Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Enter (02/27/06)
-
TITLE: Patiently Persistant | Previous Challenge Entry
By Joyce Sykes
03/05/06 -
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Throughout the years, he had watched with great care this little place. Long before the house was even built, he had imagined a little yet beautiful home occupying this property. The area was perfect for it. Various shade trees growing close by offered just the right amount of shade. On quiet days, a babbling brook could be heard as it flowed near the back of the property.
Then one day, construction began and the pretty little home was quickly built. Just a bit later, a small white picket fence was placed around the front yard with flowers of every shade of the rainbow gleaming on bright sunny days. At first, it had signs of being cared for deeply.
Even then, he had tried several times to meet the owner. He would stand knocking softly at the door, not wanting to disturb the seemingly peaceful spot. On numerous occasions, the curtain fluttered as the property-owner peeked out to catch a glimpse of the visitor. But the owner never cracked the door to inquire who was there.
When he heard cries of sorrow, he again attempted to make his acquaintance with the homeowner. But the muffled voice insisted he leave. So with great sadness, he walked away time and time again.
The home fell in disrepair through the years. At first it was just little things. The lawn became overgrown time and time again and was slowly replaced by hideous weeds, which overtook the yard and the beautiful rainbow blossoms. The picket fence was now an ugly, yellow, peeling paint with many of its teeth totally missing or broken off. Several windows were shattered with bits of broken glass laying on the window seal as if hanging on for dear life. Shutters were missing or hanging at precarious angles with their support broken or missing. The once white home was now gray and peeling with years of exposure to the weather elements. Even the front door was scratched and scarred by careless entries through the doorway carrying excess baggage.
As he stood watching the site, he let his imagination roam with the possibilities. He could see gatherings of friends for picnics. Laughter, songs and times of fellowship would be so much fun in the shade. Sounds of joy could once more ring from the windows, if only…
Breathing a quick prayer, “Father, let today be the day. Let the need for help be seen before it’s too late. I want to help so much, but I know I can’t force my way into the home, Father. Soften this heart”
With each step forward, he breathed more prayers of concern and love for this little place. After crossing the overgrown yard, he mounted the steps being careful not to tread on the broken ones. Taking another deep breath, he lifted his scarred hand, and knocked.
This time he heard slow steps coming towards the door. A small, battered hand pulled the dirty curtain aside. Eyes holding so much grief and sorrow gazed at the man standing on the outside. Amazement showed that he had returned, especially after all the times he had been ignored or told to leave.
As the curtain fluttered back into place, for the first time the rusted stubborn lock was being turned. It seemed to take eons for the door knob to actually start revolving. But he was patient. He had waited this long, a little longer would not matter. Gradually, with the door creaking and groaning, protesting its very movement, the owner peeked around the doorframe. A questioning look was etched deep in the tear stained eyes.
“I have come to help. This little place has so much potential.”
“What can you do? It’s too late. No one cares. Everything’s a mess; I don’t even know where to start.” Tears flowed down the dismal cheek.
“But, my Father has taught me everything I need to make this place right again. Won’t you let me come in and share with you? It won’t cost you anything. It’s a free gift from my Father.”
The slow nod was all he needed. With one final step, he crosses the threshold. At last, he would be able to help another one. With a smile on his face, he breaths a quick prayer of thanks to his Father and hears in his spirit. “Well done, My Son.”
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.