Plucked Out of the Net

By Georgia McCain

Donnie Slocum, twin to Connie in the book, In Straight Paths, finds himself entangled in Satan's net when he fails to heed his sister's pleadings to take the way of righteousness. He never meant to get so far away from God. At one time he had almost yielded. "I really want to change," he told Connie. Then he went back to college and his former companions. One thing led to another, and before long, he is faced with seemingly insurmountable problems. Drink and carelessness robbed him of his job, his lovely wife, Sharon, and his precious baby daughter, Christy.

In desperation, after he lost his job, Donnie staged a holdup at a service station in order to get money to return to his hometown and his mother. There he is constantly reminded of God's claims upon his life, and his mother's prayers thwart his every attempt to find any measure of happiness in the ways of sin and disobedience to God's commands.

Connie's letters telling of happiness working in primitive New Guinea with her husband, Larry, merely added to Donnie's frustration and misery. Always, she kept reminding him of her prayers for him.

After returning home, he continued to miss Sharon and Christy greatly and felt terrible for his actions that led to Sharon leaving and filing for divorce. He tried to reconcile to no avail. Finally, when reconciliation appeared hopeless, he met Lisa Whitfield and became engaged to be married. His pending marriage to Lisa was met with disapproval by Donnie's mother, who believed that Donnie's marriage to Sharon was “until death do us part”. Even when it appeared that Donnie and Lisa would marry, Mrs. Slocum continued to pray for Donnie's and Sharon's reconciliation. Lisa's Christian parents felt similarly to Mrs. Slocum and joined with her to pray for God's resolution to this situation. Continual ongoing prayers were also issued for Donnie's Christian conversion.

Just prior to Donnie's and Lisa's marriage, God answered their parents' prayers when Lisa was converted to Christianity and concluded that the marriage was not in God's will to proceed. Especially considering his prior marriage experience, this was difficult for Donnie to deal with.

Even though Donnie had been successful to this time in his attempt to resist it all--the prayers, the letters, the pleadings of Christian friends, and the inner voice--God reached down and plucked him out of the net and set his feet on the straight path to salvation.

His newfound Christian experience led him to make restitution for some of his prior transgressions, including the service station robbery, failure to pay rent and utilities, and theft from a friend. Donnie later felt called to the ministry even though he knew this would be difficult without his wife. He had continued to try to contact Sharon without success. He also felt conflicted about his call to the ministry and didn't know the best way to proceed.

A chance encounter with a minister, Jim Chaney, who had stopped to help him when Donnie was stranded due to car problems, led to Donnie's first ministerial experience at a small church in Jennings. At a Sunday service, he discovered a cute little girl that reminded him of his daughter. When he asked her name, she remarkably said it was “Christy”, and that her mother's name was “Momma Sharon”. Someone with Christy confirmed that Christy and Sharon indeed now lived in Jennings and provided their address.

Through this miraculous set of events, Donnie had re-discovered Christy and Sharon. After visiting Sharon, he was able to discuss his amazing life changes from his newfound Christian experience that made him a different person from the man that led to her leaving him in the first place. This resulted in the incredible reconciliation of Donnie and Sharon and a wonderful Christian experience for both.
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This Christian novel demonstrates that, when life situations seem the most hopeless, that prayer and trust in God can lead to miracles

• Language: English
• Publisher: Georgia McCain
• Release date: Nov 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370837755

Georgia McCain

Mrs. McCain died from injuries sustained in an automobile accident at age 87 on December 9, 2013. She maintained her Christian commitment and ministry, as well as her writing skills, until the time of her unfortunate death.At the time of her death, many of her books were out of print. To preserve the books and allow many new readers to enjoy, the books are being converted to e-books by her family. To increase relevancy and impact to a more contemporary and international audience, minor edits to the original text have been made to some of the books.The following article was published in the Cenla Focus in October 2012 prior to Mrs. McCain's death, and provides a synopsis of Mrs. McCain's life as an author. It was authored by Holly Jo LinzayGeorgia McCain, an author of 10 published books, recalls the day she felt the Lord Jesus lead her to start writing. "I was standing in the kitchen, and God asked me, 'What is that in your hand?" McCain remembers, and answered, "'Only a pen, Lord.' Then He asked me if I would use the pen for his honor and glory, and I said, 'Yes, Lord, as you direct me, I will write for the glory and honor of God."That very night, her first short novel unfolded completely from beginning to end. "The Lord gave me the name of the book and just opened up the story for me from the first page to the last," notes McCain about her first book, Through Troubled Waters, which was published more than 40 years ago. Her first book is a work of fiction interwoven with Biblical truths. McCain has sold thousands of copies, and has received letters from people all over the world expressing how the book touched their hearts. "I never dreamed about writing a book, let alone getting one published,' McCain notes.As a child, McCain wrote poems and made up short stories. In the ninth grade, as her teacher was passing out Christmas gifts to the class, she called McCain to the front of the classroom. She told the class that Georgia had a gift for all her classmates. Stunned, McCain realized her teacher had made copies of a story she had written and shared it with the class. From time to time, she would write another short story. Later, she was asked by a preacher to write a story that would continue and develop in a religious paper. 'I told him that I couldn't just sit down and write a story. God had to give me the thoughts: McCain recalls, remembering it was later that night that she heard God question her about writing. When her son, Danny, came home from college, he read her story, Through Troubled Waters, and encouraged McCain to get it published. "Everything I write, I want it to honor God,' McCain says with conviction.The 84-year-old author is a woman of prayer, and has lived a life in pursuit of holiness. Growing up as one of 14 children In the rural community of Rigolette, McCain graduated from Tioga High School. At 19 years old, she met and started dating a young man named Carl McCain. He worked as a lineman for South Central Bell and she was working as a telephone operator. After a whirlwind courtship, the two were married on July 1, 1946.The young couple made their home in Rigolette and raised their seven children--Ronald, Danny, Kenny, Randy, Barry, Donna and Jackie. The family attended Tioga Wesleyan Methodist Church, where Georgia and Carl served in every ministry they could. They have 19 grandchildren and four great-grandchildren. The two were married for 62 years before Carl passed away. Her home is a testament to a close-knit family with photographs vying for space on shelves stocked full with mementoes from the grandchildren. A legacy of love is showcased with framed drawings from the kids alongside epic poems written by McCain about her family.In between her serving at her church and raising seven children, McCain found time to write more books. Her second book, Trials and Triumphs, is non-fiction and retates many of her personal experiences, including the loss of her four-month-old grandson, Nathaniel, to meningitis. Her third book, a fictional novel, Shattered Shackles, deals with alcoholism and its affect on a family. "My daddy was an alcoholic, who would say he was tapering off when he was trying to quit. Later, he did sober up," McCain says, adding that her real-life experience probably played a role in the book.Another of her books, God's Little Lambs, is a compilation of stories written for children that can be read as bedtime stories or for family devotions. At one time, McCain says she felt impressed to write a novel about some twins. In Straight Paths, the story of fiery-tempered "Connie Slocum" unwinds as she struggles with heartaches, persecution, separation and loneliness. In the book's sequel, Plucked Out ofthe Net, Connie's twin brother, "Donnie Slocum," is featured in a story of redemption.Three of McCain's books have dealt with prayer and answers to "prevailing" prayer. "It is absolutely amazing that God has spoken to me over and over, and keeps giving me books to write. He has faithfully led me all the way," notes McCain. In all, she has written 10 books, and family and friends are after her to write a book of poems. She has written long poems with clever rhymes marking nearly every milestone in her and her family's life.It does not take long to get caught up reading one of McCain's books, and believing the incredible stories of faith in the non-fiction books. Written In such honest prose, her words flow from her heart and from a life seeking after holiness. If her books inspire and encourage or cause someone to "seek the Lord," then McCain says the books have served their purpose. "God deserves all the glory for anything accomplished through the writing or reading of these books," she emphasizes.A woman of faith, McCain has taught Sunday School and Bible studies in just about every ministry at her church. In addition, for the last 34 years, she has taught three different Bible study groups at three different nursing homes. McCain has been honored and received numerous awards for her volunteer service from Ball Senior Citizens Center and various nursing homes. In 2001, she was named the Volunteer of the Year of Tioga Manor and named "Most Faithful" volunteer at two other nursing homes.When her husband Carl served for a number of years on the Rapides Parish Police Jury, McCain supported him by participating in a variety of ways in the community. Known as a great cook by her family and friends, her daughter, Donna, presented her with a cookbook of the family recipes on her 50th wedding anniversary. Besides serving the Lord, McCain says her most important role in life has been as a wife and mother. She said all her children are “successful and love the Lord," and that they never gave her a "lick of trouble" beceuse she kept them in church and a "switch on their behinds", if needed. Her son, Danny, who is a missionary in Nigeria, even calls her every day.McCain says she is "blessed beyond measure by the Lord" with family and friends. Some have called her a "prayer warrior," in seeking God's will in her life. One piece of advice she freely gives out to all who will listen is the same encouragement she offers in her last book, Walking with God for Over 50 Years, "Sometimes when we can't seem to pray our way through, we can often times praise our way through to God. Try it."

Book preview

Plucked Out of the Net

Georgia Davenport McCain

Published by Ron McCain at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Ron McCain

Smashwords Edition License Notes

Thank you downloading this ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friend. This book may be reproduced, copied, and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to your favorite ebook retailer to discover other books by this author. Thanks you for your support.

Originally printed by Old Paths Tract Society, Inc., Shoals, Indiana, 47581

Cover Art by Janice Simmons

Dedication

Lovingly dedicated to Little Laura Abigail McCain.

Also to a friend, Eileen Sanders, who has been a wonderful help and encouragement to me in my writings.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

BOOKS BY GEORGIA DAVENPORT MCCAIN

LETTERS FROM READERS OF GEORGIA MCCAIN BOOKS

CHAPTER ONE

Donnie read the letter hastily, then again more slowly. With an unsteady hand he pulled the last cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket and tossed the empty package in the direction of the wastebasket. His attention still on the letter, he stuck the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and felt around on the end table for his lighter, but it was not there. He stood to his feet and emptied his pants pockets. A quarter, two nickels, six pennies, a key chain with his car keys, and a small knife-but no cigarette lighter. He patted his empty shirt pocket. Thoroughly exasperated, he began his routine search through the apartment for the much-used lighter. Finding it on the kitchen cabinet near the toaster, he lit his cigarette and returned to his chair in the living room.

After taking a few puffs he leaned back, satisfied now, and knocked the ashes off the cigarette into the ashtray nearby. He picked up the letter again, a frown creasing his forehead. It was from his old friend Ralph.

Dear Donnie and Sharon,

Trust this finds you both okay and enjoying life. Judy, Chad, and I are fine. The Lord has blessed us with good health and many other rich blessings. We're grateful for His goodness to us.

I tried to get a call through to you, but was told your telephone was disconnected. I had a hard time getting your address, but finally found it in a little address book in your mom's purse. I suppose you will be wondering what right I had to look in her purse. Well, ordinarily I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing, but getting on to the point, your mom is in the hospital. She was on her way to work, and a big truck ran that stop sign at Chester and Orchid Street and hit her broadsided. She was pinned in her car for about an hour before they could get her out.

Sorry to have to break the news like this, but she's in a fix. Both of her legs are broken, plus some ribs. She also has a mild concussion and numerous cuts and bruises. The doctor said she would be all right, but it would be a long, drawn-out ordeal before she would be completely well again. The man who hit her had insurance, so, thankfully, her bills will be paid. You know how your mom hates bills!

She is rational part of the time, but they keep her pretty heavily sedated. When I asked her about contacting you, she said not to bother you because she was going to be all right. But I talked to Brother Morgan and he thought you should be contacted. So I tried to call but, as I told you, I ran into difficulties there. Mrs. Flowers suggested I look in. your mom's purse for your address, and that's where we found it.

I wish you could come for a few days at least. It would really lift your mom's spirits, I know. Judy and I and others of the church folks are taking turns sitting with her, but of course that's not quite like having your own family.

I didn't know what to do about letting Connie know. With her being so far away in New Guinea, I thought it might be best not to notify her. It would really tear her up if she knew. You can do what you think best about that. But I felt I had to let you know. I still consider you one of my best friends, though I hardly ever see you or hear from you anymore.

Well, I must close, but I can't sign off without letting you know we're still praying for you. I hope you won't be angry with me for saying so, but the pleasures of this world will never quench the thirst of your soul. Why don't you give God a chance? Just remember, when you come to the end of yourself, you can turn to Jesus and He will take you in. He waits with outstretched arms.

Your friend,

Ralph

Donnie folded the disturbing letter and stuck it in the envelope, then he headed for the refrigerator for a bottle of beer, thinking, I'm so jittery! He popped off the lid and took a drink. Maybe this will calm my nerves.

He paced back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, his mind in a turmoil.

Poor Mom ... Poor Mom! I should go to her, I know, but how can I? With her several hundred miles away and me without money to buy even the first tank of gas for the car. No gas. No money. No job. No NOTHING!

What can I do? What can I do? Where can I turn for help? his heart cried out.

A small still voice answered, Why don't you give God a chance? Just remember, when you come to the end of yourself, you can turn to Jesus and He will take you in.

That letter! he thought in disgust. Those were the very words Ralph wrote in that letter. What could Jesus do for me--wretched, miserable, lonely, dejected man that I am? Could He get me back my job and my wife and my little angel girl? Would He pay my overdue apartment rent? My utilities?

I don't need some imaginary help, or help in the sweet bye-and-bye. I need help now. Now! when I'm left with nothing to live for.

When you come to the end of yourself.... Donnie shook his head as if to shake out the unwanted thoughts. He took out his wallet and counted his money.

I'll run down to the service station and call Mom from the pay phone there, he decided. I still have enough money to do that.

He picked up his car keys from the table where he had thrown .. them earlier and went out the door, locking it behind him. He backed the car out of the driveway and headed for Woodson's, a service station about three miles down the road.

Can you let me have some change for this five? he asked the attendant. I want to make a long-distance call. My mother was in a wreck and I want to see how she is.

Sure, the attendant answered, counting out the change. Bad wreck, was it?

Pretty bad, I guess. They say she has both legs broken and some broken ribs.

Too bad! I'm sorry to hear that. Oh, excuse me. I see I have a customer. The man hurried out the door.

Left alone, Donnie picked up the receiver and dialed the operator, giving her instructions for his call.

Donnie could hear her talking to an information operator. Then he heard a ring and a voice on the other end answering, Terryville General Hospital.

I have a person-to-person call for Elaine Slocum. In a few seconds Donnie heard the answer, "Room 422.

Shall I ring?"

Yes, operator.

Once again Donnie felt all jittery inside. How seriously was his dear mom hurt? he wondered. Had Ralph really leveled with him?

Hello, someone said, but Donnie knew the voice on the other end of the line was not his mother's.

This is long distance. I have a call for Elaine Slocum, the operator said patiently.

Who's calling, please?

Donnie Slocum.

One moment, I'll see if she's able to talk .... Mrs. Slocum, Mrs. Slocum, wake up. Donnie's calling. Can you talk to Donnie, Mrs. Slocum? Wake up! Here let me get a cold rag and wash your face. Now, can you talk to Donnie?

The operator asked, Will you talk to the party who answered if Mrs. Slocum can't talk?

Yes, operator.

Deposit three dollars and twenty-five cents for three minutes, please.

Donnie dropped twelve quarters, two dimes, and a nickel into the slots.

Thank you.

Donnie barely heard the operator's crisp acknowledgment; his ears were straining to hear what was going on at the other end of the line.

Mom?

Hello, son.

The sound of her weak voice brought a lump into Donnie's throat and tears into his eyes. Trying to compose himself he asked huskily, Mom, how are you? I just heard about your accident a few minutes ago.

I'm going to be all right, son. It'll just take time .... How are you, Donnie? And how's Sharon and the baby?

Donnie couldn't tell her the truth right then, even if he had wanted to, so he just said, We're all okay, Mom. I've only got three minutes, so tell me what you can about yourself.

I have some ribs broken, and a few other things.

Like two broken legs?

I guess Ralph must have told you all about it-- Her voice broke off. She sounded awfully tired.

Okay, Mom. I won't hold you. I'll try to come see you real soon.

Don't worry, Donnie. I love you and am praying-- Again her voice trailed off.

Someone on the other end spoke into the phone. She's gone back to sleep. She's heavily sedated. This is Mrs. Flowers, Donnie. I'm sitting with your mom today.

Thanks for what you're doing, Mrs. Flowers. Take good care of my mom, he said, his voice catching. I must go now. My time is up.

Bye, Donnie. We're praying for you. God has been so-o good too-

Bye now. He hung up the phone, murmuring faintly, Miz Praise-the-Lord! She hasn't changed one bit. Still singing God's praises.

But how could such a good God treat my mom the way He's doing? Donnie thought rebelliously as he slowly walked back to his car. I've never been able to understand some things about God, how He can mistreat His own. As for me, I'm sure I deserve all I get, but with Mom, it's different. She deserves the very best.

Donnie started the car. The gas gauge registered empty. He pulled over to the self-service pump and put $2.00 worth of gas in his car, paid, and headed back to his lonely apartment, trying to figure out what he could do.

Where do I go from here? Only three dollars, plus a little change left. I've looked everywhere for work. Nothing shows up. My landlady is on my back for the rent and utilities-threatening to cut them off if I don't pay. Where can I turn? Dad? No, I can't ask him. I sponged off him too much while I was in college. Now that I'm married I've got to stand on my own two feet. I'll have to come up with something.

Having covered the short distance to the apartment, Donnie pulled into the driveway, got out of the car and went inside. Oh, how quiet it was! Why had Sharon been so stubborn and idealistic? Why had she left him like that? Oh, he knew he'd done her wrong, but didn't he have some rights? She never had time for him, so he had found someone who did. Now he sorely wished he hadn't. How he missed dear little Christy! He could almost hear her exclaiming, Da-da, as she reached out those plump little arms toward him.

Aw, Rats! he said aloud. How much can a guy take? This is driving me nuts.

He paced back and forth like a caged animal. Once more the small still voice spoke to his heart. When you come to the end of yourself, you can turn to Jesus and He will take you in.

Donnie reached for the letter from Ralph and tore it to shreds. Now, stop bugging me, he yelled at the offending letter. Ralph can have all the religion he wants, but it's not for me. 1 can make it without religion. Life must be awfully boring for those people who spend their time going to stuffy little churches and trying to live to please an Unseen Being. 1 prefer my kind of life to theirs any day.

After this outburst, Donnie was better able to forget Ralph's words and concentrate more fully on his miserable state of affairs.

I guess about all 1 can do at this point is pack my clothes and skip out and go to Mom, he concluded at last. He glanced around the apartment. Without Sharon's and Christy's things it looked bare. There wouldn't be much to pack.

He picked up a pen and found some note paper and wrote:

Dear Mrs. Durant,

I received word today that my mother was in a wreck and I must go to her. Sorry to skip out without paying the rent, but as you know, I lost my job and I have nothing to pay with. Some day I hope to pay you. I'm not a cheat, but circumstances are against me. Thanks for your kindness to us.

Donnie

What would he do for gas? Well, there were ways, when a man was desperate enough, and a plan began to formulate in Donnie's mind. He hurriedly packed his belongings and loaded them in his car. He pulled open each drawer and searched the closets to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Oh, yes. There was his revolver hidden at the back of the top shelf of the closet. He would probably need that--and soon. He unplugged the refrigerator, looking longingly within, but there was nothing he could take along to eat. Opening the cupboard door, he spied a box of crackers. There! That would keep his stomach from gnawing.

When Donnie picked up the cracker box he saw behind it two jars of baby food, Christy's favorite--applesauce. Tears stung his eyes. He could visualize her now--his little Apple Dumpling, as he called her. How she would smack her lips when Sharon fed her applesauce .

Donnie closed the cupboard door, leaving behind the simpie reminder of his beloved baby, and walked briskly out the back way without locking the door this time. Mrs. Durant would be checking soon, so no need to lock her out.

Speeding down the highway a short time later, Donnie wrestled with his terrifying thoughts. He had enough gas to go about fifty or seventy-five miles, and then--something had to be done. That something caused him to break out in a cold sweat. His clammy hands gripped the steering wheel while he argued with himself that he had no alternative. Life had dealt him a hard.blow, so he just had to do whatever was necessary. He would get even with the fate that had befallen him.

He glanced at the odometer as another mile rolled up. He had come thirty-five miles. His gas gauge was registering near empty. He knew he would have to do something soon.

Presently, he saw a neon sign ahead advertising the price of gas. He slowed down. A shudder of fear went through him. A first time for everything, he told himself resolutely. He put his hand on the seat beside him. Yes, it was still there. His fingers closed around the cold metal.

Don't do it, an inner voice warned.

As if I had any other choice! Donnie muttered.

The place had a little grocery store with gas pumps in front. Donnie parked to one side, where he had a view of the interior of the store. A young woman was filling up her tank. She finished and went inside to pay, then came out and drove away. Donnie saw no one but an elderly lady standing behind the cash register. It appeared to be a privately owned business, probably run by an elderly couple, he decided. Once again a cold chill ran down his spine. He almost changed his mind, then he hardened himself. Instead of driving off as the inner voice bade him do, he tied a bandana over his nose and mouth and hurriedly went inside. Sticking his revolver in the elderly lady's face, he demanded in a hoarse voice, Give me seventy-five dollars as fast as you can. It eased his conscience some not to ask for all she had.

The poor woman turned pale and began to fumble in the register, glancing hopefully over her shoulder as she did so.

Hurry, woman, before I shoot.

She pulled out a handful of bills and handed them over. He grabbed them and turned on his heels to flee. But at the door he stopped and looked back, conscience-stricken.

I'm sorry, Grandma, he said. "I don't like having to do this to you. It's just that I'm