Rewritten and Rebuilt

   My dog loves to chase squirrels. She will run from window to window in our house looking to see if any of them dare to set foot in the backyard. Whenever one does, she races to the back door barking to go out. And then off they go, running and chasing until the squirrel jumps up the tree. It’s a pretty fun little game to watch and quite comical to see Molly (the dog) circling our tree waiting in vain for a squirrel that just springs from one tree to the other, 50 feet overhead. It was a great game to watch until the other day when Molly caught a squirrel. Either the poor thing was a little slow on the go or just young; whatever it was, he failed to jump up the tree and instead just kept running around it in circles. Silly Molly was so shocked when she grabbed it that she didn’t know what to do! They tussled for a few seconds then the race began again. This happened three times before the squirrel finally limped up the tree. Neither Molly or the squirrel were really hurt, bu...

   Sunday, 8 July, 2018, a day and a half after “proving” my toughness against church found me getting ready for Sunday morning service. Even as I dressed, my mind was screaming at me, “What are you doing?! You beat God on Friday, why are you going back?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” I had no answer, but two nights of no sleep with portions of worship music playing throughout my head had pushed me to the point of trying church once more. I’m no stranger to insomnia or night terrors, but I had no defense against hearing music that made me want to cry and lay my heart open. I was a little concerned I might be going crazy again.    To be fair, I’ve been crazy before, like legitimately nuts; but this was worse because I knew it wasn’t imaginary, it was totally real. I remembered enough about God from my upbringing and I knew He was moving. I hoped that by going again, maybe a little more respectfully but still in defiance, He would be convinced of the futility of...

“Heather, I’m sorry, I forgot both dad and I are prayer people this Friday so we have to go to service. But you can feel free to go hang with a friend or even hang out here till church is over.” My mom’s words were casual and it was evident she expected me to just say alright. We had finally made a pact on church stuff; my family kept that stuff light and I never asked about it. It was an uneasy truce that had taken years to create and neither side wanted to accidentally break it. My reply shocked everyone, me most of all! “Nobody is available to hang out on Friday, maybe I’ll just go with you guys.” Even as the words slipped out, my brain was spinning out of control. What was I doing?! I didn’t do church, and I especially didn’t do church people! Where had that yes come from?    The best I can figure was that I had gone to a church service in another town the week prior for a reunion. I figured if nothing bad happened in that church with people who I knew then a bunch of wei...