This is actually one of my "latest" Writing Challenge entries (the fact that I submitted it over six months ago may hint you in to how infrequently I've been entering lately!). I remember being SO excited when I came up with the angle to tell this story from. Got several comments at Faithwriters on my POV. What do YOU think?
Welcome to my contribution to Fiction Friday, hosted by the lovely Sara "Sawa" Harricharan at Fiction Fusion. Make sure that you head over to her blog and link up with your own fiction. Or, if you just want to read some great fiction (ALWAYS great in my opinion!), head over to Karlene's blog and check out the links there.
It was perfect.
I sigh, focusing on what is before me here rather than my recollections. The ground beneath my feet is a reddish-brown and feels rough, a complete contrast to the lush green carpet of the floor of my garden. The plants here are sparse, and many have thorns.
I approach a small patch of poppies. I inhale the scent (it is quite lovely), but it is the petals that grab my attention. Though their edges are generally smooth, I notice irregularly-shaped holes in each one, made, no doubt, by a hungry insect or two. They are still beautiful, but not perfect.
I run my tongue over my front teeth and look up again. In the distance, I see another cloud, larger and darker than the others. Clearly a rain cloud. It appears to be heading this way. Soon, the sky will darken, the red-brown dirt beneath my feet will turn to mud, and these beautiful, but imperfect, flowers will be weighed down by the falling rain.
Yet, I remind myself, the rain will also bring refreshment to the people, a touch color to some of this drab land, and continued life to all who need it.
I grin and look, not toward the sky, but down the path I am walking on: the road to the temple, just within my sight.
Yes, it will get worse before it gets better. Much worse, in fact. But, it will get better. Better, even, than My garden.
Of this I am certain. For that is why I have come. That is why My Father sent me.
The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. Romans 8:19-21 NIV
Thanks for reading! Be sure to stop by Sawa's blog for more great fiction