A Fourth of July Story
One Sunday in July
It was a big Fourth of July Bash and all the relative's showed up for a cook-out
in the Park. On the banks of Nolan Creek, Bell County, Texas, Grandma set
up her "throne" in the Belton City Park, and held sway over the crowd in a
regal manner.
Grandma had a terrible reputation among all of us grand-kids. It was rumored
that 'nobody' (and I mean 'Nobody') could 'switch' you with the magical force
of Grandma. She had raised ten children (mostly on-her-own) and she was
held in an esteem approaching awe by us young 'whipper-snappers'.
My cousin, 'Rocky', and me got in an argument over a sno-cone ... I can't
remember now exactly how the argument went ... but it seems that we had
bought different flavors and had promised each other a bite of the other's
sno-cone so we could double-our-pleasure so-to-speak. Well, I knew that the
'good stuff' settled into the bottom of the Dixie-cup, so when it was my turn to
take a bite of HIS, instead of just taking a bite of the stuff on top, I turned the
cup upside down and drank as much of the 'syrup' as I could. Like most
arguments between Rocky and me, it soon came to blows. We were
separated, our ears were twisted viciously and we were hauled before the
"Seat of Judgment" ... Grandma's throne.
Grandma eyed us with extreme disdain once we were before her seat. She
started to say, "Go get me a switch", (which was the usual thing ... where you
had to go pick your own "instrument of torture" and deliver it to her ... all submissive
and contrite) ... but she hesitated. We didn't know if that bode for good or ill. But
instead of sending us 'switch-hunting', she had thought of a better punishment for
us. "These young heathens could use some training in proper behavior", she
said. It was Sunday and Grandma was going to be attending her church, the
First Pentecostal Church, that evening. "You two will be going to Church with
me tonight".
Rocky and I both sighed in relief, thinking we had miraculously
escaped a legendary beating (thinking back on it now though, I would have
been better off if she'd just 'skinned' me and turned me loose).
The services that evening started-off well enough. The congregation sang a
hymn or two to begin ... the Preacher said a prayer ... another hymn or two.
Then the 'Main Event' started ... the sermon was long and inspired, full of
references to 'Hell-Fire' and 'damnable sinners'. About mid-way through is
when the 'scary stuff' started ... members of the congregation would stand up
and start "amen-ing", and "that's right, Brother-ing" and a few even started
speaking in tongues. Over the hullabaloo, the Preacher called for any who
wished to privately confess their sins to the Preacher to come forward and kneel at
the Alter. This is what Grandma had been waiting for, she gave each of us a slap on the back of the head and tilted her head towards the Altar. It was obvious what
we were being asked to do ... two innocent, young lambs were being sent to
the Altar for slaughter.
We knelt there, Rocky and me, shaking nearly uncontrollably, while the Preacher went from person to person and knelt down and whispered to them. After he had whispered to them, he would 'lay-on-hands' and say something like, "Loooord ... Free this child from the demon who plagues him" ... and mostly the person so blessed would fall back as if they'd been hit hard by a hammer or something (fortunately, there were some church elders strategical placed to catch anyone who reacted this way).
When it was my turn, he knelt beside me, put his lips next to my ear and said,
"God bless you, son. What brings you to the Altar of the Lord, today". I didn't
think I could talk really, so just started blubbering like an idiot. This went on
for nearly a full minute before the preacher gave up and whispered, "If you
truly repent in your heart and turn away from sin, God will forgive you." then
he laid his hands on me and said simply, "Go and sin no more" and he moved
on.
The poor Preacher was having a hard time wrestling with some of the demons
who had congregated before him that day, though. He went back to the pulpit
leaving us 'penitents' there on our knees. He began a long drawn-out prayer
(I can't remember the full story right now, it was full of a lot of the usual
Hell-Fire and damnation as I recall, and had a lot of references to the "poor"
servant's struggle with the Devil). At one point though, he started holding his
hands up, he called on the full congregation to help him out, to reach-out with
their hands and feel the full Power of the Lord working through them ... so as
to put the Devil once-and-for-all in his place.
The others at the altar began to rise and put up their hands too ... the whole
place was a mad-house of screaming, dancing, speaking-in-tongues
worshipers. I put my hands up too ... (seemed the right thing to do) I swayed
to the music and closed my eyes (what I'd seen the less demonstrative people
doing) the music was playing and I swear to this day that I think I felt
something (Power of the Lord?) with my out-stretched fingers.
I don't know how long I was there ... swaying to the music, eyes tightly
clenched, feeling the 'Power' ... when I suddenly realized that things around
me had grown quiet. I ventured a peek with one-eye-only. The entire
congregation was just standing there ... the singing had ended, the music had
ended ... everybody was just looking at ME ... I was the only one left who still
had their hands up, the only one left who was still swaying.
Today, I think they all thought that I was some kind of especially blessed
Child-of-God to have been sooo taken away by the Lord that he didn't even
realize that the service had ended.
It was a big Fourth of July Bash and all the relative's showed up for a cook-out
in the Park. On the banks of Nolan Creek, Bell County, Texas, Grandma set
up her "throne" in the Belton City Park, and held sway over the crowd in a
regal manner.
Grandma had a terrible reputation among all of us grand-kids. It was rumored
that 'nobody' (and I mean 'Nobody') could 'switch' you with the magical force
of Grandma. She had raised ten children (mostly on-her-own) and she was
held in an esteem approaching awe by us young 'whipper-snappers'.
My cousin, 'Rocky', and me got in an argument over a sno-cone ... I can't
remember now exactly how the argument went ... but it seems that we had
bought different flavors and had promised each other a bite of the other's
sno-cone so we could double-our-pleasure so-to-speak. Well, I knew that the
'good stuff' settled into the bottom of the Dixie-cup, so when it was my turn to
take a bite of HIS, instead of just taking a bite of the stuff on top, I turned the
cup upside down and drank as much of the 'syrup' as I could. Like most
arguments between Rocky and me, it soon came to blows. We were
separated, our ears were twisted viciously and we were hauled before the
"Seat of Judgment" ... Grandma's throne.
Grandma eyed us with extreme disdain once we were before her seat. She
started to say, "Go get me a switch", (which was the usual thing ... where you
had to go pick your own "instrument of torture" and deliver it to her ... all submissive
and contrite) ... but she hesitated. We didn't know if that bode for good or ill. But
instead of sending us 'switch-hunting', she had thought of a better punishment for
us. "These young heathens could use some training in proper behavior", she
said. It was Sunday and Grandma was going to be attending her church, the
First Pentecostal Church, that evening. "You two will be going to Church with
me tonight".
Rocky and I both sighed in relief, thinking we had miraculously
escaped a legendary beating (thinking back on it now though, I would have
been better off if she'd just 'skinned' me and turned me loose).
The services that evening started-off well enough. The congregation sang a
hymn or two to begin ... the Preacher said a prayer ... another hymn or two.
Then the 'Main Event' started ... the sermon was long and inspired, full of
references to 'Hell-Fire' and 'damnable sinners'. About mid-way through is
when the 'scary stuff' started ... members of the congregation would stand up
and start "amen-ing", and "that's right, Brother-ing" and a few even started
speaking in tongues. Over the hullabaloo, the Preacher called for any who
wished to privately confess their sins to the Preacher to come forward and kneel at
the Alter. This is what Grandma had been waiting for, she gave each of us a slap on the back of the head and tilted her head towards the Altar. It was obvious what
we were being asked to do ... two innocent, young lambs were being sent to
the Altar for slaughter.
We knelt there, Rocky and me, shaking nearly uncontrollably, while the Preacher went from person to person and knelt down and whispered to them. After he had whispered to them, he would 'lay-on-hands' and say something like, "Loooord ... Free this child from the demon who plagues him" ... and mostly the person so blessed would fall back as if they'd been hit hard by a hammer or something (fortunately, there were some church elders strategical placed to catch anyone who reacted this way).
When it was my turn, he knelt beside me, put his lips next to my ear and said,
"God bless you, son. What brings you to the Altar of the Lord, today". I didn't
think I could talk really, so just started blubbering like an idiot. This went on
for nearly a full minute before the preacher gave up and whispered, "If you
truly repent in your heart and turn away from sin, God will forgive you." then
he laid his hands on me and said simply, "Go and sin no more" and he moved
on.
The poor Preacher was having a hard time wrestling with some of the demons
who had congregated before him that day, though. He went back to the pulpit
leaving us 'penitents' there on our knees. He began a long drawn-out prayer
(I can't remember the full story right now, it was full of a lot of the usual
Hell-Fire and damnation as I recall, and had a lot of references to the "poor"
servant's struggle with the Devil). At one point though, he started holding his
hands up, he called on the full congregation to help him out, to reach-out with
their hands and feel the full Power of the Lord working through them ... so as
to put the Devil once-and-for-all in his place.
The others at the altar began to rise and put up their hands too ... the whole
place was a mad-house of screaming, dancing, speaking-in-tongues
worshipers. I put my hands up too ... (seemed the right thing to do) I swayed
to the music and closed my eyes (what I'd seen the less demonstrative people
doing) the music was playing and I swear to this day that I think I felt
something (Power of the Lord?) with my out-stretched fingers.
I don't know how long I was there ... swaying to the music, eyes tightly
clenched, feeling the 'Power' ... when I suddenly realized that things around
me had grown quiet. I ventured a peek with one-eye-only. The entire
congregation was just standing there ... the singing had ended, the music had
ended ... everybody was just looking at ME ... I was the only one left who still
had their hands up, the only one left who was still swaying.
Today, I think they all thought that I was some kind of especially blessed
Child-of-God to have been sooo taken away by the Lord that he didn't even
realize that the service had ended.
