Lies: What Does it Profit? Part 1
As she put the rope around her neck, a voice said….
Tears reeled down Monica’s cheek as the pain began to cause injuries to several of her major organs. She made a Noose. Looking up, she threw the rope around the three-inch thick beam that ran across the ceiling after securing a knot to the iron radiator on the floor. As she put the rope around her neck, a voice said, “How the hell did you get here? And you better start from the beginning.”
Effortlessly, she was thrown back into her childhood.
Growing up, Monica was warned to be truthful. It was challenging. She would get into scrapes and lie so her mother wouldn’t physically, emotionally, verbally, and psychologically abuse her. Her dad, the better parent, was a kind, loving human being. He believes that lies are more damaging and encourages his children to be honest. In Sunday school, Monica was reminded that God is not the father of lies. Getting married and becoming a mother, life and the truth imposed more challenges than she could handle.
A few years into her marriage, Monica’s childhood trauma returned when her husband Charles imitated her mother’s cruel behavior. Weaken by pain. She repeated what she did to escape her mother’s wrath at fifteen. She fled to save herself and her three-year-old daughter.
She found love again with Justin Malcolm, a few years later. She remarried and became the mother of two more beautiful girls.
This morning was cold for late May as Justin left for work. His cup of herbal tea was in his hand after kissing her goodbye. Monica got her three children ready for school. After dropping them off, she went to the library to check out their summer program. She wanted the kids to do something positive and constructive for the summer.
On returning home, she saw Justin’s car parked across the street. Her heart skipped a beat as she parked and hurried inside.
“What are you doing home?” she inquired, walking towards him, who sat on the sofa in the living room. “Are you feeling sick?”
“Do I look sick?” he asked on the edge of anger.
Sensing his unnecessary rage, she swallowed her anger and then asked, “Wasn’t there any work to be done?”
“Yes,” he replied nonchalantly. “I walked off.”
“What happened between you and Ian? Wasn’t there some way you could work out the problem?”
Being unemployed, many questions were racing through her mind. Fear shoved childhood memories of hunger and pain to the front. The rent, food, and necessities for the children followed.
He then shared, “I am going into business for myself?”
“What!” Monica almost shouts. “What, Ian fired you?”
“No,” he said, glaring at her. “I am tired of working for someone. I want to be my own boss.”
“You are a Carpenter and maintenance worker. You have clients lined up, right?” she asked.
He stared at her as if she had asked a stupid question, which irritated her as anger increased her body temperature.
Fear took over, and she questioned, easing closer, “You can’t go into business for yourself without clients,” she informs him.
He shrugged his shoulders and said, “so what. I’ll get some.”
“Where?” she demands.
He stared at her with a blank look on his face.
“You didn’t think this through, did you!”
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