Home Read What's New Join
My Account Login

Read Our Devotional             2016 Opportunities to be Published             Detailed Navigation

The HOME for Christian writers! The Home for Christian Writers!
The Official Writing Challenge



how it works
submission rules
guidelines for
choosing a level


submit your entry
read current entries
read past entries
challenge winners

Our Daily Devotional HERE
Place it on your site or
receive it daily by email.



how it works   Submit

Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Father (as in paternal parent, not God) (04/10/08)

TITLE: Dad and me
By Aaron Morrow


I slowly lifted myself to a sitting position on the black asphalt, and hugged my legs tightly to my chest. As my skin stretched over my wounded knee another wave of pain knifed through me. It was the third time just this morning that I had suffered an intimate encounter with failure. I found that the reservoir of tears that I had once thought emptied from my two previous falls, were freshly filled to overflowing as they washed over my cheeks.

I was a mess, I knew it and I was sure that all of the neighbor kids knew it too. I imagined that I could hear them laughing at me, chiding me for failing at such a simple task. I pressed my forehead into the bend in my arm and cried out “Daa-ad!”

I felt his arms encircle me, one against my back and another arm beneath my gravel laced knees. I relaxed slightly so that he could cradle me and then flinched a little at the thought of what the neighbor kids would be saying now, especially Darik, who is nine and “oh-so-successful” at whatever I fail miserably attempting.

My dad sensed my reaction, but just held me closer as he lifted me. So there I was, a crumpled mess of scraped limbs being cradled by my dad in the middle of the street in plain sight of all of my “oh-so-successful” neighbors. Another painful reminder of my failure slashed through me as I resigned myself to the humiliation, buried my face in my dad’s shirt, and let the tears flow.

And at that moment of surrender, every other person and every other care in the universe faded and it was just my dad and me.

When is the last time that you experienced that moment when all else faded from view and it was just God and you holding each other closely?

As Christians, we speak to God’s sovereignty over all creation by calling him “King”; we speak to God’s expansiveness and infinitude by calling him “Holy”; we speak to God’s perfect judgment over the order he installed by calling him “Just”.

But in that moment that we bury our face into his shoulder, and in that moment that he holds us closer whispering words of comfort and encouragement into our lives, we call him “Father”, “Abba”, “Daddy”.

So often, in the midst of our trials and our failures, we relegate God in our lives to the stolid attribute of “Living”, as though, like our neighbors, he stands at the living room window and observes our folly, shaking his head at our foibles and the messes we make of our lives. We sense that He is there in heaven, watching and noting our mistakes, compounding our humiliation by his witness.

Still, the truth that we are the children of the Living God is just a tiny note in the margins of the epic sonnet that proclaims God as our loving Father; a sonnet which, even at the apex of its magnificence, can barely begin to explore the depth of His love and compassionate engagement in every moment of our lives.

Into our live he is writing a sonnet of love so great that He sacrificed the only thing in all of creation that He treasured, so that through that sacrifice He could cross the expanse that separated us, gather us to Him, and calm our shaking as we sob into His shoulder.

When, at last, my tears had ceased flowing and my pain had retreated to memory, my dad gently lowered me to the to the ground while holding tightly to my shoulders so that I could stand. He reached down and grabbed the handlebars of the twisted wreckage of my latest failure and righted the bicycle.

“Wow, look how far you came this time!” he said. “Try again and let’s see if you can ride all the way around the cul-de-sac, and back again!”

I looked at my bike, and then I looked down at my scraped knee, and then I looked up into the eyes of my daddy. And I found the courage to try again.

And my dad said, “I’ll be right here.”

And He is.

The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE

JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.

This article has been read 786 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Leticia Caroccio04/17/08
Interesting. I felt your physical and emotional pain in your "failure". Good description. I like your expression, "gravel laced knees". I enjoyed this one.
Joanne Sher 04/17/08
Excellent descriptions and word pictures. Wonderful, wonderful message. I'm not positive this is considered entirely on topic (a bit iffy as to who the "main focus" is), but it is a VERY strong piece nonetheless.
Corinne Smelker 04/18/08
In my opinion you should be bumped right up to Advanced! This was an excellent piece of writing. Your imagery and descriptions are strong, and your sense of pacing wonderful.
Beckie Stewart04/18/08
This is good. You are an excellent writer.
Shayne Catoe04/18/08
This story is very three dimensional. I sensed the characterization, emotion, story line, and setting thoroughly. It was masterfully woven together.

I agree that it may of leaned a little off topic, but I enjoyed the spiritual parallel. It is present in all of our relationships with our fathers.

Wonderful writing. Keep it up.
Lyn Churchyard04/19/08
Very well written. I particularly liked the line "And at that moment of surrender, every other person and every other care in the universe faded and it was just my dad and me." Well done.

mary wolf04/19/08
Thank you for talking about the "Father I know". He picks up up when It hurts the most.
Glynis Becker04/21/08
I loved the parallel between the earthly and heavenly fathers and the descriptions are wonderful. Keep up the great work!
Jan Ackerson 04/21/08
This is exactly the way a devotional should be written--starting out like fiction, with a great lesson tucked into the middle, then back to the story. Beautifully done.
Marlene Austin04/23/08
Many truths espoused here. Nice job. :)
Joshua Janoski04/23/08
Aaron, you did a wonderful job with your first challenge entry.

It is true that you wrote about your heavenly father instead of a paternal parent (which might be slightly off topic), but I am so glad that you went with what was on your heart. Your writing talent is evident in this piece, and I look forward to seeing many more challenge entries from you in the coming weeks.

Thank you for sharing this beautiful story. :)
Sara Harricharan 04/23/08
This could be a devotional. I love the parallel between earthly father and heavenly father. It's great, I especially love how you captured the feelings of being held, scared and then glad to be just Dad and me. Great job. ^_^
Terry Walker04/24/08
Congrats Aaron on placing 2nd this week, awesome writing of a awesome story. Keep it up!
Tessy Fuller04/24/08
Congrats on 2nd place. I really enjoyed this. It had a great message of how to deal with our failures.
Sheri Gordon04/24/08
Congratulations on your 2nd place. This is a great devotional--wonderful word pictures. Very good writing.
Jae Blakney04/25/08
Aaron, in my personal opinion, this one is better than the first-place winner. It sings!
Laury Hubrich 04/30/08
Oh Aaron, I loved this. I'm so glad your comment on my crazy entry stuck out (like a sore thumb:) so that I was curious enough to check out your profile and to read this prize-winner. Wow! It made me cry. I love my Daddy that much, yes I do. He picks me up everytime and He sets me straight again. Love this. Oh so good! So good.