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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Start (01/16/06)

TITLE: Beginnings
By Sharon Singley


A silent darkness shrouded the atmosphere. From somewhere in the back of time a low, quiet Voice interrupted the stillness. Light burst forth from the Voice, piercing through the darkness. Violet lights, amber lights, emerald lights, exploding in the heavens. The Word leapt playfully, giving birth to existence with each breath. His feet danced in rhythm with the newborn luminescence. The universe laughed in exultation!

In that hour, the start of life.

With eternal Love the Creator called forth. With a longing for intimacy His Hands reached down to fashion, shape, caress the particles of dust. He knelt down and breathed softly on and through the terra-child that lay silently before Him, bestowing upon His creation the right to be called a son of the Everlasting.

On that new day the Father beheld His children. The children beheld their father. On that new day, the children betrayed their Father.

In that hour, the start of death.

The sticky, sweet crimson flowed freely down the face of the Lamb. Down His face, His body, into the streets below. Silently He withstood the beatings, the taunting, the abuse exacted upon Him from the ones He had so Loved. His parched throat ached with thirst. His trembling Hands, the Hands that had formed the universe, the Hands that had healed the sick of heart, now were stretched open, held cruelly to the rough-hewn wood by their hatred and by His love.

He fought for every breath. Excruciating pain radiating through every fiber of His battered and bloody form. They hurled obscenities and insults. He whispered forgiveness. The sky darkened, the thunder roared, the Father wept, the angels bowed, the Troubadour died.

On the third day, grief clung to them as thickly as the morning dew. They had gone to anoint the One whom their souls had loved. It was to be a day of sorrows, a day of endings, a day void of life. But as they turned away from the empty tomb, they knew that yet once more, behold, He hath made all things new!

In that hour…

To all who believe…

The start of life eternal.

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This article has been read 699 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Marilyn Schnepp 01/23/06
Immensely moving and so beautifully done with such a talented weaving of words! I loved it, and feel compelled to read it again and again! A lovely piece of art that pierces deep into the inner soul of Man. Kudos!
Birdie Courtright01/23/06
Beautiful imagery, I was captivated by it all!
Jan Ackerson 01/24/06
Very lyrical, almost poetic. Thanks so much.
Phyllis Inniss 01/25/06
Beautiful, poetic, artistic.
Alexandra Wilkin01/26/06
Like an old masters canvass - vibrant, startling, beautiful.
God bless.
Audrey Shockley01/27/06
WOW -- That is one word I would use to express your writing. The illustrative words helped me picture everything to feel the emotion you were portraying.
Lynda Schultz 01/27/06
Well done, though I would question your use of the word 'Troubadour' to describe Christ. According to Webster, a troubadour is "a class of lyric poets and poet-musicians often of the knightly rank…whose major theme was courty love". I can see the point, but there probably is a more accurate word .
Sharon Singley01/28/06
actually Max Lucado referred to Jesus as a troubador in one of his books...