Avoidance Of Doubt

Doubt, don't you dare come near me today. Not at a time when I need my strength the most.

As I pick my way through these charred timbers and smoke-covered toys, I need to think—I need to KNOW—that there was nothin' that could be done to prevent this mess.

All those kindly neighbors, they think they mean well when they come forward and whisper "Be strong—these things they happen for a reason." I don't need no reason. Their harsh words only bring you, Mr. Evil Doubt, closer to my screaming consciousness. Nope, I need you far away.

An explosion—that's what we all heard. We waltzed out that mornin' just as pleased as punch that we was going to the state fair. Was my husband's idea. He always gets these nice ideas, and I says "We can't afford it. Thought you said we was in debt up to our eyeballs." And he just replied real nice and says "Honey, we'll make it work. You and the kids deserve a break." And I just smiled real big and I'll bet the Lord gave him that idea because we wasn't gone more than an hour when that massive BOOM shook the whole damn town.

It's a funny feeling I got just then because deep down I knew it came from our house and I feared the worst. But I kept trying to make myself think "No, no, no, it can't be." I could've used you then, Mr. Doubt, but you was nowhere to be seen. So I scooped up the kids and we raced back home because I couldn't kill that feeling that all our property was gone.

And I was so right, Lord help me. When we got back, nothin' was left of our house but the foundation, some singed beams and joists and a few remnants of the kids' toys scattered about, blackened and smoking. Those poor young'uns just buried their faces into my legs as I stroked the backs of their heads and whispered "It'll be alright. The Lord'll look after us."

And then, Doubt, THEN you reared your ugly-ass head. 'Cause I started thinking, "Ain't it convenient this happens now? We've done sold all we hold dear and all's that's left was this little house which I refused to part with." And then those busy-body neighbors and their whole "happens-for-a-reason" arguments. Doubt, don't you go making me think their words have meaning. I just gotta believe this was a random, senseless accident. I can't be thinking this was for a reason, not even as part of the the Lord's plan.

But Doubt, you're making me think it's a plan alright. 'Specially when I look over at my husband and can tell his look of torment is fake. And it ain't because he never really liked this house. I know that man. I can see the gleam in his eyes. He's being real particular about kicking some of them ashes about.

"Don't worry, Honey," he says to me when he comes up and puts his arms around my shaking shoulders. Me and the kids are huddled close. "We got insurance," he says.

Oh God, Doubt. You. Stay. Away.