Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of “Don’t Try to Walk before You Can Crawl” (without using the actual phrase or literal example). (01/17/08)
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TITLE: Freedom | Previous Challenge Entry
By Ruth Neilson
01/22/08 -
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Battered oak shelves held the offspring of the fires, and when the bellows quieted for the night, they would speak amongst themselves.
“The fire is too hot,” one would say.
Another would respond, “Did you not see how hard He beat me?”
Gripes filled the room of the want to be warriors. The shelf below the Whiners sat three wizen swords: Truth, Faith, and Hope. They had seen the battles...they had also seen their colleagues shatter and break with the slightest blow. Their handles now bore scars of past battles, and they waited diligently for the next attack to come.
They tried to tell the Whiners that all that the Maker put them through was required...but the three wizened voices were drowned out. No one wanted to hear that the pain was necessary to become strong in the Maker’s hands. Dejected, they fell silent, only occasionally offering a quiet objection to the Whiners words about the ‘punishment they did not deserve.’
Truth, Faith, and Hope wept. How could this generation of would-be warriors not realize that without the fire, hammer, or the oil, they would not be prepared to face the enemy? Tears streamed down their blades, causing streaks in their freshly polished surface.
Daily, they would cry out, “Maker! Creator! How can they not know? How long can they remain ignorant to what is required of them?”
But, the Maker did not answer them. He smiled and began to build up his fire again, preparing to smelt fresh iron ore into metal. With great care, He scooped away the impurities and began to mold a new warrior.
Truth, Faith, and Hope watched curiously, as the young warrior quietly accepted the blows of the hammer. Finally, he was placed on the oak shelf next to the other unfinished swords. The Maker smiled and touched the handle gently.
“I have a special job for you.” He announced before leaving the workshop for the day. The evening tradition began again as soon as the door glided closed.
“The fire is to hot,” one would say.
Another would respond, “Did you not see how hard He beat me?”
The three remained silent, waiting to see what the newcomer would say. Finally, they heard him. In a trembling voice, the newly forged sword spoke, “I’m going to be a warrior when I’m finished.”
The first sword, the one who rejected the flames, laughed. “It’s not as easy as you might think it is.”
“That’s right,” chimed in the second one. “The Maker isn’t gentle once its time for shaping you.”
“And I hope you don’t mind the heat, ‘cause it’s about to get really hot for you.”
The newborn quivered for a long moment before Faith spoke up. “Yes, it won’t be easy, young one. But it’s all for a purpose. The fire is to strengthen and finish purging you of all impurities.”
“And the beating,” he asked, his voice still wavering. “What good is the beating?”
Hope smiled as she leaned forward. “That’s to shape you into the exact purpose and destiny that the Maker has for you.”
Truth nodded once, “It’ll be worth it when you’ll be able survive on the battle field and be victorious against the enemy.” He paused and studied the young sword. “What did the Maker call you?”
The newly formed sword paused before whispering, “Freedom.”
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The battle cry has been passed down from generation to generation, declaring freedom. What will this generation do with it? Will we sit back and enjoy sitting on the bench, or are we willing endure the fire and beatings to be ready for the battle. Are we prepared to get our hands dirty caring for the hurt and broken? It is time that the church lifts her face to the heavens and cry out, “freedom!”
I am ready. I want to be a mighty warrior in the army of the LORD!
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I'd end it with "Freedom"--that really packs a punch.
This one put a lump in my throat.
Red ink: I wouldn't have added the end piece--readers don't need explanations and this felt a little preachy.