Feb 4, 2002
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OK, I guess I'll post this since I haven't posted this in here and I'd feel bad if I didn't at least post something. I wrote this.... yes... I honestly did :o I wrote it for my personal web page in I think it was September or October, I can't remember. I wrote it to sorta keep the viewer interested. I guess it didn't work. I started and finished it in one day and it took me like fifteen minutes so it's not that great. I'm also really bad at titles and just came up with one because it needed a subject. Ok, I've now bored you to death with the history so I'll let you read it if you're still interested.


A teenager stands in the middle of a crowded hall at school being pushed and shoved in every direction by others trying to get to their classes on time. She stands alone in the hall. Utterly alone. Though there are people around her no one speaks to her and only a few people ever look in her direction. People call names to her in class and she sits quietly not responding. What's the use? Her response would only mean more ridicule and what could she possibly say that would make them listen to her?

The teenager marches home from school tears in her eyes. She's been made fun of and the pointing and laughing has cut her deeply. She had tried not to cry but the tears had come against her bidding. The tears and her hurt look only made the others jeer louder. Finally, not being able to take any more jeering she had left. She paused on her walk home and shook a fist at the clouded sky shouting, "Are you even there?! Do you even care what happens to me?!"

She drops her head in defeat sniffing trying to hold back fresh tears. She looks around her to see who heard her outburst. No one was there. Her only companions were the trees. She sat down on a rock and held her head in her hands.

"I feel so alone."

She tends her own emotional wounds and decides to start home again. She rubs the tears from her eyes hoping her mother wouldn't notice them before she was able to get to the safety of her room. She walks into the house. It's empty. She is once again alone. She climbs the stairs to her room wondering if life is really worth living.

Weeks and months have passed. Soon a year passes and the teenager falls more and more away from the God she once knew. She begins to follow the way of the world, but she still clings to bits of her faith using them as a life-line back to reality. She's fallen into the "Bad Girl" class and even dresses the part. She is still a loner. No one wants to be around her, no one wants to try and reach her. To bring her back.

She misses her old life but fears going back. Afraid of what she might find once she gets back, afraid of the verbal ridicule from her peers. She's no longer ridiculed. The others don't know what to ridicule her about. They leave her alone. At times her old life wants to rise from it's ashes and shout, "I'm not that much different from you! I'm lost, oh God, help me find the way!" But she smashes it and buries the thoughts deep within her. Her old life has even affected her new one. Her morals still cling to her and she would never risk giving her body to a guy before wedlock. Something deep within her trembled at the thought of doing so, afraid of what would happen to the rest of her life, afraid that something might happen that she doesn't want. She refrained from hard drugs having seen what happened to her other "friends" whom had taken them.

Alone. She walks home from school again. Her grades are suffering and her walk with God has disappeared. She stops at the same spot where a year earlier she had raised her fist to the sky and looks around. Bewildered. She turns thinking she heard a voice call her name, but no one is there. She begins to take a step but stops and strains hearing the voice again. All is quiet. She walks home and ignores her mother heading up to the bathroom. She closes the door and stares at her features in the mirror. The dark eye make-up and dark lipstick make her look pale, dreary. She picks up a picture and looks at it. It's a picture of her though younger and wearing pastels and make-up to bring out her features instead of deaden them. She stares at it. She had been pretty. Pleasant to look at. She put the picture back down looking back in the mirror. "Whatever happened to that girl?" she ponders.

Tears well up in her eyes. She pulls a washcloth from the drawer and runs hot water scrubbing the make-up from her face. She looks back in the mirror. Same girl, but the eyes, the eyes are different. Lost...

The teen crawled into bed early that night wanting to hide from the world, but most of all wanting to hide from herself. She had come so far from where she had been and she began to wonder if she was any better. She lay awake half the night before falling into a restless sleep. At two am she awoke and rose from her bed. She was not able to sleep any longer. She was haunted by her past, present, and future. She pulled on a sweatshirt over her pajamas deciding that she needed to get out of the house. She snuck out of the house and just started walking. She didn't know where she was going and she didn't care.
***
She stopped and looked around. To her surprise she was standing where she had stood that afternoon. She hated that spot. She had killed her past there and buried it. She had placed her past in a box and buried it hoping to also bury the memories. She laughed at how foolish she was. She felt tied to that spot. No matter how hard she ran and in what direction she ran in she always ended up at that spot.

She stared at the ground where she had buried her past. Suddenly, she kneeled on the ground and began to dig it up. She didn't know why she wanted the bring back her past she just knew she had to dig it up or she'd lose herself. She uncovered the box and lifted it out of the hole. She sat back on her heels and ran her fingers over the wooden lid feeling the carved "RIP". She pulled off the lid and stared into the box. It was just as she left it. Her Bible was laid in it and her cross necklace was tucked into a tissue beside it.

A wind picked up and she shuddered. Suddenly, she heard a voice calling her. She crouched down low hoping who ever it was wouldn't see her. She looked around but no one was there. The wind calmed for a moment then picked up and with it the voice spoke softly, almost a whisper, "Beloved, come back to Me."

She felt her spine tingle and she shut her eyes tightly shaking her head, her heart crying out, "But I can't!"

She suddenly felt like she was being held, "My child..."

"I can't come back."

"Beloved, I died for you that you might live."

Tears welled up in her eyes, "But you left me. You left me!"

"My child, my dear beloved child, I will never leave you; never will I forsake you."

The wind ceases and the girl looks down at the box in her lap through teary vision. Gingerly, she lifted the Bible from the box and looked at it long and hard. She stuffed the cross necklace into her pocket, uncertain of what to do next. The winds began to calm and loneliness crept over her. She didn’t want to be lonely. She jumped to her feet taking her Bible with her she shouted, "Wait! I want to hear your voice! I want to hear the gentle whisper of your voice!"

A breeze stirred; "Welcome back, Beloved."


Hebrews 13:5 "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."

John 3:16 "For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son that who so-ever believes in him shall have life everlasting."

Copyright 2001 Kaitlin aka oncewaslost
 

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Originally posted by billy
that actually brought a tear to my eye. what a wonderful story of our Fathre's unending love.

Amen Billy. Matthew 18:12-14 sums it up:
“What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them goes astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine and go to the mountains to seek the one that is straying? 13 And if he should find it, assuredly, I say to you, he rejoices more over that sheep than over the ninety-nine that did not go astray. 14 Even so it is not the will of your Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish.
The New King James Version, (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publishers) 1998, c1982.

Praise God for His immeasurable love!

God Bless
 
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