A BIT OF TRUTH, A BIT OF FICTION – WEEK 26

Thank you for your willingness to support my dream of transitioning into full time writing. Before I pass from this life, I would like to share some of what I have learned. In each of these weekly posts, subscribers can expect to find the following:

· An excerpt from a novel in the ‘Game of Life’ series

· A short story from a long dead author, whose works should not be lost to time

· Another short story by myself, many intended as plots for short and full length films

· An essay focused more on God’s truths, for those who are interested in a better life

Let us continue what will hopefully be an enjoyable journey together.

THE GAME OF LIFE – BOOK 1- THE POWER OF A PAWN

These stories were initially imagined to be movies that would underscore deep truths about how we define life. In reality, they are too long to be adequately contained in individual films. They would though, still make for a powerful six-year series, using the episodes in each season to cover one novel.

POAP Week 26 - This sequential segment is excerpted from ‘The Power of a Pawn,’ copyright 2011 by Paul F Spite. It is the first book in a series entitled, ‘The Game of Life.’ Look for the next segment of “The Power of a Pawn’ in this same place, next week.

* * *

In a scene of total contrast from what occurred outside, the inside of the courtroom seemed serene. This hearing had not been opened to the press or to the public. The cool air inside felt wonderful against her skin. Unknown men in regal poses watched over her and society from high on the walls. The stamped tin ceiling looked a hundred years old. Between the release of tension, the change in temperature and her inability to sleep the night before, Amanda found it difficult to stay awake. She could not understand the bulk of the discussion anyway. It all sounded very technical. She did come alert at the mention of the word “misrepresentation,” but realized if this was her last hearing, her threat to fire Mr. Franz meant nothing.

A sense of relief swept over her as she heard the final verdict. “This appeal is denied.”

The ordeal had come to an end, except for one final step.

* * *

Somehow, before she could even be escorted out the door, the crowd learned about the denial of the appeal. The street outside the courthouse closed down as the swelling mob spilled into it. Besieged by reporters looking for raw emotion to exhibit to viewers, she shrank back against her guards. Shouts rang out of encouragement and of condemnation. One woman brandished a fist in her face before the police swept her back.

Thwarted in her bid for attention, the lady yelled out, “Now you will get yours.”

Amanda wondered what she did to the woman. Before she could form her question to her accuser, microphones were thrust into her face again. Her reaction to the verdict was demanded. She looked for her attorney to answer, but seemed busy giving an interview on the injustice of it all. In searching for him, she managed to take in the entire panorama of humanity displayed in front of the courthouse. Amanda’s last traces of calm vanished into bitter disdain.

She came alive, her temper snapped and she turned on the press. “You want my reaction to what happened here today? What happened in the courtroom is between me and those I care about. What is happening out here is an absolute disgrace. None of you care one way or another about me or my children. You remind me of a bunch of buzzards. Only you’re all trying to get a piece of me before I’m actually dead. Buzzards are more kind. Now get away from me.”

She shoved her way through the crowd to the prison van, dragging her surprised guards with her.

* * *

Not too surprisingly, her comments were deleted from every news program that ran footage of the scene outside the courthouse. Despite her lack of interest in participating in the spectacle, Mrs. Delaney found herself on center stage anyway.

A thought ran through her mind and made her smile a little. She needed God’s help, but all He sent her so far were lawyers.

Without a miracle from Him, in a little short of two months, she would have the dubious honor of being the first woman executed in the state of North Carolina in decades.

* * *

The rude reporter who interviewed Terrance indeed had a nose for news. A lot of money changed hands daily outside of the North Carolina Prison for Women.

At twenty dollars per night for tent sites, forty dollars per night for RV lots, and six dollars per day for parking, Terrance made a small fortune from the uproar over Amanda. The income far offset the utility costs, the land rental, and the rental of portable toilets and showers. The city denounced him publicly for his greed, but remained careful not to take action to close down his enterprise. While it was in operation, they raked in a minor windfall in sales taxes from his income stream. They also did well collecting taxes from the many food venders to whom he leased a portion of the land.

Two subcultures evolved in “Delaney City.” Its name was bestowed upon it by one news anchor. One group contained a mixture of the curious and the thrill seekers. It entertained them to take a night or two and camp down from the prison. There they picnicked, purchased a wide variety of junk food from vendors and hung out at night around campfires. The discussions around these fires were always lively and heated. Campers were also provided a near constant source of entertainment in the debates usually ongoing on nearby platforms.

The first small stage had originally been set up for use at the request of Americans for Amnesty, the group providing legal representation for Mrs. Delaney’s appeals. Members of the organization used the stage to make speeches about their cause. This usually happened to coincide with the arrival on site of representatives from news organizations. As the frequency of these broadcasts increased, Americans for Amnesty did not have enough speakers to insure a constant presence. They opened their stage up to other groups with similar views. Every Life Matters tended to have especially fiery representatives.

* * *

Not to be outdone, groups in favor of the death penalty requested that Terrance set up a second platform for them. It would be within earshot of the first. Let Justice Prevail and Sacred Justice occupied the new stage most of the time. On occasion, both opposing groups would open up the microphone to crowd members whose views happened to coincide with their own.

For those in favor of the death penalty, Amanda represented a monster, devoid of natural affection and willing to betray the innocent. Her children’s only crime had been their choice of a mother. For those opposed to capital punishment, she exemplified an innocent pawn in a political campaign by the prosecuting attorney and state government. Her only guilt lay in her inability to remember enough of the events of the night to mount an adequate defense against circumstantial evidence. From the standpoint of disinterested bystanders, all these groups just used her as an expendable pawn.

Once both platforms were in place, the entertainment increased more than two-fold. It became common for one speaker from one platform to speak in rebuttal to points made by those who went before on the opposing stage. The crowd loved it, as did the reporters who came more and more often. Everyone at home received choice snippets of the drama each night.

Events escalated out of hand when the group opposing capital punishment adopted what they believed to be a brilliant strategy. They had their speaker take his place on a platform at the same time another speaker expounded on an opposing viewpoint. Instead of waiting until the other speaker finished talking, he interrupted after every line with a rebuttal. The riot started with a shouting match between the two orators. It degenerated into a confrontation between the two groups. From there, it evolved into a physical clash.

Four hospitalizations and twenty arrests later, delegations from each group met and decided on terms. They worked out specifically how they would agree to disagree. Having the National Guard suddenly assigned to keep order on site provided a strong incentive for peaceful coexistence.

* * *

The head of the Raleigh City Council leaned back in his chair in the conference room. He poured himself a cup of coffee he would pay for shortly. It was too close to bedtime, but he needed the lift. He shook his head and took a while to speak. “That was a rough meeting.”

A well-dressed woman to his right snorted. “All those other property owners have a point. The footage airing all over the nation of our little carnival down there is a little embarrassing. I don’t think this is what we want the rest of the country to think about Raleigh.”

A short balding man at the other end of the table spoke up. ”What do we want them thinking? That law here in the big city is arbitrary? That we are just a backwoods ‘good ole boy’ club? He came before us and we granted the exemption. There’s nothing we can do now without breaking our own law. And I guarantee you there would be an instant lawsuit if we did. And Mr. Edwards would win a significant award.”

The city attorney attending the meeting nodded in agreement.

The same woman shot back. “What about the parking?”

The council head chimed in. “The property there is zoned industrial. Parking of automobiles is allowed in that zoning. He covered his bases before he suckered us.”

Before anyone else could say anything, he continued. “Mr. Edwards uses his land for a legal purpose to which we agreed. It is disgusting and tacky, but it is legal. In two months, the woman will be executed. The crowds will go away and this will all be behind us. If we shut him down now, the lawsuit will go on and on. With certainty, it will also include huge damages for lost revenue.”

A moment of silence and then the balding man spoke once more. “Not to totally belabor a point, but I would also like to point out that his enterprise collected $23,000 in sales taxes last month for the city of Raleigh. That makes him the twelfth largest taxable enterprise in the city right now. And times are tough.”

The woman rose, irritated. “Forget I said anything. Far be it from me to suggest shutting down a real money maker. What does civic pride matter, compared to that?”

* * *

SHORT WRITINGS BY LONG DEAD AUTHORS

I have always considered O Henry to be the maestro of the short story form. Here I present one of his masterpieces for your enjoyment.

A SLIGHT MISTAKE – O HENRY

An ordinary-looking man wearing a last season’s negligee shirt stepped into the business office and unrolled a strip of manuscript some three feet long. “I wanted to see you about this little thing I want to publish in the paper. There are fifteen verses besides the other reading matter. The verses are on spring. My handwriting is a trifle illegible and I may have to read it over to you. This is the way it runs:

Spring

The air is full of gentle zephyrs,

Grass is growing green;

Winter now has surely left us.

Spring has come, I ween.

When the sun has set, the vapors

Rise from out the meadows low;

When the stars are lit like tapers

Then the night winds chilly blow.

“Take that stuff up to the editorial department,” said the business manager shortly.

“I have been up there already,” said the ordinary-looking man, “and they sent me down here. This will fill about a column. I want to talk with you about the price. The last verse runs this way:

Then it is that weakening languors

Thicken in our veins the blood

And we must ward off these dangers

Ere we find our names are “Mud.”

“The reading matter that follows is, as you see, typewritten, and easily read. Now, I⁠—”

“D⁠⸺⁠n it,” said the business manager. “Don’t you come in here reading your old spring poems to me. I’ve been bored already today with a lot of ink and paper drummers. Why don’t you go to work instead of fooling away your time on rot like that?”

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” said the other man, rolling up his manuscript. “Is there another paper in the city?”

“Yes, there’s a few. Have you got a family?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why in thunder don’t you get into some decent business, instead of going around writing confounded trash and reading it to busy people? Ain’t you got any manhood about you?”

“Excuse me for troubling you,” said the ordinary-looking man, as he walked toward the door. “I tell you how it is. I cleared over $80,000 last year on these little things I write. I am placing my spring and summer ads for the Sarsaparilla firm of which I am a member. I had decided to place about $1,000 in advertising in this town. I will see the other papers you spoke of. Good morning!”

The business manager has since become so cautious that all the amateur poets in the city now practice reading their verses to him, and he listens without a murmur.

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SHORT WRITINGS BY MYSELF

Here I present short stories, created for your enjoyment and for my own. I have always imagined these as the basis for family-friendly films. Perhaps that will become a reality someday.

MAKING THE GRADE - Copyright 2011, Paul Spite

The pretty young lady was tenser than she’d imagined she would be. Her contact met her at the library, next to the handbooks for drugs. Someone’s idea of a joke? As instructed, she collected before giving the cocaine to the customer. Once finished, she’d pocket a much needed two hundred. It was easy money. She failed to spot three separate webcams filming her.

En route to class, Kip gently chided his friend. They’d be getting mid-term exam results. Maybe his buddy should’ve studied, rather than partying. That wasn’t the way to make the grade and not the way his grandfather would’ve done it. His buddy wheeled on him. Kip wasn’t his grandfather and he was sick of hearing about the old man.

The posted grades were ridiculous. Kip’s buddy, who hadn’t studied, outscored him on a test for which Kip had been exceptionally prepared. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. His worried buddy begged him to drop it. Sometimes people just got lucky.

Having his fiancée agree did nothing to lessen the Kip’s anger. Things like that didn’t just happen. Kip’s roommate Josh, also played for the team and also suggested Kip drop. He was looking like a sore loser. Besides, what difference did it make? He’d received a good grade, enough to keep his GPA high enough to retain scholarships. Josh had just come off academic probation and it was no fun. If Kip could locate an access code online, for a hacked copy of the latest computer game, they’d see if it would take Kip’s mind off his irritation.

Josh’s finances were of concern as well. He was too broke to go in with them for pizza. Kip knew for a fact his roommate had been withdrawing a lot of cash and his emotions were all over the place. Perhaps his roomie was using drugs, maybe coke? Elaine was strangely silent.

Over pizza, Kip decided he’d follow Josh for a few days and make sure he wasn’t taking drugs. He didn’t want his friend kicked off the team. Random testing was pretty common, even at their school. Elaine suggested he mind his own business. If Josh needed help, he’d ask.

But Kip knew, if Josh were hooked, he’d never ask for help. He wasn’t an expert on drug use, but he did know when friends were in trouble, you helped. She told him more sharply, to butt out of Josh’s affairs. And yes, she knew. That’s not how his grandfather would’ve done it.

The new fraternity on campus was Omega Alpha Epsilon. There didn’t seem to be anyone in their house and they never joined in rush week. So why was Josh on their porch? He’d often expressed disdain about every Greek organization. It made no sense to Kip.

The next few minutes generated more questions than answers. Josh didn’t even knock. He just slipped a small envelope through a mail slot and left. Before Kip could safely follow, another student athlete stepped up on the porch and deposited an envelope. Kip settled back to watch. In the hour before his next class, twenty more athletes made deposits. Three were on Kip’s team. Two had recently been released from academic probation, to everyone’s relief.

They might have just been on a picnic, but a gentleman was always one. He held the door for Elaine and properly escorted her, carrying her basket. She laughed at Kip for being so old fashioned. But sometimes, the old ways were best.

At the end of their long and lovely afternoon, Kip held her close, but his mind was far away. She pulled away slightly and patted him on the face.

“Hey Romeo! Stop thinking about that house and notice me. I never met your grandfather, but I’m pretty sure he never ignored a pretty lady.”

Kip was definitely smelling a rat. He’d watched the Omega Alpha Epsilon house a few times. Whoever OAE was, they sure knew a lot of athletes, recently removed from academic probation. None ever entered, just dropped envelopes through the mail slot.

Thoroughly curious, Kip made an appointment with the professor who taught the class where Kip had been outscored. Once inside, he asked how someone who never studied, could’ve done so well on the mid-term. He was unprepared for the sudden anger. Grades given to other students were none of his business and never would be.

He was even more shocked when he Elaine about the meeting. She cried as she begged him to stop interfering with others. He demanded to know what she knew that he didn’t. She just left angry, making it two of them.

Professor Atkinson and Dr. Mineu never allowed anyone to coast through their courses. So Kip approached them with his suspicions. Equally intrigued, they agreed to post failing grades for him. They could “find and correct” their mistakes a few weeks after he wound up on academic probation. He wanted to see what would happen, if it became known he might be kicked off the team.

For the rest of the semester, he ignored the strange OAE house. Perhaps he’d forgotten it existed. He told no one of his plans, not even Elaine. There were already too many secrets.

His scheme quickly bore fruit. He was placed on probation and his scholarship was in jeopardy. Elaine and Josh were shocked, as he’d never had trouble with classes. Kip retreated into a sullen silence. Within two weeks, he was approached by Omega Alpha Epsilon. He was the kind of student they interested in recruiting. Would he come to the house for a meeting?

There, he was introduced to Christopher and a way out of trouble. The OAE had influence with a few instructors. For a small fee, say around ten percent of his scholarship payments, they could make troubles vanish. They’d guarantee, in all but three current and future classes, he’d receive excellent grades. It would free him to study exclusively for those other classes. Good grades in those courses would have to be gained honestly.

He refused. Why give anyone money to get grades he could earn? He’d just had one bad semester. He made Christopher convince him. He wanted to know if they could get grades raised in the two classes he’d failed. Christopher readily admitted they couldn’t, but those two instructors were exceptions. As for the remaining classes, he should consider it an investment.

From a practical standpoint, Kip could even work a part time job, as he would barely need to study, and make more than he paid.

Kip sat thinking. How could they guarantee delivery, once he paid? Christopher looked him over. Kip needed to understand. Once he’d been told how the system worked, they’d make sure he joined, whether he agreed or not. Kip looked at his watch pointedly. He was interested, but not without information.

Christopher began. Suppose years before, certain professors were encouraged to get in compromising situations? Suppose evidence was carefully accumulated over time, especially of misuse of power with students? For raising a grade here or there, they got to keep their positions and freedom. For those who couldn’t be corrupted, family members could. It was only a matter of time until they had dirt on every professor, even Mineu and Atkinson.

Kip was intrigued. How could they have set up a large blackmail ring in just a couple of years?

OAE had begun twenty years earlier, with chapters in every major college. In most of those, they now controlled most professors, directly or through their family members. It was a big business, involving lots of people.

Kip was truly shocked. Why would Christopher have told him? The president of the local OAE chapter just smiled. If Kip paid, he’d never worry about grades again. If he ratted, their tracks were covered. It would be his word against theirs. Hadn’t he listened? They controlled almost every instructor. If he didn’t participate, he’d never graduate from any university.

Kip slowly became angrier. Was Christopher threatening him? His grandfather would never have done things in such a crass manner. The other boy flashed a particularly nasty smile. He wasn’t Kip’s grandfather. Kip agreed. He wasn’t even in the same class as Pops. Kip indicated he’d get back with them and was advised not to wait too long.

In the dark of night, the figure in black didn’t bother with doors. He’d seen the alarm system wired to each opening. He entered the crawl space by removing several foundation blocks. Inside, he easily found the trap door leading up. There were no incriminating files anywhere. The office computer held only games. Nonetheless, he carefully copied the hard drive contents to a thumb drive in his pocket. Upon leaving, Kip set the foundation blocks in place. With luck, his entry would remain undetected.

He broke a date with Elaine the next night, to spend several hours with his professors at a coffee shop in a nearby town. Reviewing retrieved files on a laptop, they found nothing of substance. They believed the blackmail scheme as it explained many mysteries. It was very strange that the computer only held games. They couldn’t even play them. Most required access codes given with purchases.

Later that night, Kip downloaded bootleg access codes for all but two games. He would at least enjoy playing them, since he’d gained nothing else of value in his rather risky undertaking.

The next morning, he received an ultimatum. He could play ball with them and continue to play ball. If he opted out, his college career was over. If he tried to go public, future visits with Elaine would be through glass at the nearest women’s prison. They’d videotaped her dealing cocaine. The first thing surfacing in any investigation, would be that tape. He had until the next morning to decide and they’d need the first payment in a week.

Had she really done it? At first, Elaine denied involvement. When he persisted, she struck back. She wasn’t receiving easy scholarship money. She had to scrap for every dollar for tuition. It had seemed like easy money. But until he paid his own way through school, he could just stop with the whole morality thing.

The next morning, he informed Christopher they’d made a bad mistake, targeting his fiancée. The other young man just laughed. They’d only entrapped Elaine in case Kip made it to the pros. Their organization had expanded operations. It was just insurance if they needed Kip to throw a game at some point. Kip thought to warn them further, but wisely refrained.

The games he couldn’t access bothered Kip. There was no mention of them anywhere on the web. Dr. Mineu noticed most passwords for games he‘d opened were puns, that referred to the names of the games.

Sitting at his computer, Kip looked first at the unopened game labeled “Easy Money.” He tried out various puns. When he typed in the words, “black male”, he was in.

The game was ridiculously easy. Curious as to how many levels it contained, he played for several hours. When he got to level twenty-one, he was confronted by a locked vault. A gold key acquired on the previous level, caused the vault door to open. Inside was a menu unlocking thousands of hidden files.

It was a treasure trove of information on OAE. It contained contact information for operatives at each college, names of past and present “officers,” even names and details of everyone blackmailed in each location. It took Kip two hours to copy it into additional files. He even skipped his classes the following day, working .

The next day, he called the top officers of the OAE, getting their attention simply by his ability to reach them. He explained that the local chapter gave him one day to decide if he desired his and his fiancé’s life destroyed. So they too had one day to arrive for a meeting in the university commons. Then he’d release data and have them all incarcerated.

A grim group of businessmen met Kip the next day. Christopher sat before the group. Kip had the distinct impression both of them were on trial. He opened the meeting by suggesting they hear him out before having their man on the roof across the street do anything stupid. One grim fellow placed a muted call on his phone. Then they settled back to listen.

The operation of OAE had both intrigued and inspired Kip. He’d decoded their data, but had to apologize. While making copies, he inadvertently erased incriminating evidence on his fiancée. From both the local chapter and the national database. They really should better protect their computers. But none of that was the reason behind the meeting.

Kip wanted them to know. He’d encrypted their data and buried it deep in the operating system of every social media site on the Web. It contained a complete description of their scheme, their identities, their victims, everything. His hidden program would, unless commanded otherwise, display that data on every social networking site precisely at 6:00 PM every day. A constantly changing password that only Kip could enter each day, would prevent that. Kip also wasn’t foolish enough to believe he was the only nerd around. Hard copies had also been made. Those were placed with various people to also surface, should he disappear.

Their network was now open and it would always remain accessible to him. If he ever failed to access their data, he’d also fail to input the password that day. The floor was open for questions.

The solitary questioner seemed a bit shocked as he spoke. “What do you want from us?”

Kip smiled, knowing a group of blackmailers would be quick to understand. All he wanted going forward was twenty-five percent of all their income. He would track amounts in their database. At the first sign of tampering with records or hiding income, he’d leave the country and let the chips fall. Payment should arrive each week, as a certified check or stock from a designated company. The form of payment be sent to them weekly. Payments could begin tomorrow.

They could look at it this way. They would continue to get rich. He’d become very wealthy. Best of all, they’d keep their freedom.

As he gathered his things to leave, Christopher spoke bitterly. “Is this the way your grandfather would have done things?”

Kip smiled broadly. “My grandpa’s name was Al Capone.”

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ESSAYS FOCUSED ON GOD’S TRUTHS

For those who are interested in a better life, because no other writer can really compare to God.

WHEN PICKING HEROES – WHY NOT ABRAHAM - Copyright, Paul Spite

It is hard to find heroes these days. If they existed in the past, small men, whose lives suffer by comparison, strive to rewrite history to remove them from our textbooks, Rather than raise themselves to the level of the noble; they besmirch and ridicule those who accomplish great things to bring them down, at least in their minds, to their own pathetic level of significance. In a world that does their best to destroy anything worth emulating, one record of history remains unchanged, protected by God Him self. His Word never changes, and in it are found men and women worthy of patterning our lives after. One of these gives us a good example to follow in regards to faith.

Abraham, the patriarch of Israel, is described as the father of the faithful. He is held up as a role model we are to copy in our faith in God. So what was so outstanding about this man and what can we learn from his life about faith?

God’s call to Abraham and His promises to him are recorded in Genesis 12:1-10. Abraham lived in Ur, a polytheistic nation serving idols. But there was something different about Abraham. It was enough to prompt God to use him for a fresh start after mankind degenerated in a short twelve generations following the flood. There was nothing in Abraham’s circumstances to warrant his selection. Outwardly, Abraham was a product of his times, but God looked at his heart, not his circumstances. He does the same for us. Never mistake that as justification to act as we wish, disobeying God, and claiming that regardless of how we look or act, God knows our hearts. What is in the heart always shows up on the outside in our appearance and behavior.

We have many promises of God to lean on, but Abraham had none. There was no Bible yet, just a voice claiming to be God, upon which to stake the rest of his future. It is usually not wise to put all our eggs in one basket, unless that basket is God. The voice essentially told him, “Pack up, leave everything and everyone behind, start traveling, and eventually, I will tell you where you are to go.” Abraham was promised he would begin a lineage that would culminate in the arrival of the Savior. Years, decades, and millennium passed before some of those promises were fulfilled.

One reason Abraham was chosen by God was his ability to lead his household by example. We now live in a society where anything goes, where people are marrying animals and supposed ministers are performing the ceremonies. It is more important than ever to lead our families in a life for God. Another reason he was chosen was simply because he was willing to be chosen. We do not choose God, contrary to popular teachings of “accepting” Christ. He chooses us, as evidenced by the words of Christ in John 15:16. We sometimes feel we are not good enough to stand in the presence of God or be called His own, but so what? Like Abraham, we must trust God enough to follow Him first and let Him change us into something good enough. We lean on God, acknowledge Him, and let Him direct our paths. That is what Proverbs 3:6 instructs us to do. That is what Abraham did.

Sometimes, we downplay the promises of God in an attempt to preempt and prepare for assumed disappointment. God told Abraham that regardless of the fact he was old, his wife was old, and they were childless, a great multitude would come from Abraham’s seed. Like Abraham, when the promise takes time to come to fruition, we begin looking for reasons to doubt. Was it really God who had been speaking? Did we do something to cause God to withdraw His promises, even though we are told in Romans 11:29 that the gifts of God are without repentance? Like Abraham, we sometimes try to act on our own to bring about a fulfillment of God’s promise. In doing so, we also take away the glory for His provision from God.

God made other promises to Abraham that apply to us as well. He said Abraham would be a blessing to everyone else if he would obey God. He said his name would become great. What a promise. What a fulfillment of that promise comes when by faith, we take on the name of Jesus in baptism. There is no other name as great as that one.

What characteristics of Abraham should we seek to duplicate if we desire to be called his sons? Or even if we just wish to be like him? We know he was obedient and it is a very good idea to obey God. Somewhere we got the idea that ignoring God’s laws is better than having men attach the term “legalist” to us. God warns us not to fear men, but to rather fear the one who can cast our soul into Hell. We are told in 1 Samuel 15:22 that obedience is better even than sacrifice. We know Abraham trusted God, which certainly makes obedience easier. I guess believing God knows what He is talking about when He speaks to us, and trusting Him, is a pretty good definition of faith. Romans 10:17 states this as well. We know this patriarch was courageous because when Lot was captured by an enemy, Abraham led his men in battle to free him. We need to be willing to fight for what we claim we hold dear, especially our families. Abraham was also not selfish about giving to God, but gave tithes willingly to Melchisedec, the priest king. Robbing God of what is due Him is poor preparation for asking God to bless us. We know Abraham was unselfish and preferred his brethren. He gave Lot the first choice of the land when it became necessary for them to separate. Finally, we know this father of the faithful was – faithful. Ultimately, to prove his trust in God, he agreed to sacrifice his son Isaac, the thing dearest to him in this world. Genesis 22:5 indicates his faith that God’s promises would still be fulfilled and God would somehow restore his son back to life.

When everything around us seems to be crumbling, the life of Abraham can be a source of inspiration for us. If God ever made us any promises, like those found in scripture for instance, we can choose to doubt or follow a better example. We can walk in faith and pattern our choices after those of Abraham.

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My hope is that you have enjoyed these offerings enough, you will join me each week on this journey. If you believe what you read has value, please invite a friend to come along. Perhaps even begin a discussion group. Or, if you could find a moment to offer comments or words of encouragement, that would also be appreciated.

For those who prefer the feel of paper, most of the writings that will be referenced in these posts can be found in book form under the name of Paul Spite, under the Bookstore tab at Lulu.com - https://www.lulu.com/search?page=1&sortBy=RELEVANCE&q=%22Paul+Spite%22&pageSize=10&adult_audience_rating=00. They can also be directly ordered from the appropriate links on

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