Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Click (04/18/13)
TITLE: No Need for Light Switches in God’s Presence
By Emily Ritter
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We had not surpassed the first stage of friendshipâ€”polite reserveâ€”and even though I knew we would likely never enter stage twoâ€”gentle jokingâ€”and certainly not stage threeâ€”full disclosureâ€”I charged into uninvited territory, fully disclosing every detail about the complex dating scenario I had experienced three years earlier. Occasionally she would look down as if to study a graph, but the corners of her mouth curved up into a secret smile. She silently mocked the awkward forcefulness of my interaction, but it didnâ€™t deter me. I had a somewhat willing audience, and more words than my mind could contain.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Shaunta gracefully coming toward the desk to start her shift. Wherever she walked, she seemed to pull an invisible veil off a drab office atmosphere and replace it with radiating sunlight. Even before she got to the desk I began to smile and gaze her direction. She didnâ€™t have to tell me that she knew the living God, his presence moved through her in such a thick way, it made me feel like I was gently sinking beneath warm clear water with my eyes open, and I could still breathe.
I continued to squat in Shauntaâ€™s seat and annoy Rachel for the next fifteen minutes. I knew Shaunta didnâ€™t mind sitting in the corner. Suddenly, we lost power. The first feeling I experienced was relief because I had gotten away with siting at the front desk for another afternoon, without being spotted by our wicked advisor. But in the darkness, my second inclination was to gravitate toward Shaunta. Even though she was not an electrical engineer, and it didnâ€™t seem likely that she had been trained any more than I had in emergency procedures, I thought she must be equipped to navigate darkness.
â€śClick on the light! Click on the light!â€ť I said, spouting nervous nonsense Shauntaâ€™s direction. â€śHush honey,â€ť she said, calmly. â€śGod knows the way. â€ś
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