The Towel

The Towel

The Towel By Connie K. Cameron I had a basket of dirty laundry in the kitchen, ready to go out to the washing machine. I noticed a red drink spill on the kitchen floor and absent mindedly, I picked up a towel out of the pile and wiped up the wet mess. I threw the whole pile right into the washing machine. I washed all the towels with detergent and hot water, but the towel came out of the dryer, stained. What could I do, I folded it and put it away with the other towels. http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/The-Towel.mp3 After a shower a few days later, I picked up that same towel off the shelf to dry myself. I noticed the stain and felt uneasy using that towel, it still looked dirty to me. I thought back, the towel had gone through the same process to get clean as all the other towels, that stain was brand new, it might lighten up in time but the towel was clean. Drying myself with this stained towel made me think of how I feel about forgiveness. When I sin, I ask for forgiveness, and God forgives me. But sometimes I still feel the stain of my sin that is left behind and I feel as though I‘m still dirty. God has forgiven me but I haven’t forgiven myself, I still feel guilty. So I have to remind myself that what God has made clean is clean indeed. Then I need to accept the fact that I am clean. Jesus is our cleaning process, and I am the towel. And as the towel I...
The Cracked Guitar

The Cracked Guitar

THE CRACKED GUITAR By Anil Z. Mathew Made in Korea the guitar had belonged to Vinay his brother who had died of a heart attack and it had passed on as a legacy to him four years back. He had grown attached to the guitar. He would lead the singing in church the guitar notes blending so well with the consummate skill with which he strummed as they worshipped and sang together the hymns and choruses with passionate intensity, eyes closed ecstatically raising their hands, feeling the presence of God in their midst. http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/The-Cracked-Guitar-1.mp3 http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/The-Cracked-Guitar-2.mp3 Pastor Soman was a young man in his early thirties. He had dedicated his whole life to the cause of the good news of Jesus Christ. A popular and indefatigable pastor who literally went about like Jesus doing good wherever he went, living out his faith in a needy world, and almost everybody in the church and neighbourhood commented on the pastor’s exemplary commitment and dedication. Until his wife Minnie died of cerebral malaria. The high grade fever had come on with convulsions and three weeks of hospitalization and Minnie went into a coma never to recover consciousness. But the day she died something cracked inside the Pastor. People said that he seemed to have lost his equilibrium. The congregation of St. John’s Church observed the change in Pastor Soman with dismay. He had been such an extraordinarily gifted Pastor with such a deep commitment. The day Minnie died Soman also stopped playing the guitar. The rumour went around that he had given the guitar away. Nobody knew the truth, but people complained that...
The Hitchhiking Chronicles

The Hitchhiking Chronicles

The Hitchhiking Chronicles By Phillip Ghee Gypsy and sometimes Pharmacy Technician The plan was as simple as it was idiotic; make it through Texas on fifty dollars. Sure one could certainly write volumes on what flighty condition of mind, or what lapses in mental programming would move a person to do such a thing. But that wouldn’t be very interesting, now would it? So let’s go right to the action. http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/HHC-Part-1.mp3 http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/HHC-Part-2.mp3 http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/HHC-Part-3.mp3 http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/HHC-Part-4.mp3 http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/HHC-Part-5.mp3 http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/HHC-Part-6.mp3 http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/HHC-Part-7.mp3 Brownsville, Texas, A Hot Day. For a guy who planned to make it through Texas on fifty dollars, I was accessorized quite nicely. My white rough canvass backpack was quite fashionable and newly off the rack. Inside the backpack was equally new and fashionable clothing, specifically picked for their durability and weather resistant quality. The gear had cost me a pretty penny but, I had traveled across the country by bicycle a few years earlier and knew the significance of proper attire. During the bicycle trip, I had a bank debit card which allowed me to provide for myself quite nicely. Whenever a shopping challenge was placed in my path, I was able to charge the situation with confidence. I had no such card for these hitchhiking chronicles. Still I could not resist a sale and Brownsville, Texas offered one: 3 Hanes white cotton pocketed T-shirts for just ten dollars… I was just two hours into my adventure, already I was ten bucks lighter and making a Bee-line for the nearest McDonalds. It was obvious that this boy was going to have some trouble. So how does this work? It always looks...