Yea, though I walk...

             

Yea, though I walk…

 

A story of courage, perseverance, and an undefeatable hope.

 

 

 

A faith-inspired novel by Kristi B. Godwin

 

“Yea, though I walk…” is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

 

Copyright ©2017 by Kristi B. Godwin. All Rights Reserved. No part of this may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please contact the author. The author may be contacted at:

DrKristiBGodwin[email protected]

 

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scriptures are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, International Bible Society. Used by permission.

 

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017917571
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, North Charleston, SC

First Printing, United States, 2017

 ISBN-13: 978-1979301411 

 ISBN-10:1979301417

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

There was a throbbing ache in her cheek where it hit the ground on impact. The grit of the dirt mixed with small stones and broken bits of sticks dug into her skin as her cheek lay motionless, held there by the forceful pressure of his hand. She felt as if she were in some kind of dream…or rather, nightmare…because her mind just couldn’t accept yet that this was really happening. In a glazed image, she could see her little brother struggling in the arms of their father some distance away. He was frantically trying to break loose, screaming and crying hysterically. She had already gone quiet and limp with the realization that no help was forthcoming. Her voice was hoarse from screaming, though no one could know that because her mouth remained closed and silent. She had stopped struggling a few moments ago because it became clear to her that she was greatly out-powered, and her struggling only created anger and backlash in the form of physical pain. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she knew that it was wrong to her very core. No child should be enduring this at the hands of her own family members, that she was sure of. A grave injustice was being done, one she was even now struggling to process and understand. What was going to happen to her? What were they doing? Was she destined to have only five years on this earth? Her soul was overwhelmed with grief and pain so intense she could not comprehend or contain it, then everything went quiet…

 

 

 

Chapter One:

Hanging by a thread…..

Anna sat in the sand, her knees drawn up to her chest, her deep blue eyes staring sightlessly out into the horizon, long brown hair blowing behind her like an auburn flame. Her profile cut a stark outline against the pale white sand and the frothy sea-blue water. The casual observer might have been struck by her beauty but anyone who looked closely would have seen the haunting emotions that played across her face and in her eyes. The ocean waves crashed onto the shore, ebbing and flowing with the movement of the tide, but she didn’t notice. Nor did she see the beautiful warm colors of the sky as the sun crept toward its nightly resting place. Her mind was elsewhere, searching deep within the recesses of her soul. She was replaying all the events of her life that had led up to that moment, and wondering what the future might hold. This day would be pivotal, one way or the other. That it would change the rest of her life, she knew without a doubt. How it would change her life was still uncertain. The screech of a low-swooping seagull snapped her back into reality long enough to realize that darkness was approaching. She was suddenly flooded with apprehension, excitement mixed with fear. It was almost time. She jumped up, brushing off the seat of her capris briskly as she walked hurriedly toward the cottage just a few yards away. 

Once inside, she looked in the mirror despondently, not really for any particular reason other than out of habit, and recognition did not even register for the hopeless eyes staring back at her. On one level she knew it was her in the mirror, with the long, flowing, wavy brown hair, and the almond-shaped eyes with depths of pain no one could fathom. On the other hand, though, the joyless oval face with downward turned mouth was so far from the person she imagined herself to be…full of light and joy and love…that it could have been a stranger. The image before her faded into the ones in her mind and she no longer saw herself, or anything in the room around her.

In her mind she saw her life, laid out before her like a map. Images of incredible pain, betrayal, loss, and abuse flashed before her until she was almost crippled from the weight of it. Then she saw her children’s smiling faces, and heard their laughter in her ears. She remembered, then, why she was still here. Life was not what she imagined it to be, not what she dreamed and hoped it would be, and certainly not what she wanted it to be. Branded in her mind was a lifetime of struggle, with the greatest struggle being the effort it took to just stay alive. Always before she had hoped the struggle would ease. That light would break through the darkness. Somehow, some day, that things would get better. Yet here she was, after three decades of hanging on to that foolish hope, and her pain was only intensified. She felt like a failure on every level. She was failing at life and failing the God she so loved. Her strongest passion in life had always been to please God, and to reach others for Him. Everything else she pursued was really only a means to that end. But after fighting against all odds for decades, here she stood, feeling disqualified for ministry, unwelcome in the church, unwanted by her husband, and unable to pursue her greatest callings in life.

She began to understand why women would commit suicide and leave behind children. She had no family to offer them. Only her love. “If I escape the situation they could grow up with a family and a father. Maybe they wouldn’t even miss me. It would be better that way,” the lies of Satan whispered in her ear. “You’re the problem,” said her husband. “You’re the problem,” said his brother. “You’re the problem,” said even some of the pastors of the church. Remove yourself. Remove the problem. Problem solved. That was her logic. She was running out of reasons to justify an argument against the whispers. She was running out of reasons to live.

 

Author's Note

Do you think this will catch the reader's attention? Is this something people will want to read more of?