Jesse Hodge: A Story of Redemption

By Patricia Hall Guthrie

Growing up with his alcoholic, hypocritical father was not easy for young Jesse Hodge. His hatred of his father spread to his view of God, and because of this, he wanted nothing to do with God! Jesse first encounters unconditional love from a man named George on the same day he notices pretty teenager Kate. After marrying and having a son, Jesse continues to rebel against God, living a life of alcoholism, infidelity, gambling and fighting. Helped by the living testimonies of his friend George and his daughter Ernestine, as well as by his boss, Gideon, Jesse begins to see the love of Jesus which he doesnt understand and still spurns. Suffering two major crises in his life, Jesse is angered and bewildered. What kind of God is this? Yet he observes how the believers he knows react, and he doesnt comprehend their actions. All the while Jesse is resisting, God is pursuing him, faithfully at work in his confused, rebellious mind and heart. No one believes that Jesse will ever come to Christ.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524621285

Patricia Hall Guthrie

Patricia (Pat) Hall Guthrie, school teacher for twenty-four years in public, private, mission and homeschool settings, has been writing stories from childhood for which she credits her beloved seventh grade teacher, Lillian Smith. Over the years, she has written poems, short stories, book length stories, research papers and newspaper articles. In 2010, she published her first full-length novel, Ten in Time, Constantinople 1453, which was of the genre of Christian historical fiction told through time travel, bringing history to life for young people. Now she weaves a different tale, a story of sin, grace, healing and redemption. Pat’s desire is that this story of liberation will create in every reader the desire to know God better and to glorify Him. Pat is married to retired Presbyterian minister and former short-term missionary to Brazil, Weston Guthrie, and the couple has three children, four grandsons and two great-grandsons. They live in Pat’s hometown of Pulaski, Virginia. She can be found on Facebook under her name, her Facebook page entitled Wholesome Books and Stories, or on her website

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© 2016 Patricia Hall Guthrie. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/28/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-2129-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-2128-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016912300

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1 The Heart’s Cry

Chapter 2 Ernestine Remembers Meeting Jesse

Chapter 3 Jesse and Kate

Chapter 4 Circus!

Chapter 5 Crisis in the Night

Chapter 6 The Chapel is Ready but…

Chapter 7 Tragedy

Chapter 8 An Invitation

Chapter 9 Revival Tonight!

Chapter 10 Father!

Chapter 11 Making Things Right

Chapter 12 Baptism Day

Chapter 13 Granger

DEDICATION

To my mother

Ernestine

And to my grandfather

George

Who have both passed into the heavenly places with Christ Jesus

And who inspired this story

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I n this narrative, I have used for my characters composites of people I have known. The names Ernestine, George and Gideon are names of real people now passed into glory, but the story about them is fictional, some parts based on facts and tales which my mother told me.

The idea of the little story Ernestine tells Jesse in Chapter Three was taken from the booklet My Heart Christ’s Home by Robert Munger.

The words used by the pastor in his Easter day sermon beginning with Drop – Drop – Drop actually came from a preacher I once heard at a Preaching Mission in Bristol, Tennessee when I was a college student in the 1950’s. I have never forgotten those words and wished to share them.

The settings are based on real places with the names changed, but the story line is fictional.

CHAPTER 1

THE HEART’S CRY

F og lay in the valley between the two hills of Valley Creek. The Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia had closed down for the night, their blueness fading into darkness at the end of the day. A few tree frogs chirped out their nighttime serenade; a dog barked in the distance for a few minutes then fell silent once more. The creek near the house happily gurgled over the rocks, unaware and unchanged by the sounds of weeping inside the little wood frame house beside it. From inside, one light burned and spilled its radiance out onto the dewy grass beneath the window, causing it to glisten. Kate lay crying. Jesse still wasn’t home.

How many nights had she lain here on this bed with his empty pillow beside her? How many tears had she wept? How many prayers had she prayed? Yet it went on and on, month after month and year after year, almost since the time they were first married four years before. She laid her hand on his pillow, caressing it gently as she wept. With all his faults, she really loved this man. Jesse, please come home, she whispered. Rising finally to go check on her young son, she gently opened his door, her face wet with tears. Three year old Timmy was sleeping soundly. Sleep was such a blessing. It seemed to wipe away the pain of the hours before, when his daddy had slapped him for accidentally knocking over his Pepsi. It had hurt his little heart more than his face because Timmy loved his daddy so much. Yet now, after three years, it was plain to see that Timmy was becoming afraid of his father, for he was so unpredictable. One minute he was his buddy – taking him fishing or down to the creek to help him catch crawdads – and the next minute, his daddy was someone to be feared. It all depended on how much booze Jesse had in him as to how he treated his son, or his wife, for that matter. Jesse would never have hit his little boy whom he loved so dearly if he hadn’t already had too much to drink. Alcohol was the devil. Kate was convinced of it, and it seemed that Jesse, although he hated his father, was following right in his footsteps! Bending over to kiss Timmy’s little cheek, Kate saw that one of her tears had fallen on it, which she gently wiped away. Yes, they suffered together, she thought, and shared the tears as well. Many were the times she had to take Timmy into her arms after one of Jesse’s episodes of rage. She always told him how good his daddy really was, and that it was just that devil alcohol that had changed him. She would encourage him not to give up hope – that one day Jesus would get hold of his daddy’s heart and make him into the kind of daddy he wanted, at least that’s what she hoped, and that’s what she prayed. Slipping back through the darkness into her bedroom, Kate lay down once more, always listening – for the car to rattle over the old wooden bridge and for the sound of the tires crunching on the gravel drive – listening for Jesse to come home.

* * *

Jesse was drunk, and pleasantly so. He’d had just enough to dull his sense of any kind of morality, and had picked up another lady friend who had been hanging around the bar that night. This was his habit, and even though he really did love his pretty brown-eyed, brown-haired young wife, it seemed like lust just burned in his bones after he’d had a few drinks. He had pangs of guilt as he accepted the invitation of this gal who had invited him to go home with her, but he pushed any regret from his mind and kissed the woman on the side of her head with a laugh, forcing his wife’s face from his mind. Now he was leaning on this woman as they staggered up the dimly lit street towards her apartment over the grocery store. As they rounded the corner of Jefferson Avenue, they ran smack into big, burly sandy-haired Jackson Jones, who stopped dead when he saw them. Lindy Lou was his girl, and here was this skinny little town drunk with her tonight. Stop right where you are, Pipsqueak, Jackson commanded from a height a head taller than Jesse’s five foot, eleven inches. Turn my girl loose.

I ain’t a gonna do that, big man, Jesse replied, laughing drunkenly. "This little lady wants to share her bed with me tonight, don’t cha Honey?" he grinned, twirling her red curly hair. She laughed nervously, eyeing Jackson a bit fearfully.

"I said, she’s my girl, so let her go!" Jackson growled menacingly, grabbing Lindy Lou’s arm roughly, jerking her away from the unsteady Jesse.

Now you may be bigger’n me, but I ain’t gonna let you take away my woman, Jesse growled back, this time rushing headlong into Jackson’s belly and knocking him up against the wall of the building beside them.

That’s when they really got into it, slugging it out, while Lindy Lou took off running for the police station to get help. With her in the car, Officer Jack Pruner came careening around the corner with siren blowing in less than two minutes, the station being just down the block. By this time Jackson had Jesse on the ground and was beating the dickens out of him. Arresting the two of them, the small town police officer stuck them into the police vehicle, told Lindy Lou to get on home, and drove them to the police station where they were booked and thrown in jail for the night for being drunk and disorderly and disturbing the peace. The officer knew the two of them well, knew they’d been into it before. It was all a familiar occurrence to him, the court records testifying to the many times Jackson and Jesse had visited the judge. Young Jesse Hodge was a trouble maker for sure, and no, Jesse Hodge would not be going home tonight.

CHAPTER 2

ERNESTINE REMEMBERS MEETING JESSE

T he town clock in the courthouse struck two. Ernestine awoke for some reason. The window was open and the cool spring air stroked her cheek. It smelled so good. With the breeze came the sound of the clock striking, which had apparently awakened her. One could