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dafremen
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He looks up to the heavens; skies so blue and perfect that his heart can only be thankful. "Thank you, Jesus." He turns back to the picturesque family scene unfolding behind him and again gives thanks. Blankets laid across the grass, his wife is setting out their picnic feast on a card table, as his 4 year old tries to help. He smiles.
Then something hits the crown of his head, and begins trickling down the back toward his neck. As he reaches behind him, a voice suddenly booms in his head and his heart:
"For your faithfulness.."
Small, cherry red splashes begin to appear across his arms, the area quickly swarming with them as the table, his family and everything else, are quickly covered in streaks and dots.
He looks at his hand, then to his arm..and shoulder. The red stuff seems familiar. He smells his finger tip (now covered in it.) Where had he smelled that before?
His son cries out, as his beleaguered wife drags the child under the table for cover. She tries to hold his wriggly frame in check, but he's as intent on escaping for the promise of messy fun, as mom is on stopping him. Especially now that the sticky stuff is dropping in buckets from the quickly crimson sky.
Jason looks up again. A fat droplet hits his lip, splashing into his mouth. He spits hard, but the taste is there: Unmistakably the flavor of blood..and something else. Was it wine? Was this? Could it be? He looks up at the sky and lets the blood wash over him. Arms outstretched. Mouth agape. Soon covered from head to toe, he laughs. "It is! It has to be!"
His wife isn't so happy about the situation.
"Jason! Jason help us! I think it's blood! Oh MY GOD Jason, it's blood! We've got to get out of here! Nathan, stop! Mommy's trying to talk to daddy! Jason!! What's going on?!" The ruby curtain pouring over the sides of the table half-obscures her face, as she begins sobbing uncontrollably.
"Can't you see, sweetie?" he says in his most comforting tone, "It's a gift from heaven! It's the blood of Christ come to bless us!"
Darla remains unconvinced. "Jason, please! If you don't get us out of here right now, we'll make it to the van without you!"
A kicking-and-screaming Nathan firmly tucked under one arm, she grabs the top of the table with one hand while her head lifts it in the center. As she stands,(four-legged card table umbrella in hand), the bucket of blood-drenched, picnic chicken spills over onto the ground. Jason watches as the drumsticks do handsprings across the slippery grass like sriracha-soaked acrobats.
She loses her balance and Nathan slips from her arm. Then, before she can reach him, he runs to his dad, who stands arms down, looking euphoric. Darla stares at the two of them, as the downpour begins to subside. In less than a minute, the entire thing is over and they stand, stone-still under a (once again) cloudless blue sky, surrounded by a drenched, vermilion landscape extending for yards around them.
"Hallelujah, baby! Can't you see? It's the work of Jesus. It's a miracle!" Jason gestures around him at the butcherous scene. "Isn't it beautiful?"
"It's horrific, Jason! Oh my dear Lord, come here Nate!"
Nathan is stomping his little feet through every puddle he can find. "It's Jesus Mommy! It's Jesus! It's a meerkle, Daddy! Yaaaay!" Then he leaps into the air, landing on both feet with a splash.
"Yes! It's a miracle, Nate!" Jason picks his slippery son up to swing him around, but thinks better of it, as the boy begins to slide out of his grip. "It's an amazing miracle straight from heaven!"
"Heaven!!" Nate grins, throwing his arms wide as dad sets him down. "Yaaaay!"
"Nathan, it's time to go now, sweetie."
Darla still isn't having any of it. All three of them are covered in blood and they still had picnic stuff to pack(while trying not to make a mess of the minivan.)
Her husband meanwhile, seems unphased. "Ok, let's go, Nate. C'mon!" He grabs a chair and begins to fold it. "Seriously though..that was a bonafide miracle, Darla. Isn't it wonderful?" A mostly empty chicken bucket hits him in the shoulder.
They made a mess of the minivan.
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dafremen
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He looks up to the heavens; skies so blue and perfect that his heart can only be thankful. "Thank you, Jesus." He turns back to the picturesque family scene unfolding behind him and again gives thanks. Blankets laid across the grass, his wife is setting out their picnic feast, as his 4 year old tries to help. He smiles.
Then something hits the crown of his head, and begins trickling down the back toward his neck. As he reaches behind him, a voice suddenly booms in his head and his heart:
"For your faithfulness.."
Small, cherry red splashes begin to appear across his arms, the area quickly swarming with them, as the table, his family and everything else, are quickly covered in red streaks and dots.
He looks at his hand, then to his arm..and shoulder. The red stuff seems familiar. He smells his finger tip (now covered in it.) Where had he smelled that before?
His son cries out, as his beleaguered wife drags the child under their card table for cover. She tries to hold his wriggly frame in check, but he is as intent on escaping for the promise of messy fun, as mom is on stopping him. Especially now that the red stuff is dropping in buckets from the quickly crimson sky.
A fat droplet hits his lip, splashing into his mouth. He spits hard, but the taste is there. Unmistakably the flavor of blood..and something else. Was it wine? Was this? Could it be? He looks up at the sky and lets the blood wash over him. Arms outstretched. Mouth agape. Soon covered from head to toe, he laughs. "It is! It has to be!"
His wife isn't so happy about the situation.
"Jason! Jason help us! I think it's blood! Oh MY GOD Jason, it's blood! We've got to get out of here! Nathan, stop! Mommy's trying to talk to daddy! Jason!! What's going on?!" The ruby curtain pouring over the sides of the table half-obscures her face, as she begins sobbing uncontrollably.
"Can't you see, sweetie?" he says in his most comforting tone, "It's a gift from heaven! It's the blood of Christ come to bless us!"
Darla remains unconvinced. "Jason, please! If you don't get us out of here right now, we'll make it to the van without you!"
A kicking-and-screaming Nathan firmly tucked under one arm, she grabs the top of the table with one hand while her head lifts it in the center. As she stands,(four-legged card table umbrella in hand), the bucket of blood-drenched, picnic chicken spills over onto the ground. Jason watches as the drumsticks do handsprings across the slippery grass like sriracha-soaked acrobats.
She loses her balance and Nathan slips from her arm. Then, before she can reach him, he runs to his dad, who stands arms down, looking euphoric. Darla stares at the two of them, as the downpour begins to subside. In less than a minute, the entire thing is over and they stand, stone-still under a (once again) cloudless blue sky, surrounded by a drenched landscape extending for yards around them.
"Hallelujah, baby! Can't you see? It's a miracle!" Jason gestures around him at the butcherous landscape. "Isn't it beautiful?"
"It's horrific, Jason! Oh my dear Lord, come here Nate!"
Nathan is stomping his little feet through every puddle he can find. "It's Jesus Mommy! It's Jesus! It's a meerkle, Daddy! Yaaaay!" Then he leaps into the air, landing on both feet with a splash.
"Yes! It's a miracle, Nate!" Jason picks his slippery son up to swing him around, but thinks better of it, as the boy begins to slide out of his grip. "It's an amazing miracle straight from heaven!"
"Heaven!!" Nate grins, throwing his arms wide as dad sets him down. "Yaaaay!"
"Nathan, it's time to go now, sweetie."
Darla still isn't having any of it. All three of them are covered in blood and they still had picnic stuff to pack(while trying not to make a mess of the minivan.)
Her husband meanwhile, seems unphased. "Ok, let's go, Nate. C'mon!" He grabs a chair and begins to fold it. "Seriously though..that was a bonafide miracle, Darla. Isn't it wonderful?" A half empty chicken bucket hits him in the shoulder.
They made a mess of the minivan.
--
"Do you know why I pulled you over today, sir?"
Jason finished rolling his window down. "Was I speeding, officer? Because I was trying to watch that, but if we're going too fast, I can slow it down."
"Uhm, no. I mean, yes but mostly I stopped you because you're covered in blood and there are bloody hand prints all over your van. Mind explaining what's going on?"
Darla sighed. "Yea, sweetie. Go ahead and explain it to the officer."
Jason hadn't prepared for this. His entire mission had been to get home. But he'd also just witnessed a bonafide, localized miracle, staged for his family's benefit. And so it was with great faith in what would come out of his main face hole, that he began to speak.
"Are you a religious man by any chance, officer?"
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