Widow in a funeral

Our dear friend has been with that church for so long. She’d told us so many times that when she first walked into the church her two kids were only so young – maybe 3 or 4 years old. Those kids are 19 and 21 now. After spending nearly a lieftime in that church, one can only imagine the depth of descent her soul has plumbed.

Her husband, who has given his life and more for so long, has been trampled and discarded. A bunch of fools and ingrates who lied and schemed to get rid of him. These low life ockers rejoiced, I hear. How can they call themselves christians, let alone leaders?

Not a word, not so much whisper or a gesture, to indicate they know the depth of pain they have caused. What became of them I wonder, that they allow themselves to be the seats of such plots of hatred and evil. What’s worse – all dressed up in a despicable disguise to whitewash the dirty tombs. The ugly proclamation of altruism that is so misplaced its ugliness defies the basest imagination.

I did one thing well and that is to renounce and stay away from that squalor.

When I see that dear friend, I cant help but think of a widow in a funeral.

Widow at a funeral