inspiration 36

http://goo.gl/1eLv66

Titus 2:14

Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.

1Peter 2:9

But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvelous light

This will be the last inspiration from The Raiford Chronicles. We will move on to The April Chastain Intrigues and then The Legend of Draconis. Hopefully 36 inspirational excepts will make you want to read The Raiford Chronicles. After I finish the works I have published, I will give hints of upcoming books in my Hillbilly Hijinks series and my Laura Beth Copeland Misadventures series.

God's peculiar people, those who have been redeemed. Redemption is always and underlying theme in my books. I can only pray that the Lord uses the words he put on my heart to touch someone else. 

I recently lost a loved one that I never sat down with and talked face-to-face with about eternity. It was an ugly time that I won't share gory details about except to say because of the strife I was not able to attend the funeral. However, the night the person passed, I woke up and the person stood beside my bed and told me that because of what I had written the person believed. I was NOT dreaming. I know this person bought a copy of every book I've written, and to feel that confidence that my words might actually touch someone is beyond explanation. 

How do a person's words and behavior affect characters in the story?

At the second game, Parker found himself sitting between his father and Derrick McAlpin who was actually cordial to his old rival.

"Good team this year, huh, Reynolds? That Ball kid is awesome."

"Yeah. They are good. Your brother has come on strong."

"Scott's been a good influence on him."

"Where's your dad? Does he ever come to watch Darren?"

"No. That's my job."

"Why?"

"Because I love Darren, and he doesn't."

"That's a shame."

"I'm thankful for it."

His brow knit in confusion, Parker sat back a moment and stared at the man who had once dated the woman Parker married. "Strange response. Speaking of thankful, my baby sister has invited young Mr. Ball to Thanksgiving dinner at my house. I'm surprised he's not at your place since his dad has to work."

Derrick shrugged. "The old man is actually taking Mom on a Caribbean cruise. It'll just be Darren and me. We'll probably sleep all day."

"Join us."

Derrick leaned away from the man he had once exchanged blows with and gave the most puzzled look he could muster. "Why?"

"Why not?" Parker turned so he could look Derrick in the eye. "Are you really so prejudiced that you can't share a meal with a black man or a gay man? Besides, Darren would give his right arm to sit at the same table with my cousin without having to sneak a moment."

"How did you know about that?"

"I'm a cop. I know things."

"Reynolds, Dad can never know. He'd kill Darren."

"You know though. You don't disapprove?"

"Lydia is a sweet girl. Outwardly, I can't approve. As long as Danté McAlpin exists, I can't. Maybe he'll fall overboard and get eaten by sharks."

"That's strong sentiment." Parker's squinted frown changed to wide-eyed shock.

Derrick shrugged. "He taught me to hate. I guess he just never realized I would hate him."

"Well, he'll be gone next week. Join us for Thanksgiving. I won't tell your daddy, but it sounds like you could use a friend."

Derrick gave Parker a dubious look. "Don't you mean I could use a cop?"

"A friend who happens to be a cop, but a friend first. You could kill two birds with one stone."

"Are you serious, Reynolds?"

"Yeah. Let's bury the hatchet. Just don't grab my wife's boobs."

Derrick laughed. "All right. I accept. What should I bring?"                                   

"BYOB. The food is taken care of. We eat around six, but come for football."

Ray jerked Parker's arm and whispered, "Scott Baldwin, center for Georgia."

"What?"

"Ball. Doesn't he remind you of Baldwin? We watched him play. I lost twenty bucks to you because of him. Put hair on the kid. Hell! He looked twelve in the face when he was at Georgia."

"Daddy, you're grasping now. What would that do to this team? That would be serious cheating. Why don't you grill him at Thanksgiving dinner? You can keep an eye on the McAlpin boys, too. I invited them, and Derrick accepted."

"You're kidding." Ray looked around his son as Derrick stood and cheered when Darren made a good play.

"Nope." Parker looked up then back at his father. "Something is tearing his heart out. He's grasping at straws, too."

When Parker first told Sheena he had invited the McAlpins, she almost strangled him. She stomped around the house muttering about their past. Parker took her by the shoulders. "Sweetheart, it's time to forgive the man. What would Jesus do?"

She snarled, "Don't guilt-trip me. Just let me process it, okay?"

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her curly blonde head. "I love you. I am so thankful you chose me."

"I love you, too. Okay. Maybe Derrick will change. I'm willing to give him a place at our table." She pushed back from her husband. "But if he grabs my boobs, the meat cleaver comes out."

Parker rose to make the traditional speech, toast, and prayer. "Wow! Daddy, Uncle Raif, Papaw, Grandpa Walter, how have you done this all these years? It's scary to stand up here in front of all these people. So, I'll start with this: I'm thankful for my examples. I hope I've learned a lot from you. Second, I'm thankful for the perfect weather, so we can dine outside. My house isn't as big as y'all's. Of course, I'm thankful for my family and friends, old and new and soon-to-be." He nodded at a very pregnant Kim. "I'm thankful for redemption. Most of you here know what I mean, but there might be a few who don't."

Parker let his gaze sweep the guests. "When I first came here, I was a scared little boy. Larkin—Momma—shared the message of salvation with me after knowing me less than twenty-four hours. I didn't totally understand, but I just prayed and told God I wanted Him to live in me the way He did in Larkin. He did. He came into my heart and forgave me and redeemed me.

"I'm not perfect. I'm a very sinful person. At that time, I was a thug, a criminal. But I learned that I can never be perfect. That's why Jesus came and lived a perfect sinless life for me. I learned that to be redeemed required the blood of a sacrifice. That's why Jesus offered Himself and shed His blood to cover my transgressions. That's why He descended into Hell to take my punishment. But He rose again and ascended into Heaven and sent the Holy Spirit to guide me. He will one day return to take those who believe back to Heaven with Him. I learned that to be one of those people all I had to do was to trust in His life and work and death and to ask Him to come and live in my spirit. I learned that He would do that for anyone who asked—no matter how evil or vile; no matter what age, race, or gender; no matter how early or late in life. Therefore, I am thankful to be one of them."

He gusted a breath of air. "I've often been criticized for calling Ray 'Daddy' at my age. I'd like to share why I do with newcomers. It's part of the same thing. I'm thankful I found my father. I'd never known a father's love. Yea, I didn't even know for certain Ray was my father when I came here. But because he accepted me and showed me what a daddy does, I can now understand my Heavenly Father's sacrifice. Scripture says we can call God, Himself, Abba, which roughly translated means 'Daddy.' It’s an intimate term, an affectionate term. Daddy showed me that imperfect people can be redeemed."

Parker raised his glass. "Now a toast: To being redeemed."

During the prayer, Derrick found Darren's hand under the table. Darren opened one eye and looked at Derrick who had silent tears on his face. Darren squeezed Derrick's hand. Nothing else needed to be said. That simple touch said, "I am thankful for you."

On his other side, Darren felt Lydia's hand slip into his. Darren's heart was full of thanksgiving, and for the first time, he felt truly loved.

Across the table, Cherie found Scott's hand. Scott's stomach roiled. How can I possibly feel like this for this little girl? He chided himself. Yet, he was thankful she was there...

As guests left, Derrick shook his host's hand. "Thank you. I never understood what was different about you. I think I do now. Thank you." Derrick blinked hard not to cry in front of Parker.

Parker put a hand on Derrick's shoulder. "Real men cry."

Derrick nodded and put his arm around Darren. "Let's go home after I speak to Scott.

"Scott!" Derrick called as Scott started to slip on his helmet.

"Yeah? Please, no meeting tonight."

"No." Derrick got close enough so no one else could hear. "Delete all the pictures of Kyle."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Scott shrugged. "Okay."

The next morning when Kyle LaFontaine opened his front door to hang the Christmas wreath, a small envelope lay on his porch. He picked it up and opened it. A handwritten note inside read:

All the pictures have been deleted. I'm sorry. There will be no more. Forgive me. I was a fool, a now redeemed fool, but a fool who cannot let others know I deleted the pictures. Please, say nothing.

Derrick

Kyle smiled knowingly before he tore the note to shreds.

A few miles away, Patrick Gautier opened his door to start Christmas decorations as well. He found a box. When he opened it, there were a dozen copies of the video of Jenna and a note inside:

This is all of them. I swear. Please forgive me, but don't tell anyone you have these. It will get me killed. Although redeemed, I really do not wish to be a blood sacrifice. Just burn them.

Derrick

Patrick was thankful to have them, and without a word to anyone, he dropped the entire box into the fire that blazed in the fireplace.

Waiting for the last group to leave before she spoke, Larkin looked around. "Is there anyone left who is not considered Caucasian?"  Nobody responded. "All right. If you're female, stand." The girls stood. "You're dismissed to the auditorium with Mrs. Champlain, Mr. Cox, and Coach Peroit."

Once again, Larkin waited for the group to leave. "Now, we're getting to it. If your hair is more than an eighth of an inch long, stand." Most of the boys stood. Larkin nodded. "Go stand at the end of the gym. Coach Dale, Coach Marx, Mrs. Blount, and Mrs. Tremain will stay here with you. Those of you still seated will come to the conference room with Mr. Blaine and me. I hope you call your parents. The rest of the faculty and staff, return to where you're supposed to be. Classes will resume in about half an hour." She yanked the microphone off her chest...

Larkin and Mr. Blaine led thirty-seven boys to the conference room. Larkin said, "There are only twenty chairs in here. I don't need one. Some of you will be standing or sitting on the floor. You decide who gets chairs. You have thirty seconds."

Scott motioned Darren to come and sit by him on the window sill. The other juniors and seniors forced the freshmen and most of the sophomores onto the floor.

"Okay," said Larkin. "There are three or four of you that I'm inclined to send out of here, but I guess that wouldn't be fair. There is one of you that I am tempted to have arrested just because I can. However, I guess that wouldn't be fair either.

"I'm absolutely certain some of you are responsible for this latest incident. I don't want to infringe upon your freedoms of speech or redress. It appears you're not happy that I recognized a black basketball player even though he scored a total of fifty-seven points in the playoffs alone. It must've escaped your keen perception that I also honored two young men present in this room."

She walked around the room as she spoke. "Well, you have the freedom to petition and to speak. If you have something to say in opposition of this government's actions, do so without impunity. Just don't be cowards and hide behind effigies. I'm listening."

Nobody said a word. The boys looked from one to another. Larkin looked around. "All right. Should I take a poll? I'll start here." She stopped her stroll beside Lucas Shotz. "Lucas, do you have a disagreement with what I did?"

The boy looked up at his principal with a scowl. "He shouldn't have been on the court to get the points."

"Then, who should have? Scott broke his ankle. I had allowed him back on the court after his fight, but he was unable to play."

"I don't know. I'm not the coach." Lucas fidgeted on the floor where he had been forced to sit.

"That's right. Coach Duquesne put in the best player he had. We won the championship. Other than the fact that Jamal's skin is darker than yours, what can you fault about him? Consider only his basketball ability."

"Yeah, he's athletic. They all seem to be."

"Really? What about Peewee Dukes? He's slower than I am and more uncoordinated."

"Well, he's an exception."

"I see. Lucas, did you hang the effigies? I'm not going to punish you. I just want answers. Do you really feel that oppressed?"

"Yeah, I hung 'em, and I feel like they always get special treatment."

"Did you work alone?"

"I ain't givin' you nobody else. You can blame me." Lucas folded his arms across his chest.

"Okay." Larkin turned toward the window where Scott and Darren sat. "Scott, did you have anything to do with it?"

"No, ma'am."

"How do you feel about it?"

"Well, I've been treated pretty good here, but not in Atlanta. So, I know how Lucas feels."

"I understand. Darren, talk."

"I didn't do it, Dr. Reynolds."

"Okay. Do you have the same feelings?"

"Sometimes."

Larkin leaned with both hands on the end of the conference table. "All right. Scott, you're a senior. Darren, a junior. Lucas, you're a freshman. I need a sophomore. We'll meet every Tuesday to discuss grievances. I don't want any of my students to feel they're any more or less important than another. Y'all decide on a sophomore, and we'll start next Tuesday. Lucas, may I keep my little voodoo dolls?"

"Sure. I didn't make 'em. Didn't think about voodoo. That's kinda theirs, ain't it?"

"I know people of different races who practice alternative religion. Does any particular group have a claim to a religion? Is that not a matter of personal choice? Those are questions for you to ponder, not answer. Tell whoever made them, they should pursue art."

"You really ain't gonna punish me, are you?" Lucas asked in disbelief.

"No, unless you do something else."

"Dr. Reynolds, you're strange."

"Peculiar would be a good word. I'd love to explain to you why sometime."

"I know why," Darren whispered to Scott.

"Me, too. I prayed at Parker's house. Did you?"

"Yeah. So did Derrick."

"That explains what he told me to do. I guess we're peculiar, too."

"Gentlemen," Larkin said, "would you like to share something else with us?"

"No, ma'am," Scott and Darren answered simultaneously.

"Then, I'm making an announcement to report to second period after a fifteen minute break. Y'all get out of here."

Larkin detained Scott and Darren for a moment. "Did you have something you'd like to say in private?"

Darren shook his head. Scott said, "We were discussing peculiarity."

She smiled. "I get your point. Go on. Make a list of grievances you'd like to discuss next week."

Cover by Christopher Chambers.

The already "peculiar" from this passage alone (Parker & Larkin), and then the newly peculiar (Derrick, Darren, & Scott).