Straight Down a Crooked Lane by Francena H. Arnold

Author:Francena H. Arnold [Arnold, Francena H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-8024-9088-9
Publisher: Moody Publishers
Published: 1959-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

and on through more verses than you could count. Just when Mary Jo was beginning to wonder if there would ever be a hiding place, the lament turned to a shout of triumph. The sinner found the true Rock in which to hide!

Mary Jo felt tears come to her eyes at that shout of joy. Carrie made it so real. Then she felt a wave of joy pass over her. It was real! A person could not find the answers to the big things, or even the little ones that often troubled him, in any other place than the true Rock. And she, Mary Jo Freeman, had been trying every other place she could think of, except the right one. Oh, yes, she had prayed. But in her heart she knew there had been something lacking. She remembered a day several years ago when she had been very unhappy because she had had a quarrel with her best friend. Both had said some harsh things. She had told Mother about the trouble and expressed her perplexity at having found no change in her feeling even after she had prayed. Daddy from behind his newspaper had said,

“Get that Bible from the table, Marjo. Turn to Matthew, chapter 5:23 and 24. Read them to yourself slowly and notice that five-letter word in the middle of verse 24. What is it?”

“First.”

“Yes, and what must you do first?”

With heightening color she had read the rest of the verse, “First, be reconciled to thy brother, and then bring thy gift to the altar.”

Neither Daddy nor Mother had said more, but when she returned an hour later from her friend’s house they both smiled approval. Her problem here had been the same, except that this time it was a wrong that she had done to those dear parents. It lay between her and her Lord. She had confessed to Him, but she must go to them. At first her pride rose in rebellion.

“But they have wronged me too. My sin was thoughtless. But it was just awful for them to think those things about me.”

“That isn’t your problem,” spoke up conscience. “After all, their mistake was caused by yours. Make your gift clean first by asking their forgiveness. Let the other follow.”

“Forgive me, Lord,” she whispered. “I’ll write tonight and tell them I’m truly sorry.”

She now sat quietly, relaxed and happy in the conclusion that she had reached. Already she felt better to have the decision made. She wished, though, that she didn’t have the headache. Was it a forerunner of many that she would have to endure when the weather became really hot? She felt sleepy but did not want to sleep. If only Mrs. Murray wouldn’t come, she could sit all afternoon and watch the clouds. Away back in the second grade once she had learned a poem about clouds being like sheep, white and woolly, chasing each other across the sky. How funny that she should remember that now! She did not feel even remotely related to the curly-haired little girl who had learned that poem.

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