I have joined a writer’s group that submits a story every week based on a scripture cue. I would like to share them with you, although they won’t all relate to weight loss. Then again, they may. Hope you enjoy.
I have enjoyed writing for this group. My stories are a little odd, but I pray asking God for guidance each week. I also draw from my personal life/feelings as I write about the characters. It’s fun. I enjoy it.
The following story, although it’s about a prostitute’s journey, it does relate to my weight loss. For years I would worship God, ask Him to guide me to His will, and then I ran to my other lover, the pleasure of food. Yes, I admit my other lover was food pleasure. Therefore I sold out my body to another, I was a prostitute.
Food pleasure almost cost my marriage. I once told my husband that I found more pleasure in food than I did in him. Sad, isn’t it. But God granted me a patient, loving, wise husband who tolerated my other lover for many years. (Note to young unmarried Seek God’s will for your mate. I did and God blessed me with the one perfect for me. When we were dating, I asked God to take him out of my life if he wasn’t God’s will for me. Enough preaching-got sidetracked-sorry.)
I hope you enjoy reading my short story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
HOPE AND VICTORY
Standing by the wall, two were watching. “There she is, do you think there’s hope for her?”
“Oh yes, there’s always hope. He gave up everything to win her.”
She sits at the bar with her coffee. “Man, these pants are tight. I can’t breathe. All part of the job I guess, my uniform.”
The man sitting beside her smiled as he looked at her with greed. Looking at her watch, “It’s almost time for work. How did I get trapped in this job? Wish my life was different, but there’s no hope of that.” He followed behind as she left.
The two watching, “Where are they going?” The wiser one, “You’ll see.”
Getting out of bed, she saw the $100 on the table. Sarcastically she thought, “Not bad for a couple of hours work.”
Accusation stood by her, “You’re mine. You’ll never get out. You belong to me. You’ll die before you escape. You made your choice and now I own you.”
Still watching, the younger asked “Is that true? Is it over for her? Is there no hope?” The wiser one, “Keep watching.”
Alone she cried recalling her past, those last words of confrontation and how she slammed the door determined to live her life as she wanted. “Why didn’t I listen? Dad is the only man who ever loved me? There’s no hope, my life will never change.”
Brokenhearted with her face in the pillow the tears flowed, “I’m trapped, guess I’ll die in this place.”
Peace entered, “Don’t you know how much I love you? I’ve come to bring you a new life with new joy.”
The two watching, “Do you think she’ll listen?” The wiser one, “Keep watching.”
Remembering a book her Dad loved, she opened the drawer of the nightstand, got that book out, and let it fall open. This was a game she used to play with her Dad. He would let his book fall open and read wherever it fell just to prove to her it always would speak to her heart.
She now read from the book in her hand, “This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!”
Staring into space, her body stiffened in anger, “No, I don’t believe this. There’s no hope for me. I won’t do this, I can’t.”
Heart retching broken cries filled the room. She threw herself across the bed sobbing, “Why did I leave? I should have stayed where it was safe.”
Peace sat on the bed beside her and placed His hand on her shoulder. She cried until there were no tears left. He kept His hand there until she sat up, breathed a deep sigh of resolve and relief. Exhaustion came, but Peace stayed and filled her with hope.
The older of the two spoke, “Let’s go, it’s time for choir.”
“What song are we going to sing?”
“Victory in Jesus”