Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: IRONY (10/26/23)
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TITLE: Be Careful Little Mouth What You Say | Previous Challenge Entry
By Mariane Holbrook
11/02/23 -
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"I have to work in the Post Office Saturday," I argued.
"Well, guess what, Roomie! Anyone who wants to go will be excused from any job on campus. That notice was posted on the Simpson bulletin board a few days ago", my roommate countered.
When she brought it up again the next morning, I had already decided to be on the college van heading to Boston for a Friday night church service, a street meeting on Saturday and another church service on Sunday. My roommate was ecstatic, promising it would be a life-altering event for me. Then she gave me a hug.
The Friday night service in Boston was well attended and besides the testimonies, the female students sang in duets and trios. The performance of the two girls at the piano was so good that the audience spontaneously applauded. The male members of our group sang their hymns in solos or quartets. Several teenagers responded to an invitation to make Jesus the Lord of their lives and two others promised to seek God's will regarding overseas missionary service, hopefully after attending our college in preparation for their ministries in West Africa, South America or China.
On Saturday our group had a permit to present the gospel on Beacon Hill, more specifically a street corner on Acorn Street, chosen by Architectural Digest as one of the 53 most beautiful streets in the world.
Since childhood I have bragged about my memorization skills as though they were something I had achieved through hard work rather than what I was fortunate enough to salvage from my paternal gene pool. In the van I had a captive audience so I bored them half to death by reciting poems by American writer and poet, James Whitcomb Riley.
Standing on a corner on Acorn Street, our group began singing well-known hymns and we invited passers-by to join us. Soon a circle of shoppers formed around us and respectfully listened.
According to the schedule, I was to give my testimony right after the girls' trio sang. I was scared senseless. When the trio finished, the leader of our group motioned for me to come front and center.
Clearing my throat, I began telling the listeners that I became a follower of Jesus at age 11 and that I had felt God's call to be a missionary to orphans in India. I gave a three-minute account of missionary Harriet Beardslee who once stared down a man-eating tiger near the orphanage in India where she served as director.
I brought my testimony to a close with these words: "I'm eager to graduate from college and finally board a ship bound for India. There is still much to do and I ask for your prayers. For many years I have claimed this verse as my own. Psalm 16:11 is a verse I will never forget."
But forget it I did; I drew a complete, total blank and couldn't even remember the first word. The look of panic on my face caused my group to look at each other, hoping someone would know that verse. But they didn't. And the silence was deafening.
Finally, in desperation and hoping no one would notice, I intoned, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16)
But they did notice. I heard the laughter of my college friends all the way back to the van where I buried myself under the safety of the back seat.
Nonfiction
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