Soulwatch – A Short Story

A Note from the Author

Some people call it flash fiction. I much prefer the term, short story – very, very short story. Regardless of what you call it, the question remains – am I my brother’s keeper?

The question was first posed by Cain 6,000 years ago. After murdering his brother, God comes looking for him. We read in Genesis 4:8, 9, “And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him. And the LORD said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother’s keeper?”

The answer really is “Yes”. We are responsible for the care of others whether we like it or not. We are to send the warning call for all to hear. If they refuse to listen, that is certainly their choice. Still, we have a responsibility. We have been made watchmen/women on the wall.

Much of Jesus’ ministry was spent sharing parables. Parables were a special kind of story that shared a veiled meaning. Those who listened on the surface would miss the real meaning. Those who truly sought the Master would understand and respond. To those of us who want to follow in the steps of Jesus, the meaning is clear. We must sound the trumpet and warn those lost in darkness before the darkness overtakes them. Will you respond?

Grab your trumpet and come along!

Tonight would be different than other nights
Tonight would be different than other nights

The third watch had just begun. Elishima climbed to his post upon the city wall. For the next few hours, his job was to watch for the enemy and to warn those inside the city gates if the enemy appeared. Elishima’s trumpet, the instrument of warning, hung at his right side ready to be put into service at a moment’s notice.

The midnight sky was dark and overcast and a strange silence filled the air. “Tonight would be different than other nights”, Elishima told himself. He could feel a sense of danger all around. As he stood there alone atop the city wall, Elishima intuitively knew he would be called upon to save his city that night. Where and when the enemy would strike, he did not know.

A gentle breeze blew across the city wall. Anticipation whispered to Elishima in each breath. Danger was approaching as the city slept. Silence continued to grow into the night.

Then to the northwest, a glimmer of light was seen. A low rumble of chariots could be heard. The torches were burning brightly in the night darkness as the enemy approached on horseback. The salvation of the city depended on one man – Elishima.

With numbness in his hand and a tightening in his chest, he reached for his trumpet. The first blow was weak and powerless, yet he knew his responsibility. Again, this time loud and true came the warning signal to the town below. The enemy was coming!

The townspeople heard, but late in the night, they made no effort to rise. Perhaps it was just a dream, or maybe Elishima had made a mistake. Certainly, it was not serious enough that they should be disturbed. Elishima again gave the trumpet call, the signal that the enemy was approaching. It seemed as if it fell on deaf ears.

There were a handful of people who did answer the call. They ran to meet Elishima at the lookout atop the wall. At this time, Elishima’s perch on the wall was the safest place to be.


The horsemen rushed the main gate, breaking it down with little resistance. There had been no maintenance for years. The rusty bolts gave way with ease. Once inside, the enemy set them to burning and looting the city. All those refusing to hear the call were taken captive and later executed.

Elishima and a handful of diligent people were undetected atop the wall. They quietly climbed over the edge and lowered themselves to the ground and escaped under cover of night.

Published by My Very Own Writing Coach

I'm not getting any younger and I've enjoyed writing almost my entire life - from lyrics and poetry to short stories and novels. Most, but not all of my writing, contain spiritual themes. I am a born-again Christian, and I try to honor my Lord through the written page. He has truly changed my life and I'm forever grateful. In addition to writing, I also pastor Lifegate Baptist Church in Bellefonte, PA, and have a burning desire to see God revive our land.The Great American Fast is my passion so please stop by and visit me at I've lived in the same small town all but twelve of my 60 years. Central PA is a wonderful place to live - mountains, streams, and peace abound. I enjoy spending time with my family and the family pets - four cats and a dog.

2 thoughts on “

  1. Thanks for your short story Bill. Message received. πŸ™‚

    I did pick up the Hal Lindsey internet feed but I have to say it was somewhat disappointing regarding his call for money to support his ministry.

    Don’t these preachers read what Jesus said and called his followers to do.

    Matthew 10 – 8 “Freely you have been given – freely give”. Matthew 10 – 10-15.

    Sometimes I tremble when I ponder what Jesus really thinks about the various religious denominations, perhaps the worst of all the Catholic Church and the crimes they have committed against the hapless sheep driven by fear of retribution giving what little they had to indulgences. God forgive them.

    Jesus is not in the synagogues or the churches – He walks among the little children dying of starvation and disease in the Yemen. The little ones bombed in Gaza – they are with Him. Yes – you tell the suffering Jesus loves them, but it falls on stony ground when they see the devils children seemingly taking the very food out of their mouths. It must be terrible to see a little baby nuzzling its mother for something that isn’t there and dying from starvation while the only problem the rich have is – where can I get a Covid passport – I need my holidays.

    We stay strong – we work for nothing – our reward is in Him.

    I would like to say that the worst is over – it has only just begun – but teachings of the men of God I follow were burnt alive at the stake. Imprisoned for twelve years in the dank dark disease rat riddled cells John Bunyan wrote the book second only to the bible. I doubt he expected money for it – yet someone is still making a mint from his precious words as he scribbled away writing “Pilgrims Progress”. How relevant is that today – very relevant – dare to speak the Truth and uncover the dirty secrets of those in power and you end up in a prison cell in England. But first will come the accusers who will report you for speaking your Truth. The poor go to prison – the rich get away with murder!!! LITERALLY – How true is that.

    I knew a man who left thousands of pound to Benny Hinn – why – I told him – William (his name) he has a house bigger than Buckingham Palace – a Lear Jet. His wife also left him thousands in her Will. This was quite a few years ago and I pointed out to my daughter – a born again Christian – why does this man need a Lear Jet – where did the money come from – she replied “he travels all over the world”. No excuse my child – he should try walking like Jesus and his disciples or being more realistic in today’s world an ordinary plane fare – economy – then he might have been able to convert some of his fellow passengers.

    Sorry if this e.mail offends Bill but it has been my passion from the time I started my blog. We have a bible – we have the route map to heaven and we may well have to answer to God for our inadequacies. I say this because I remember failing myself where helping another was concerned.

    The woman who moved across the road from our detached house had three children. Her husband didn’t like the North of England and he decided to move down South – her choice to stay – there were various male visitors after he left but she was a social worker and the kids came home from school to an empty house. The mother asked me if I would take her daughter in until she came home from work. Sadly I didn’t want the responsibility as I was well aware if anything happened to her I would be accountable. The little girl came and knocked on my door (her elder brother was 12) she said she was hungry. I told her to ask her elder brother to make her a jam sandwich until her mother arrived. She said “there isn’t any food”. Whether that was true or not I didn’t know – I didn’t have the right to walk into their home but I remember catching her brother and telling him to give her something to eat – he just shrugged and went inside the house.

    We moved off the estate but years later I learned her brother had been killed in a motorbike accident. I can tell you that the Lord reminded me about that little girl and I had to ask his forgiveness for failing the child – not the mother. Three times in my life children have come to me and asked could they live with me – each time I refused mainly because of their parents. They were all emotionally and physically abused and I knew my husband could not cope with a situation requiring such commitment. When my life is judged for all to see I know that I wasn’t there for three children – but if you knew their mothers and history – it was a case of chickening out. GOD FORGIVE ME.

    Hope you are feeling better. I am praying for your brain fog to be lifted. In His precious name. Pauline.

    I shelled out Β£24 to buy two Charles Spurgeon’s books – to support a christian friend – Charles Spurgeon is long dead – so who is making money out of his works?

    Sent with [ProtonMail]( Secure Email.

    ‐‐‐‐‐‐‐ Original Message ‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

    Liked by 1 person

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