Short narrative fiction
I am unraveling the seventh piece of crumpled paper. I think I will use this one. It is getting dark and I am mentally exhausted from rewriting this letter over and over again. Whatever I wrote in this last one will have to do.
I am taking too long to read it. The tremor in my right hand is back, so I can’t stay still long enough to read the words.
I think I have forgotten how to read.
I envy the silence in my bedroom, oh, it is just deafening. Instead of quiet, the first sentence on the page is screaming out, begging to be free.
That day will forever be etched in my memory. One second it was hot like fire, and the next the skies broke loose, making way for heavy rain to burst out of clouds that could no longer carry it. Like a mighty army, the rain approached the earth. Determined. Incapable of being stopped.
It fell with purpose. Wiping out suffocating heat. Cooling bodies filled with sweat. Resuscitating discolored blades of grass that drooped sideways, almost dead from days of lack. Bringing winds of refreshing to our sheep.
That day, after we’d put the sheep back in their shelter, we ran straight for the back door of the house. With clothes dripping wet, we sat in front of the kitchen window watching hard drops of rain hit brown soil, wilted grass, and those thirsty plants littered around the sheep shelter.
That same day, my mother looked into my eyes and said, “Nina, see how the rain falls?”
“Yes, mother,” I answered, half-wondering where she was going with this.
“Nina, your heart should be like rain,” she muttered. “One hundred percent in. One direction. One goal.”
Deep, deep, deep down within His Spirit, He knew that no matter how loudly He shouted and called on His Abba, He would not get any answer that night. He was here at this moment to fulfill purpose. He would not be saved from the task that lay in front in Him – His death on this heavy cross. He was born to do this. He was born to save.
In the same way, “You also were born to do this. You were born to take similar steps as recorded in Proverbs 31. You were made to have victory in every area of your life. You were designed for His highest glory. Generations from your womb are supposed to rise up and call you blessed.”
Proverbs 31:28 says, “Her children rise up and call her blessed; Her husband also, and he praises her.”
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If indeed you are doing what you were born to do, you’ll be so surprised at how much passion you’ll put into it and how much joy it would eventually bring, and how much GRACE God will grant you to do what you were born to do.
Happy Easter everyone. As you celebrate Easter, I pray you remember these words, “I was born to do this.” Amen.
See you at the next one! XOXO.
I see you, as the sun sets over your home, chasing your seven children (or how ever many they are), exploring every nook and cranny in the name of a game. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with,” you call out. And then, almost out of breath, you stop dead in your tracks and lean your back against the wall.
What’s your intentional interpretation of that scenario? A home filled with chaos, or a home filled with laughter, living energetic voices, loving siblings, and vibrant intelligent children who have become accustomed to valuing play, education, or arts & crafts over screen time?
I can start writing about all kinds of scenarios, but deep in your heart, you know what your interpretation has been of your own home and family choices. I woke up this morning and the first question that came to my head was “what’s my intentional interpretation?” And right there, I just knew the Holy Spirit wanted me to write about it. So, this one is for you, if you haven’t been seeing your life the way God wants you to see it. Continue reading