weaker               and               weaker.
               A               week               before               school               resumed               in               September,               Grandma               Nancy               held               Emma's               hand               as               they               sat               on               the               front               pew               during               Granddaddy               Louise's               funeral.
               A               month               later,               Emma               sat               on               that               same               front               pew,               this               time               with               her               mom,               as               they               laid               Grandma               Nancy               to               rest.
               Her               mom               had               started               going               back               to               church               then               and               dragged               Emma               along,               but               Emma               no               longer               sat               in               the               front               pew.

She               couldn't.

God               seemed               silent.
               It               wasn't               until               Emma               walked               back               outside               the               chapel               that               she               realized               there               was               another               room               built               adjacent               to               the               main               chapel.

Etched               over               the               door               were               the               words               Room               of               Memory.

Though               her               heart               was               burning               in               anger,               Emma               felt               drawn               to               it.

The               door               here               was               also               open,               but               as               she               entered               Emma               saw               that               the               floors               were               not               hardwood,               but               gray               stone.

The               air               was               much               cooler               here.

There               was               only               one               stain-glassed               window               to               let               in               the               sunlight.

The               faint               rainbow               of               color               fell               upon               a               single               wooden               case               with               a               clear               glass               top.

Emma               stepped               inside               and               found               the               case               was               protecting               a               worn               black               leather               book.

It               was               the               size               of               a               pulpit               Bible.

Instead;               however,               Emma               saw               an               endless               list               of               names.

Some               of               the               names               had               a               paragraph               or               two               written               underneath               them.

It               was               a               visitor's               book               for               the               chapel.

A               plaque               hung               on               the               wall               above               the               wooden               case:
               "Thank               you               for               visiting               the               Lake               Serenity               Chapel.

Please               sign               your               name               in               our               records               book               so               that               we               may               rejoice               in               your               coming.

Feel               free               to               include               a               word               or               two               about               why               you               came.

Signed,               the               Lake               Serenity               Chapel               Community               Church               members.

Established               1942"
               Emma               lifted               the               latch               to               the               glass               top               and               began               flipping               back               through               the               pages.

People               from               all               over               had               come               to               this               chapel.

Many               of               the               names               and               places               were               faded               or               too               hard               to               make               out               due               to               poor               penmanship,               but               about               a               dozen               pages               of               flipping               brought               Emma               to               one               she               recognized.

What               first               drew               her               eye               to               the               page               was               the               hometown               -               Marshville.

She               held               the               page               up               to               the               only               light               in               the               room.

Not               only               did               she               recognize               the               town,               she               knew               the               name.

Nancy               Perry.

Grandma               Nancy               had               come               here,               and               she               had               dated               her               visit               only               two               weeks               after               Granddaddy               Louis               passed.

She               had               also               added               in               shaky               cursive               a               note.

Thank               you,               Lord,               for               healing               my               Louis.

I'm               ready               to               come               home               now.
               Staring               at               her               grandmother's               inscription,               Emma               quivered               first               with               confusion,               then               realization.

Carefully               turning               back               the               pages               to               the               next               empty               page,               Emma               picked               up               the               ink               pen               lying               beside               the               book               and               signed               her               name.

She               too               added               a               note.

I               get               it               now,               God.

You               were               never               silent.

I               just               haven't               always               listened.






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