Stretching, she stood and walked over to the guitar stand where it stood by the antlers hanging on the living room wall, echoes of old elk hunts. In Christ alone, my hope is found. The notes floated through her mind unbidden. Marlee could see Heather and Frankie on either side of her and lifting their own voices to sing with her. He is my light, my strength, my song. The small congregation was on their feet and there was her dad in the front row. She could hear his rich tenor: This Cornerstone, this solid ground.
Marlee pushed back against the memory, but it wouldn’t let her go. Firm through the fiercest drought and storm. No, it wasn’t firm. The solid ground had turned to quick sand and was suffocating her. Her eyes met her father’s there, in some in-between place where he held out his hand to her. She stretched up out of the pull of the thick wet pit but couldn’t quite reach him. Struggling, she sank deeper. No pow’r of hell, no scheme of man, can ever pluck me from His hand.
Grasping to find the edge of the pit, she was quite suddenly lifted. But the scene had
changed. The congregation was gone. Her father was fading right into that place where earth met sky way out there on the distant horizon. Marlee wanted to scream, to call him back, but all she could do was stand on the rim of that pit.
“Dad? Where are you?” Suddenly, the room came back into focus. She was standing there, one hand on the wall. Whoa. What just happened? Turning toward the hallway, she heard her dad calling her again. “Coming.”