Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: HOPE (10/29/20)
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TITLE: A Fading Light | Previous Challenge Entry
By Samuel Kane
11/05/20 -
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He’d grown up so dedicated to his faith, passionate about his saviour. He was never the best speaker but he’d heard that God can use even the weakest for his purposes. He’d heard of this nation, Alaria, in the news. The people lived in poverty as their government sucked every bit of life out of them. They needed Christ’s love and he was the one who would take it to them.
When he arrived, he realised just how wrong he had been. It was far worse than he’d expected. A suffocating darkness covered this land gripped by abject poverty and paralysing terror.
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”
Those words kept him going through that time as his feet stumbled through the gloomy streets. He gazed through the chilling twilight. A group of men, shadows in the darkness, stalked with a self-imposed authority. He heard a brief scream and then… nothing. It was then that he realised what was missing. The streets were ill-kept but nobody populated them. There were no sleeping bags on the pavements, no beggar bowls. A sickening weight fell upon his stomach.
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
Progress was initially slow. This so-called government was little more than a pack of glorified mobsters. Those who were more willing to talk only talked praise. Indoctrinated from a young age, they blamed their problems on the devilish leaders of his home-nation. Those who kept silent did so to save their own hides. They were the ones most needing of Christ’s love but they dare not be seen scheming with the enemy.
The beating continues. He lies there, little more than a mangled cadaver, in a pool of his own blood. Would he let them win? Would he let them break his spirit?
Progress was initially slow. It slowed further once the money stopped coming in. Clearly, many of his brothers back home had grown disinterested. Was there no hope for this city?
“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.”
It was never that simple. He had to maintain a level of secrecy to protect those around him, the potential converts. Unfortunately, that was not enough. It was not long before the shadows in the darkness stalked him through the street.
He tried use his “trial” to declare the truth of the gospel. Nobody seemed to care.
The prison guards taunted him. He had stayed strong, speaking God’s truth. Like the Stephen before the Sanhedrin, his words only seemed to exacerbate the situation.
The hand falls against his raw face once more. The flood waters rise around his head. He had followed Christ onto the raging sea. Look at where it had gotten him.
The beating stops. With his bleary vision, he sees his attackers march out of the room, satisfied, leaving him for dead. The flood waters rise above his face.
He hears a soft voice in his ear. Too weak to open his eyes he strains to listen.
“Rest well, brother. Your trial brought me conviction. You have reignited my faith.”
He hears voices from the hallway.
Quiet footsteps scamper away.
Perhaps there is hope.
A firm, loving hand grabs him by the wrist and pulls him up through the waters. Exhausted he opens his eyes to see the dark, empty room around him. The chair still lies, splintered, beneath him. He is weak but alive. Perhaps one day, he would get out of here. Perhaps one day he would be able to speak Christ’s love once more.
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