At Home ~ Part V

            

#NoPower ‘Therefore, I will teach them; this time I will teach them my power and might. Then they will know that my name is the Lord.’ ~ Jeremiah 16:21

            That had been Brittany’s one stipulation about the article when Mrs. Perkins had called her for a quote. It was happening, with or without her, so Brittany insisted one of the power verses be included, since they were the whole reason for the article. It had either been that or no quote.

            Brittany tried not to grin with pride as Dad read over the last of the article. ‘Miss King has certainly proven the power of social media. With barely two weeks since the launch of her Twitter account, #NoPower has received more then 500 followers, including several celebrities, as well as the residents of Connors, re-tweeting between friends and family, extending the circle to the West Coast and back. Responses are in amazement at the resilience and strength of this 13-year-old and the reservation she displays in her faith.’

            ‘“These verses are my medicine, as much as anyone else’s,” King commented on her sudden fame. “I started it for myself because I didn’t want fear to win. Now, it’s helping other people too. I’m happy about that.’”

            Brittany pulled at her hair. Did that sound as corny as she thought it did? It wasn’t a direct quote, but a good summery of what she’d said to Mrs. Perkins. She looked up as Mom snatched the paper from Dad, her too-bright smile on her face. “Brittany King is the daughter of Deputy Declan King of Connors Sheriff’s Department and Patty King a receptionist and tutor with Smart Apple Clinic. King has no doubts of following her father’s footsteps into law enforcement.’”

            She wasn’t enthusiastic about the article like Dad was, but at least she was trying. Brittany just ducked her head farther over her plate. They both needed to stop beaming at her, like, three seconds ago. “It’s not like I wrote the article.”

            “But you’re the one the whole county’s thinking about when they read it.” Dad patted the paper heartily. “I can’t wait for all of my colleagues to comment on it tomorrow.”

            “Cuse they’re so eager to inflate your big head.” Mom teased.

            Dad gestured with his fork. “Brittany, meet kettle over there.”

            Brittany laughed along with him. This was nice. They were laughing, Dad was home for some vacation so she got to see him before and after school every day…

            “Pushing these petty squabbles aside.” Mom redirected. “Let’s discuss Thanksgiving.”

            Dad groaned. “There’s enough petty squabbles for an ulcer.”

            “It’s at your parent’s house this year.” Mom pointed with her own fork, sporting a green bean.

            “It doesn’t matter whose house, Patty.” Dad spoke over a bite of meatloaf. “Our parents hate each other.”

            “There’s always hope.” Brittany put in, giggling.

            “Not after twenty years.”

            Before Mom could jump to her family's defense  the phone rang. Brittany offered to get it so her parents could go about their ‘squabbling’. I wonder which parent they get it from?

            “Hello, King household.” Brittany stated, clicking the receiver on.

            “Saw your expose.”

            Brittany’s heart slammed to a halt.

            “Thought it drug on a little…”

            Brittany dropped the receiver, backing away from it. But it was like the voice- his voice- followed her. “It… Daddy, it’s him!”

            The jovial air of the dining room dropped like she had the phone. It was like he sensed their attention and went on speaking. “Let me tell you something about power, little girl…”

            “Who is this!?!” Dad demanded, swiping the phone up. Mom took Brittany by the shoulders and Brittany couldn’t press into her far enough. Her mom could wrap her up in that warm cocoon like she’d always done, and ban the bad things away.

            “Interesting,” Dad barked, louder then Brittany had ever heard. “Now let me paint you a picture…”

            He charged out into the living room, the rest lost on Brittany’s ears. She turned into Mom. “It’s him. What’s he…”

            “Pray, Brittany.” Mom told her, tightening her arms. “Just pray.”

`&`&`&`&`&`

            “He had to have grown up wealthy.” Declan paced from one officer to the other. “And there’s got to be a smudge on his record, somewhere. You don’t become a burglar overnight.”

            “But there’s no telling if he was caught for any previous burglaries.” Officer Roland pointed out. “Anybody can break into a house.”

            “Ok,” Chief Wray rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “Local boy, likely born in the 80s, upper-class childhood… tell me that this helps us?”

            Immediately after the call, Declan had called a unit to stay in with Patty and Brittany while he stormed into the station, demanding to go over the suspect list. He’d heard this guy’s voice… his breathing, and his twisted sense of being top dog. Only his speech pattern was too sophisticated to use the term ‘top dog’. And he’d sounded well-versed in intimidation, but Declan knew that that was where his judgment clouded. He was right to be off this case; but he couldn’t leave this station tonight without at least having some names. A name, if they were lucky.

            “I’ve got a Harvey Fernell and a Quinn Elkwood.” Officer Broskey read off his sheet. “The former’s the son of the CEO for that cookie factory, latter’s a self-made career coach. Cushy childhoods, Fernell’s got a few DUIs.”

            “It’d have to be something more aggravated then that.” Chief Wray shook his head. “This guy’s just proved that he has buttons and they can be pushed.”

            “But suppose he’s as good at hiding it then, as he is now.” Broskey mentioned. “No offense chief, but he has been dodging us.”

            The chief’s face sunk in a deep frown. “No one’s that good.”

            “Ok,” Officer Graves stopped clicking on his screen. “We’re assuming this guy’s local due to his ability to maneuver around the area. Suppose his job has something to do with that?”

            “How so?” Declan asked him directly; he’d take anything at this point.

            “Landscaping?” Graves suggested. “Working with any of the power companies; Conners is serviced by at least six… Exterminators, the propane companies…”

            That list was still too long, the possibilities endless. The every minute that ticked by was another minute his little girl had to live in fear. Declan pressed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Is this the price, God? For proclaiming the faith, for standing by Your name?

`&`&`&`&`&`

#NoPower ~ ‘For the kingdom of God is not a matter of talk, but of power.’ ~ 1 Corinthians 4:20

The tweets went on, the number of followers rising with each new one that she- Brittany King- posted. It had caught the attention of Ellen DeGeneres, Dr. Charles Stanley, all the presidential campaigns… HIS ATTENTION!

Alec stared hard into the wall, glaring off with the crack that his hand had made. That had gotten the pit bull barking again. With each yip, Alec wanted more and more to stroll over to the neighbor’s apartment and wrangle the puny mutt’s neck. That’s how it had gone down with the old man. Mr.Szekely had thought himself mightier and Alec had proven him wrong… with his bare hands.

“You don’t get much more powerful then that, little girl.” Alec seethed at the wall. He had been sure that the phone call would work at getting her out of his spotlight. It was his time, his story that should’ve been in the paper. But noooo, this morning, like all the other mornings before, there had been a tweet. She wasn’t stopping! She was stealing what was rightfully his! Just like everyone else- school, home, work, it was all a continuous cloud over him, overshadowing, undermining…

It’s gonna end with her! Alec vowed. This’ll be even better, in the end really. A cop’s daughter. And they still won’t catch me… not until I want them to.

`&`&`&`&`&`

            “Keep the fire station open for the final week of June.” Declan demanded over the phone. “I know it’s later then other years, but… you can have your vetern’s BBQ any weekend! Those guys are retired, they’re not going anywhere!”

            CLICK!

            Declan looked up at Howard. “The fire chief just hung up on me.”

            Howard snickered. “How many times have I warned you not to raise your voice to him. I can see why you didn’t graduate in public relations.”

            Declan hung up the phone on his end, debating telling him where to stick it. Coming in to work with Howard on the citizen’s academy was his last shred of sanity between Patty working and Brittany at school most of the day. Declan had been able to hold his own for the first four days, getting the house prepped for Christmas.

Since Thanksgiving wasn’t at their house this year, he figured they could just skip right to the reindeer figurines and fake-frosted ivy wreaths. Patty hadn’t said anything, but he knew the free-range of seasons was driving her nuts. She liked to follow the calendar like a Bible.

“Hey King!”

Declan looked up from his thoughts to see Officer Damon enter the bullpen, folder in hand and face eager. Damon was in his first year on the Conners beat. His face hadn’t had time to harden yet. But with the tone around his house this past month, Declan welcomed it. “What’s up, Damon?”

“Blueprints.” Damon announced.

“Blueprints.” Declan and Howard answered back to him.

“You remember how Graves mentioned that maybe our Blank Burglar worked in electric or landscaping; anything that got him out and around the communities, so he could jump so easily from one to the other.”

Yes. Declan recalled hitting that wall, along with many others.

“Well, I had to make a run to get my permit in for carry and conceal,” Damon went on to explain. “When it hit me, right as I was standing in line. City hall. Everything- EVERYTHING- gets processed through that building. Including new construction or subdivisions that go up within the corporation limits.’

‘I did a little checking into the houses that our guy’s hit so far.” Damon held out the folder he had been holding. “Every one of the families had put in new zoning permits with city hall within the last year.”

Howard raised a skeptic eyebrow. “Them and twenty others, every week. Damon, those offices are as behind in their files as we are…”

“I know, I know,” Damon nodded, trying to reel them back in. “The only house that didn’t match this criteria was the Szekely house. And something started bugging me. The Szekelys were retired; this was probably common knowledge. What if the burglar was counting on one or both of them being home? In fact, what if he already knew?”

I hope this kid hasn’t lost sleep over this. Declan held a sigh back. He could admit that he was open to theories, but he wasn’t interested in the Red Bull-juiced imaginings of a rookie cop.

“I wouldn’t have thought to connect the two facts until I noticed this,” Damon pointed to a footnote on the Szekely file. “Alexander Morria.”

Howard’s head picked up at that. “The clerk at city hall. I’ve been playing poker with them since ’74.”

“Alexander Morria, Jr.” Damon emphasized. “Family friends with the Szekelys, and landed a job as meter reader with city hall.”

Meter reader. Declan looked at the name, trying to put a face. “Lots of sons follow in their father’s career occupations…”

“That job wasn’t Alex Jr.’s choice.” Damon flipped a few pages over. “His dad pulled some strings to get him in there after he was kicked out of Kent State. We’ve been looking for local arrest records; not records from locals who lived in other states. I called over to the college’s administration.’

‘Couldn’t get the files released- we’ll need the chief for that- but the secretary told me that he got into several fights with other students. The last one landed the guy in a hospital with a ruptured eardrum and crushed elbow.”

Okay, color Declan interested. “Damon, this is thorough work, but we can’t really pursue anything out of this. A friendly relation isn’t enough to…”

The vibration of his cell phone stopped him. He unclipped it. “Patty.”

“Maybe she can talk to the fire chief for you.” Howard mentioned with a snicker.

“What?” Damon asked.

Declan and Howard shared a glance, Declan putting the phone to his cheek. “Patty…”

“Declan,” Patty rushed. “The school called and Brittany didn’t get on her bus.”

Declan’s brow furrowed. “Was she spending the afternoon…”

“No friends, no flute, no nothing.” Patty confirmed. “I’ve tried her phone and it’s not picking up. Hack into the GPS!”

“Honey,” Declan started walking out of the room. “Back off of the Jason Bourne movies…”

“Then what do you suggest? Our daughter’s missing!”

Declan pushed down the pit that occupied his stomach. “Listen, the bus drivers have made mistakes before. I’ll go home and be there to greet our daughter as she comes off the bus.”

Patty’s sigh lasted two seconds too long. “Declan…”

            “It’ll be fine, Patty.” Declan said, reaching the locker room. He needed to believe that.

~To Be Continued~

At Home ~ Part IV

  

#NoPower ~ ‘I will tear off your veils and save my people from your hands, and they will no longer fall prey to your power. Then you will know that I am the Lord.’ ~ Ezekiel 13:21

            

           He stared at the words, waiting to get the joke. It was the first one that he had seen, but according to most of the people in town, it had become their daily check-up. He backtracked to the first one of the total six. They were similar, and all out of the Bible. And people are buying into this crap!?!

            Started up by Brittany King almost a week ago. Six tweets… going on four hundred followers!! He felt the blood pumping through his neck, against his temples, coming out in hot seethes through his nostrils. “No. No, no…”

            He swung around, kicking the floor lamp to the floor. It barely had time to crack before he was kicking the end table over too, relishing in the shattered pieces. Next door, the neighbor’s pit bull started its gruff barking.

            “It’s my spotlight!” He narrowed his eyes across the room, to nothing in particular. “People know who their focus should be on; me! Not some Disney Channel reject, and definitely not God! They couldn’t measure up to me if they tried!”

`&`&`&`&`&`

            #NoPower ~ ‘Yours, O Lord, is the greatness, and the power, and the glory and the majesty and the splendor, for everything in heaven and earth is yours.’ ~ 1 Corinthians 29:11

            
          Declan had to smile at the glance he took over Officer Aber’s shoulder, while his colleague checked his Twitter account in the break room; nicknamed to all the ‘Hut’. Declan had strolled in for his sixth cup of java and couldn’t resist noticing. He was too lazy to get one of his own. Patty had one and that kept him abreast with anything that she felt was important.

            However, with the all the talk his little girl was getting in and out of the station, Declan didn’t need an account. Her grounding was over tomorrow. Whatever verses Brittany had wanted posted over the last week Patty had put them in, giving them both a glimpse into their daughter’s impressive research skills. And it was paying off; her tweets were becoming the talk of the town.

            I don’t even know how to categorize my pride on this one. Declan strolled from the Hut and took the back stairs to the locker room. The usual fatigue of the morning wasn’t there to bother him. If the workload is light enough this afternoon, I’ll hit the gym. I should be home by six…

            “King.”

            Or not. Declan straightened at the door to the locker room, turning to see Chief Wray coming. His face said it all, but Declan asked anyway. “What is it, Chief?”

            “A bigger mess then any of us needs.” Chief Wray started, and then paused. “Dispatch picked up a news bulletin from Channel 8. Apparently, the Blank Burglar gave them a call and an open invitation to his latest crime scene.”

            Uh no. Declan observed the obvious. “He’s ahead of schedule.”

            “Must be following a new one.” The chief cocked his head and they went in to the locker room. No one else was there to overhear.

            “It was the home of Mr. and Mrs. Szekely,” Chief Wray told him. “Mr. Szekely was home at the time… he killed him.”

            Declan’s blood chilled. It didn’t matter how many years one worked at this job, the news of a death dropped the bottom out of your stomach.

            “He’s too well-organized to make a mistake like that.” Declan looked down the silent row of lockers. Each represented a hard-working man’s life; lives brought together to catch these guys so that THIS didn’t happen! “It was deliberate.”

            Chief Wray nodded. “I’ve got a unit, the ME, and the tech guys out there and we’ll be de-briefing in a couple of hours. That list of suspects we came up with a few days ago, we’ll be picking that apart.”

            Declan nodded. “I’ll…”

            “You won’t be joining us.” Chief Wray stated.

            “WHAT!?”

            The chief pulled out his phone and handed it to Declan to show him a picture. “He took all the pictures and artwork down again. Only, in purple spray paint, he covered the living room wall with this.”

            Declan eyed the picture. He didn’t comprehend for a few seconds, but then the message went through. WHO HAS THE POWER NOW?

`&`&`&`&`&`

            “So, this’ your way of telling me- gently- that he’s coming after us?” Patty stared at Declan across their bed. “Coming home early, announcing this newfound vacation time, and this sudden urge to keep a firearm upstairs and down!?”

            “You’re just upset that it’s your firearm that’s downstairs.” Declan attempted a tease. Patty’s eyes blazed. “I’m serious here, Declan. I’m angry and I’m serious, so don’t push it. You haven’t told Brittany.”

            “Because I knew we needed to talk first.” Declan said.

            Patty made a face at him. “Nice to be considered… why?”

            “Because I already know what you’re going to say.” Declan sat on the bed, patting at the space beside him. Patty sat, her jaw squared. Declan took her hand, tracing the knuckles. “We’re narrowing the suspect list, and efforts to find him are doubled now that… you know.”

            “Oh, I’m well aware.”

            “That being said,” Declan squeezed her hand. “We need to let Brittany continue her tweets.”

            Her entire face exploded and she ripped her hand from his. “Are you insane!?”

            “Probably.” Declan admitted. 
            “That goes against every police tidbit that you’ve ever taught us!”

            “Honey…”

            “Don’t taunt, don’t antagonize,” she was off the bed now, pacing. “Let the police do their job!”

            “Patty.” Declan hardened his voice enough to get her crazy-eyed attention. “I know what I’ve said. But what have we been teaching Brittany? That God’s controller and Father of the universe. Well, she’s living that out. What message would we be sending if we asked her to stop?”

            “That we want her to be safe.” Patty said. “That we want our baby out of the sights of an ex-burglar, now murderer!”

            “I want that more then anything.” Declan told her. “But she’s already there. Patty, I will do everything as an officer and a father to keep him away from her. But as a Christian, I don’t see how Brittany could have any better weapon then her tweets right now.”

            Patty’s eyes misted. “Declan, he has the power to kill…”

            “And that’s more powerful then God?” Declan took her arms. “Please, don’t take this as callous or that I’m using her as bait. But I just keep thinking, what good are our teachings if we’re not going to believe in them?”

            Patty’s features had simmered, her breath evening out. She studied him, eyes trailing over their years together. They had trekked through houses, jobs, fertility treatments, Brittany, friends, and in-laws. They had lived it all through faith, as best as they could. Would they stop now?

            “Declan,” Patty placed her hands on the sides of his face. “You have hunted down burglars, junkies, and yes, a psycho or two; but it has always been you and a hundred other officers. A hundred other targets standing between you and this twisted psychopath… They’re not there this time and I… I’m terrified.”

            Declan drew her in, folding his arms around her. “I know. Me too.”

            It said in the Bible somewhere to give that terror to God, along with trust in Him. But Patty didn’t need any more words right now. Declan kept his cheek nuzzled in her corn-silk hair, keeping his grip on her body. The first time he saw Patty’s hair, he’d been tempted to touch it, to see if it was even real.

            Now he knew it was real. Gracing the head of the most loud, impulsive, and overachieving woman he had ever known. Declan couldn’t lose her, or Brittany. He knew it had crossed the Blank Burglar’s mind. Now he just had to trust that God’s plans were above that thought.

~To Be Continued~

At Home ~ Part III

'No man has power over the wind to contain it;

no one has power over the day of his death.'

~Ecclesiastes 8:8a~

          “This sure is taking you a long time.” The message read, the voice deep and altered. “No prints, no witnesses, no security feeds…” a laugh. “Tell me, what does the department do in these helpless situations? Maybe get the cast of Criminal Minds to come in…”

            Declan listened to the message, his insides crawling. Their ‘Blank Burglar’ had thrown a new play with his latest burglary. Showing his true narcissistic colors, from the sound of it.

            “This guys knocks cocky out of the park.” Officer Perrin Mikhail shook his head, seated across the aisle from Declan.

            “Need to step up your game, officers.” The message was wrapping up. “It’s our game, after all. But then, who knows when another noisy little brat might get in the way.”

            Declan kept his eyes shut for that part. Chief Wray had warned him beforehand, out of personal courtesy. So he wouldn’t flip out.

            “He’s sticking to his schedule.” Chief Wray stated, his professional tone masking anything personal. “Obviously, because it makes it easier for the media to follow him. We know that’s what he thrives on, but… this is the first time he’s left a message.”

            He stretched out that line, but didn’t elaborate. Every uniform in here shared the same sentiment. The chief swallowed. “I know our blood’s boiling, but we need to consider this a good thing. It’s finally telling us something about this Blank Burglar.’

            ‘After the break-in at the Kings’, there was a lot of sympathy and several evening news reports covering the incident. The community’s been phenomenal in sending their thoughts and their prayers. This message makes it obvious that our guy doesn’t like that.’

            Chief Wray huffed. “We've pegged him as a narcissist, desperate for our attention and whatever recognition that he feels he deserves. And I’m not having my town live in fear because someone didn’t win enough trophies as a kid.”

            Murmurs of agreement slunk through the room.

            “So, here we go,” the chief pounded the table. “He’s Caucasian and in his late twenties. He’s displayed enough sophistication and organization to likely be employed, but it’s a job flexible enough for him to commit robberies during the day. Everything he does is to prove that we can’t catch him. Taking the pictures off of the walls and nothing of excessive value is taken. This isn’t about profit for him, it’s about the power. Every ‘job’ that he pulls off only fools our community farther into thinking he has it.”

            Declan waited until he was out of the bullpen and lost the battle and shot a text to Brittany. Sure she’d be in school, but this pushed past that. Four agonizing minutes passed before he got an answer.

            It’s a good day, Dad. Thanx. Luv U!

            Short and sweet, and those stupid abbreviations. She was fine. It didn’t relieve the burn in Declan’s chest though. Lord, Brittany’s finally back in her room. Don’t let this guy scare her out again.

`&`&`&`&`&`

            “He robbed the Ottens!” Patty exclaimed before Declan got in the door. She was pacing from the foyer and into the kitchen. “That’s just…” she came back in. “I can’t… the nerve of that guy!”

            “My thoughts exactly.” Declan sighed, following her back into the kitchen. “You just voice them better.”

            “I don’t see how this guy is managing to rip off half of the town.” Patty blew out her breath.

            “Being one guy is the whole point.” Declan moved in to help her with the groceries. “And hitting in the same neighborhood twice is upping his game.”

            Patty snorted, slamming the spice cupboard closed. “Some game.”

            “Why’s he so intent on it?”

            They both looked back to see Brittany standing there, journal tucked in her hands. It was the striped one she used to try and compose her own flute solos. “All the kids at school complain how they can’t stay home alone or ride their bikes anywhere because their parents are afraid.” She eyed Declan then. “What’s the point, Dad? Why does he want everybody to be so afraid? You’ve already said he doesn’t want to get rich.”

            “And that info doesn’t leave this house.” Declan reminded her. He closed the door to the fridge on their new cartoon of orange juice. “Think about it like show-n-tell, Brittany. You were always excited when it was your turn, right? All eyes on you, listening to whatever you had to say.”

            Brittany studied him with a furrowed brow. “Yeah, I guess.”

            “This guy wants to always be the one doing show-n-tell.” Declan told her. “He wants all eyes on him all the time. He’s power-hungry for attention.”

            Brittany’s face didn’t quite get it. But she smiled all the same. “Well, he’ll feel pretty dumb when you all catch him.”

            Declan spotted Patty’s eyes over Brittany’s head, still holding their fear. Of catching a burglar or of living up to their daughter’s faith? It was a real toss-up.

`&`&`&`&`&`
'Praise be to the name of God for ever and ever; wisdom and power are his.'
~Daniel 2:20~            

           Power.

            Brittany settled her Bible back onto her bed. The word from Dad’s explanation kept playing over through Brittany’s mind in a short, yet powerful loop- pun intended. She’d already looked it up in Mom’s thesaurus, but the definition wasn’t satisfying her. She remembered the force that the ‘Blank Burglar’ had put on her neck. The fear that kept her on the edge of her bed. It had had the power to hold her there and she wasn’t proud of it.

            What does Bible Compass have to say? Brittany got up and walked to her desk. She brought the website onto her laptop screen, finding the search engine and typed in power. Verses racked up quickly, numbering over three hundred. Brittany chewed at her lip and shifted her eyes over the topical index. Ability… Almighty… Justice, Knowledge, Law…

            They went on and on, ending in ‘wisdom’ and ‘worth’. Her brain was beginning to tingle, like Spiderman and his spider sense. And, if it was going where she thought it was, then she had a lot of work to do. Good thing it wasn’t a school night.

`&`&`&`&`&`

            “She’s drooling on her notebook.” Patty tried to keep the giggling light at Brittany sprawled over her comforter.

            “She has her index cards out.” Declan noted, picking up a few. They were a florescent green. “She’s serious.”

            Patty carefully removed Brittany’s notebook from under her head. Declan put the index cards on the nightstand and draped Brittany’s flamingo throw blanket over her. Brittany had such a quiet, determined personality, but made up for it with the blinding colors of her room and personal items. He was grateful she had that expression. He followed Patty out of Brittany’s bedroom, lingering a look until he turned the light off and shut the door.

            Then turned to get a deep, unrelenting kiss from Patty. “That… what?”

            “That’s for doing such a good job.” Patty snagged his waist with her arms. “I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat at the beginning.”

            “And I shouldn’t have tried to tiptoe around you…”

            “No, let me finish.” Patty stopped him. “We’re both parents. We share the same hopes and nightmares where Brittany’s concerned. And it was wrong of me to think less of you, as a parent.”

            Declan returned her embrace. “And I’m sorry I kept certain information from you.”

            “Yeah you are.” Patty cocked her brow. Declan laughed, squeezing her close. Man, she felt good.

            “Now,” Patty started pulled him across the hall. “Come show me how sorry you are.”

            Declan’s eyebrows shot up. Lord, I find myself more grateful every minute.

`&`&`&`&`&`
#NoPower - 'But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; 
and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria,
and to the ends of the earth ~ Acts 1:8

            “Why is Gina Perkins coming this way?” Patty glanced at Declan wearily.

             Declan heard the click of the stiletto heels that Gina wore to church every week. It was part of the woman's denial to her five foot one inch height. Though Gina should’ve figured by now that her mouth was more then big enough to make up for it.

            “Be nice.” Declan ironically whispered to his wife, sharing a look with Brittany. “It’s Sunday, after all.”

            Brittany snickered, stealing a donut hole off of Declan’s plate from the spread in the fellowship hall. He prepared to reprimand her- teasingly- but suddenly Gina was shoving him back and taking Brittany by the elbow. “Young lady, I wanted to be the first one to tell you, what you’re doing is marvelous!”

            Declan looked over at Patty, who gave a bewildered shrug. Brittany, donut hole hanging out of her mouth, looked just as confused. Gina flashed her best you-know-you-can’t-say-no smile at Patty. “Patty, Declan, you’ve got to let me bag this little treasure for an interview at the Courier. It’d be a nice change of pace; I’ve already mentioned it to my editor and he likes it."

            People were glancing their way now, she was gushing that loudly.

            “Gina.’ Patty held up a hand to stop her- or at least slow her down. “What’re you talking about?”

            Gina looked back at Brittany, who gave a hard swallow to her donut hole. “She’s, um… she’s talking about my tweets.”

            “What tweets?” Declan looked down at his daughter with growing unease. Anything to do with social media gave him acid reflux.

            “I started up a Twitter account on Friday night.” Brittany stated slowly; then her speed picked up. “I know you don’t want me having one, but I needed something to do. With you talking about power and stuff, and there’re over eight hundred verses in the Bible to choose from. I thought I could give them to people so they wouldn’t be so scared…”

            Declan put his plate down beside his Bible so he could put both hands on his hips. “You made a Twitter account!?”

            “When we said you couldn’t.” Patty joined him in his stormy parental front.

            A light went off in Gina’s head then and she backed up. “I guess there’s still some things to talk about, Patty. I’ll call you later this week. I am serious about that interview though.”

            Patty nodded Gina off into the chatting crowd of their church. Then she and Declan herded Brittany off to the side, near the coat closet.

            “I’m giving you ten seconds.” Declan told her.

            Brittany fired away. “I know the rules and I didn’t think. I got excited, I’m sorry. I just… I needed to get something out there.”

            “Something.” Patty repeated. “Like what?”

            “Like how God’s more powerful then the burglar.” Brittany squirmed, scratching at the back of her left ear. She had done that since she was five, any time she was cornered. “I was going to tell you, honest.”

            “Ok, well honesty aside.” Patty glanced at Declan. “You know you’re not to talk about your father’s job, let alone tweet about it.”
            “I’m not.” Brittany insisted. “I’m tweeting Bible verses. They all involve the word ‘power’ right now, but there are others. I put a new one up every day. It… it’s my answer to Satan for trying to scare me. The Bible’s what we’re supposed to fight him with, right?”

            “Of course.” Declan agreed. “But where’s the sense in starting spiritual warfare on a broken trust.”

            Her eyes fell. Declan looked back, watching the congregation begin to float into the second service. “Let’s talk more about this at home.”

            “And you’re grounded.” Patty finished for him.

            “But can I still do the tweets?” Brittany asked, grabbing Declan’s arm. “Dad, they’re important. I’m only on my second one, but I’ve gotten almost fifty followers. What if it’s helping them?”

            Patty squeezed her shoulder. “Brittany, if you need to talk to someone…”

            “I don’t.” Brittany cried. “But if my tweets are helping people… please don’t make me stop.”

            Declan and Patty looked at each other. They were both standing on the cavernous edge of parenting. Who wanted to step out first?

~To Be Continued~

Waiting...

'Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.'

~Hebrews 4:14-16~

Waiting...

The kind that the new fathers do when their wives are delivering their babies. When you saw an attack on the news and you're counting the seconds for your loved one to call you back. Or when you're permanently glued to your inbox, awaiting a reply from that highly anticipated job interview you took. Prisoners awaiting their trial and sentencing. 

Waiting is terrible as it gruels and grates on your nerves, the unknown possibilities occupying your headspace, no matter what distractions you try to fill it with. You don't take a full breath until the waiting is over, even if the news you were waiting for is bad. You're just so relieved to finally know. 

In these verses of Hebrews, Jesus is called the High Priest who understands our suffering, having experienced it Himself. That means everything; including waiting. Jesus knows what it is to wait. That's what had Him on His knees and weeping in Gethsemane. It's what He felt in the courtyard among the Roman soldiers, and in the courtrooms of Sanhedrin and Pontius Pilate. He went through a lot of waiting, knowing what laid ahead for Him.

Yet, He didn't let it keep His focus from God. He closed His prayer in Gethsemane with 'Not my will, but Thine'. Maybe He was fearful as He said those words, but still, He said them. He knew that they were true and would carry Him through the long hours that were ahead.

God's word is an anchor in many times of trouble and worry. Words that remind us of the One who's in control. The One who loves us. The One who waited to die for us, so that He could welcome us to Him in Heaven!