Tag Archives: Christ

Riv and Ella~~

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MP900448532Flash Fiction…

I’m surprised the sun is shining this morning. I promised him I would wait. I promised I would be outside this fenced in prison. I would physically be here when he got out, and I did wait, but my heart died long ago. It’s been three years since he’s been behind bars and away, and if I were being honest it has been peaceful. Peace is something I never knew while he was out.

I’ve got a job now at the farmer’s market in town. I don’t sell food there, I just schlep from vendor to vendor helping out where I can. Nothing the average person would brag about however, it is huge for me. I am thankful for any job I can get especially since my reputation in this town is as tarnished as garage-sale silverware.

I stopped the heroin after Riv went to prison but not by choice. I didn’t want to stop but I didn’t have a choice. I was placed in a detox center then to a long-term facility to get clean. I think about it every day though, the high. It is a memory, a want, which every cell of my body remembers. The dreams have stopped. The dreams where I was shooting up with it and feeling the rush. Even though it made me deadly sick, my hair started to fall out, and the mind tunnels, the dark hollow tunnels that I don’t want to think about now… My teeth hadn’t started to deteriorate yet, but that was just a matter of time. I would have sex with strangers to get it, I would rob my family and strangers to get it, I would vomit uncontrollably if I went to long without it, and I would have shaking withdrawals so badly I could hear my teeth chatter. Yes, it was the devil and still I would have done all I could do to get it in my veins. At least I used to…

Riv walked out of a large heavy door and I could hear it clank and lock behind him. He looked healthy and strong. I haven’t seen him healthy since we were younger. Rubbing my face I take a deep breath as he walked towards my brother’s car. Why did I agree to this? Why did I agree to pick him up? Why did I feel obligated to answer his letter back? Why? I could feel my heart-rate increase. I hated that he had this kind of power on me. Then again, it was my fault he was here…

I was free from his control. I was free and now I know it will be a daily fight with him. The mood swings, the yelling, the looks of detest. My stomach is in knots and yet, I sit here. I sit here.

“Ella, I didn’t think you would be here?” Riv mumbled as he reached through the door and unlocked it, and quickly pulled it open.

I say nothing.

“Thank you,” He gulped. He was just as nervous as I was at this encounter. He reached over and gently placed his large hand on the back of my neck. “It is going to be different this time. This time we are going to make it work. I am going to stay clean and you and me are going to have a good life. You have been clean, Ella? Right?”

I nodded yes, still yet to speak. I bit my top lip as tears filled my burning eyes. Not tears of joy, but tears of pain. He is lying. I have heard the exact same promise before. My heart has no hope on his recovery, I’m still not sure about mine, and I have no hope in him treating me with respect.

Why did I pick him up? Misery loves company, I guess.

 

Thank you for reading!!  Riv and Ella is a Flash Fiction Story I wrote in 2014 and since then I have actually plotted and outlined the entire story to the ending scene so it has grown.  Just not sure when I will get to it!  I have been looking over all the projects I have going on and thought I would share this one before I publish my new Sci-FY Novel.  This is a CopyWrite of Neasha Hill and the plot is subject to change!  Hope you enjoy it and please leave a comment or edit if you see one! 😀

 

~~Neasha Hill

 

 

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Parents, you did not give birth to Bank Robbers… I don’t think…

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July 2012 Chicago 206

I wrote the following post in October of 2006 when my children were much younger. If I were able to tell my ‘younger mom self’ anything it would be to Chill Out. The bedtimes become easier, stop the stressing, if they aren’t in bed by 9 pm they will not grow up to become bank robbers because you couldn’t keep a solid bedtime schedule. They will not fall in with the wrong crowd if you can’t wrangle them in bed on time. My boys are teenagers now and all my worries are for not. So– to every mom and dad out there that feels overwhelmed by the bedtime ritual- I have felt your pain— but alas– chill out. The above photo was taken of our boys last summer in Chicago ~~~~comedians- yes, bank robbers- no~~~~

Bedtime…. 10/17/06
Why is putting children to bed so trying on parents? I remember when I only had one child and bedtime was relatively peaceful. With another child added the more hectic bedtime rituals have become. They make a spitting game out of brushing their teeth and I have lost count of all the ‘illnesses’ my oldest son comes down with once he is in bed. He could run a marathon, play board games, ride his bike till the cows come home but once he settles down and is all covered up that is when he decides he has something in his eye, a sore throat, or remembers he hasn’t had a bowel movement in two days and he thinks something is wrong. Then in the morning when I ask how he feels it is always a blank, “Fine, why?” *sigh*
I have read countless books and articles on this subject, listened to wise older relatives but I am still finding bedtime stressful. The experts say calm down your bedtime ritual by turning off the TV an hour before bedtime. Have them drink a glass of warm milk. Don’t give them anything to eat or drink before bed, which negates giving them warm milk before bedtime.?. Give them a soothing bath. Read a book. Say prayers. Turn on their night light. Check their closet for monsters. Make sure they use the restroom. See that they have their favorite blanket. Convince your children that no one cut the moon in half it is supposed to look that way. Come On People… In the perfect world you may be able to do all these every night, but we do not live in a perfect world.
My question I guess is: when are children expected to go to bed with minimal interference? I know they are only little once and I respect that argument but between cooking, putting up leftovers, dishes, cleaning, sweeping, laundry, checking homework, bills, husbands, dogs, making lunches for the next day and so on. Is it too much to ask for a few nights a week that end in a solitary, “Mom and Dad, I am going to bed now. Goodnight and I love you.” Does this make me a bad Mom? I will admit that I have said to my children on more than one occasion ‘Just go to bed. Not one more word’. They are old enough to brush their teeth by themselves, put their pajamas on and make their bed all by themselves they then should be expected to go to bed at least a few times a week without me pulling my hair out?
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Then again I don’t want to complain too much because I know in a few years when they’re teenagers my focus will be ”why aren’t they home in bed yet?” I have talked to countless other families and I know I am not alone in these reactions nor is this the first generation to confront the strife of the terrible catastrophe of bedtime. My grandmother had 7 kids and she still has all of her hair! Now not every night follows this pattern but more times than not this is how it plays out. Please, don’t get the wrong impression I love being a mom, it has many rewards and I truly believe they are a gift from God and I wouldn’t trade motherhood for all the money in the world. But when 9 pm comes and goes and I am trying to convince my oldest son I don’t see anything in his eye, or convincing him his filling in his tooth has not fallen out, or sooth any fears from my youngest he is not hearing noises under his bed while trying to keep him in it, I may get a little testy. I am sure my frustrations are justified. I fear the only solution is age. The older they get the calmer bedtime becomes; at least this is what I am holding on to.

And yes it does get easier- I PROMISE!!!

Grief is the sneaky black sheep of the emotion family

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It has been a little over a year since my father passed away. I miss him every day, the hard grief that you feel for months where you want to roll up in a ball and hide from the world and cry, passed during the first few months. At least I always think it has passed. It pops back up every now and then, however, I can move past the tears and sadness. Today I had a moment that turned into ten minutes, then twenty, then a half an hour of tears. It was brought on a beautiful song that was playing on the radio and me driving in a torrential down pour at the same time. Probably not the safest place to lose control over your emotions! The song that I had choose to be played at my dad’s funeral, “If I could only Imagine” by the group Mercy Me and also one of my favorite songs. I thought about the song and the meaning behind it and how someday all this pain will not matter. All this grief that sneaks up on me, all the pain others cause, all the hate in the world will be gone and One day I will be standing before Jesus- and then and only then will all pain and tears be gone. I am sure the black sheep of emotions, i.e. Grief will wiggle its way back because I do miss a part of my life that is no longer there. I will however survive and move on and I will rest in the assurance that my Hope is in Christ and for that I will be grateful. I posted the lyrics to the song and the video so I hope you enjoy it and I hope you don’t start a blubbering— well yes, I really do secretly hope you get emotional!

This is a picture of my father and my boys when my kiddos were younger and didn’t mind the camera!
dad and boys

“I Can Only Imagine” By: Mercy Me

I can only imagine
What it will be like
When I walk
By your side

I can only imagine
What my eyes will see
When your face
Is before me
I can only imagine

Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus or in awe of you be still
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine

I can only imagine
When that day comes
And I find myself
Standing in the Son

I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever
Forever worship You
I can only imagine

I can only imagine

I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever, forever worship you

I’m Not Growing Old

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MP900309163
They say that I am growing old.
I’ve heard them tell it times untold,
In language plain and bold–
But I’m NOT growing old.
This frail old shell in which I dwell
Is growing old, I know full well–
But I am not the shell.
What if my hair is turning grey?
Grey hairs are honorable, they say.
What if my eyesight’s growing dim?
I still can see to follow Him
Who sacrificed His life for me
Upon the Cross of Calvary.
What should I care if Time’s old plow
Has left its furrows on my brow?
Another house not made by hand,
Awaits me in the Glory Land.
What though I falter in my walk?
I still can tread the Narrow Way,
I still can watch and praise and pray.
My hearing may not be so keen
As in the past it may have been,
Still, I can hear my Saviour say
In whispers soft, “This is the way.”
The outward man–do what I can
To lengthen out his life’s short span–
Shall perish, and return to dust,
As everything in nature must.
The inward man, the Scriptures say,
Is growing stronger every day.
Then how can I be growing old
When safe within my Saviour’s fold?
Ere long my soul shall fly away,
And leave this tenement of clay.
“This robe of flesh I’ll drop, and rise
To seize the everlasting prize”–
I’ll meet you on the Streets of Gold,
And PROVE that I’m not growing old.
BY –Clyde Brigner

What are you living for?

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Isn’t this the truth! We focus on the few years we are here on earth and not what comes after…

Longing 4 Truth

Great illustration by Francis Chan that makes us think: “What am I living for?”

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