I Speak Through His Love | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: I Speak Through His Love | Previous Challenge Entry
By Kayla Stoltzfus
08/25/16
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Never had the world felt so great and vivid and vibrant. Helene, on her way to the city market, swung her basket and sang. Her voice was little-used, thin, and tremulous, yet she could not help but sing.

"As the wind glides through the harp and the strings speak, so the Spirit of the Lord speaks through my members, and I speak through His love."

She had learned the song the night before, and it would be burned into her memory forever. At one time, she, as a slave, had seen the world and people in general as harsh and cruel, uncaring and unmerciful. The world had seemed large then, too, but only because it was full of people who either did not have the power to help her or only cared to use her.

But now she had seen love and mercy with her own eyes. Or rather, she had seen the One who encompassed those attributes and myriads more. One who had lived and died to give life to all people.

Helene had not seen Him face to face---He had returned to heaven after his conquering of death---she had seen Him through His followers. Watching love and peace play out in ordinary lives had drawn her to seek the reason why, to ask hard questions and receive hard, though satisfying, answers.

Where else but in Jesus Christ could she find full forgiveness of sin and power to live above it? Where else but in Jesus Christ could she be a slave in body yet truly free in spirit?

Even now, as she walked a familiar path, everything seemed new. The tiny yellow flowers spoke of His peace, the trees whispered of His power, the broad sky proclaimed His love.

When she reached the market, she was just in time to see a boy snatch a handful of figs from a stand and vault over another stand, knocking spools of yarn to the ground in his escape. The owner of the yarn, a middle-aged woman, shook her fist at the boy and cursed him before dropping stiffly to her knees to gather her scattered merchandise.

Helene hooked her basket on her arm and rushed to help. No one else stirred a muscle. The woman said nothing until Helene began to help wind the yarn back onto the spools after it had all been picked up.

"What do you want?" she snapped. "I have nothing to give you."

Helene smiled and did not stop working. "I want to help. You don't need to give me anything."

The woman scowled, but by the time the job was done, had warmed up considerably. "Good bye, child," she said when Helene left to complete her errands. "Thank you."

Helene waved and swung on through the market.

"You're late," snapped her mistress when she returned home. "Myrinne will be here any minute and you still haven't cleaned my room."

Helene curtsied. "I'm sorry, miss. I will go right away."

As she straightened Corinna's room as usual, she thought of the little things she used to do out of spite. So, instead of sweeping the dirt under the rug, she dumped it out into the garden. Instead of pushing Corinna's combs and other hair accessories into a pile, she arranged them neatly.

When she finished, the room had a distinctly clean feel that it had not had for a long time. Along with her newfound joy, Helene also had the satisfied feeling of a job well done.

She served Corinna and her friend that afternoon with a smile and a light step, singing in her mind.

"Helene," said Corinna after Myrinne had left. "My room is spotless. Something is different about you."

"I have a new master, miss," Helene said, almost enjoying the stunned look on her mistress's face. "May I tell you about Him?"

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