Pastoral Ministry to the Niagara Medical Campus
Pastoral Ministry to the Niagara Medical Campus
Official Diocesan Shrine of St Jude
Official Diocesan Shrine of St Jude

Message from Augie

In times of hurt or trouble, we need to find places of comfort.  For those who live in comfort, the responsibility is to become a place of comfort for all, not a place of more hurt or trouble.

                “Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham…”

She hummed the tune as her hoe worked hard the red clay.  The bosom of Abraham.  The best place to be.  In her nine years at Momma’s, she had  heard lots of Bible  stories.  This was her favorite.  No matter what the boss demanded, Father Abraham wrapped his arms around that little beggard and kept him safe.  No troubles could touch him anymore.  Noting but love.  She wondered what color was Lazarus’ skin.

“Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham..”

She hummed the tune.  Her insides hurt so bad.  The little brother who kept her warm for so many nights.   They had sold him away this morning.

                “Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham…”

Daddy said that old Jeb had died.  He was too feeble to pick cotton.  He fell.  The overseer beat him to get up.  The old man couldn’t.   Daddy had shouted out, “That’s not right!”  After she heard him tell it, Momma and Daddy were silent.  She could feel the trouble in the room.  As the sun went down, Daddy kissed her and said, “I love you, darling.”  They knew.  He would not be there in the morning.  She hummed through her tears.

“Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham…”

Momma went to work at the main house.  She said, “Keep your head on girl!”  The master’s twenty-year-old son was looking”…taking a shine to her  now that she was almost twelve…

“Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham….”

Momma told how she had heard the men talking after church about Jesus’ story of the rich man and Lazarus.  The master had leaned back in his leather chair with his cigar and said, “I don’t really understand.”

She and Momma held each other, just the two of them now, and sang softly.

                “Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham…”

 

SO THE QUESTION:    HOW DOES THE PROMISE OF HEAVEN GET US THROUGH DARK EARTHLY TIMES?


 


 

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