Fifteen Years by Kendra Norman-Bellamy

would have remembered him and embraced his uninvited reappearance into their lives.
    Josiah soaped his cloth and washed away impurities that the water hadn’t already chased down the drain. Fully rinsed, he stepped from the stall and thoroughly dried himself before putting on deodorant, moisturizing his body, and then wrapping himself in his favorite bathrobe. He brushed his teeth, and then exited the bathroom and made his way to the prayer mat beside his bed.
    Josiah exhaled heavily before he began his prayer. The weight of the world was on his shoulders, and he knew why. He needed to be obedient regardless of the uncertainties. He needed to trust God.
    “Lord, thank You for another day,” he began. “I thank You because this is the day that You have made, and for that, I will rejoice in spite of circumstances. I thank You for where You’ve brought me and for where You’re going to take me. I thank You because without You, I can do nothing, but with You, I can do all things through Christ that strengthens me. Without You, I have nothing, but with You, I have everything I need. Without You I am nothing, but with You, I am more than a conqueror.” Josiah willed himself to believe the words he spoke. “Lord, forgive me for any sins of commission or omission, and help me to forgive those who have sinned against me. Let me walk according to Your will so that I may be a light to shine before men so that they may glorify You.” A pause ushered inmany seconds of silence. “And Lord, please direct my paths, and help me to trust You, knowing that You have never failed me yet. Lord, I believe, but help my unbelief. Not my will, but Thy will be done. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
    Back on his feet, Josiah walked out of his bedroom and into the living room where he opened his front door just wide enough to retrieve the Thursday edition of the
Chapel Hill News
from his front porch. Despite his rude awakening this morning, he felt well rested. Still, his black leather couch seemed to call his name. Ignoring the urge, Josiah tossed the paper on the sofa and made his way to the kitchen where he walked around the bar. A loaf of wheat bread sat on the counter, and he removed a slice and popped it into the toaster. From the overhead cabinets he retrieved a bowl, and from the drawer he grabbed a spoon, setting them both on the island that was situated in the middle of the kitchen floor. Three boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch sat on top of his Maytag refrigerator, and Josiah removed one of them and filled his bowl with the sweetened square-shaped cereal. A bit of the skim milk that he took from the refrigerator splashed onto the island as he poured it into the bowl. He used a dishcloth to erase the evidence. Like clockwork, the toast popped up as soon as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.
    Uttering a short, silent grace, Josiah began eating where he stood. The morning sun streamed through his bay windows, casting shadows into the kitchen. Signs of yesterday’s drizzle were still on the back deck and on the leaves of the trees that surrounded it. It was still early. He didn’t have to report to MacGyver until after his 11:00 workshop at Moniker Insurance Brokers. Contingent upon how quickly they got the hang of the new software program, Josiah could be at Moniker until 2:00 p.m. or later. It was only a little after eight, and he had time to kill. Too much time, really. Leisure time equaled hours of thinking about the past. Hours of thinking aboutthe poverty and the pain, the loss and the loneliness.
    Josiah wolfed down the rest of his breakfast and headed back to his bedroom to get dressed. The laundry could wait until later. After last night’s dream, he didn’t need any free time on his hands. The more he worked, the less time he had to dwell on the nightmare. There was always something to be done at the office. He’d busy himself there until he had to leave for his eleven o’clock appointment.

Two Weeks Later
    NEARLY FOUR