Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Writing (01/11/07)
TITLE: THE FLAME FOR WRITING
By Eureka F. Collins
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I am tired and sleepy, but must get started on the article. I pray for God to open up the windows of Heaven and pour into my cup – a blessing of thoughts. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. “Who could this be? It is nearly 1:15 a.m.,” I stated.
I look through the peephole and there stood a shivering elderly lady. “Yes, Ma’am, is there anything I can help you with,” I shouted through the door.
“My dear, it is cold out here and I don’t have anywhere to rest for the night. I have been walking all night and I am tired and cannot walk any more,” she exclaimed.
I said a prayer and let her in. “Thank you my dear! Thank you!” she softly remarked as she entered.
“So what’s your name?” I asked.
“People call me Angee,” she replied. “My real name is Ange Lofgod.”
“Well Ms. Angee, I am Reka. Please, sit here on the couch, while I get you a blanket and pillow.” I returned to the living room with the blanket and pillow in hand; and informed Ms. Angee that I was attempting to write an article about writing. She replied, “The length of an article, my dear, is determined by two considerations: the scope of the subject and the policy of the publication for which it is intended.” She continued, “A large subject cannot be adequately treated in a brief space, nor can an important theme be disposed of satisfactorily in a few hundred words. The length of an article, in general, should be proportionate to the size and the importance of the subject.”
I was startled. “How do you know that?” I asked. “I have been around for many years. Come, have a seat here, Reka.” I sat at her foot and we discussed the art of writing.
As we conversed, Ms. Angee fell asleep. I sat for a moment in amazement over our conversation. It is now 4:30 a.m. and I am thinking of what to write. Yes, I am tired (yawning) and sleepy. I will lay my head down and think…
Thump! What was that? It must be the newspaper carrier throwing the morning paper. I guess I will read it and may get my creative juices flowing for the article on writing.
"Good morning, Reka," said The Voice. "Who are you? Why can’t I see you? Who are all these people? and Where am I?
“My beloved child, this is Heaven. Over there is Ms. Angee – better known in Heaven as Angel of God (Ange Lofgod),” The Voice stated. “Whenever I desire someone to write anything, I find it best to think first what I am going to say and then speak to the heart."
“God, it is You! Have I died?” “Yes, it is I. No, you are not dead. I must show you something. Look down over the earth at all those I have writing. It is for the blessing of many,” God said.
“Wow! I see millions. I see praises coming up by the seconds. Why are there so many flames?” I humbly asked.
He said, “The human heart writes with an actual finger of flame, is the startling spectacle that has been witnessed by you. It is literally a fact that the spiritual recording of the heart's action by My searching it in the form of a tiny blaze, appears to have been made a practicable method of determining the condition of the heart and a mark of My dwelling place.”
“I need a conduit to communicate to those in need on earth. Write from your heart, My dwelling place. Do not worry about what to write, just write. I will keep the fire burning. Again, I say – Write! You must return now.”
I lift my head from the table, it is 4:31 a.m. I am in my house on this dark, cold and sleepless morning. I grab my laptop with a fiery heart to produce a piece on writing.
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