BEEN THERE DONE THAT

            Where else but the Autumnville Country Store front porch could sitting be considered sport.  But there the tres amigos, Fred, Ed and Ted, competed in rocking chairs, just a tad more antique than they were.

            "Good morning rocking chair jockeys," greeted Mrs. Bode, as she ascended porch steps, "I see you all are wearing the team uniform and protective head gear."

            "Are you poking fun at our overalls and caps?" Ed complained.

            Mrs Bode halted halfway through store screen door and left jabbed his shoulder. "Just yours Ed," she laughed.

            "Ouch!" Ed rubbed his shoulder.

            "Beat up by a woman!" Fred ribbed.

            "Yep," nodded Ted.

            "Shut up!" Ed fended them off, "At least she's purdy, and she touched me.  That's more action than either one of you two geezers have had in the past 40 years."

            "Sadly true," Fred reflected.

            "Yep," Ted agreed.

            Fred stroked beard, spit, said, "Have you ever crossed the line, just to get to the other side?"

            "Been there, done that," Ed mused.

            "Yep," chimed Ted.

            Fred contemplated, "Have you ever had a date with destiny," he spit over porch plank edge, "and got stood up?"

            "Been there, done that," Ed said, added, "In fact her name 'was' Destiny, back in '43."

            "Yep," Ted was slipping off into that special place of diminished capacity, called The Ted Zone.

            Fred thought a while, then asked, "Have you ever accepted Christ Jesus as Savior?"

            "Nope!" Ed croaked, tilted forward, fell face down on porch plank. The only chair still rocking was the one Ed fell out of.

            "Is he planking?" Ted asked.

            "Walked the eternal plank," Fred observed. He swallowed hard, "Why didn't I witness to him before now?"

            Ted cried out, "This life is but a mist for a little while..."                    
                                         
                                        James 4:14; Romans 3:23, 6:23, 5:8, 10:9 & 13

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HALFWAY TO HATHAWAY

            Serpentine smirk glowered in the dim light of dashboard GPS.  "Spur 777 dead ends in the town of Halfway, Texas.  If that is not poetic injustice for all those logic challenged Christians, what is?  This is going to be good," spat out the up to no good Saul Bellow of the Texas Restless Reporter.  Seems Saul never ceased pursuit of atheistic un-value.

            For Saul that winding road to Halfway was an unsteady climb over hill after hill; till one hill loomed steeper than them all.  Saul on gas pedal the pressure applied, but his truck began to buck, coughed, choked, then died, before backwards it began to slide. Hard on the brake pedal Saul gave it all, but truck downhill continued back pedal fall.  His leg muscles for what seemed eternity burned raw.  His heart pounded.  His brain ached, took a minute or two to register truck no longer moved.  "Wheeh, still alive?" At steep hill bottom Saul chewed, "I got a job to do!"

            To the less taller hill behind, the truck u-turned, climbed to its top, turned round and stopped.  "Get 'er done!" Saul screamed, crammed gas pedal to metal.  Tires burned rubber.  Saul's heart burned hotter, "I got a story to twist!"

            Down hill Saul sped, then up higher hill he fled, till stopped, till perched on top.  From over his shoulder the morning sun rose, shined on west, cast twilight day down upon the town of Halfway, nestled in the valley of the Horse Shoe Mountains.  Saul stepped out of truck. Raised camera, even said, "So beautiful, it almost makes me want to believe."  He filmed a while, before returned sad smile, "But I'll get over it."

            The plan was nothing new, followed old format, tried and semi-true.  Thru town pass thru.  Film here, film there, fire in an oral observation or two.  But Saul interviewed none, figured to do it later; for something compelled him toward the far end of Halfway.  "Why not," Saul shrugged, "I mean, like after all, how far down can far end be in this halfway town?"

            Saul braked at stop sign.  Spur 777 ended at the tee with Hathaway Street.  On the far side of Hathaway a big green sign beckoned. Welcome to Horse Shoe Mountain Trail.  Enter at own risk.  Continue on foot.   So he did, camera in hand.  "Photo-op heaven!" Saul slipped, un-corrected himself, "That is, if there really were a heaven."

            Up he went.  The climb rapidly got steeper. The trail got narrower. "Real narrow," Saul muttered, "Who in their right mind would put a public trail not more than three feet wide up the side of a mountain?" He rounded the corner.  Heard coiled diamond back rattler.  Saul looked down, squeaked, "That snake's head is bigger than my foot!"  Back glued to mountain, eyes squinched tight, he called out, "Help me Jesus!"  With venom dripping fangs that ancient serpent sprang, sprang over trail edge to far, far below...

            Saul's eyes opened.  Saw all the way to Hathaway Street and a cross topped building there...

            Back in the town of Halfway, on the street of Hathaway, a shaken Saul walked thru the Door of the Church.  "Hello little sheep. I've been told to expect you, Saul," greeted the Pastor from altar steps, "Have you ever considered a change of name?"

                                 ...Is Halfway to Hathaway closer than thought...

                                              ...Call out to the only way...

                                                          ...JESUS...

            As entertaining as this little story may be, it is no where near as awesome as the true story of Saul to Paul in the Bible...  Please read Acts 9:1-20 & 13:9. The sheep and the Door & the Way are explained in John 10:1-30; 14:6; 3:16; and Romans 10:13.

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