Every body has a story and every body has a tail to tell.
I would like to know your story and how you feel about what life has dealt to you in the cards of life. What is your story? So start a blog.
I have been reading some of the blogs that are written. Some are exciting, some sad, some fun, some have wonderful food ideas and some make me wonder, ‘what happened in your life to bring you to this conclusion about life?’
This is my story: I grew up in a family of one mom, one dad, one brother and two sisters. I was the oldest and the one who caught most of the whippings because I was the oldest and in charge of making sure the younger ones did not get into trouble, go into the street to play, or climb on top of the chicken house and try to fly.
Yes, my brother actually did that when he was 8 years old. He had the umbrella, like Mary Poppins, dressed in a white T-shirt and shorts with a towel tied around his neck so he would have a cape like Superman. Boy, did I get a whipping for that one…… All I did was tie the towel for him and hold the ladder while he climbed on top of the chicken house. At 10, I didn’t think anyone would get hurt and nobody would know what we had done. The lady next door saw us and called mom and told on us. We were so mad, until Mom gave me the whipping and held him like he was a new-born baby. That was the day I knew she liked him more than me.
Our baby sister, Joan, was the spoiled one. When the rest of us got a whipping for minor things like swinging from tree vines across the deep ditch out back of the neighbor’s house, she would get a popsicle and hugged for behaving. She was only three and could not hold the vine like the rest of us, was the only reason she didn’t try to swing. And when we built the kudzu house in the neighbor’s yard, she was the tattle tail who told Mom we had a knife as large as a machete cutting the vines. The time we all decided, to cross the street, to build a hut in the woods from all the cardboard from the store behind our friends house and she ran to tell Mom we were leaving her to stand guard in the yard while we crossed the busy street….she got a big cookie.
But poor Jan, the middle sister, she wasn’t as lucky as our brother. She had a terrible temper when she didn’t get her way and she caused herself and me many whacks across the legs with a hickory-stick that could have been avoided. All she would have had to do was keep her mouth shut and not tell the whole story on what we had been up too. But no, she would get mad and detail every thing that we even though about doing. I remember one time that we built a swing using a rope from daddy’s stuff. I climbed the tree, my brother handed me a knife, the rope and told me that he would watch for the adults so we would not get caught. I actually had second thought while I was sitting on the limb in the top of the tree that grew on the side of the bank next to the cement driveway. The limb hung out over the driveway so we decided we could tie the rope to the limb, get on the high side of the bank and hold on, swing around the tree to the other side of the bank. Might not be such a good idea? Then anouther thought hit me, ‘Good idea!’
We were having such fun until the rope, I tied, came loose while sister Jan was swinging. She fell 3 feet to the cement driveway, skint every place not covered by clothing and some places that were.. . . . . . knocked herself out cold and was bleeding profusely. Nobody moved except baby sister who went screaming to Mom that Jan was dead; everyone got a whipping except Jan. She got grounded for a month which didn’t affect her one bit .. she couldn’t hardly walk the entire time.
Me? I didn’t do nothing ever. I was the one who tried to make everyone be good. But because I was the oldest, I didn’t use good judgment most of the time and help them do what ever they asked me to. Sooo, I got almost every whipping for everyone and grew to resent all three of them. Even when I wasn’t doing anything, they blamed me and I got a whipping being the oldest. Yes, being the oldest I should have known better.
Now years later. I look back at all the fun we had and have decided that God was taking care of us all and those whippings were good for me and them. Discipline is always better that getting away with it. Never know what you would turn out to be if you got away with everything you did in life…….
As an adult, I have learned that not every decission is a good one and I should pray about it, ask Father what He thinks about it. He said to me. Your story, My Story. Told together, working together, the story will have a better ending every time…. In His Kingdom, life is abundant and lots of fun. This is my story and I am sticking to it. What is your story???
Have a good day!
101revelation 