Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: START (02/25/16)
- TITLE: Love's Library
By Cindy Duncan
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Wordsmith was a young man when he first sat down with his favorite ink pen and started the project. “It’ll be easy writing,” he told his wife Amity. “I have the Bible to help me, and I also have my life experience. When I am finished you will be convinced that God loves us, for I will give you examples, and you will see.” He opened his new spiral notebook and began writing.
Hours later, Wordsmith shook his right hand vigorously to get the blood flowing again. He rubbed his eyes and closed his notebook for the night. “My list has become an essay,” he told his wife. “There is more to the love of God than even I thought, for I have only begun to tell of the riches of his grace.”
Weeks later, Wordsmith purchased another notebook, and he kept writing. “I believe your essay has turned into a book,” Amity commented as she watched him place his full notebook on the bookshelf, and open the new one. “You have convinced me, dear husband that God’s love is great, for why would you go to such lengths to write of an ordinary love?” That night Wordsmith bowed with Amity at the fireplace hearth as she became acquainted with the God of whom her husband wrote so diligently about, and Wordsmith was given even more material for his writing.
A year later, after thirteen hours of grueling labor, Amity gave birth to their first child. Wordsmith took one look at her, and named her Miracle. As he held little Miracle in his arms, and she grabbed hold of his finger, he became aware that his book would become a series. “I have only just started to tell of God’s love for me,” he whispered to his baby girl.
When the doctor told Wordsmith and Amity of little Miracle’s health problems, Wordsmith felt as if he had punched him in the chest. The pain in his heart was a dull constant ache, not unlike an infected tooth. Even in the midst of his pain and worry, he felt the arms of God encircle him. His little Miracle lived up to her name, and Wordsmith’s series became volumes.
Years passed, the house filled with children, and Wordsmith continued to write. He wrote of creation, redemption, and provision. He wrote of the pureness and strength of God’s unconditional love. He filled notebooks with his writings and stacked them all over the house. Through good times and bad, Wordsmith wrote. When he lost his job, but still his family was fed, he wrote. When his parents passed away, he wrote. When he did things he wasn’t proud of, and God forgave him, he wrote. When Wordsmith’s children grew up and left his home a little too quiet, he wrote.
With an empty bedroom finally available, Wordsmith installed shelves around the entire room, and dubbed the newly remodeled space his library. His son, Practical, was helping him place his many notebooks on the shelves. “Dad, you really should use a computer to write. You could store everything on it too, and save all this space. You could even print e-books. It just makes more sense.”
“I could,” agreed Wordsmith. “But then how would I see the enormity of God’s love for me? When I look at a computer, I see a machine. I can’t tell how much is written on it. But when I look at this room full of books, I am reminded of how big God’s love is.”
“Well, you’re about finished, though, right? This room won’t hold too much more.”
“Son, I have just started.”
Time marched on, as it relentlessly does, and Wordsmith became a grandpa. When Precious smiled at him for the first time, he knew that he could never finish his project in one lifetime. But he had to try, so he kept writing.
When the time was imminent for Wordsmith to pass on, his family surrounded his bed. He hadn’t spoken in two days, and the time between his breaths was ever lengthening. As his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, a look of wonder washed over them. His wife, Amity, being most familiar with the look, leaned over and asked him, “Do you see something?”
Wordsmith squeezed her hand, and whispered the final words he would speak on this earth, “I’m gonna need a bigger notebook.”
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