Foxhole
Special-Order Folded Tract
NOTE: This item is custom-printed to order (click for more details).
This tract is from our print-on-demand library, and is not kept in stock. Select the options below, and we will custom-print a batch just for you. Because this item is custom-printed, you can add your custom imprint to the back page at no extra cost.
- Estimated shipping date: Tuesday, December 17 (Click for more details)
- SKU:
- Discounts: Discount coupons do not apply to this item
- Format: Folded Tract
- Size: 3.5 inches x 5.5 inches
- Pages: 4
- Imprinting: Available with 2 lines of custom text
- Version: NKJV
- Returns: Because this item is custom-printed to order, it cannot be returned.
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The full text of this tract is shown below in the NKJV version. (Do you want to print this tract in a different version than the one listed? Contact us and let us know what you're looking for—we may be able to create the alternate version for you at no charge.)
They say there are no atheists in foxholes.
Now I know what they mean. If I don’t move, the cold can be resisted and the chills can be tolerated. Turning my head even a little pours mud down my neck, so be still. My steel helmet is getting heavy and cutting into my forehead.
It’s so quiet. My eyelids are heavy, too, but the adrenaline is still pumping. I can hear my heart. I’m afraid. Fear seems to be my only companion.
I can see my buddy sprawled a few feet away, but he is motionless. I’ve whispered his name several times but he doesn’t respond, just lays there quiet like me. He has taken his own helmet off, but his back is to me and I can’t see his face.
Just thought of my mother. I can see her standing over the kitchen sink, wearing an old apron and humming. She always hums when she’s washing dishes or doing laundry. In my mind I see her turn, and while still drying a plate with a white tea towel that she embroidered herself, she smiles like she was looking right at me.
I can hear some sounds in the distance now. Muffled shots. Trucks are coming, maybe tanks. I don’t know if they’re ours or theirs. Guess I will find out soon enough. Smell of gun powder and exhaust fumes.
I must have dozed off because the moon is higher in the sky now. My legs have fallen asleep and I don’t seem to be able to move them.
Think I dreamed. I was a boy again, in church, sitting on the front pew with my dad. I don’t know where Mom was, maybe still back at the kitchen sink. She didn’t like church.
I did like church, now that I remember. I liked the singing and the stained glass pictures. Sometimes I liked the preaching. There was just something about being there. I wish I was there now.
There’s a bright spotlight shining from somewhere. Can hear voices. I wish my sergeant or somebody would tell me what to do.
I think I’ll just close my eyes now and think about that church, there with Dad. I can see us pretty clearly now, only Mom is there, too. I’m right between them and the preacher is saying something, about heaven I think. It makes me smile.
“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16
“So it was that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s bosom…” Luke 16:22
“We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord.” 2 Corinthians 5:8
“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4
“And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching.” Hebrews 10:24-25
Copyright © 2020 Larry Long