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  • Mysterious Ways

    Slow Descent

    Jan 26, 2022 5 minutes
    By Byron Thompson, CONVOY, OHIO

    There wasn’t the slightest breeze that hot morning, but I had three more hours of work to do before I could go home to my family in Ohio. Masonry work had dried up there re-cently, but my friends Bill and Eli needed help with some of their jobs in West Virginia. So I’d reluctantly left my wife and daughters behind on our farm and taken the trip down with my 14-year-old son, Doug. I hoped things weren’t too much to handle back home. My wife tried to be reassuring. But I felt pulled in two directions.

    Doug and I had spent the week helping to build a retaining wall for a church parking lot. We just had to finish the last course of block, the top row, to complete the job, and we were waiting for the final delivery.

    “Almost eight a.m.,”

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