Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: birthday (05/23/05)
TITLE: Eighty Years
By Carl Quilitzsch III
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His fork scooped up a bite of egg, but it never reached his lips. Maybe some ketchup would enhance the meal. He strolled to the refrigerator and a thought came to his mind. Was he really going to be eighty years old the next day? Eighty years. He felt the same as when he was seventy, which felt much like sixty, which felt like fifty, which felt . . . All kinds of memories flooded his head Ė memories of childhood summers, adolescent romances, mid-life crises. I must be old, Iím reminiscing, for crying out loud. He chuckled to himself as he picked the red bottle from the fridge door and headed back to the table.
The thoughts of days gone by walked through his brain arm-in-arm with questions of the future. How many more bacon-and-egg breakfasts was he going to eat on this Earth? What would he do when he finally left the terrestrial sphere? How would God welcome him into Heaven? He abruptly stopped squeezing the ketchup and began to moan. I have not done enough. He held his face in his hands and continued to weep. Oh, God, my Father! I have been your child for so many years, but I have not been sharing Your love like I must! I do not give the Gospel to those I should; I do not read your Word like I need to. Forgive my slothfulness, oh, Lord.
Peace suddenly came over him like a wool blanket on a cold winter night. His heart was light, and his soul was elated. His body was slumped over his eggs, but his spirit was staring at Jesus. The most lovely and awesome spectacle he had ever seen was welcoming him home. Eighty years did not seem so long after all.
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