Thomas’ Computer: a short story loosely based on real events
Chapter 4 "Messenger"

“ell nnu teek pleeez?” ask the messenger from the landing craft

The cowboy understood none of this for he was still arousing from the considerable shock he received when Charlie bucked him off.

“Wh..hhhat?” muttered a frightful cowboy.

He could not believe that only 5 minutes ago he was riding east towards Bozeman, MT minding his own business. When the bright lights first appeared silhouetted against the coming storm in the far distant horizon, he thought he was having a stroke. At first, he thought “oh, great a stroke out here in the middle of nowhere.” After the initial scare he accepted his soon to be fate rather quickly. Instead of the expected blackness to consume his tired mind and release him from his flesh, the light continued to get brighter and then turned in his direction.

“What in the seven blazes of hell?” Exclaimed the cowboy to his equally scared horse.

The craft looked like a mix between huge Cadillac from the 60’s and a pincher bug. You know, one of those super long, super opulent cars with the long tail fins on either side of the trunk but at least 20 feet long and 15 feet at its highest point. Instead of the interior cabin, though, there was a bubble like cockpit which could give the pilot the ability to see 360 degrees in all directions if indeed that was where the pilot was, if it had a pilot. In the front protruded to long pincers which the cowboy found to be exceedingly intimidating. If you where to step 100 feet back you would find this scene very comical. It looked like a cowboy was being attacked by a huge ant from some cheesy sci-fi western. As it landed Charlie finally had enough and threw the cowboy 4 feet and then ran as if he was several years younger.
As the dust finally decided to settle, the cowboy attempted to get up but failed horribly. For some reason his legs refused to obey his staunch order to rise and his bladder taking notice of the rebellion released its contents to the dissatisfaction of its owner. He felt like he was in the movie when the earth stood still and the aliens made first contact. However, in real life things moved a lot more quickly because the messenger in the craft had other jobs that evening and he did want to go home before his children went to sleep. A door swung open where there was no door before and a tall man replaced it. He swiftly moved to the man on the ground and then cursed unintelligibly to himself under his breath.

In butchered English he said “Diz pakeag iz tho nnu. Pleeez teek.”
As the shock wore off, his hand took the package as if it thought it now had the right to make decisions on its own.

“wwwhhhaaaattttt?” questioned the now thoroughly confused cowboy. “Are you what I think you are?”

Yet, without a reply the man did a terse about face and quickly walked to his ship. From his position the cowboy could not see the man climb back into his cockpit and radio his station in orbit around the moon that the package was delivered and he was going home. His other jobs would have to wait because his wife would not be happy that it took him that long to deliver that package. They had a new born baby to look after.

As the craft started up its engines, if it had engines, and at first slowly rose from the ground. The higher the craft rose the faster it got and with a deafeningly loud BANG disappeared into the fast approaching storm. As if on cue Charlie poked his head around a small hill he was hiding behind to see if the craft was finally gone. Seeing that the coast was clear Charlie started walking back to see if his master wasn’t vaporized.

“Thanks Charlie,” said the cowboy rather sarcastically. “Never mind, I probably would have done the same.”

Charlie nibbled on his shoulder as sign of apology. With much reluctance his legs finally gave back control to the cowboy and he slowly got up.

“Did you see that Charlie?”

A teen's childish prayer

This last Sunday I was a witness to a miracle. In Sudan Texas I am a mentor/teacher to a handful of kids crazy enough to think I know what I’m talking about concerning spiritual matters. One of these teenagers name is Tanner Testerman, he is 16 and thinks he has everything under control. Like most his age, who being raised in the church have a spiritual education equivalent to 6th grader. They know that Jonah was swallowed by a fish/whale/mammal/dolphin (they know debate still rages about this sensitive topic), and they know that Noah built an ark where a bunch of smiling men, women, children and animal lived in for 40 days and nights. They know that Abraham was old and Sarah was older, and that Jesus was some sort of sheep or lamb on our behalf. They man needs to be saved, but they nothing of what they need saved from and why they needed to be saved in the first place. I have spent the last year trying my best to help them understand the reality of the bible and the life of our Lord and savior Jesus Christ. To tell you the truth I have been getting incredibly frustrated with myself for not “doing enough” for these kids. Two weeks ago Tanner was asked to lead a prayer for the fruit of the vine, his very first prayer by the way. As I stood beside him in front of the communion table I began to get nervous on his behalf as he asked everybody bow their heads to pray. What came out of his mouth did not fit any standard we might have for what a prayer should sound like. He muttered several word repeatedly and mumbled some more only to end his prayer with a quivering unintelligible th..than…thank yyyuooo God. I could not describe to you in words at how proud I was of this young man; furthermore, I could not even imagine the love and honor the LORD must have felt to have this young and confused man finally talk to him. As I said above I have witnessed a miracle this last Sunday, because after some study and encouragement Tanner lead a prayer after the devotional we had Sunday night. What came from his mouth was both beautiful and well said. I have been so focused on what I could do for these kids I have completely forgot what it is that God can do through them. There is no other job like ministering to people, to be able to help and be helped along this road we call life is like no other experience I have ever had. Finally, when Tanner said his amen and raised his head I wasn’t too shocked when the next thing he said was “I think I’m getting pretty good at this.”

Thomas’ Computer: a short story loosely based on real events
Chapter 3 "The Storm"

What makes a storm believe itself so pompous and haughty to deserve the whole of the sky? Can such a creation claim that much space to simple relieves its energy like a little boy that had too much water before he went to bed. I wonder if God will allow me to make that same claim, thought the lone cowboy. The storm, now forming in the eastern sky was beginning to take the shape of any enormous dragon set to consume the world it so jealousy looked upon. The yellow lights of the city gave the elemental dragon the look of a golden encrusted belly similar to Smaug that Bilbo so gallantly fought against. Maybe this was his long lost relative escaping its own realm searching for worlds that could sustain its equally enormous appetite. Of all creation the cowboy felt he was most akin to a storm. Except this whirlwind had blown out long ago; long lost to the world so quickly advancing upon him. Like a storm he had blown in from what seemed like a faraway place only to scramble up everything he touched, set fire to people’s hearts, flood others expectations, and then when all his huffing and puffing and blowing refused to knock down the piggy’s home, he ran away to the wilderness where he has been ever sense. Yet, are we not all susceptible to the same nature. We come on the scene of life believing we have earned the right to be front and center like some comical play set before a grand audience. When we perform our short and inglorious act we are pushed off the stage like trash expended from a grotesque vending machine. Once expunged from the theatre we succumb to the fact that we are useless and there for dedicate our lives to remembering what it was like to be front and center and in the spot light. But as this cowboy was to find out he was neither used nor discarded. On the contrary the cowboy was about to find himself in the middle of a hurricane that would envelope both his life and the lives of all the people on this small stage called earth. Now all he had to do was deliver this small package to kid he had never met, in a town he only dimly remembered, and in a society he long ago abandoned.

“I hope you’re ready for this Thomas… whoever you are.”