I Was Afraid, and I Hid Myself

By O.M. Williams

This book is not religious or about religion but about a relationship with the Almighty God. It is not about how pretty and wonderful everything is but about the good, the bad, and the ugly. We are all born with a God conscious. Some tap into it, some ignore it, and some embrace it with all their heart and soul. Whichever one you choose to do, neither is without struggle and hardship. For me . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Mar 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781973654537

O.M. Williams

This book is not religious or about religion but about a relationship with the Almighty God. It is not about how pretty and wonderful everything is but about the good, the bad, and the ugly. We are all born with a God conscious. Some tap into it, some ignore it, and some embrace it with all their heart and soul. Whichever one you choose to do, neither is without struggle and hardship. For me . .

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

In the Beginning

T here was never a doubt about the calling of God on my life. I didn’t want to do it but almost wanted to do it. I wanted the One who blesses and the blessings in my life but on my terms. A little here, and a little there. I wanted to write my own script for my life but use God’s ending.

Sitting alone on the floor by my bed while making paper doll furniture for my paper dolls, I often sensed the presence and love of God. As far back as I can remember, I always knew that God was awesome, but I was not quite sure where I fit into that plan.

I was born in a small country town in Kentucky. I was the youngest of eight children and often left playing alone. There were five boys and three girls. My sisters were much older, so we didn’t have much to do together. My oldest sister was a fighter and a protector. She butted heads with my father over any injustice to the rest of us. My middle sister was sick a lot. She made a career out of being sick. I think she was afraid of being healthy; life brought too much responsibility. There were times I followed my brothers around, when they let me. Then there were other times I would have to make it on my own. They would tell me anything, and I would believe it. Like they were going to visit Tarzan when they disappeared into the woods behind the house. I wanted to go, but they said Tarzan didn’t want girls to come. I said that Jane was there. But they still went off and left me. They returned with knives carved out of wood and said Tarzan gave them the knives. I believed them. I waited on the edge of the woods for their return. I would have mud pies waiting for them with real blackberries mashed into them. I even believed my brothers when they told me lions lived in the attic. Even now, they think it is funny.

I had a bantam, which is a very small chicken. I had her for a very long time. She could not run fast anymore, so I would catch her, hold her, and carry her around. She would lay an egg in my lap. I sometimes put her in a dresser drawer, and she would lay an egg there. One morning, I got up and looked for her, but she was nowhere to be found. I really think one of my brothers accidently stepped on her. At least rumor has it. But I got no confession, so I moved on.

I had a dog that I loved and played with much of the time. One day, my mother and I were walking down the road to my aunt’s house to celebrate my birthday with my cousin, whose birthday was the same day. A truck came by speeding and hit my dog. It was the saddest birthday ever. I could not stop crying. He was irreplaceable.

CHAPTER 2

Death of My Mother

O n July 23, 1973, my mother died of stomach cancer. We’re not quite sure how it developed or what might have caused it. Some say it was the rusty pump where we drew our water. Some say it was a voodoo spell from some of the women my father messed around with. At least that was what the neighbor said before my sister threw her out of the house. I was never quite sure how the people of God were not able to discern even the smallest things. They spent a lot of time discussing things from the dark side, such as voodoo, witchcraft, and fortune-tellers, and how they might relate to the Bible. They would even say, The Bible speaks of it. But they could never say what the Bible said. Perhaps it had something to do with not knowing the Word of God and, therefore, not knowing God. They are one and the same. You cannot separate God from His Word. I am sure they did the best with what they knew.

Whatever took my mother’s life, or how it was done, I was left without a mother. I believe that it was time for her to go, and God took her home with Him. I don’t know why she suffered so. That has always been a question: Why do good people suffer?

My mother went from doctor to doctor but was not given a diagnosis. She became sicker and sicker and weaker and weaker. She finally went back to the small country doctor, who diagnosed her with cancer and told her to go to the hospital immediately. My father drove her to the hospital, where she was admitted.

After my mother was in the hospital, my paternal grandmother passed away. They buried my grandmother, and the next night, I dreamed my mother was going to die. I saw her lying in the hospital while we were all gathered around her. The doctor said she was not going to live, but after the doctor was gone, she said she was doing well. I went back to the doctor and told him she said that she was okay. He said, No, she is not. She will die. I ran to my father and told him she said she would be okay. He said, No, she is not. She will die.

The morning after the dream, I woke up, crying. I cried nonstop. I remember people said if you told a dream, it would not come true. I went to school the next day and told my friends about my dream. And they said, Your mother will be fine. But deep inside, I knew that she would not be fine.

On the way to the hospital the next day to visit my mother after surgery, I