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They called upon the Lord and He answered.
Psalm 99:6
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Elizabeth writes a weekly devotional that can be delivered to your inbox. To view a sample, click here!
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 Footprints in History |
Sojourner Truth (1797-1883)
It was a surprise when Bell was told to marry Tom. She was a
tall woman-well over six feet-young and strong, while Tom was much
older. Yet,
when the master said his slave should marry and produce children, there
was no
debate. Only obedience.
Soon three children were busy about the slave
cabin, a
fourth had been buried and a fifth was tied to her back while she worked
the
fields.
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My Path |
A Wasted Day
I was grumbling as I drove home down
I-30. Wasted, that's what the last five hours had been Wasted.
When I decided to sell about half
the books I'd collected, the choice felt good. After all, a thousand volumes
are a bit much even for a writer. I was tired of dusting, boxing, moving and
reorganizing the shelves as life moved me from place to place. I'd read most
all the books at least once and they had become part of my mind and character.
Why hold them any longer? Years ago, physical books sitting on a shelf were a
gold mine for quotes and statistics and facts but the Internet changed all
that.
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Footprints Today
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Big Plans, Tiny Hands
by Anna Robinson
"Mum mum mumma!" The sound pierces
the night and for a moment I dread crawling out of bed. Feeding a newborn
through the night is exhausting. I'm so tired my head swims and I really don't
want to get up.
Then I remember: this child needs me - not Daddy, not grandma,
not bubba - me and once more I throw back the cover to follow the same
self-sacrificing pattern set by my mother and grandmother before me, knowing it
may never be appreciated. And, like them, I think of all my big dreams and how
they have changed.
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Footprints in History, continued
New York, was a progressive state and after her marriage to
Tom, slavery was abolished. It would not be instant, but freedom would come in
stages according to each slave's birthday. Adult males would be freed first,
then females and last of all the children. She was not sure of her birthday,
but officials guessed and gave her a freedom-day in July of 1827.
Bell watched closely as one by one others were set free and
longed for her day to come. So, when her master offered a plan that would grant
freedom two years early, she jumped at the chance. If she would double her
labors, working hard and faithfully for one year, he would set her free and
also give her the children. Working until she dropped, Bell counted the days.
But, when the day of freedom finally arrived the master changed
his mind and Bell made up hers. If he would not give freedom, she would take
it. She waited for an opportunity then with Sophie strapped to her back slipped
out into the night, eventually making her way to the home of Quakers living not
far from the plantation.
When Bell's angry master showed up at the door demanding back
his property, the family offered $20 for the privilege of keeping Bell and the
baby until her legal day of freedom and reluctantly he agreed.
During the next two years Bell worked for the family and
they paid her a modest wadge but the day she was legally free, she walked back
down the road to the plantation from whence she had come. Demanding her
children, she offered the money she had earned for their redemption. Unfortunately,
only two little girls were still living with Tom. Her five year old son, Peter,
had been sold to a new owner in the South.
The sale of Peter was clearly illegal and Bell was
determined to fight. With the help of friends, she filed suit becoming the
first black woman in the United States to win a case against a white male.
Bell's success was astounding but with freedom came
responsibility and earning enough money was not easy so she left West Park for
New York City where wages were better and she hoped her children might find
education. These were hopes that would not be fulfilled. Slavery was behind,
but ignorance, confusion and deception were not.
In New York, Bell was introduced to the Methodist form of
worship. She loved the spirited style but she dared not join the services.
Standing outside in the street she listened to scripture reading, hymns and
sermons soon realizing she was a sinner before an angry God and shame
overwhelmed her. Then a new picture entered her mind and everything changed. "I
felt Jesus come between God and me as sensibly as I ever felt an umbrella
raised over my head... and I saw Him smile." After that, she no long stood in the
street but boldly entered the church, listening so intently she soon had large
portions of scripture memorized though she would never learn to read.
Despite this life changing experience, the next years were
filled with tragedy. Peter dropped out of school and joined the gangs in the
street. When a judge offered him the option of going to sea or going to jail,
he chose the life of a sailor and within a year drowned. And, Bell's trusting
nature made her easy prey for a cult operating under the guise of Christianity.
She worked tireless for the cult giving them all her savings. Her faith in the
leadership only broke after they were charged murder.
Again, Bell found herself embroiled in the court system and
although she was cleared of all wrong and the judge returned her money, she was
a broken woman. In her eyes, the fourteen years since she had been freed had
been wasted. She had tried to preach, but the blacks rejected her. She tried to
build the kingdom of God through the cult but it had blown up in scandal. She
had tried to raise Peter to be industrious and honest but he became a thief.
Now, all she wanted was to leave New York.
Bell found a place to heal working as a servant in
Massachusetts until at last she emerged older but much wiser with a small
amount of money saved and many, many chapters of the Bible committed to memory.
As she healed, she watched the increasing tension of North
vs. South and Bell knew she had a story to tell. When a white friend offered to
write her autobiography, she was ready. Then she surprised her employer by
resigning saying only, "Farwell, friends. I must be about my Father's
business."
With her autobiography in hand, Bell had decided to become a
traveling evangelist.
Although it was unusual for a woman to preach, there were
several black women in the northeast who had become traveling evangelist and
Bell wanted to follow their example. She packed all she owned, climbed on her
wagon and headed east. That was the only direction she felt God had given her:
"Go East." So, she went. She had no denomination behind her, no one to advise,
no church to support her and she was forty-six years old, but Bell believed the
God who called her would provide. She wanted to tell others about her
experiences because she knew her history as a freed slave, mother and devoted
Christian gave her a unique perspective on civil rights and spiritual well
being. Perhaps war could be avoided if enough people understood and she wanted
to be part of their awakening.
Bell also wanted a new name for this new life. Many years
later she would say, "When I left the house of bondage, I left everything
behind. I wasn't going to keep anything from Egypt on me, so I went to the Lord
and asked Him to give me a new name. The Lord gave the name Sojourner because I
was to travel up and down the land, showing people their sins and being a sign
unto them. Afterward, I told the Lord I wanted another name, because everyone
else had two names and the Lord gave me Truth, because I was to declare the
truth to people."
For the next twenty years Sojourner Truth traveled the land
preaching to all who would listen and selling her book to support the ministry.
War was not avoided but she never gave up the hope and when it was over, she
moved to Washington to help train her people for living in freedom because she
knew no matter how many obstacles lay ahead of them, with faith in God the
future could be bright.
My Path, continued
Dollar signs dance before my eyes. There
was a lot of good stuff between those many, many pages. There were
Christian
classics, psychology textbooks, tons of non-fiction paperbacks,
counseling
books for professionals and laity, nice volumes of philosophy and a
smattering
of good fiction. Someone ought to want a bargain.
It took almost two months, but
slowly the shelves began to thin. I gave books away, sold books cheap to
family
and friends, haunted local used book stores, then set up an Amazon
account and
posted three hundred, checking the market value of each. I packaged and
mailed.
Pulled additional volumes from shelves. Cleaned, repriced, packaged and
mailed
another round.
Finally, sales slowed down. Only a
hundred and seventy-five forlorn culls remained.
By this time I was getting a little
weary with the process and decided to close out the project. I would
take the
entire lot to Half-Price Books in Dallas and sell everything at once.
Their web
site said they never turned down any book and paid in cash. The store
was 128
miles away, but surely with box after box loading my car until the
shocks bent
to the axles, it would be worth the trip. I boxed up, loaded up, drove,
unloaded and waited.
"I can give you thirty dollars, Ma'am."
said the smiling young man behind the counter. I looked at him blankly
and said
nothing. Thirty dollars? For a hundred and seventy-five books that I had
dusted, filed, moved and treasured for thirty years?
"I'll take it," I choked.
Grumbling my way back to East Texas,
I considered the situation. How could something worth so much to me be
worth so
little on the open market? My cell phone rang.
"Hi, Mom, what ya doin'?" It was my
youngest daughter from Tennessee confirming plans for their visit. It
felt good
to have a listening ear so I poured out my tale of woe.
"Well, at least you had a relaxed
day away from the computer, an air-conditioned car and lunch out."
I hate it when my kids make more
sense than I do.
But, she was right. I had a choice.
I could continue to grumble or I could change my focus and appreciate
the day
of life I had been given.
Slowly, painfully I pulled my attitude back
into
line. I had taken time to check the on-line value of each book I sold.
What
about checking out the value of five hours or pain-free life? Maybe the
day
hadn't been "wasted" after all.
If you have a comment, click here. I would
love to hear from you!
Footprints Today, continued
I definitely got my wires crossed
when I envisioned how my life would be. I've always been a big dreamer. I
wanted to have big parties while getting a good education, from a big
school. I
wanted a big salary to buy a big car and a big house with a big closet
and a
big wardrobe to fill it. I also wanted a big family and a wide yard
filled with
a large garden and a roomy play area for all the little kids.
Now, it seems the only things I've
achieved are big bills, big headaches, and a big mess strung from one
end of the
house to the other. With a four year old, a new baby and a niece, who is
two-and-a-half, all under the roof of a two bedroom house, keeping them
peaceful and me sane is a real challenge. A day seldom goes by that I
don't
hear, "Keirsten hit me!" "Can we have a popsicle?" "I spilled my drink."
"I wet
the bed." "Danica took off her diaper!"
That's about the time I realize no one has
had lunch, the baby is ready for a nap, the garden needs watered and the
dog
needs fed. Oh yes, l almost forgot the birthday party at three o'clock. I
stand
in the middle of the chaos and wonder, "Why did it look so easy when Mom
did
it?"
How did everything turn out so
opposite of what I had intended? Then I think, maybe turning out
different
isn't such a bad thing. Sure, a bigger house would be nice, but then
there
would be more messes to clean up. An education from a big school would
be
great, but it would come with a very big bill. Maybe not being "big" is
an ok
thing.
It is hard to explain how much joy
a child brings to your life. Between giggles, their first words, first
steps
and the smile they give you in the morning, or just cuddling on the
couch to
watch a cartoon, something magical happens.
My Great Aunt Alma summed it
up
best when my first child was a couple weeks old. She asked, "I bet you
never
knew you could love anything so much did you?"
I hear my aunt's question in my
mind and answer, "No, I never knew anyone could love so much." Then I
suddenly
realize that's it! Love! Children bring into your life a great big love
that is
bigger than all your plans and dreams!" I look back and think of my own
Mom. I
wish there had been fewer harsh words when I was a teen. I just didn't
understand how fierce and strong love could be. It's a love so strong
that when
all your big dreams shatter, you can still be full of joy; a love so big
that a
parent can neglect their own desires and still feel fully satisfied.
I still don't
like nightly feedings. I'm still tired most every day. Then before I
know it,
Sunday morning comes again and I'm racing to get everyone ready. That's
when I
hear, "Mommy?" My red headed, four year old son inquires as I stand
before the
mirror examining the bags under my eyes. "What is it?" I ask, but I'm
only half
listening expecting the usual "Watch this!" or "Will you make me
something to
eat?" Instead, he looks up with serious little-boy eyes and sighs, "You
look
like so beautiful, like a princess! I sure do love you."
As my heart
melts, I pick my ego up off the floor and I wonder, "How many times have I
missed a precious memory because I was too busy to really listen? "Thank you
baby. I love you too." It's all I can manage to say without sobbing and there
is no time for ruined makeup.
It's amazing
that one tiny statement, heard from the tiny lips of a tiny, sincere child can
make all the big dreams you ever had seem so small. I find myself praying,
"Jesus, don't let me get so busy that I miss the really big events of an
ordinary life."
Anna is a young mother living in Smithville, Texas
Back to Footprints Today
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