Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: WEAK (07/22/21)
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TITLE: Into the Arena | Previous Challenge Entry
By
07/28/21 -
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She’d charged into battle—as usual—even after promising to run a better race. Yet, in their first clash, Dubney had neatly unhorsed her and left her gasping for breath, blinking up into leering enemy faces. By nightfall, nobody calling themselves decent would follow a one-time wild child. Worse, if she didn’t concede the race, he would reveal even more of her past.
The door to her hide-out flung wide. She winked at the wash of light and the silhouette in stilettos slouching in the opening.
“I ditched the newshounds, but they smell blood, Cars,” Avery said. “Won’t be long till they sniff you out.”
Her political advisor’s down-tilted chin signaled to Carlotta that her shoulder-to-cry-on was vacant. “I know that voice,” Carlotta said.
“What a great performance—you really won’em-voice?”
“That’s the one. I thought my bad years were behind me.”
“I come in peace.” Avery sank into a crisscross applesauce pose. “No stones in these hands, sister.”
Carlotta appreciated Avery’s flow of Jesus references.
“I’m sitting on a bonafide Dubney career-smasher—the equivalent of a meteor hitting Earth—and I’m not using it. Meanwhile, *he* flashes twenty-year-old college party pics and labels me reckless. As though that’s me now.”
“You made a pact you’d play this race God’s way.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Carlotta untangled from the mop jungle and stepped into Keller Middle School’s hallway. “He’s forgotten me. Every word out of my mouth is lame. Ineffective. I fight with a sword, and Dubney’s blasting away with lasers.”
She wanted to attack, but God said, *Wait.* She liked playing rough, but God said, *I’ll handle things*…which was why she gave herself up to Him in the first place—not simply to change her destination but to live for His purpose.
“You’re right.” Carlotta leaned against a locker plastered with bright stickers. “Dubney’s dirt will break on its own.”
“Glad you’re listening to your political advisor.” Avery stood. “The early church leaders and Paul had it rough too. Remember how Paul wrote to Titus that everyone deserted him?”
“Except for God. Those guys were powerful, though. I’m best pals with mop heads.”
She wanted to be God’s hands and heart to those around her, not cringe in closets. But political fighting was different now. He didn’t want just her competence. Above all, he wanted her character, which meant putting her fists down and wresting to be obedient to Him first.
“Never guessed how hard this would be,” she said. “I’m not sure I can do it.”
“Win or lose; a race is hard.” Avery squeezed her hand. “No matter what Dubney trots out next, share your heart with voters. Let them decide.”
“I meant doing things God’s way is hard. Maybe I shouldn’t be in this race. Maybe I should leave it to others.”
“By that logic, no Christ-follower should hold a job, Cars,” Avery said. “Look, we’re supposed to reflect Christ wherever we are. Including leadership. Who fills those spots if we don’t?” She tugged at the tag on Carlotta’s suit jacket. “Wait…”
“What’er you doing?”
“Checking the manufacturer’s perfection warrantee. If you’re not flawless, I want my bucks back.”
“Funny, ha-ha.” Carlotta swiped away her hands. “Spoken like a political advisor who wants her candidate to get back in the arena.”
“Spiritual insights from a friend,” Avery said. “Want to pray?”
Carlotta nodded and bowed her head. She might not stop Dubney’s next devious move, but God was her refuge, and He was enough.
“Okay, now get back in there,” Avery said, lifting her head. “Win!”
“There’s the encourager I know. My friend.”
“Nope—your political advisor.” Avery grinned and strode toward the pack of yapping reporters descending like hounds after their prey.
Carlotta’s backbone stiffened tightrope taut, but she tucked away her inhaler.
She didn’t need it.
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Perhaps an oversight with the final editing, or something I have missed?
Keep writing.