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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: In The Kitchen - deadline 7-19-12 @ 9:59 AM NY Time (07/12/12)
With much effort, I hauled my seemingly dead-weight body out of bed and slogged the short distance to the kitchen. My throat and mouth were studded with eraser-sized pustules, making it painful to swallow, yet I felt parched for hydration. I just wanted a drink of iced tea. Reaching into the cupboard to retrieve the powdered mix, I knocked over a bottle of molasses that was waiting to be made into my special cookies, and it went crashing down onto the linoleum. Glass and black goo spattered across the kitchen floor. I plopped down next to the mess and cried.

It was Christmas time and I was quite ill with mononucleosis. I lived by myself in the small apartment and it was very early in the morning, so had no one to call for help. Being sick and alone was hard enough, but for it to happen at Christmas made it seem even more miserable. I called out to God for comfort; for some form of acknowledgement that He heard me and was taking care of me.

As I sat with knees drawn up and my head on my arms, lyrics to a favorite song from scripture rang in my throbbing head:

But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me; my glory and the lifter up of mine head.Psalm 3:3 KJV.

I knew in my heart that God was there for me, but I longed for more tangible evidence that He cared that I felt so alone. Eventually, I was able to clean up the mess, and even made myself some tea before crawling back to bed.

That same evening, I was resting in my room when I heard the doorbell ring and heard strains of a Christmas song. “Who would be coming to see me?” I was sick and I looked and felt terrible, yet donned a robe and plodded to the door. I cautiously opened it and was shocked to see familiar faces from my church singles group. They had come the 12 miles to carol at my door! They sang two songs, prayed for my healing and handed me a plate filled with Christmas cookies before leaving for the next stop. I thanked them, and as I closed the door, thanked God for the gift of caring.

With an achy body, yet lifted spirit, I set the cookies onto the kitchen counter, remembering the earlier puddle of molasses and shattered glass on the floor. This year, I was too sick to make Christmas cookies, besides now missing the main ingredient, yet God provided, even if I could not enjoy the traditional family treat. The thoughtfulness of their loving generosity was such a gift to me, and did much to lift my head from the darkness of despair. Indeed, God is my shield, and I praised Him for providing a physical response to my cry as I sat amidst a sticky mess on the kitchen floor.
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Member Comments
Member
Date
C D Swanson 
07/20/12
Amen...Our shield, our Comforter, our Everything!

What a lovely story that speaks volumes while solidifying claims of our Sovereign God. God hears our cries and hears our praises equally.

Thank you for this story which was totally on topic and spoke to my heart.

God bless~
Jenna Dawn
07/24/12
I really enjoyed this. Your first paragraph drew me in with nice word choice and flow.

My only suggestion would be to "show" us the tears instead of simply stating that you (the MC?) cried. So show, don't tell. You could have said, "I plopped down next to the mess with tears welling in my eyes."

I love how God heard the cry of your heart (assuming this is your own story), and showed you He really did hear you by sending others to show His love and to even provide you with cookies to replace the ones you could no longer make. Just goes to show how we are instruments of His love. When we reach out to others in Jesus' name, we are sharing His love.

Thanks so much for this story!

Shann Hall-LochmannVanBennekom 
07/25/12
I love this story because it speaks volumes to the love and miracles God gives us every day. An unbeliever would just say it was a coincidence that the carolers stopped by. But you and I know better. That coincidence had quite a few details to come into fruition. First you had to catch mono. You also needed to be given thew cookie recipe and I suspect it was a tradition that was started years, if not decades ago, handed down from mother to daughter. Next, and perhaps the most amazing of all, even though you felt lousy , in order to receive God's gift, you had to drag your hurting, sick self out of a warm, comfy spot to answer the door. Coincidences? TAH!
Oh and this is just my opinion but I think plopping down and crying does paint a perfect picture and while sometimes some sentences might call for tears welling up, I suspect in the state you were in you just plain out and out cried. Sometimes, in a desire to make our descriptions more descriptive, it can be easy to fall into the trap of purple prose. But you didn't do that here at all. I really enjoyed this piece and it affirms my beliefs that life is more than a coincidence.