TITLE: Vinettes Through Heaven's Window
By Roberta Franklin
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She walked across the crowded, lonely sidewalk. Head down, watching her feet take steps toward the extinction of the life within her womb. Her companion boldly walked alongside; this was, in fact, the third time she'd committed aborticide. Today though, her guilt was one greater. Her "best friend" was walking up those stairs with her today, with the same destination--the abortionists table. To her list of soul numbing emotional scar tissue she was, of her own volition, adding the death of her friendís spirit.
On the steps just outside the bright red door a box rested, filled with literature she would never read again and refused to allow her friend to see. "There is another way," the title read. No words of hate, just a polite request to consider sharing the gift they'd been given with someone who really wanted it. "Adoption is an option. Please, may I raise your child?" the pamphlet read.
Four lives carried up the steps. Only two would walk down. Two lives with choice, two lives given no voice.
His bleeding heart exposed,
His arms aching to hold them all,
**************From Another window**********
Hardened by years of wrong choices, bitter and resentful he had grown sour, until at last there was only the closed door, the empty room, the bottle and The Book. His youth wasted on too much of everything he refused to deny himself of sensate gratification, the future he had refused to wait for had come, and this was it. The emptiness an ever-present specter, howling as his spirit gnawed on the rotting meat of bad liaisons, never able to satiate itself. He picked up the book one more time. Inside he knew that he would find a treasure map to life, he'd heard it preached and sung, he'd even memorized some (that he'd also purposefully forgotten.) He was more enamored now with death than he was with life. Old and tired at forty-nine, this time he threw The Book in the trash...right on top of the bottle as he reached for another one. His children would never know him. His women would never bring him pleasure. He would live eternally, a sacrifice to the lust of his flesh. One life crucified of its own volition upon a cross of self deception.
The Living Word stood yearning to be heard.
His great heart filled with love,
He waited and
***************From Window Three********
The store was filled with games and toys he already had at home. His parents didn't understand how important this game was though...a celestial title and everyone was playing. His X-Box was new, and he wanted the game too. Casually he slipped the disc out of the case and looked it over; a scratched one would be no good. Pretending to drop it he bent to catch it and exchanged it for the empty disc he had in his other hand. Handing the case back to the clerk with a smug smile, he turned and walked away.
Practice makes perfect and he had been practicing. His friends would think him a hero...Halo for free. Just before he left the store a small voice inside reminded him of his parent's admonition that "anything worth having is worth working for." "They'd tell me 'no' even if I had the money to buy it," he thought. "It's only a used game, and the store has a lot of them." He would probably never be caught and once the game was in his house, his parents would most likely never ask him about it.
In realms unseen, unholy snickers of glee bounced off the pages of eternity on which his name was written. Marked by his choice but not removed from His choice, the boy's struggle had begun.
"Bow down and worship me," the fallen one adjured in malicious glee.
He counted the cost of this one small theft, stretched out His arms and
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