“What’s the matter with you, Lord? [Too insulting to the Lord.] Why don’t you bring your finger down here and smush those slavers?”
Elijah opened the gate to the donkey pen. Streaks of light shot over the hill east of the vines. The feed trays held small drifts of hay, and the narrow stream through the southeast corner of the pen flowed clear.
“Didn’t you see those little girls, Lord? Are you blind?” [Blasphemous question.]
His knees gave way. He reached for the gate but sank to the ground. He pounded his knuckles in the dirt. “Where are you?”