Horses, Picture, Stories

Pillar of Hope

I sat there behind the arena, my head on my knees, looking. Looking out to the open field. Looking for something. The show had been over for over two hours. I had already taken care of my horse. All I needed to do was get in my truck and take off for home.

Until I came back next weekend, that is.

But no. I was sitting here staring at nothing. For no reason.

I’ve gotta be crazy.

I pushed myself up and turned for the truck.

There is a reason, you know.

My thoughts stopped me.

I turned back around and sat down. Staring again.

Remember? Remember what Reba said?

How could I forget?

I might never see you again, so I want to say this now. God loves you. He always will too. You were made for a purpose, girl. Go out there and shine. Here, take this Bible. I was going to give it to you at Christmas, but, oh well. Promise me you’ll read it, ok?”

And yes, I had promised.

And then I had gotten in the front of the U-Haul truck with my parents and we had moved down here to Oklahoma. Four months and one Bible reading later, I got a call from her sister, saying that she was killed in an drive by shooting in the neighborhood where she worked with some troubled kids.

Five years later and I’m still thinking about the last thing she said to me face to face.

I’ve gotta be crazy.

I started to push myself up again.

It’s in your tack box.

I froze. Where did that thought come from?

The Bible she gave you. It’s in your tack box.

I stayed frozen, halfway up. My Bible? Why bother? I read it like I promised I would! Surely she didn’t mean for me to read it everyday or something!

Just today.

I unfroze and started for my tack box, as if I wasn’t in control.

John is one of the best names ever. Let’s just start there.

Halfway through the book?

I’ve gotta be crazy.

I flipped through the pages to John. And there I started reading. I read about the prophet–John–and the man–Jesus–and the miracles that He did. I was stuck in the book, somehow unable to stop reading. I read about the crucifixion and His resurrection. I smiled at the end of it.

That was an interesting story, to say the least. Hooking is more like it. No wonder Reba liked it!

I stashed it back in my tack box and slipped into my truck.

Did you read the story? Did you hear anything in it? Reba believed it.

I felt the truck roar to life underneath me.

It’s someone’s imagination. A fairy tale; Cinderella, Snow White, Frozen. 

I put it in gear.

It’s real. You know it. Reba knew it. This guy is as real as he can get.

I rolled down the driveway to the road.

But…how? Why? Why would the Son of God die for me?

I turned at the stoplight, left towards home.

Remember the verse? For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

I pulled into the local church. Spotting a huge cross, I slipped over and sat on the bench.

Staring.

Again.

This time I knew why, however.

Did He really? Yes, He did. How do you know? I…I…I just do. That’s not very good. But it’s true, I know.

“God.”

Is He gonna hear me?

“I’m totally lost over here.”

That’s an understatement.

“There’s something that I’m missing, but I don’t know what it is.”

Somehow, show me!!

“Help.”

You’re missing Me. Follow Me, My child. I will make you whole. A new voice filtered into my head.

I stared longer at the cross, suddenly understanding what it meant. I had passed by it so many times. How long how I ignored it? I wasn’t lost anymore. An old song that Reba used to sing came to mind. ‘I once was lost but now am found.’

I sat there on the bench, my head on my knees, looking. Looking at the cross. Looking at grace. Looking at my pillar of hope.

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1 thought on “Pillar of Hope”

  1. Comments on my story:

    Pillar of Hope

    Daleen C.

    A promise made, leads a young man to receive the ultimate promise of God, salvation in His Son. The Internal dialogue in this one is especially fun. Reba chose how she would live and her choices impacted the lead in powerful ways.

    Grand Champion – Daleen C

    Thanks for writing your entry and for the portrayal of the internal struggle of the lead.

    (PS, it wasn’t a young man, it was a young woman.)

    Like

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