Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: SWEET HOUR OF PRAYER (don’t write about the song) (04/30/15)
-
TITLE: Rising and Shining | Previous Challenge Entry
By Marlene Bonney
05/02/15 -
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES
“Oh, I give up,” already thinking ahead to her school day, “first things first!” rushing to the green and yellow tiled bathroom just a few steps away.
Marcella’s brothers were asleep upstairs and would remain that way until she nagged them awake minutes before school started. Mother would arise and need the bathroom medicine cabinet florescent light bulbs to “put on her face” and style her hair before departing for work. (At fourteen, Marcella did not yet use make-up, but she DID take longer taming her naturally curly, brown hair than she used to.)
Before that, or anything else, though, she settled onto the living room reupholstered green tweed davenport with her Bible, turning on the floor lamp beside her. How she cherished this daily peaceful time with God;
before anyone else brought discord or havoc into her world;
before Mother would start up the percolating coffeepot on the electric stove back burner, infusing the house with the awful aroma of coffee; (Marcella hated the smell of coffee, and was never tempted to taste it. The reigning psychologist inside her head diagnosed this distaste as a direct rebellion to Mother “dolling up” and leaving for her job as a company switchboard operator, abandoning her dubious role as a caring parent and transferring it to a series of babysitters and housekeepers)
before her squabbling brothers made a mess of the kitchen, clanking their blue Corelle cereal bowls with the tarnished everyday silverware and leaving spills, open drawers and toaster crumbs all over the place;
and before facing the junior high school’s crowded halls, teeming with—oftentimes obnoxious—students, banging metal lockers, shouts and loud fragmented conversations between kids with whom she had nothing in common.
Here, though, at 6:00 in the morning, Marcella reveled in the sheltering of her Father’s arms as she poured out her heart to Him. She could not imagine life without Jesus in her heart; it would be like steering a ship without a rudder or guiding a sailboat without a mast. He patiently listened to her innermost longings, things she could not even share with her closest girlfriend.
Marcella confessed bad thoughts, and asked God for perseverance to live in this house as the only Christian, her faith-filled Dad in a care home recovering from a long illness.
She prayed for a boyfriend, another Believer, who would cherish her and give her attention.
She prayed that her mother and brothers would become Christians, that she would have courage and wisdom to discern truth from lies.
She shared details of the day before and pleaded for help with her studies. Although she did all the required homework, Marcella still struggled with the mysteries of Algebra and Geometry, but Geography was the worst, as foreign to her as eyesight to a blind man. If she hadn’t had the gift of memorization—often without understanding their concepts—her grades in these weak subjects would have ended in failure. Conversely, she excelled in English, Spelling, Grammar, Literature, Writing, and Home Economics, her grade point average saviors.
Marcella told God her fears, like how afraid she was when the popular kids made fun of her or how frightened she was when teachers called on her for answers in classes, in front of all those staring eyes of fellow students. It didn’t take much for her cheeks to flame into a pinkish red, making her feel like she had turned into Moses’ burning bush.
In sharing and confessing and telling the desires of her innermost being, Jesus became her best friend. Oftentimes, her prayers were answered the way she expected; other times, God seemed as silent as a statue. Marcella learned that could mean, ‘No, this will not be good for you,’ or ‘No, the time is not yet right for this.’ She pictured Jesus, seated at God’s right hand and pleading with Him for her. She knew His Holy Spirit filled her, realizing over time that He was always there even if she did not FEEL His presence, claiming the facts declared in the Scriptures.
Later, as her mother began stirring, Marcella reluctantly closed her Bible, ending the prayer time, arising and squaring her shoulders; a solider preparing for battle, armed with the knowledge of God’s protection.
_______________________________________________
NON-FICTION
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
God bless~