Can’t be Afraid

1ststep

Today I was inspired by his quote by Flannery O’Connor, “I have found, in short, from reading my own writing, that my subject in fiction is the action of grace in territory largely held by the devil.” and wrote this as my initial response to it 🙂 || enjoy!

I can’t be afraid

to invade

the devil’s territory

with my pen.

After all,

That’s what the prophets of old did

And those inspired by the Holy Spirit

to wage war

By writing the word of God

“In the beginning was the Word”

The most powerful Word in the universe

I am made in His image

with a desire

to impact

with words.

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Need Your Love | Part One

— I’ve been having to write short stories each week for my creative writing class and so I feel the need to also share them on my blog 🙂 | Enjoy!

 

One night, in a sleepy town nestled next to a harbor where the chilly air made its habitation, a married couple encountered a rather curious situation. At dinner, like usual, they sat right in front of their fireplace on a soft rug and opened up about their day. Cole and Anne Baker had been married for more than ten years but were childless— that, however, did not bring a shadow upon their love. While it was heartbreaking at first, their love was too strong to let it bring them down. This particular night they discussed adoption. They were well-traveled, well-seasoned in marriage and in their relationship and thus they felt they were ready to bring a precious child into their lives.

“Cole, should we visit the local orphanage? Or go to another country?” Anne asked with her wide brown eyes filled with questioning. Cole set down his fork and grabbed her hand.

“Why don’t we keep it local? It’ll be easier for us to visit in the meantime. Don’t fret about it, my dear. The right child will be waiting for us, just watch.” Cole gently brushed his fingertips upon her cheek as Anne gave him a charming smile full of hope.

Truly, the right child was waiting for them, just outside their door. A figure stood across the street from the Baker’s victorian-era home, tears coming down her face.

I’m sorry, my baby, I’m sorry…. I can’t keep you.

She left the babe on their doorstep and ran away, never looking back. The child was asleep at the moment she left her, but right as her mother departed, it was as if the wee babe felt a part of her be torn from her and let out a ferocious wail. Inside, Anne and Cole’s moment was broken by the sound of a wail. They quickly stood to their feet and ran to the door, Cole opening it up slowly. They gasped at the sight.

Lavender | Part Two

— In Continuation from last time… thank you everyone who has read part one! I must admit, I was not expecting ANYONE to read it hehe, I just started doing this out of enjoyment. Hope you like the next part! 🙂 —

Behind you… I turned and before me was a man. I threw myself away from him and started to run, then I tripped on a rock and fell on my face. When I looked up, there he was. My breath came out in short spurts and he reached down his hand to help me up. With my warped mind, I took his hand. Immediately the world began to spin around us. I cannot even describe him for no human language can encompass his visage.

I see you are hurt, I see you are lost. When I found my voice in the midst of all of this, I said,

“How can you see that in me?” His face changed to what looked to be an amused look. I can free your mind, I can heal your hurt. Immediately I started stepping away but found I could not. I was firmly planted on the ground and stood resolute. He moved closer to me and I was mesmerized. He had something in his hand suddenly.

Your favorite flower is lavender, is it not? I nodded, my mind going a million directions as to how he could possibly have it when none were to be found in the field. I created them, this is my field. I looked into his eyes and found love like I had never known before in my life. You have lived a hard life, but I can give you a better life. The hardness of it will not disappear, but you will be given strength and hope like you have never known.

“How?” I questioned. I doubted him and yet something pulled me to him, I had no idea what. He smiled at me– at least, what looked to be a smile. You will find me when you seek me with all of your heart. I give you this lavender to remember all you have experienced here. He handed the priceless flower to me and I broke down again. Who was this man and why did he make me feel so transparent? So vulnerable?

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. My legs gave in and I fell to the ground in a faint. Not a horrible faint, just one from being overwhelmed. Everything turned dark and I lay there for what seemed an eternity. All I remember is opening my eyes, sitting up, and finding the lavender still in my hand. It was so beautiful and I have it still, right inside my most precious possession. It has been many years since this experience and I will forever treasure the color Lavender and the flower. After the experience, I took to giving random strangers lavenders and telling them of the beautiful experience I had concerning them. Many rolled their eyes, many listened enraptured. What I find most curious about all this is that the man did not tell me his name. In my heart of hearts, I knew who He was.

I met God in a lavender field.

Lavender | Part One

I used to think the color of the wind was lavender. What I failed to realize was that my perception had been tampered with since I was a child. My thoughts were never my own thoughts, nor were my actions a product of my own free will. Everything I ever dreamed, envisioned, longed for– never my own. My true personality, my true likeness had been stolen from me at the moment of my birth. Can you blame for me wanting to be free? Then one day, I met someone who broke the chains off of me. He smelled of lavender. The color of the wind became the beating of my heart.

#

Walking down the beat-ridden path, I stumbled on my sandals and cursed the fact that I had not been smart enough to wear closed shoes. I was 18 at the time and felt an unbelievably heavy weight upon my shoulders. Mother had been killed, father had taken to going off on business trips without even telling me. My life was in disarray, I had no money, no desire to even go study at the Oxford University which is where I had been attending prior to mother’s death. What was I going to be without her? Sure, she abused me mentally. Since I was born, she had begrudged me– why, I am not sure.

Anywho, I was walking down the path towards my favorite spot in the entire world; Fenheilder’s Field. It was my refuge, the place I gained strength and courage. It was a small circular field encompassed by trees soaring so high into the sky you would think it were a national park. The greenery always took my breath away, as did the lavender flowers that covered the field. My heart leapt at the thought and I carefully went through the crowded trees. The sky was overcast, naturally, this being England, and that day I decided to go to another spot on the field. As I cleared the shrubbery, my eyes fell onto an empty field. Gone were the lavender flowers, gone was the beauty.

I broke down right then and there in shock; the combination of grief and the loss of the lavender flowers tore me apart. Then, I heard a voice travel through the wind. Why are you crying? I stopped sobbing. Frightened, I turned to every direction but saw no one.

“Who’s there?” I asked in a cracked voice.

The Very Thought of You

Dedicated to my husband who prompts such delightful thoughts in my head each day–

From the moment I wake up,

Next to you, tangled up with you

My thoughts turn to delightful things

Things I hardly dared myself to savor before.


Tears induced by laughter–

A swelling within my heart seeing you enter in.

Those moments where you hold me close,

A reminder of the missing rib

Now being within your grasp.


Adventurous sighs and discoveries,

The very sight of you intimates

A reflection of the sight of me

Though differences are visible;

Darling, the very thought of you

Insinuates rapturous splendor.