What Myrtle Mae Wants the Grandkids to Know | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: What Myrtle Mae Wants the Grandkids to Know | Previous Challenge Entry
By
12/07/17
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES

Life is short! I'm thinking, because of my age, my life seems briefer when compared to my grandkids’. That's somewhat comforting in an odd way, as I find the world is chock full of nuts. Menacingly, the skeletons in my closets rattle loudly, something I don’t want my grandkids to know!

In hundreds of tantalizing, glittery and madcap ways, I’ve recklessly shortened my life. Foolhardily, ignoring advice and commands from the Bible, along the way, I learned to recognize the world for what it is. Little that the world spins off surprises me. What does surprise me; and deeply saddens me, is my impulsive susceptibility to conformity.

For every bird, there is an Opie Taylor with a slingshot! For every placekicker, there is a Lucy to pull the ball away! "For every “yes” there are a thousand “no’s.”" I find being a functional adult in a world of chaos a challenge. Amalgamating differing opinions with an overabundance of misinformation, making sound judgments is challenging. I wish my grandkids didn’t have to know this.

I had to change – to put my faith in something besides myself. The world had me believing that nothing changes until I put forth the effort to make changes happen, not by relying on a power mightier than me. It says hard work and forceful will is required to modify circumstances. My nature is to sit idly by and wait for things to happen. I wanted respect. I desired to be treated with kindness, yet did not acknowledge I had to “give” to “get” in return. Why was I always right and everybody else wrong? Every action has a consequence. I ignored this, yet was surprised when the result was not satisfactory.

Maybe that’s why I medicated myself. The messages of negativity bombarding and filling my head allowed me an excuse to self-medicate. I moped around with a blank, soulless stare, waiting sullenly for the end of my world to consume me. I don’t want my grandkids to know this about me!

I want to welcome the grandkids into my Savior’s circle. Is it too much to ask? Can they learn what I denied myself? The answers belong to God. Some say that God gives every bird his worm, but he does not throw it into the nest.

I convinced myself that I could model my world into whatever my muse desired. I devoted myself to avoiding “bad” things and embracing “good” things. Nonetheless, without the Holy Spirit, I was firmly entrenched in the world’s seductive clutch, stuck on a playground swing between good and bad. The constant rubbing back and forth of this swing caused friction. The friction’s heat reminded me of my final destination. I did not relish the friction, eventually, discovering that a violin bow causes beautiful friction. And wasn’t the result of that friction, beautiful noise? Inspiration hit - a tree has to die before it can make beautiful sounds like a violin. With palpable jubilation, I emerged from my imprisoning closet of friction.

With determination, I wanted to verify I was more than an animal – destined to do more than eat, drink, and procreate. At that moment, I desired to be more than a lifeless skin when I die. Whatever goodness I had in life was to be for naught, if not for obedience to God and faith in Christ. This blessing I do want my grandkids to know!

Long ago, in my previous world of make-believe, my dreams drifted aimlessly – a world where wishes externalized. Amid the glow of a butterscotch sun, where chocolate lakes and coconut cream islands exist, I found alignment with God's ways. Lucidly, I heard the words “Grow up!” In response, I cried, “Please let me in." I yearned to walk in Jesus' footsteps.

I was, at long last, able to look past the spurious stars and stare down my skeletons. I looked directly into Heaven’s abyss and declared “I am yours.” Jesus holds me in his arms and hugs the sadness from me, draining it back to the world.

Upon the world’s ocean, I dream for my grandkids to find a floating bottle - a bottle of hope. With curiosity unleashed, they’ll open it, forever emptying their lives of self-centeredness and filling them with hope and humbleness. I pray for their young lives to be ripe with a sense of peace they will remember forever.

PREVIOUS ENTRY | NEXT ENTRY
SUBMIT YOUR ENTRY FOR THIS WEEK'S CHALLENGE

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.