Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of "It's No Use Crying over Spilt Milk" (without using the actual phrase or literal exampl (02/07/08)
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TITLE: The Journey | Previous Challenge Entry
By Beth Fiedler
02/14/08 -
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He held me spell bound. His eyes gazed into mine almost-what’s the word? Supernaturally. There was such familiarity. How could he know me so well and not know me at all? The truth was, he didn’t. He couldn’t. I guess the mind is a very powerful thing. It takes us on journeys that in person, we already know we should not take. At these times, I have often felt invisible. As if I did not exist.
To me, this journey was already spinning out of control. As swift as the pavement underfoot when riding a motorcycle-it all came too fast. Items in the distance first moved quickly towards me and then away painfully slow. Why do we see the past in slow motion when the future is a blur? Huh. Or, was I barley moving? A mere spectator presented with many options while I discovered that I was unable to grasp them. I was not even sure if I was supposed to try. The answer was not forthcoming as the immediate urgency on this path went beyond these trivial questions as I could no longer see the road.
What had brought me here? When did I fall in love with him? I remember it was from a distance. How could I believe that I loved someone that I did not even know? We barely said two words in two years of bible studies and casual ‘get togethers’ with some mutual friends. Even marriage-his, my move away from those bible studies and a separation from the church, I had not forgotten what I thought, hoped, was mine.
But for many years, I unknowingly kept the flicker of hope ignited only to continue to deceive myself. I loved him. But he was not mine to love. I worshipped him. But he was not mine to worship. Now, I was quiet. Still. Perhaps only too exhausted to move. No mad rush underfoot or the thrill of my hair being swept back in the wind. I became very aware that I could not advance on that road, on any road, any further.
I was blinded to the path before me. Quickly, painfully catching up to me though, I could feel the rush of wind at my back. A map of memories, a string of things left behind. I had sought love on so many roads. I climbed mountains and crossed streams. Built and burned bridges. Walked miles of tracks alone. Looked up to the sky many times to see the faint silhouette of aircraft and envied their destinations. Perhaps, I thought, I am lost. No, not lost. It seemed that I had taken every path but the one that was mine to take.
From the past, what had me spellbound, what had really held my gaze I now have eyes to see. The love I sought was not in a man, a friend, a thing, or a path that I could walk or even find on my own.
Sometimes even now at my age, I go to church or a bible study and catch a glimpse of a new face. He or she gazes at me with some sense of familiarity. I smile. Not at them, but from the expectations that I have from the work that has begun in them.
As I continue on this journey, it appears that I am still wandering. I cannot see the path before me. I am overwhelmed with His constant presence-spellbound supernaturally. He is every where. He even comes to them in grace through my broken vessel as He has blessed others before me. But at His feet, I understand this is as it should be. “I am not my own”. (personalized I Cor. 6:19, NIV.) Him in me is a glimpse of what they seek. Thank God they do not see me. I pray, “Lord, light their path. Make it clear. Spare them from wandering. Let them know what they see in me is You calling them home.” My mind occupied with prayer, they probably thought that they were invisible.
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