Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Calm (emotionally) (09/13/07)
- TITLE: Shadows on Shadows
By Sue Dent
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Shadows on shadows, the moonlight is unforgiving as I pull free from foliage that tangles, threatens to trip me up as I race on a darkened path. Familiar ground made unfamiliar by the moon’s elusion. Reflected light ofttimes misleads.
Branches and shadows of branches scratch and tear at exposed skin.
I’m not a creature of the night; it is. I can’t decipher the shadows; it does. I hear footfalls and move faster. My first mistake in a series of many. As I move at a quicker pace, I know I stand to tempt the one following. A predator is driven by the excitement of the hunt. If I run, my fate is sealed. If I wait—
No time to question.
Logic may dictate, but I must run.
A hole swallows my right foot. The ground rushes towards me but impact is a surprise. I taste blood but there’s no time to entertain the damage. Though I’ve hit face first and know my nose is broken, I’m compelled to get back up. Not one muscle is in agreement with the alternative.
Scrambling to my feet, I wonder. How far have I run? A few yards? A mile?
A lifetime if I get away.
It can curse with a bite. It will curse if I wait.
I don’t plan on waiting.
Breaths come in hot gasp. I breathe in—my lungs fight me. I have to rest or else they’ll give out. I find a tree and fall back against it.
My brain struggles to determine how long is long enough. I’m smart enough to know I haven’t outrun the danger despite the eerie calm around me.
A noise to my left startles. I race off again.
The short rest didn’t help. My body needs more.
My legs betray me.
I go down.
“No,” my mind screams—my voice cries out.
My legs, now useless, dead weight, hamper my movement. I try to crawl. I tear at the ground to pull myself forward.
Sweat mingles with dirt. Terrified tears cut a path through the mire.
It’s coming for me.
“Oh, God!” I pray.
I prepare for the battle that I’ll surely loose. How can a man fight if he can’t even stand? If he can barely breath?
“Oh, God please!”
My power is made perfect in weakness.
What was that? Who said that? I look and see no one.
But I feel—I feel, calm.
“Yes,” I manage before darkness is complete.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10
"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. 10That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
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