<<    >>

Chuckles and Challenges
A journey towards joy

Hello again, and welcome to Chuckles and Challenges. I appreciate you giving me a moment of your time; and to me, it’s a pleasure crafting these Newsletters. Please know that you’re more than just an email address to me; I create each message with you in mind. You are valued and it’s a privilege writing you. I may not always hit the mark with my stories, but if I can even briefly brighten your day I consider it worthwhile.

From the home front

Spring is fast approaching, with the first crocuses pushing through the earth, despite winter’s stubborn grip. Some days, everyone’s in T-shirts, basking in the warm sun but the next day, a biting wind chills you to the bone. On a particularly frigid night, my desperate need for warmth led to a clumsy mishap—I poured boiling water over my wrist as I tried to fill my hot water bottle. With a shake of her head the next day, the doctor’s kind demeanor couldn’t quite mask the disapproval in her eyes, and I knew she thought I was a fool. She was undeniably right. Thankfully, it wasn’t my writing hand and now, all is well again.

And last but not least, our dog got spayed. All went well. Having been treated like royalty, a picture of the Queen of Sheba, it will be a challenge to reacclimate her to the rough-and-tumble existence of a typical dog. Spoiled? Possibly, but who cares. With the kids all grown and gone, it’s a joy to shower our brown hairy friend with affection and attention. You can judge for yourself.

Inspiring quotes on writing? How about this one from Mary Oliver. She wrote:

Instructions for living a life:

• Pay attention.
• Be astonished.
• Tell others about it.

And how about this one about reading from C.S. Lewis:

You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.

Story of the week

Is Anybody Still There

J.K.Stenger

I woke up hungry and ran to the kitchen. Time for breakfast, with ham, bacon and eggs. But oddly enough, nobody was there. The house was in deep silence.

I opened the living room door and found more unnerving silence, punctuated only by Sam’s eerie homemade aeolian harp. My older brother, already ten years old, had built it on the porch during one of his creative outbursts. The howling, creepy sound never sounded more ominous.

“Mama?”

I waited with bated breath. Nothing.

“Daddy?” No response either. Perhaps they were showering. But where was the loud, irritating laugh of Sam and the enthusiastic, customary bark from my fluffy friend, Rover?

Then it hit me.

Gone. They were all gone. Jesus had come and taken them while I… was left behind. That had to be it. The Savior had returned and had forgotten me. Overnight, the End-time had come. Daddy had been talking about it. “Tommy, it says in the Bible that in the End-time, ‘Two men will be in the field: one will be taken and the other left. Two women shall be grinding at the mill; the one shall be taken, and the other left.’” *

Daddy’s words deeply impressed me.

“One taken, the other left. That must be horrible, Daddy?”

Dad looked thoughtful, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “It won’t be horrible for the one who believes. He’s going to heaven. To a big feast.”

“A feast? What kind of feast?”

Daddy’s face lit up. “Remember when uncle Gregory got married?”

“Yeah?”

“Think back on that wonderful table full of your favorite foods and drinks. We didn’t even have breakfast that day.”

“Yes, Daddy. You said we had brunch.”

“Right. Brunch! And there will be a heavenly brunch for those who love God.”

“And … the other fellow, Daddy? Where does he go?”

“Nowhere. He stays behind. No brunch for him, and believe me, you don’t want to miss God’s heavenly brunch.”

But I was missing it. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum and tears stung my face as I tried to process this horrible revelation in my young mind. I was missing the heavenly brunch and was left behind. Although …. maybe our neighbor, Miss Blumenthal, would still be here, too.

After all, she did not love God. She had laughed when I told her I prayed for her every night. “Religious rigmarole, Tommy,” she had said. “God isn’t even there, so how could he listen to you?”

I grabbed my coat and ran over to her house.

As I approached, an icy dread washed over me, intensifying my fears. An ominous silence, heavy and thick like a suffocating blanket, hung over her house too.

I knocked with a trembling fist. Despite three attempts, nobody opened the door. She, too, was gone.

Hot, salty tears streamed down my face as a wave of utter despair washed over me. I sank down on her cold, stone doorsteps, the sound of an approaching car barely audible over the wind.

A car?

I ran to the road, where I saw a familiar sight. Our lovely green Ford Pinto.

Oh joy. Oh, glorious joy. Dad drove, Mom was beside him, and Miss Blumenthal sat in the back. At the same time, Sam appeared around the corner, Rover straining at his leash with joyous barks. A wave of relief, as a warm tropical bath, washed over me, drowning my fears into the ocean depth. Jesus had not returned.

“Morning, Tommy,” Daddy said as he climbed out of the Pinto and approached, a jovial smile on his face. “Our neighbor needed hospital treatment. Emergency. You slept so soundly, we couldn’t bear to wake you. Sam looked after you, yes?”

I could not say much while I wiped away the last tears from my eyes and mumbled, “I- I am hungry.”

“Hungry?” Daddy asked with a smile. “You didn’t eat? Then let’s have brunch. At that moment, Miss Blumenthal walked up and, surprisingly, took me in her sweaty arms.

“Thank you, Tommy,” she said in a broken voice.

“For what, Miss Blumenthal?”

“I know you prayed for me, and I never needed it as much as today. I had such a scare. Please, never stop praying for me.”

The comforting tone of her voice took away the last vestiges of my bewilderment and my heart soared. I was not left behind, and maybe, just maybe, Miss Blumenthal would enjoy the heavenly brunch too upon the return of Jesus.

* Matthew 24:40

***

That’s it for this time, but I will not close without sending you all the best for the coming weeks. Thank you for reading my Newsletter and if you have any questions you can reach out to me by responding to this letter.

Warm greetings and many blessings for you

JK.