Running Home: The Overcomer
Lincoln County, West Virginia (1948)
“I’ve never met a family as remarkable as yours.” Pastor Perry said, as he wrapped his hands securely around a second cup of coffee. He felt as though he was beginning to know the family.
“I never went without. The whole family held onto us kids as tight as they could. Having cousins was so much fun. We had some great adventures” Gordon let out a reminiscent chuckle. “We always liked to play Cowboys and Indians.” The breeze of warm spring-time air tinged with the sweet scent of purple violets lived on as a gentle memory of his childhood that played in his head.
“How did your family move past such a tragedy?” Pastor Perry asked gently..
“We had no choice but to keep on truckin’ along. We never were alone for long. Mamaw Sylvia was close by to help as much as she could.” Gordon smiled, as the sound of silverware clinking on plates danced in his head. The smell of Mamaw’s tomato hamburger soup wafted through the air and mixed with the bustle of cheerful conversation. It was as if the soup slid across his pallet as he swallowed, craving another delicious bite. “Mamaw always made sure to pray with us. Momma still grieved every day even as five years had passed us by.” Gordon took a breath before he spoke again. “It was hard for everybody.
Despite her daily struggle, momma had become quite the overcomer. I know dad was proud of her. He still tried to hide his emotion, but you could tell he missed Mavarine in the deepest way. She was his little girl, after all.
“Life threw us a lot of curveballs. But still somehow we always came out on the other side.” Gordon let out a loud laugh. “I think it’s because my parents were so stubborn.”
“I’ve noticed that.” Pastor Perry replied, nodding his head slightly.
Dad stayed as close to the peace of the farm and family as much as he could. My cousins and uncles were always around to provide a laugh when he needed it most.
One weekend proved to be another test of faith, and another challenge for the soul to overcome.
As we were glancing down the road from Mamaw Sylvia’s, we could see that flames consumed the walls of our home. We ran the short distance to our home. Our feet never touched the ground. Everyone hoped to salvage whatever we could. The smoke was like thick fog traveling through the air. The scent grew stronger as we got closer. It nearly stole our breath. Momma let out a piercing scream of anguish as the fire burned away memories far into the night, and reintroduced the familiarity of unrelenting pain that could be felt through the entire family. We lost everything we owned, aside from a few precious items: pictures, the Bible momma received after her Salvation.
I could tell that grief finally became too much to bear for dad. He walked off to sit by himself in the still presence of the moon. I could hear him as he cried out, arms raised to the sky.
My chest tightened and tears began to form in my eyes as Dad, uncharacteristically crumpled to the ground. As I continued to watch him, I began to cry. I could barely make out what he was saying.
“We been through so much. Why can’t life leave us alone?” “Why do things keep happening like this? Ain’t we gone through enough?”
The silence of the night fell through to the core of my soul.
“It is somethin’ that all our important stuff made it out.” He smiled through tears. “My heart believes only You could have been watchin’ over us.” He stood up, straightening up his shirt. “I am also thankful that we were all safe.” He looked back at his precious family. “Things coulda been a lot worse.” He continued to pray. “I’m just not quite sure what we’re gonna do.” Dad took a breath. “I’m angry because I don’t understand how all of this follows us. “All we can do is trust in You to keep us goin’. “But I don’t know how much more my heart can take” He sighed heavily. “I try to be strong for my family, but this here got to me. How much can one family go through? Everything seems to hit us back to back. He stood silent for a few moments. “We’ll get through it somehow I reckon. Amen. ”
It took two days for Momma to be able to head back to the dress shop. I went with her as she was needing to tell her boss that she wanted to take some time off to get us back on our feet. Little did we know how fast news travels in such a short amount of time. We were instantly surrounded by a flock of concerned customers who thought the world of Momma.
“We just wanted to tell ya how sorry we were about the fire.” Donna said as she enveloped both of us in a hug. She was a recent hire to the dress shop, and had quickly befriended Momma. “You mean so much to us. The customers just love you. People have been dropping things off all day long!” Donna gently motioned towards a number of bags full of clothing of all sizes. “Some of these we don’t even know where they all came from.”
Momma’s smile widened as she saw all of what so many brought into the shop. It was a true blessing.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank ya’ll so much.” Momma began to tear up. “This is so great. Frank and the kids aint gonna believe this!”
Later, when Momma came through Mamaw Sylvia’s front door she was wearing the biggest smile. “Look what I got at the shop today. The girls said customers left these bags for us”
Dad looked at her stunned. “What is all this?” He slowly began to rummage through the bags, pleasantly surprised. “Well, ain’t that somethin!”
Dad pulled more out of the bags as Mamaw Sylvia walked into the room.
“That’s quite a load you got there” Mamaw Sylvia looked around the room in amazement. “What a blessing. God has definitely been taking care of ya’ll.”
As Momma and Dad looked at each other, they knew that He had a hand in that day. They knew He had used this time to show them the true meaning of a boundless love and a heart to praise Him for the provision He had shown in their lives.
In the midst of tragedy, the Lord had remained their fortress. He had delivered them from every tribulation. He had been a constant source of refuge through all of their heartache. The family would always stand strong, choosing to cling to their faith, and to grab onto the fierce buckler their souls needed Their unwavering reliance on Him worked to pull them through the fire; helping each one of them to wear the identity of the overcomer. An identity of continued strength that would help them on another new leg of their great adventures.
“The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower”. (Psalm 18:2 King James Version)
