Words flowed almost violently--like rapid water over jagged rocks--cleansing Candia's soul as they released their power. Conveying thoughts into the 'puter, she thought lovingly of her precocious peach-color-fine-haired nephew Tommy's growing vocabulary. Then an unexpected prayer, "I've been writing rhymes since childhood. Is there a hidden purpose in them?"
Look at the Remnant! Folks on their faces!
Generations waiting for Grace's
Truth to hone arrow's anew,
sharp with power pure and true.
The days leading to Resurrection Sunday found hearts filling with joy through hugs, games, and treasured recipes. Time had dragged somewhat for Candia, missing hours of her usual writing time. The family now traveling home in an April rain; exhausted, she slipped into comfy jammies, and away to the quiet reverie of her laptop.
Conspicuous white fields, while some sit in chairs,
stiff-necked, headily putting on airs.
"Great to be back in my familiar perch," she sighed happily, after the first rush of rhyme escaped her fingertips. Revived by hot tea steeped with leaves plucked from the spearmint plant in her budding backyard, Candia reveled in the healthy sweetness of the added stevia leaf.
Sipping silently, she continued:
Endurance, patience, faith, and Love,
pouring out from Heaven above.
"When, Lord? How? Many have said:
Salvations overdue, folks are misled!"
The rhyme seemed to write itself.
"Father, the fields! Time's a wastin'.
Should we follow our soul's inclination?
Move among man, tell what we know?
Why hesitate? Efforts seem slow."
Candia laughed at her use of "a wastin'." Cowboy slang was always trying to wind itself, like an unruly vine, through her writing, "guess that's just part of livin' in rodeo country." Sugar cookie crumbs fell into the keyboard as she bit the ear of a tasty bunny; purple icing on his belly, reading: "I heart Auntie Candi." Her niece meant so much to her, "Lovely 'tween, Kate-bug, I heart YOU most-est!" They often played the "I love you more, most, most-est" game.
"Gardened by Love's Spirit, Child,
Truth will prune doctrine's plants gone wild."
Pastor's teachings influenced this rhyme," she relaxed, thoughtfully. "Some say revival's timing is sovereign. I believe there's something for us to do. All forms of media will play a part in the final outpouring," Pastor Dave often reiterated.
"Many preaching Truths distorted, hearing not what I say.
Distinctive fields ripe for harvest, those who listen find MY way!"
Candia whispered, "What will my participation be--on behalf of outstanding fields ripe for harvest?"
"Using Spirit's tools, selfishly for YOU?
Matured through Truth, on your knees, too,
you'll stand in awe, like never before.
An outpouring of Love waits at My door."
Candia sadly thought, "Abusing or not USING spiritual gifts results in souls lost."
"Waiting to be joined by My Spirit of Grace;
meditate Jude's words, receive Love's embrace."
Laughing thankfully, "Grace like a moat surrounds me!" She felt guarded by love, remembering the Arabic meaning of her own name, "Castle of the Moat."
Candia sank into her chair. The purple violets, hand-painted on the china saucer, drew her attention to the teacup's emptiness as it rested on the desk's intricately crocheted pineapple doily. Candia recalled the phrase "Easter egg," and the meaning her nephew Austin articulated while gaming at his laptop.
"Other than eggs like the kids dyed for the holiday, Auntie Candi, do you know an Easter egg is also a hidden treasure, first used to describe a virtual object in the Atari 2600 game, 'Adventure?'"
"Hidden?" Candia replied, "interesting."
"The creator placed it so gamers could reach a concealed screen with a surprise message," he continued, "but only if they found the object or 'egg.' Hey, it would also describe the hidden Mickey's in the Disney theme parks!"
She had basked in Austin's presence. How she loved that dark-haired, brown-eyed, smiling boy.
"Spirit in you, hearts aglow;
concerned for harvest? Jesus they'll know!
Folks will see I sent My Son,
receiving Truth, they'll believe He's the One,
Who died to bring them back to Me;
To live forever, in my presence, free!"
Candia looked disdainfully at her rhyming, "I need to diligently study poetry," Suddenly she "heard" a whisper:
"There's an Easter egg in THIS rhyme.
Hidden for diligent seekers to find!
Build yourself up, obey MY voice,
Love's holy rain WILL accompany this choice."
Candia reached for the Bible next to the egg-filled basket on her desk. Refilling her cup, she thirstily turned to Jude, as she cracked an egg and supped with her fragrant tea.
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.