The Bed

Fiction with Intention 

"That's strange." We sat the groceries on the counter and I looked at my better-half. A quiet house with two teenagers doesn't add up.

"I agree. I'll see what's up and you let the dog out." My spouse went down the hall.

I stashed the milk and eggs in the frig and let the dog outside. Heading down the hall, my better-half stood outside my son's room, eyes huge like looking at an UFO.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down!" My son's jubilant voice echoed down the hall. "I knew you'd come through." I picked up the pace and entered the room. He stood glaring wide-eyed at his bed and finally turned to me.  "Passed my trig test with an A. Can you believe it?"

Honestly, I couldn't. Math's never been his thing. "Congratulations."

My spouse stood frozen, face full of shock. 

"And I owe it all to my bed." He took the ice tea plunge landing on his twin bed. "Couldn't have done it without this bed."

Just then a sob could be heard from my daughter's room. Better-half left to see what caused such anguish, glancing back to see our son beaming from ear to ear.

"Son, what do you mean? You owe your bed? You know better than that." I scratched my head and looked at the lanky teenager spread out with arms behind his head and feet crossed.

"Yea, yea, I know where I came from if that's what you mean but I've been begging my bed for help passing that blasted test and wow, like did it ever come through."

The volume on the sobbing from my daughter's room reached a new high. "Don't you go anywhere. We need to talk." I headed to the door as he rolled over and high fived his pillow. "I'll be right back."

My spouse sat on the edge of the bed beside our daughter, rubbing her back.

My daughter hit her pillow with a balled up fist. "I can't believe it. I prayed for weeks to be homecoming queen. Weeks. I don't understand. How could my bed let me down like this?" More wailing. "It's not fair. I deserve to be queen."

What's going on? I stepped back into the hall and looked from my son's room to my daughter's room. They know better. I mean, who worships a bed?

A voice deep inside spoke.

"What about you? 

  Who do you worship? 

  What do you believe?"

I knew the answer immediately. Favorite websites. Good statistics. That political guru. Talk radio. Best friend. The ocean.

"How's that different than a bed?"

Romans 1:25 They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.

Tammy Van Gils is a writer, blogger, and small business owner. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Word Weavers International. In the Richmond area, she is a member of The Christian Writers Hub and Word Weavers Richmond. Visit her Facebook Page, Pinterest and Twitter @Tammyvangils.