Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Love and Grace (09/11/14)
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TITLE: DisGrace | Previous Challenge Entry
By Bea Edwards
09/18/14 -
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Am I supposed to like this? My little six-year-old spirit cried. He is my father- Dear God...
Oh why does he wake me in the night to watch adult “cartoons” with him and make me sit on his lap in all those bumpy, uncomfortable positions?
Those memories led to an endless progression of questions which formed my opinion of who I was perceived to be in the world-an object to gratify men. All men. Any man. It didn’t matter whether they were my dad, my uncles, the pre-pubescent boys in junior high school, almost the entire varsity football team, or the endless evolution of men in bars, and then men on street corners and in cars.
“Gracie shhh! Wake up.”
“Gracie, come give me some sugar.”
“Gracie rub right there.”
“Gracie it’s our secret.”
I don’t remember much of anything else men said to me until that one day he approached me and asked me if I knew Jesus.
“Jesus H Christ,” I responded. Phhh, yeah, sure, I know him…
Day after day, he approached me, never asking anything of me except if I would take a little leather-bound book from his hands.
One day I took the book and asked him for a few bucks.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes” I lied, not hungry for food, I needed a fix. Once again in position on the corner, I tucked the little book away in my back pocket. He would find me almost every day and ask if there was anything I needed. He told me there was One who could satisfy all my cravings. Again and again I walked away.
It was a sweltering day when I opened the little book in the shade of the alley wall. The oppressive breeze ruffled the delicate pages open to these unfamiliar words, “In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.” *
What is propitiation? I pondered. Curiosity awakened by this unusual word, I sought out the one who had given me the book.
“Hey you,” I bellowed, seeing him walk out from the street mission later that afternoon.
“What do you need Grace?” He asked, as he walked across the littered intersection. “I won’t give you any more money but--”
I interrupted and asked him what that bizarre word meant.
“Come on, let’s walk.” He explained about a love unfathomable, a Father whom I could trust.
“I don’t know your name.” I choked out the words just before I ran off so he couldn’t see the tears beginning to spill onto my cheeks.
“Ben,” I heard him call, and then I couldn’t see anything anymore through the flood blinding my eyes
.
Collapsing next to a Pepsi machine in a motel breezeway, I sobbed until the tears which soaked my dress had dried on my cheeks, and eventually on the thin gauze which barely covered my breasts. Curled as best I could into a comfortable position, I fell asleep next to the humming lullaby of the comfortless machine.
The officer found me there curved into a fetal ball with the hotel manager scowling over his shoulder.
“I told the whore if she ever set foot on this property again I’d have her arrested,” the manager vehemently spat.
At that moment, Ben shouldered his way through the growing crowd and asked the officer and manager if he could have a word. After a few assurances, Ben gave several bills to the manager, and then helped me to my feet.
As we made our way back to the mission and into the sparsely furnished sleeping quarters, I fought back tears as Ben led me to a bed. He had paid for my services after all…
His gentle hand on my shoulder stopped me as I began to tearfully undress.
“You rest. I’m going to get you something to eat.” Looking me in the eye, he promised I would be safe here and locked the door on his way out.
‘Perfect love casts out fear’** was the last thing I saw, beautifully scripted on a small plague swaying on the door, before dropping to my knees.
****
“Grace, Grace.” His voice cut through the fog. “Wake up honey; you’ve been having a nightmare.”
“Oh thank you God,” I whispered as I held my husband, Ben, tight.
*1John 4:10 ESV
**1John 4:18 ESV
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You did an outstanding job with this one. I hope the judges take notice of it. This should do really well.
Blessings, Lynn
After thinking about it some, I'm not sure if the Dear God works since she is thinking as a little girl who had yet come to know Jesus.
Other than that, you did a marvelous job of handling a painful and difficult topic; you handled it with compassion and love. Your take on the topic felt out of the box, but still on topic. I think you need to enter on a regular basis because you have wonderful ideas and have messages that too many people can relate to in this crazy world. Excellent writing.
Truly brilliant.
Well done.
God bless~
Many great articles come and go, and many I cannot even remember what they were about, but this will be ingrained in my mind for years to come.
Great writing....
Beautiful in every way.
Your MC was believable, which is not easy with this type of character. Most of the time a piece like this comes off as either preachy or patronizing...this was neither.
It was raw and visceral. I felt a know in my gut at the thought of her father and her subsequent life.
I don't know what else to say, other than this is a fantastic piece of writing and storytelling no matter what level.
Thanks for sharing.
Loved the healing at the close.
Great writing
Wonderfully written. Great work!
God bless~
Excellence is writing is what this is. Good gravy!