He watched them cast the dice again.

I smiled at my little girl and imagined what frame would fit best around this pose of hers. And then I stopped smiling. There were tears in her eyelashes. I looked closer and noticed the little pucker just below the left side of her lips that she always wore when she was sad or hurt. I wondered what was wrong. I forgot about the perfect frame and worried about my little daughter. I wondered if I should wake her up and ask what was wrong. Her mother would have known. But her mother wasn't here. I shook my head as I turned to go out the door and then I stopped.

Previous Chapter

I
Every time I see you
I hang my head in shame
For all the selfish seasons
The times I was to blame

But you look back with love
A picture drawn of grace
Your friendship given freely
A smile on your face

Charity suffers long
The scriptures say; it's true
Charity is faithful
It's been lived out in you

II
A blessing I ask on friends so dear
When I need them they are near
To join in laughter or dry a tear
I know they will be here

Lord, I believe Thy faithfulness sure:
Myself Thou shalt steadfastly secure.
With Thee in me through every trial,
Though my head droop it shall be rais’d higher.

Lord, I believe Thou orderest my way,
Come gloom or gladness; come night or day.
If my faith fail, or I should lose hope,
Thee, Lord canst bear with what I cannot cope.

Lord, I believe that weakness of mine
Is swallow’d in strength of the perfect Divine.
And Thou in Thy love givest to me
The sweet blessed Jesus: all I shall need.

For a humble heart I ask
That I may complete this task
Purge my soul, take pride away
That I with joy might face each day
Give grace for every word I speak
And help me always to be meek
Help me show Your love to all
Lend me strength so I won't fall
Help me speak what's right and true
This shall be my prayer to You

Previous Chapter

When I woke up, I felt sick. I sat up in bed, realizing I was already late for work. Then suddenly the memories of the previous night flooded into my recollection and I fell back onto my bed.

My sister was dead, and I would never get to see her get married and become a mother, which was always her wish. But it would never be. My anger again was aroused, and I spoke aloud to God, saying, "Why, Lord, have you taken my sister's life? Do you not have any consideration for human kind?"

Failure. That's my name. I have always been, and always will be, a failure. There is no changing that.
When I was a kid I failed at school. I failed at dance class. I failed to do my chores. I failed as a sister, I failed as a daughter, but the biggest failure of all was my failure as a Christian.

Previous Chapter

"Matilda is very sick."

I couldn't believe my brother's words. Yes she was sick; she'd been sick for the past week, but had been recovering the past couple days. I had been there at noon that day and she had seemed almost ready to get up and walk. I wondered how she could be sick again.

Ever since I can remember I have wanted to be a wife and mother. Even when I was two. I was obsessed with baby dolls. I even remember praying that God would turn my doll into a real live baby so that I could be a mommy. Of course that prayer was answered with a "no".