It’s 2PM and the day has stalled.
The kids are watching a useless Youtube segment, useless in my maddened mother conscience anyway. While they laugh, dabbling in the idols of the age, I am browsing the World Wide Web, Facebooking for female adult conversation.
Two hour nap time no longer exists, which means, what’s left of my sanity wouldn’t remain either– except–this turn of events has forced me to wake early, two hours early before children get up, two hours of sunrise and peace and of quiet.
“Kids!” I startle them into a daze. “Turn it off. Right now. Turn it off.” For better or worse, they’re used to my abrupt interruptions of urgency. I shut the computer and grab the Bible, opening to the twenty-third Psalm. As God is my witness…
Every so often I get the feeling I’m being watched, and I don’t mean by human eyes. I feel it mostly in my dreams, the ones to visit since I was a girl. In them I am being chased, pursued by forces set to destroy all that is good.
“Kids, when the Bibles are gone, when the Bibles and the bodies are burning–“, a child’s voice cuts me off before I continue. They’re sitting on the floor looking up, facing their mother, turning their backs to the silent black screen.
“Bodies?” he asks.
“The Christians”, I answer.
Repeat after me. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, and on and on we go until the house of the LORD forever, with the help of God, we will with the help of God. Cherish the Word. Hide it in your heart for the day of trouble…
Keep watch my little flock.
This isn’t about burning the black screen or chucking the computer out the window, though the thought has crossed my mind. We don’t have television channels, but we do have the Internet, and we’re not afraid to use it.
Let the reader understand.