Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: ADORE (11/23/23)
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TITLE: Katie | Previous Challenge Entry
By Rick Allen
11/27/23 -
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Desperate to contribute, Katie hated that I was twenty-eight and she was only eleven and a half. I’d been attending seminary since my discharge from the army, and she was a brand-new Christian. When I heard the screen door slam at seven, I figured it was her. With a red rim around her mouth from a sucker, she looked ready for another round.
“I ain’t buyin‘ what you said earlier.” She threw her sneakers up on the couch. “People do good every day. Non-Christians can be as nice as a Baptist Preacher.”
I sat opposite my little Katie girl—she hated when I called her that. She was five feet in heals, bean-pole thin and sharp as a skinning knife. Since she came to the faith, she’d tried to squeeze every bit of knowledge from me and wanted in the worst way to give back. She was determined to show her older brother how grown-up she was.
“We don’t have to argue.” I touched her shoulder. She recoiled. “We can converse like two adults. Do you mind taking your shoes off my couch.”
She ignored me. “You’re dead wrong. Good don’t only come from God. All your education has scrambled your eggs. Maryanne, who I know for a fact is not a Christian, gave George Macon two whole quarters in front of the IGA last Friday. Now what do you say about that?”
I wanted to laugh. My kid sister had more spunk than a skunk in a chicken house. “What about eternity?” I slid her shoes off my cushions.
She frowned. “What about it?”
“Did Maryanne’s gift affect eternity? That boy probably blew it on candy. If Maryanne bought a meal for the poor. And if she did it to please Jesus, she’d take those treasures with her to heaven?”
Katie circled the coffee table putting eyes on me.
“Eternity, for crying out loud it’s two quarters.” She plopped down. Furrows formed on her smooth forehead. “How about when you went off to war?” She kicked her foot high in the air. “If you killed someone over there, would it be truly good, or a terrible bad thing? Answer me that.”
“You ask hard questions.” I scratched my head. “You knew I wasn’t a believer when I went to ’nam.”
She nodded. “Papa prayed hard for you every night. I guess you were a scoundrel when you were young.”
“I’m not exactly old now.” I laughed. “I didn’t shoot anyone, but for the sake of discussion let’s pretend I did.”
“Sure.”
Shadows in the room made it hard to see her expressions as they formed. I reached under the lampshade and turned the switch.
“Imagine I shot a man who wasn’t a believer. One sinner sending another sinner to eternity. No difference occurred eternally since he was headed there anyway.”
“Jimmy, what are you saying? You took the life of another human being.”
“I know but I’m talking big picture.”
Her feet stopped swinging. Her laser green eyes bored holes in my eyebrows. “What about the Soviets then? Communism and them taking over the world and all that? You helped stop it.” She smiled. “I mean, if you had actually did something while you were there.”
Katie was breathing hard. I’d squeeze her tight if she’d let me. I loved her lightning bolts, how she always dove deep, and the way she’d fight like a hurricane. Since I returned home, she was trying to position me somewhere on her shelf of important people. I knew she’d eventually find a place for me. A lot happened in the two years I was away.
“Jesus cares little for politics, Katie. In every war, Christians on both sides pray for victory. I wouldn’t fight if I didn’t believe in the cause, but if God found me on the wrong side, I don’t think he’d hold it against me.”
“Because a lot of what happens in war is not eternal?”
I closed my eyes, “Borders move, people die. Survivors go home searching for redemption. It’s complicated.”
As I looked up, the screen door slammed. The absence of sound filled the room.
My little Katie girl, what would I do without her.
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I was raised a pacifist and no longer believe that. I suggest you try writing a dialogue between a returning vet and a pacifist. I did. It was eye opening.