1985 was the year I thought I was going to die. As you can tell, I didn't. I can't remember exactly what I did so wrong. All I can remember is fearing for my life. I saw dad coming towards me with his thick, brown, leather belt. He tells me to turn around and bend over. Now this the point when many kids would scream or cry. Not me.
Just as soon as I bent over, I turned around and grabbed the belt out of his hand and hit him with it. Realizing what I did, I panic and run. Luckily, I had neighbors that loved me. Mr. and Mrs. T were their names. They were old. They gave me Coke in a bottle everytime I went over there. Yep. That is where I ran to.
Mrs. T, knowing I did something wrong, invites me inside and offers me a Coke. I gladly take it, thinking I won this battle. I now know what my father was doing...He knew where I ran to and that more than likely I was enjoying my Coke. Being the man that he is, he waited.
It was 10 minutes later and I hear the knock of death. He found me. Scared again, I hide in the closet and beg the T's to act like I wasn't there. Hidden in the closet, I can hear their conversation. Dad asked if I was there. They tell him no. I hear footsteps coming towards me. He opens the closet door and I burst into tears.
I find it crazy that I have no idea what I did wrong. All I know is I messed up. I had to suffer the consequences. That is life. We get to make decisions. We get to pick which road we go down. We get to choose right from wrong.
Try to make wise decisions. Try to listen to what He tells you. Try. It is hard. But do it.
Happy Wednesday!
Yep. 5K is creeping up on me. August 7 is almost here. Gotta keep running!
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