A HOPE WORTH WAITING FOR – A Short Story of Life

I wrote this back in 2011 and then re-posted it again in 2013; but it reminds me of my mom so I decided to post it again for anyone that has not read it yet. Hope you enjoy it.

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The gnarled hand, bent by years of hard labor and arthritis, lay against the thin pages as she read the words printed there.

“For we are saved by hope: but hope that is seen is not hope: for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for? But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.”

Pale blue eyes lifted from the Book to the horizon where the first rays of the rising sun were just peeking above the hills.


After all these years of living, what was there to hope for? she asked herself.

She had lost a baby girl at birth. The pain of that loss still crept into her heart if she allowed it.

One son had died in an auto accident shortly after graduating from high school, leaving a grief almost too sharp to bear.

Then, just last year, her husband finally lost his years-long battle with cancer leaving an emptiness that had been filled with love and laughter for 50 years.

So many losses, so much pain.


Where was that in all of this heartache?

She lowered her eyes to the pages before her and continued to read.

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

What good had come from her life, from the pain of missing loved ones that have gone on before?

What did she have now?

An aging body that gave her continuous pain and a bone-deep tiredness that was never-ending. An empty house that echoed with silence.

She thought for a minute, waiting for her heart to find the answers.

She looked back over her life, comparing her faith before and after each loss, each trial; and saw the good in the growing of that faith. Each time she drew closer to the Lord, strengthening her trust and her walk with Him.

She looked back down and her eyes fell on other verses.

“… in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

She sighed deeply.

There was the hope.

She loved God. Jesus was her Lord. Nothing could ever separate her from Him. She had the promise…the hope…of an eternity spent with Him.

That was all the hope that a body needed, one that was worth the pain of this life. A hope that would be patiently waited for.

© Drusilla Mott and https://drusillamott.wordpress.com, 2011, 2013, 2018


Commit Thy Way – A Sequel to “Thy Will Be Done”

A few years ago I wrote a 12 part story entitled “Thy Will Be Done”. This is the continuation of that short story. If you want to go back and read “Thy Will Be Done”, follow the links under Inspirational Fiction in the header above.


Here is Commit Thy Way Pt. 1 —

Jedidiah Brown set his mouth in a tight line and lifted his chin in determination as he stared at the station master. He was not about to let a little thing like a missed train upset his plans.

“When will the next one arrive?”

“Not until 10:00 tomorrow morning, sir.”

Jed narrowed his eyes, giving the small man the sense of being pinned to a stake. The man swallowed hard, but refused to be cowed by the giant that towered over him.

“Any place I can stay the night?”

“There’s a hotel over on Bealer Street, sir, that might still have a room to let.”


The question rumbled deep in his chest and sounded for all the world like thunder rolling across the heavens to the man that found himself grateful for the counter that stood between him and this mountain of a stranger.

“Cattlemen, sir. A group of ‘em arrived today to visit the stock yards. May’ve filled up the hotel, sir.”

Jed sighed and bit down on his irritation. What else was going to go wrong?
“How do I get there?”

The station master gave him clear, concise directions and Jedidiah stepped back out into the cool night air. As he stepped off the station platform and headed into the tiny town, he found his irritation ratcheting up a notch or two at the delay. If it hadn’t been for the other delays along his route, he would have been at his destination in California already.

He stopped in the middle of the town and turned to look at the doorway of the saloon across the way. He was thirsty but found he didn’t care for the drunken atmosphere that floated out that doorway and into the street. He ran his eyes over the buildings that flanked the dusty avenue and stopped when he found a small restaurant a few doors down on the left. The lights showed the place was still open and he crossed the street and stepped up onto the wood sidewalk.

The quiet atmosphere of the establishment was in stark contrast to the raucous noise that spilled out of the saloon down the street. Jed settled at one of the tables in a back corner and watched the young girl that was gathering up the remains of a meal left on a table at the front near the door.

She was young, too young to be working, even in a clean place like this. Jed couldn’t help by wonder what her parents were thinking to allow her to come into contact with the men that might find their way in to get a meal. As he studied her, he realized the top of her head wouldn’t even reach his chin; and again a frown crinkled his brow at the idea of one so young being put to work in a restaurant.

The loud laughter and crude comments that preceded the opening of the door brought Jed’s eyes to the entryway and had them narrowing on the drunken cowboys that all but fell into the room.

“Well, hello there darlin’.”

The slurred comment was directed at the girl, and she shrank back away from the three men.

“Whatcha’ got good, girly?”

This question came from the dark-haired one that had inched his way around the room and trapped her between the three of them. The vulgar requests that came from the other two in answer to this query had the blood first rushing into her face and then draining away to leave her pale and shaken. She tried to back away from them, but the dark haired one stepped forward so she backed into him.

The inebriated man shot one arm out and grabbed her around the waist. Using the other hand he gripped one slender wrist tightly, sending the tray of dishes that she held clattering to the floor. The tiny whimper that reached Jed’s ears had him lunging to his feet and swinging as hard as he could at the guy’s face.

He could feel the shattering bones in the man’s nose as the blood gushed out and down the whiskered chin. The man’s howling cry drowned out the angry threats from his comrades, but Jed ignored it all and pulled the girl safely behind him.

“I suggest you leave her alone and get out while the gettin’s good.”

They lifted their injured friend and carried him out onto the street all the while flinging threats back at Jed and the girl.

Jed turned to look down at her and felt himself sliding into her deep brown eyes.


© Drusilla Mott and https://drusillamott.wordpress.com, 2018