The Unforseen Kiss

It was predictable. The situation, anyways. He was on one side of the room, and she was on the other. Five seconds after walking through the door, she met his eyes and smiled. This told him everything he needed to know. She came because of him. Arrogance did not tell him this. Nor did conceit. He did not think that he was something special, he just knew that she came for him. She had purposefully sought out his face, and, when she found it, smiled with recognition. It was time.
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She found his face and smiled. It wasn't a shy, "wow, he is staring at me" smile. No, this was a smile of recognition. A smile of love. A smile of longing.

She had waited so long for him to come back. For just a trickling of his name to be uttered. For microsecond look at a non-picture. And now, here she was, 50 feet away from the person she longed for. He smiled back as he rose from the table and made his way towards her. They met halfway. She smiled, coyly this time, and said, "Hello." She didn't know what was going to happen next, but she never imagined what did happen. Instead of replying, he bent his head down too quickly for her to recognize what was happening, and kissed her lips. Shock froze her lips, but soon the shock gave way to the longing and the kiss erupted passionately.

Throughout the kiss, and for a long, speechless moment afterwards, she couldn't control her heart. It was as though it were doing backflips through her, pounding, waiting to burst free. She came her for him, but he came back for her. Everything was as it should be.
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"Heaven meets earth like an unforseen kiss, and my heart turns violently inside of my chest. I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way He loves."

The above is a true story. It has been adapted for ease of understanding and romanticized a bit. However, Christ did sit and wait for the time to come. He was sitting in the "room" waiting for "her" to come in. When she came in, the time was right. That's when heaven met earth. When Christ became man. It was so unexpected, so deliberate, and so shocking, that it took a while for the shock to wear off, but, when it did, the result was a passion that cannot be equaled by man.

This passion is the passion to live for Christ. The desire, the longing, they are there before hand, hidden deep within you. When you see Christ, clearly, for the first time, they spring forward uncontrolled. Then, it is like this "kiss" happens all over again. It's so unexpected, but so complete, that you have no choice but to kiss back.

And that's the way he loves us. Without care or thought about our past, he says "I want you." He's already shown it by dying on the cross, whereby making this relationship possible, and taking away the punishment of our sins, if only we would kiss back. And that is your decision entirely.

The Amnesiac

Debbie met Carl in late Autumn of 1998. They quickly took to one another, and spent most of their time together. It seemed that the world melted into an unintelligible blur when they were together, and the moments were glacial while apart. It truly was love, and a strong love at that. In late January of 1999, Carl proposed. Debbie, all red from excitement and astonishment, said yes, and the two were wed that July. Time went by, and the two couldn't have been more happy. Two years passed in blissful happiness, but, August of 2001 nearly wrecked their marriage...

One morning, Debbie woke up, alone in bed. Debbie busied herself by getting ready for the day. She showered, brushed her hair, and dressed. At 7:30, Debbie left for work. She pulled out of the garage and closed the door. She went about her daily routine. After work was over, she headed home. When she arrived, a car was in her drive-way. It surprised her to see a car there. She cautiously pulled into the garage and entered the house. A man was at her stove cooking dinner. She took in the man's frame and sandy hair. "Carl," she asked timidly. "What are you doing here?" Carl turned around and looked at Debbie, obviously confused.

"What are you talking about, Debbie? I live here." Debbie was taken aback. She didn't remember Carl moving into her house, and he wasn't here this morning when she woke. Debbie just stared at Carl, she didn't know what to say. "Quit kidding around, Deb, and help me make supper." Debbie slowly set out two settings on the table and chopped random vegetables without really knowing what they were. Her mind was too busy running through her memories trying to remember Carl moving in. All she knew, though, was that they had only met a handful of times. It was absurd to think that Carl actually lived here. She barely knew the man!

Dinner was finally ready, and they sat down to eat. "I'm sorry, Carl," Debbie began, "but I don't remember you moving in. All I know is that we have met maybe four times. Why do you say you live here?" Carl busted out laughing at her words, which caught Debbie off guard. "I'm being serious, Carl! This is really weird. Why do you say you live here, too?" Carl's laugh caught up short in his throat. He cleared it out, and stared at Debbie, too stunned to speak for a second. "Really, Debbie? You don't remember us getting married two years ago?"

"Two years ago! I only met you for the first time, last week! What are you talking about?" Debbie was on the verge of tears. Two years, she thought. How could we have been married for two years? And why would he even say that? Debbie was looking at her plate while she thought. She heard Carl's fork hit the plate, and the noise snapped her out of her reverie. She found Carl's face and saw the tears streaking down. She had hurt him, and hurt him deeply. Was it possible that they were married? No, it couldn't be! She met him last week. Carl scooted his chair back and stood. "Come with me," he softly commanded. Debbie rose from the chair and followed Carl into the sitting room.

Carl reached under the coffee table and pulled out a large photo album. For several hours, Carl patiently went page by page, picture by picture, describing the day and what happened and what was going on in each picture. Finally, he reached the pictures from their wedding. Carl tried to describe the day, but his emotions choked his words. He handed Debbie the album and got up from the couch and headed to the bedroom. Debbie just stared at the pictures from the wedding, confused. There was so much evidence pointing to her and Carl being married, but she couldn't remember even dating the man! How could the last three years just be erased from her memory?! She reached the last page of the pictures and a piece of paper fell out. Debbie reached down and picked it up. She unfolded it and read the words written on the page:
"Through life and death, sickness and health, riches and the lack of them, I will love you. If you should happen to wake one day and not know me, I will love you. If came between a choice of your life or mine, I will gladly give mine to show you my love. There is nothing I will not do for you, my love, my desire, my sweet Deborah."

The date on the paper was July 15, 1999, the date that her wedding was supposedly on. Tears flooded Debbie's eyes when she began to realize what was going on. She had somehow forgotten her first love. Her true love, but he didn't forget her. He even did everything in his power to show her his love once again. Debbie sat there for another hour, constantly reading and re-reading the words of Carl's vows to her.

Carl came back out and found her sitting on the couch holding the paper. He had found her engagement and wedding rings lying on the dresser, she hadn't put them on this morning. "I believe these are yours, love," Carl said, the tears thickening his voice. Debbie turned to see him, the tears flowing freely from her own eyes. "I'm so sorry, Carl," Debbie said as she took the rings from his hand. "I don't know how I could have forgotten this...forgotten you." Carl placed a finger on her lips and pulled her close to his chest. "It doesn't matter, love. What matters is that you know how much I love you. You can re-discover your love for me, because I won't ever forget you." Carl kissed his wife's lips and they sat up the rest of the night talking, and Debbie re-discovered her love for Carl.
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"There is an epidemic of spiritual amnesia going around, and none of us is immune. No matter how many fascinating details we learn about God's creation, no matter how many pictures we see of His galaxies, and no matter how many sunsets we watch, we still forget." --Francis Chan, Crazy Love

Despite the fact that Debbie forget she was married to Carl, she was still married and Carl still loved her. It is the same with the Church, Christ's Bride. Even if we forget that we are Christ's Bride, Christ still loves us and we are still His.

The Date (Part 3)

After I parked in front of her house, Stacy looked me in the eyes briefly, then looked down at her hands worrying over her keys. She kept turning them over and over in her hands, and would occasionally ask me a simple "Yes or No" question about my past, while glancing up ever so slightly at my face. She would bite her lip after she asked, as though she were thinking through something really hard and couldn't reach an acceptable answer to her problem. I stole a glance at the clock which read 10:45, and quickly looked back at her. "Am I keeping you from something," Stacy asked.

Crap. She noticed me look at the clock. "No, not at all. I was just wondering what the time was," I explained quickly. I really didn't have anything to get to. I was actually cataloging how much time we were spending together, but I didn't think that response would be well received. "Oh, okay," she replied. "Well, I think I'm gonna go in anyways. It is getting pretty late." Her eyes fell again to her hands still worrying over her keys. I wasn't ready to leave her yet, so I got out, and went around to her door and opened it for her. I walked her up to her door, and we stood there looking at each other again. She was still worrying over her keys in her hands. My mind, all night, had been seeing the scene from Hitch playing in my head, as if Will Smith was teaching me what to do instead of Kevin James.

As I'm about to awkwardly make my move, she suggests, "You know, you don't have to leave right away. If you don't want to. My room mate is probably already asleep and the living room is on the other side of the house. We could talk some more in there." My face lit up as she said that. For one thing, I was saved the possible embarrassment of going in for the kiss when she didn't want one, and, two, I got to spend more time with her. "Yeah," I answered, "that sounds great."

She opened her front door and we go in and make our way to the living room. "Make yourself at home," she says when we reach the living room. "I'll be right back." She went into a room just off the main living room and closed the door. I went and found the bathroom and ran water over my face attempting to wash the sweat and dirt off. I took my shirt off and splashed some on my armpits, hoping that would cut down on any odor that escaped my excessive use of deodorant earlier. I threw my shirt back on and went back out to the couch and was left to my thoughts. These ranged from everything to "Does she want me to kiss her?" to what she was doing in her room.

I didn't have to wonder about that much longer, for she came out and I saw that she had changed into, presumably, what served as her pajamas. Stacy sat on the couch and looked at me. "There," she said, "I'm much more comfortable now. Sorry, I don't have anything for you to change into. I'm sure you want to get out of those clothes."

"Don't worry about it," I told her. "I'm fine." After that, we keep talking, taking turns asking questions about our pasts and what we see ourselves doing in the future. We talked for a long time, and as time passed, we inched closer to each other. I didn't really notice it at first, but I looked one time and we were several feet apart and the next time, we were only about 18 inches apart. I, then, started watching her whenever she shifted positions. I began to realize she shifted so that she was closer to me, and I, subconsciously, was reciprocating the movement. We got a little closer, and then the moment came. I looked up and we locked eyes again. This time, I wasted none thinking through. I moved my head towards hers and she reciprocated. My eyes closed when our lips touched, and I was suddenly hyper aware of her proximity. My hand moved to her face and softly caressed her cheek, while one of her hands wound its way under my arm to my back.

My next conscious thought came a minute later as our lips came apart. "Well," I said, letting the word speak for itself.

"Yeah," she countered. She looked back at me and smiled. She bit her lower lip again, but this time she didn't look like she was thinking through a hard decision, more like remembering something exciting. Her eyes looked as though they were smiling wide in joy. After a moment, she curled herself into my side, pulled my arm over her shoulder and intertwined our fingers and said, "I guess this counts as date number one."

The End.

The Date (part 2)

Option C:

She finally responded to me. I was so anxious to see what she would say that during the waiting time I lived on Facebook and constantly refreshed the page, hoping to find her response. When it did, I didn't know what to think. I spent so much time imagining the conversation we would have and what would happen afterwards, I never paused to think about this response: "Hey! Yeah, I'm going to be hanging out with some friends from church on Thursday if you want to come. We'll be meeting at the park for some Ultimate Frisbee then getting some coffee afterwards. We'd love it if you came! 7:00 on Thursday."

Well, it wasn't exactly a "no," was it? I didn't really know what to think about it at all. I was so excited about getting to know her as a potential girlfriend, that I totally skipped the friend stage. Maybe this would work out better?

Well, I wrote back, "Sure, I'll be there. No doubt," and prepared myself for hanging out with several people I didn't know. On the one hand, she seemed liked she geniunely wanted me to come, so that was exciting, and I didn't really specify if I wanted it to be just us, so I guess I'll take what I can get.

Thursday came, and I left home at about 6:45 to get to the park. When I got there, several people, including Stacy, were warming up and throwing the frisbee around. As I was walking up, a guy threw a frisbee real deep, over Stacy's head, and she came running after it. I figured it would be way out of her reach, so I ran to make a play on it. She was much faster than I gave her credit for, and we collided with each other and the frisbee fell to the ground. Her knee hit mine and her shoulder rammed into my chest, which knocked me backwards onto the ground. Stacy fell on top of me, and we hit the ground hard. "Ow," said Stacy as she rolled over to see who she ran into. Her face had a look of frustration on it until she recognized it was me. "Oh, hey, Chris," she said breaking into a dazzling smile. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"It's ok," I said, smiling back, though mostly because I didn't want her to get up. "I should have just let you catch it anyway, but I thought it was out of your reach." The sentence trailed off and we found ourselves in one of those weird movie moments where the girl doesn't get off of the guy she accidently knocked down until it gets awkward. Well, about 3 seconds past awkward, she realized she was still on me and got up. She blushed a little, and said, "Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone." So, we went over to the rest of the group, who were, if I wasn't just imagining it, giving her a look that asked, "Who is this and why were you laying on him?"

She introduced me to everyone, and I quickly forgot most of their names, seeing as my mind still wanted to be pinned down by Stacy. Soon after, though, we got started. It had been several years since I had last played Ultimate, but remembered my form soon enough, and in no time, I was bombing throws down the field for Stacy or one of the other guys on my team. After the game, Stacy came up and gave me a big high-five, and invited me to go hang out with them. I told her I would and we started heading toward our cars. I noticed Stacy hanging back, talking to one of the girls, and then she looked over at me. I turned my head and kept walking to my car, when I heard her call, "Hey! Chris! Hold up!" I stopped and turned around. Stacy stopped in front of me and said, "Julie is gonna go home, and I rode with her over here, do you think I could get a ride with you?"

My heart started beating faster than at any point during the game as I said, "Sure. That's fine." My mind was yelling and I was doing backflips inside my body as we walked to the car. We got in and headed to the coffee bar. We stayed there with everyone for about an hour, just talking and joking around, and then, one by one, people started leaving to go do homework or go to bed since they had to be at work early and other various activities. Luckily, the public schools had a day off on Friday, and so did I, so Stacy and I stayed behind and talked more. We sat there talking until a barista came up and said they were closing, so we got back in my car and left. I looked at her and asked if she wanted me to take her home, and she said sure and gave me directions.

When we pulled up in front of her house, she looked at me and...

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Choice number 2:
A, B, or C.

The Date (Part 1)

Have you ever found yourself captivated by someone? I mean so utterly enthralled with them, you make every excuse imaginable to see him/her? It's a weird feeling, right? That's the way I was with Stacy after I first met her. First of all, she is gorgeous. I'm talking beyond beautiful type of pretty. Her blond hair is usually pulled up into a pony tail, which always looks better to me, her green eyes are piercing, and her smile is contagious. When she smiles, I swear her eyes laugh. That really is her best physical quality. She's athletic and very well built. She's naught but 5'5", but I've seen her wreak havoc on the basketball court. I've also heard stories of her prowess on the softball field, and, man, can she sing! She seemed gentle and genuine in her faith in God, but it took me a while to know who she really is.

See, I had only known Stacy for about a month and we'd only had maybe four conversations over that amount of time. Neither one of us had much time on Sunday mornings to talk a lot. I wanted to change that, though. I wanted to get to know her. So, how did she captivate me? It's simple, I don't know her, and I wanted to. Also, she is very pretty and from what I could tell, single. Why wouldn't I be captivated by her?

It is weird, I'll give you that one. It wasn't exactly "love-at-first-sight" for me, but I definitely took notice of her. When she walked up on stage that Sunday, my eyes were drawn to her. She captured my attention while she was up there, I'm sorry to say. I was pulled away from worship, and that wasn't the last time it happened. However, I found that when my mind drifted to her, I didn't think anything bad about her. My mind was just filled with questions like: What is she like? What are her quirks? What does she like to do in her free time? Does she like NCIS? and other random questions like that.

Then, after about six weeks, I finally got up the courage to see if she wanted to go eat with me after church one Sunday and she said yes! I was so excited and wished it was that same Sunday, but I would have to wait another week for that.

Finally, the day came. I had anticipated it all week and I found my mind drifting to how it would play out. I thought we would go, enjoy ourselves immensely, talk about all sorts of things, get to know each other better, that I would impress her enough that she would start to like me, and spend the whole afternoon talking and getting to know each other.

I let her choose the restaurant, but offered to drive so we could talk more. She agreed to that and we left as soon as church was over for the restaurant. We got to our table and sat down. We made small talk and ordered. We covered several of my questions and I answered some of the ones she had for me. I had the feeling it was going well. We finished, payed, and left to pick up her car. When we reached the church again, I asked what she was going to do this afternoon, and she said she had a lot of papers to grade, so I told I would see her later at church and told her to have fun. She responded with "you too" and left. I replayed the meal in my several times that day, and decided that it followed my expectations fairly close.

It was then I decided to ask her out again, so that I night at church I did. Sort of.

"Hey, Stacy," I said when she came walking up the aisle. "Get those papers done?" Stupid question. Why did I ask that?

"Hey, Chris. Yeah, I got most of them done. What did you do this afternoon," she asked.

My mind said I thought about our meal all afternoon, but I replied with, "Nothing, really. I just watched TV." So, exciting. Well, here goes everything: "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out again sometime? Today was pretty fun."

"Sure, look me up on Facebook and we'll figure something out. Gotta go now, though. Bye." She turned and walked off. I waited to see if she looked over her shoulder like girls do in the movies when they like someone. But she didn't.

That night, I sent her a friend request on Facebook, and waited for her confirmation. She confirmed it the next day and wrote on my wall: "Hey there, you found me." So I clicked "wall-to-wall" and wrote on her wall "I sure did. We are now officially friends."

I waited a day or so before mentioning our hang-out time, then I wrote on her wall, "Hey, let me know a time when you will be free and we can go get coffee or something."

It took her a while to respond, but she finally did....
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Now, this is your turn to get interactive! If you want this story to continue, I need you to leave a comment and write A, B, or C. There are three different possible outcomes from here, and it's up to you to choose. After a week, which ever has the most votes is what it will be. If it's a tie, I choose which way it will go. Sorry, but you don't get to know the possible outcomes beforehand. It makes it more fun this way! Please cast your vote!!! Thanks.

That Which Never Was (Part 3)

"I'm warning you now," my guide said softly. "This will be the hardest for you to see." The scene rewound and once again I found myself looking at a picture of young-me prior to asking Sarah to prom.

"Has any of the background changed from the previous two outcomes you have shown me?" I asked. "Am I still dating Liz, or not?"

"No," he replied, "now, watch."

The volume turned up so I could hear the conversation. "Hey, Sarah," young-me said. "What's up?" The conversation drifted into the meaningless for a while before young-me got to the point. I expected something similar to previous vision of this moment in time, but, young-me just said, "Hey, listen, I was wondering if you woulgo to prom with me? There is no one else I'd rather go with than you." Sarah nodded her head and smiled. She said that she would love to, and then the volume faded out.

The scene shifted again, but this time I was sitting with Kevin, James, and Logan at lunch one. We were discussing prom and the upcoming summer. James, Logan, and I all poked fun at Kevin trying to get him to suck it up and ask Alisha out on a date outside of prom. Kevin blushed bright red and said, "I will if Danny asks Sarah out." A collective "Ooo" went up from the rest of the guys. Kevin had called young-me out.

I listened intently to hear what young-me would say. "It depends on how prom goes. I don't know how everything will play out." All the guys started complaining about young-me's "cop-out" answer, but young-me simply shrugged and said, "It's true."

The scene changed again. I was back in front of Sarah's house, dropping her off from prom. I watched as young-me, once again, debated on kissing Sarah, and, once again, didn't. I was confused and turned to ask my guide what was going on, but he just raised his hand and the scene changed again. This time it was just after graduation. Sarah and Alicia had come to see the seniors off before our graduation celebration trip. James, Logan, Tyler, and Kevin were all on the bus and young-me was boarding when Sarah called my name. Young-me stopped and met her. The volume turned up so I could hear this conversation. Sarah told me she just wanted to say goodbye before we left, so young-me must have thought it was an appropriate time. "What are you doing tomorrow?" young-me asked.

"Nothing," Sarah answered. "Why?"

Young-me stammered over the words, but finally asked if she wanted to go on a date then. Sarah's face lit up, and a smile broke across her face. She was more excited about being asked on this date than to prom. The volume faded, but the picture didn't. Young-me must have been feeling bold, because he kissed her. Lucky for young-me, Sarah kissed back. The visible reactions from James, Logan, and Tyler were hilarious. They all looked like they were whooping and hollering and applauding young-me, but Kevin looked shell-shocked. I guess he knew that he had to live up to his end of the bargain.

The scene faded into black and I heard my guide say, "That sequence of events changed everything. You never left the state for college. You stayed in town and waited for Sarah to finish high school. These next scenes will go by fast, but they will be crystal clear. Brace yourself."

The scenes began to flick through as though they were pictures. Yet, I saw all of them perfectly. The first was of our date the next night. The second was of us at a party. The third was of us on our one-year dating anniversary, then her senior prom, then her graduation, our two-year anniversary, and going off to state university together. The last picture I saw before everything went black again was of me kneeling with a ring in my hand and her with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. I didn't need to hear or be told that I had proposed and she had said yes.

"That last one," my guide said, once we re-entered the darkness, "it would have been about a year ago. This next one would have been yesterday." I could feel myself crumble to the floor as the darkness lifted and I saw Sarah and myself getting married.

Tears flooded my eyes and I screamed, "Enough! Stop!" The picture faded and was replaced with white. I was face to face with my guide.

"I told you this would be the hardest," my guide said sadly. "As you were told at the beginning, this last outcome is no longer possible, but neither are the previous two. You will always have Sarah as a friend." The guide paused for a bit, allowing this bit of information to wash over me. "You have a choice now," he resumed. "Whichever way you choose, you wake up. One choice is to wake up with no knowledge of this night and what you have seen. The other is to wake up with full knowledge. You should know, though, that if you choose to not remember tonight, you will wake up back as a senior a week before you tell Liz you are flying back to take her to her senior prom. If you choose to remember, you will wake up tomorrow and nothing except your knowledge will have changed."

I sat down on the white floor and put my head in my hands. I ran through each of the three other outcomes I was shown. One lead to a happy ever after with Sarah, but the other two lead to a life without her at all. One thought sprang to the front of my mind, "Is it better to have loved and lost, or never loved at all?" But I already loved her. She was just like a sister, and I loved her. Could I really risk giving that up? I stood back up and looked my guide in the face and said, "Let me keep this. Sarah is too important to lose altogether. Besides, she is happy now."

As soon as I said those words, I woke up. My phone was going off. I checked my text message and saw it was from Sarah. It said, "Hey. I just wanted to say I miss you. Love you big brother." A tear rolled down my cheek as I responded: "I miss you too Sarah. Have a good day. Love you." After I sent the message, a smile crossed my face.

Yeah, this was the right choice.

(The End)
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Toodles.

That Which Never Was (part 2)

(Sorry for the change in voice, this will be easier to write in first person rather than third.)

"Danny. I will show you what could have happened, but you mustn't dwell on this. And do not linger on the thought that what you feel is still possible. That is a different matter altogether, and I will not grant that wish..."

Immediately I was intrigued. What would God show me? What did that last part mean? Would I want God to change things so that I could be with Sarah? Even as I asked myself that question I knew that's what I wanted.

The darkness of sleep lightened and I saw my high school hallways. I looked around and noticed my friends and all the other students from my time there. I then noticed a man wearing a brown jacket standing against the far wall, I walked up to him and asked, "Who are you?"

"I am your guide," he replied. "I will show you that which never was, but could have been. There are three possible outcomes from your situation with Sarah. In each scenario, you have already broken up with Liz and are moving forward." He motioned toward Sarah and my younger self talking in the hallway. "One more thing," my guide said, "do not attempt to speak with them. This is purely a eyes and ears only dream."

After he finished talking, the conversation young-me was having with Sarah hit my ears. I was telling her about me breaking up with Liz, and she was telling me how sorry she was that it happened. After that conversation ended, everything fast forwarded to the day when I asked Sarah to the prom. It started the same as when I actually asked her, but it didn't end the same way. "Sarah," young-me said after the conversation started deviating from the original path, "I know what your blogs mean. I know who they are about, for the most part, and I want you to know that I feel the same way. I like you, Sarah. Will you go to the prom with me?"

The answering smile young-me got was enough to make older-me giddy. I always liked her smile and loved to see it. Even now, it was enough to make my head spin. The picture fast forwarded to another moment. This time, it was after prom and I was telling Sarah goodnight. My gut actually tensed in the dream as I realized that young-me was wrestling with the idea of kissing her, but my younger self didn't. Confused, I looked at my guide and asked, "Why didn't I kiss her? I remember the only reason why I didn't kiss her before was because of Liz, but that problem is gone, now."

My guide smiled at me and said, "You are graduating soon. Leaving her to go back to Texas. You decided that it wouldn't work out, so why get hurt over it? Unfortunately, she wanted you to kiss her. She was hoping you would. When you didn't, she thought it was because you didn't like her anymore and your friendship suffered because of it. You never became the close friends that you are now, and she slipped out of your life completely."

I got angry then, how could I lose her friendship?! I cherished that above everything else! I turned to shout at my guide when he said, "Now, let's see what would have happened if you kissed her."

Immediately, the scene rewound and young-me stood at the point of decision once more. This time, however, young-me bent down, wrapped his arms around her waist gently and kissed her lips. In that moment, the deepest feeling of envy and jealousy washed over me. I was envious of my younger self because he kissed Sarah, and I didn't. I would never know what that felt like, while he would. Young-me and Sarah pulled back from each other and smiled. The picture froze. I looked at my guide who said, "Now, we will see what happens."

The picture fast forwarded to a point in college. I still went off to another state for school, but this time, my long distance relationship was with Sarah and not Liz. Young-me's face was scrunched up in pain and tears were flowing down my cheeks. The words of the conversation he was having on the phone with Sarah filled my ears: "I'm sorry, Danny," Sarah was crying too and it was enough to make me tear up. "I can't keep going like this. It is too hard and I don't ever get to see you. I do love you, but I can't do this." The audio faded back out and I was left standing there watching young-me's heart shatter.

I looked up at my guide with tear-filled eyes and asked, "What happens next?"

He looked back and replied, "You lose contact. Yeah, you talk every now and then, but you fall into the ex-lover stage and can never get back the friendship you had."

I looked back at the still picture of young-me broken and in pain. I had lost her friendship again. This time, I wasn't angry. I was too heart-broken for young-me to be angry. I asked, without taking my eyes off of young-me, "You said there were three possible outcomes?"

"Yes," my guide replied. "Come, I will show you the last one, but I'm warning you now. This will be the hardest one to see."

My heart sank even lower. How much worse could it get? I've already lost her twice. Dread filled my mind as the picture rewound and young-me was once again asking Sarah to the prom...

That Which Never Was (Part 1)

Danny looked down at his favorite picture. It was taken at his senior prom five years ago. He laughed as the tears filled his eyes with the memories of that amazing night. One of his closest friends won Prom King as a darkhorse entry started by his sophomore date, but whenever Danny looked at this picture, all he saw was the indecision and goofy grin he wore. He knew what he wanted, what he should have done, but all of that was pushed aside due to some sense of chivalry and respect that has haunted him since.

Right before Danny's junior year, his parents moved to another state and Danny had to go. Danny was excited about the move, but he really didn't want to leave Liz. Liz was the "One," or, so Danny thought in high school. They continued to date throughout high school, though Danny never had the chance to go back and see her. It was hard, and they had some rough times, but he really loved her. Time was coming up for prom and Danny was planning on going back and taking Liz to her prom. His parents helped and bought the plane ticket for him to go. They wanted to help him as much as they could. So, it was set. He would go back and take Liz to her prom. One day while talking to his friends at lunch, they asked him if he was going to their prom. "I don't know guys," he said. "I'm gonna be spending a lot of money taking Liz, and there really isn't anyone for me to take here."

His friends wouldn't take that as his final answer and they kept asking and, really, begging him to go. "It won't be the same without you, man," Kevin said the next day. "You really should think about going. It will be an absolute blast. Come, please." Danny looked at his friend, and thought about it. "I'll think about it, but I don't know if I'll be up for another one. I don't even like to dance," Danny replied.

Then, one day, after school, one of the groups he helped out with had a meeting. After the initial meeting, they broke up into groups to talk about planning for next year. Many of the leaders and planners were graduating, himself included, and they wanted to get a list of ideas for the next year to help ease the younger students into leadership. So Danny, Kevin, Alisha, and Sarah got in a group. Two seniors and two sophomores. Kevin liked Alisha, and we were all pretty sure Alisha liked Kevin back. We were so certain of this that we joked with him about it constantly. It never failed, in every situation, Danny, Logan, James, or Tyler made a joke about them. Kevin actually got so fed up with the jokes that he asked Alisha to prom and she, of course, said yes.

Anyways, the group was a weird matching of people, aside from the Kevin-Alisha thing. Kevin and Alisha were great friends with Sarah already, and with Danny, but Danny and Sarah didn't know each other, but they soon got to be good friends. They talked every chance they had and hung out as often as they could. Danny couldn't help but like her. Danny hadn't forgotten about Liz, though. He knew that he couldn't break up with her, she was too important to him. She was the "one." He had to put a definitive term on his relationship with Sarah. He began to look at Sarah as his little sister, and, so, that's how he defined their relationship. He would be her big brother. He decided to go to both proms, and he took Sarah as his date, knowing that would be a safe choice.

Time came for his trip back to Liz for her prom. He left, had an amazing weekend, and came home. The first person he wanted to see that Monday morning, though, was Sarah. He wanted to talk to her about her weekend, and what she did. The last few weeks before his prom went by. The whole time, he felt something changing in him, but he couldn't allow himself to have it change. He went to Liz for her prom. He did that just for her because she loved him and he wanted her to be happy. Danny couldn't bring himself to break up with her now, he was even more connected than before. So he willed his feelings into not changing, or so he thought.

The night of prom came. The whole group went together, which was good. It made the night all the better, but Danny still wanted some alone time with Sarah. When he went to pick her up, he fought the nerves the whole way. "Sarah's like my little sister. It would just be weird," Danny told himself. He parked and walked up to her front door with the corsage in his hand. He knocked on the door and, when it opened, he was blown away. Her black hair was up and curled revealing her neck, and the blue of her dress contrasted against her skin beautifully. It took a second, but finally he said, "Hey."

"Hi," Sarah said. Danny looked at her for a little bit longer, and then said, "Here, this is for you," and handed her the corsage. Sarah blushed a little and said thanks very sheepishly. "You look beautiful," Danny said. Sarah blushed again and, once again, said thanks in a sheepish voice. "I guess we should get going, Alisha and Kevin will be waiting." They left her house and met the rest of the group and went through the rest of the night. Danny and Sarah laughed with everyone else and danced when appropriate, but Danny felt a pull in his gut wanting something more.

The night passed, too quickly. It seemed like it was over far too soon. James offered to have everyone come over to his house for the "after-party" which would consist of movies and snacks until you wanted to leave. Danny hoped that Sarah would go, but her dad wouldn't let her, so he took her home to say goodnight. While standing on her doorstep, Danny felt the urge to lean down and kiss her. It pulled at his gut, willing his face to go forward, but he fought through it and decided not to. And that has been his single greatest regret.

He went through graduation and that summer being her big brother, but wanting more. He went off to college and visited Liz, and about a month later, broke up with her. He went through two more girlfriends, and fell in love with both of them, but neither one worked out. It has left him, sitting on his bed, looking at the picture of him and Sarah, wondering what could have been.

It got to be too much for him. He put the picture down and lay his down on the pillow and prayed quietly, "God, this doesn't leave me alone. I don't know what to do. I feel like if I know what might have happened, I'd be ok. Please, God, show me what might have happened." After he finished praying, Danny closed his eyes and fell asleep.

His dream started out like this: "Danny. I will show you what could have happened, but you mustn't dwell on this. And do not linger on the thought that what you feel is still possible. That is a different matter altogether, and I will not grant that wish..."

Lover (Part 3 of 3)

"Why, Dad? Why did he choose Her?! I chose Her first! She's mine!" The Son could hardly stand still. His eyes were wet with tears. He finally was able to talk to Her, but all She said was, "That isn't my name. My name is Harlot," every time He addressed Her. She wouldn't let Him speak. She wouldn't let Him explain. She was only caught up in the foul, loathsome thief. She called to him like he was Her lover. How could she not remember the love He had given Her first?

"Patience, My Son," His Father said calmly. "She will see your love for Her. She will know how much you care." The Son nodded at His Father and sighed deeply. He, then, walked away to try and find Her again. "Be careful, My Son. That beast is looking for a way to make you fall."

The Son knew this. In fact, the loathsome creature had already tried. The Son neared the water's edge and looked up, as He had every day before. He searched far and wide for Her, and, at last, He spotted Her. She sat near the water, only 100 yards away, and the foul beast was no where to be seen. The Son walked over to Her in order to talk, but as He neared, the beautiful Woman looked up with tears in Her eyes. "Go away!" She screamed at Him. "Look what talking to you gets Me!" She showed Him Her arms and legs. He saw bruises spotted over them, and, He too, began to cry. "Why are you crying?" She asked harshly. "These are not your burdens, nor are they from your hand. I disobeyed my lover, my Cad. This is my just reward!"

The Son listened in horror at Her warped and twisted words. "No. It isn't your just reward," He said quietly. "You deserve more, my--"

"DO NOT SAY THAT NAME!" She was yelling again. "My name is Harlot! I am not that foul name you say!" She stood up quickly, then, and ran off into the wood. Her sobs and cries of anguish came loud through the trees.
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"It is time, Father! He is hurting Her. That foul beast is beating Her! I cannot stand it! Let me go and claim My Bride!" The events of that afternoon hurt the Son deep in His chest. It brought out feelings of pain and anger so deep, that He wasn't sure that they were His feelings.

"Yes, Son. It is time. You are ready, but remember this: You cannot touch him. You may only touch the Woman. Go, now, and be strong, My Son. She will love you."

The Son, determined now, ran back out towards the water. His anger and desire and jealousy pushed Him to the breaking point, but He ran faster still. He was weakened when He found Her, yet, He knew He could do this. For Her. For His Father.

"Why have you come back?" The tears still had not stopped flowing down Her cheeks, and now, there was blood on cheek as well. "He will only beat Me again! Do you delight in my pain?"

The question startled the Son. "No! Far from it!" It was time to tell Her. "I hate Your pain, more than My own. I despise Your tears of sorrow. As to why I am back, I have come back for You." He let that statement sink in for Her. "I have come to take You home, away from the beast you call Cad. He does not love or deserve you, but I do. I love You more than My life. Your redemption has always been My purpose." A smile came across His face as He said those last words, for He had an idea. A pleasant idea, but it had to be done quickly. "You, Beloved, are My Prize! You are what I will gladly die for." The Woman said nothing. She stared at the Son in shock at His bold words. At that moment, He matched His bold words with a bold, unexpected action. He took Her in His arms and kissed Her lips. All the passion He had saved up came through in this moment.
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Harlot couldn't believe her ears. He loved her? What she had always desired was true? She was in shock. She couldn't believe it. Was that how He truly saw her? As His Beloved? He couldn't, though! She was dirty. Unclean. A harlot. How could He love her? She looked into His deep eyes and found herself drowning in them. The desire was there. The fervor for her she could clearly see. He really would forgive anything and do anything for her. She knew she didn't deserve Him, but she wanted Him. The next thing she knew, He had her wrapped in His arms and His lips were pressed tightly against hers. The joy of that moment surpassed all of the pain she had ever felt. She felt at home in His arms.

The kiss was cut off too quickly. He smiled wildly at her. She smiled back at Him. She knew, now, her Lover. As soon as she thought the word concerning Him, her mind filled with images that she did not recognize. The one that lingered the longest was one of her in His arms again, but she was without clothes as when she first awoke. His smooth voice said quietly to her, "Wait for me, here. I will return for you." Realization hit her between her eyes. He was calling for her when she first awoke! He had always loved her and had searched and fought for her the whole time! Her mouth dropped open in surprise and understanding, but He just smiled wider.

A rough voice cut through the quiet. "What are you doing with HIM?!" She turned to see Cad walking towards them, visibly furious. "Leave Her alone, beast," the velvet voice said. "She is mine and She always has been." The color of Cad's face turned a deeper red to an almost black. A snarl ripped from Cad's chest and his eyes turned black. He pulled a knife out from behind his back at leapt at her. The knife was aiming right for her, but she soon only felt the grass on her back. She looked back to where she was standing to see Him, her Lover with the knife sticking out of His chest. Blood poured from His wound and covered the ground below Him. He looked at her and smiled. "I told you I would die for you. Wait for me, Beloved." Then He fell to the ground, dead.

A scream of pure agony ripped from her chest, but it was coupled by a scream much rougher and another so loud and painful that it shook the Earth. It was as though the earth was crying for justice. After her scream broke off, she looked and saw Cad as he truly is. Dead black skin with dead red eyes. All his beauty was stripped away leaving him exposed. She stared in horror at him and saw the pain in his dead eyes. He turned and ran away. He seemed afraid to be in this place any longer. After he entered the cover of the trees, she turned her eyes and attention back to her Lover. Tears, once more, fell from her eyes. Sobs broke loose from her chest. A calm, soothing voice reached her, "Do not weep, Daughter. For He will return for you. He died to free you so that you could live to love Him."

After these words were spoken, the wind blew and her pain eased. She raised her face into the breeze and welcomed it on her cheeks. After the breeze died away, she looked back down to her Lover's body, but it was not there. The pool of blood stayed and the knife had been removed, but the body was gone. Panic gripped her and she began to cry once more. She had only just remembered her Lover, but now, He was dead and she couldn't even bury the body.

"Don't cry," a softer, gentler voice said. "Everything is right, now." She turned to look at the voice. She felt her whole body lift off the ground. He was there! Her Lover HAD come back. "How," she asked suddenly. "You were dead! How are you here now?"

"I had to die. If I didn't, you would still not be free. My Father looked upon My sacrifice with favor. I did it correctly. I did it for My Beloved." He bent down and kissed her again softly. "Now, and I know this will seem cruel, but I must go. I must see to Our house. I want it to be perfect for you, My Beloved. My Bride. Wait for Me, here. Do not forget Me!" Then, He disappeared.

She didn't have time to agree or to protest, but she knew she would remember Him. How could she not? So, she waited, not always patiently, but she waited. Men came by, but she did not notice them. Her eyes were fixed on where her Lover said to wait. Time passed, but she hardly noticed. She was fixated upon her Lover. One morning, she awoke as the sun came rose across the water. She stretched her arms and stood to stretch her legs. Then, the voice she had waited for spoke, "Hello, My Beloved. It is time. Come, My Wife, let Us go home." She grabbed His outstretched hand, pulled Him close, kissed His lips, and said, "Yes, My Lover, My Husband. I am ready to go home."

They turned and walked towards the sun, across the water, and went home.

"Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the Church and gave Himself up for Her."
- Ephesians 5:25. Bottom line: The Church is the Bride of Christ and He died to set us free so that we could live to love Him.

Cad (Part 2 of 3)

He sat with his back resting against something. He couldn't tell what it was. A pervasive darkness covered his eyes. If it wasn't for the knowledge of his muscles working, he wouldn't even have known if his eyes were open or not. He turned his head in all directions possible, hoping for a light to break into the darkness. But there was nothing. He feared standing, for fear he would fall even further into nothingness. The events leading up to this were clear in his head and played in an endless cycle.

"Get out!" The Voice roared with such authority that Cad could barely whisper his response; a response that landed him here in this blackness. Say what you want about Him, but the Old Man could get angry. Cad closed his eyes in a deep depression and began to cry, again. He screamed out in rage, mostly directed to the Old Man, but also to the Brat and himself.

As his scream died, Cad opened his eyes again and saw a light growing. "Finally," he thought, "I'll be able to see something in this wretched place!" Just as he finished his thought, though, the light broke out over the ground and revealed the second most beautiful sight Cad had ever seen. She stood there, with the Brat. "Perfect! I still can't get away from Him!" Hate seethed out of every possible place. The two looked so happy; so in love it was disgusting.

Cad walked slowly toward the couple, trying to decide what he would do. He wasn't exactly sure of how he would do it, but he would steal the Girl from Him. As he neared, Cad caught the last of what the Brat was saying to Her, "Don't fear, my Love. I will come back to this place for you. Just remember Me and My love. It won't be long." With that, the Brat kissed Her and walked away. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. This place was for Her and She was for the Brat. The desire to have Her drove Cad insane. Her beauty was incomparable to anything in this place, and Cad vowed to destroy it. Her innocence was his for the taking. Cad smiled to himself and walked forward.

"Hello, lovely," Cad said, purring as if he was calling a cat. She smiled at him, but said nothing. "What," Cad asked, hurt. "Do you not have anything to say? You sure looked friendly with Him." Cad sneered the designation and refused to name the Brat. She looked down at her feet and said nothing. Cad, though, was determined. He continued coaxing Her and, after a while, began a conversation. Soon, they were walking and talking about everything.

"How is it that I do not know who you are," She asked after a few trips around the small lake.

"Because He doesn't want you to know me."

"Why not," she asked. "You don't seem bad and you are very nice."

"I do not know, love. Perhaps He doesn't trust you? Or, perhaps, He doesn't want you to know anything else?" That answer left Her thinking. Cad was sure he almost had Her. "Would you like to know me more? I can show so many things that He never would."

Her eyes lit up and turned the brightest blue with excitement. "Yes! I would love to!"

"Come, then. I will give you food and rest, and you will know me." Cad led Her into the forest and plucked an apple from a tree, whispered an incantation over it, and gave it to Her. She bit deeply into the apple and Cad watched Her eyes turn from the brightest blue to a dead, pale blue in a second. Cad smiled at his cleverness and said, "Come. You must rest now." He lay Her down behind a bush and let Her sleep.

While She slept, Cad whispered over Her. "You are now called Harlot. You are dirty. Used. Unwanted. He does not call for you. He calls for someone else. He doesn't want you." After he said these things, he let Her sleep.

A few hours later, Cad returned. He watched the Brat walk right past Harlot calling her by her other name. Cad chuckled inwardly and approached the woman crouching behind the bush and covered in leaves. "Harlot," he called softly. The woman turned to face him. The smile that was on her face fell into a disappointed grimace. Cad smiled, for he truly had her now.

Harlot (Part 1 of a 3 part story)

Tears filled the woman’s eyes. She was different, changed, but she did not know why. Something felt different. She could not tell if it was her, or the atmosphere of where she was. Everything just felt weird, empty. She was in the same place as before she woke up, it felt oddly familiar, but different.

She got up to walk around, but even that was awkward. Everything felt heavy, like time had slowed down and gravity was thrust down upon her. She stumbled often, searching, always searching. She walked down the lake shore, eyes roving the tree line for her lost—something. Everything felt so foreign! She trudged on through the heavy sand while the tears finally found form and rolled down her cheeks. A sob tried to break through her mouth, but she kept it locked inside. She knew if she let one through, then another would escape, and then she would fall into a helpless, useless, worthless state of being.

To her left, in the tree line, she heard a branch snap. A cold shiver ran through her body as a slight breeze blew in from her right. She rubbed her arms to warm herself. Her skin felt icy and damp. She looked down at herself to see why she was so cold. The water from the lake lapped at her feet silently, her arms and legs had cold bumps all over them, and her stomach was—uncovered. Her whole body was uncovered! "That is why I am cold," she thought, "I’m—I’m naked."

Panic replaced the cold she felt. She was naked, and someone could see her. Her mind began to race and her heart began to pound in her chest. She ran towards the nearest covering and hid behind it. A few minutes later, a man walked near her hiding spot. He, too, was uncovered, but He saw no shame in it. He did not dive behind a bush. Perhaps He did not realize it yet. He called for someone, but it was not her. She had no memory of another woman, but was certain this man was calling for someone else. She was naked, dirty, shamed. Who would ever want someone like that? He continued calling a name, but it was not hers. “Harlot” never left His lips. She only knew herself as “Harlot,” that was her name, not this word the man called.

The man walked closer to Harlot’s spot, and she cringed and scooted farther and farther back into the brush. He kept calling that hideous name though, and jealousy flooded her heart at the sound of that name. Harlot wanted this man. She wanted to be the object of His desire, but He called for another. She would show Him, though. Once she covered herself, she would devote herself to winning His affection!

The man left her, finally. Harlot looked out from her spot and saw that He was, indeed, gone. She immediately started working on fashioning some sort of covering for herself. She gathered a large amount of long-veined leaves and smaller, but adequate sized leaves. She broke off a small twig and started punching holes in the smaller leaves near the top. After doing that, she took the long-veined leaves and began to tear them and rip them into thin enough strips so that it will be able to pass through the holes in the small leaves making long rows of leaves attached together making a rough attempt at coverings. She ran the rows of leaves around her torso, each side fully reaching around and overlapping. She made several more rows; enough to cover from her armpits to above her stomach and from her waist to her mid-thigh. She then tied the rows covering her chest together forming one piece and the rows covering her waist together forming a second. Harlot’s tension and shame fell when she finally settled into her coverings. Now, she could face Him, and deserve Him. Her heart began to get lighter, she felt a little less dirty. She stepped out into the sunlight and basked in the warm rays.

A voice broke the silence behind her. "Harlot." Finally, He called her. Harlot smiled as she turned to face Him, but, it was not Him. Now that she thought about it, the voice that called was completely different as well. His voice was smooth and sweet. This other voice was rough and harsh. This second man was decent looking, and, to Harlot's great pleasure, clothed as she was. "How is it you know my name, sir?" Harlot searched the man's eyes for any type of recognition.

"Come now, Harlot. Do you not know me? Have you not already lay with me?" Harlot's mind spun. Is this man...could this man really be the one she was to be with? She, tentatively and suspiciously continued the conversation. By the end, however, she was certain that this man, he called himself Cad, was her friend and, perhaps more than that.

Unwrapped Presents

It sat under the tree with my name on it. I wanted so bad pick it up and shake the package to get a hint, but was afraid that it was breakable. I wanted even more to rip the gold and silver-starred paper off the box and find out what it was, but, if I did that, my parents would, probably, ground me. So, there I sat, day in and day out, waiting the two weeks before Christmas to see if I could, by some small chance, get a clue as to what lay under that festive decor.

As Christmas day drew near, the number of presents under the tree began to grow and grow. Several of them had my name written on the tag, but none of these interested me as much as this first box. Two days before Christmas, I could no longer stand it. I had to do something to get a hint. I pulled out a ruler from my room and sat down to take the measurements of the box. It wasn't large, just eight inches long. It was four inches across and about four inches deep. It felt as though it weighed a couple of pounds, but I couldn't be sure without putting it on a scale, and I was not going to attempt to take a present from under the tree and weigh it and try to put it back without my parents noticing. I considered the list I gave my parents earlier in the month and tried to match it with something on there, but I came up empty. This puzzle kept me awake most of that night. It bothered me that I did not know what it was, but, finally, after hours of thought and self-argument, I fell asleep.

I awoke the next day, Christmas Eve, excited and anxious for the evening to come. It is tradition in my family to open one gift on Christmas Eve as an appetizer to the entree of Christmas Morning. I semi-patiently waited through the day, enjoying the football games and other activities of the day. The time came for our Christmas service at church, and we all loaded up and went. My sister, though, said she would meet us there soon, so we went on ahead and she followed, not even a minute later.

I asked her when we got to the church why she waited one more minute, but she acted like she didn't hear me and ignored the question. My answer, though, came when we got home. She had pulled a large box out, from who knows where, and put it next to the tree. It was wrapped in shiny silver paper and had a large red bow on it. I went over and looked at the tag next to the bow. It had my name on it and I was immediately intrigued. The small gold and silver package was pushed from my mind at the intrigue of this large gift. In that second, I decided to open this large package from my sister. So, a few minutes after my whole family sat down, the unanimous decision was it was time to open our one present. When it came to my turn, I tore into the paper. What it revealed was a new flat screen TV, for the apartment I just rented, and a blu-ray player. Excitement rolled through me! I couldn't believe my luck. It was the one thing I wanted most that year. For the rest of the night, my family and I talked and laughed and fiddled with/read about our new gifts, but it soon came time for bed. That night passed much quicker and more peaceful than the previous now that the small, curious package was out of my head.

The next morning, I was woken by my dog. My sister let her in and she jumped onto my bed. This, obviously, was meant for me to get up because it was time for the rest of the presents. I had fewer presents that morning than the rest of my family (due to the cost of the single gift my whole family chipped in on), but I didn't mind. It was nice to have what I was given. Finally, I came to the small, curious, gold and silver package that perplexed me for the previous week or more. As I held it in my hands, all the feelings brought on by this package flooded me once again. In excited anticipation I ripped the paper off the box to reveal an ordinary brown box. I searched for the tape that sealed the opening. I quickly sliced through the tape with scissors and pulled the contents of the box out. To my surprise, and enjoyment, spilled several blu-ray movies.

Suddenly, I was very thankful I chose the large package over this one the previous night. If I would have insisted on opening this one first, the other present would have been ruined! I would have enjoyed the movies if I had opened them the previous night, but, since I didn't already have a blu-ray player, I would have known I was getting one. The real gift, the TV and blu-ray player, made this package of my borderline obsession so much greater!

So, at this Christmas season, I must ask the question: What is it that you want most? What in this life do you want most? Is it peace? Happiness? Love? And, how do you know that those are not part of a larger, more meaningful gift? Are those the "gift" you want, or are they simply accessories to the true gift to make it better?

"I have come so that you may have life, and life to the fullest."--Jesus

The Long Hill

My mom was overly cautious. She always yelled after me to be safe while riding my bike. "Watch out for that long hill, son!" That was always her final warning as I rode away. I always heard her, but I never really listened. On my bike, I was free. I knew she really didn't want me on the hill, but, it never failed, everyday I found myself standing at the top of the hill, straddling my Mongoose 21-speed. I went to it 6 or 7 times before my first attempt down. Each of those times, I chickened out before I could push myself over the edge. I remember the first time I went over the edge, though. I was nervous and scared. I pulled my hand off of the front brake, just in case I panicked. I didn't want to go over the handle bars because I pulled the front brake.

I didn't pedal. I just let gravity pull me down. I started going faster and faster. It scared me too much, so I pulled hard on the back brake and eased over to the grass so I could get off. I let the fear of what could happen stop me from going through with it and ended the ride too quickly. I walked my bike up the hill, got back on, looked behind me at the hill and then turned around and went home discouraged and ashamed of what I had done.

But, like before, I kept going back. It took me another two weeks before gathering the courage to try again. This time, I didn't ease into it, afraid that I would lose my resolve again like last time. But, in my haste, I forgot about the front brake. I started going down too fast, and went to hit the brake and tapped the front brake first. The front tire locked up and almost tipped the bike up in the air, but I let go quickly and hit the back brake. Again, I made it to the side before the end of the hill. Again, I walked my bike back up the hill. Again, I felt discouraged. Again, I went home unaccomplished.

However, day after day, I found myself staring down this long hill. This adversary of mine that I could not defeat, and, day after day, I went home without trying to ride the hill to the bottom. A month after my previous attempt, I found myself, unthinkingly, riding to the infamous hill. When I realized my destination, I gritted my teeth and vowed myself I wouldn't back out this time. I threw caution to the wind and went sailing over the edge and down the hill. The exhilaration of it thrilled me! The excitement that came along with this ride, fueled by adrenaline was incredible! It was like no other feeling I had known before. I finally realized what I had been missing out on! Suddenly, though, something on my left caught my attention. It flew past my eyes, so I turned my eyes back to the road down the hill. I saw the bottom of it! I was almost there! I was finally going to make it! Then, the turn at the end of the hill grabbed my attention. Panic overtook me. I had to slow down! I wasn't going to make that turn! I grabbed for the brakes, but I caught the front brake first. The front tire seized up and flipped me over the handle bars. I rolled down the hill, hearing the sickening crunches coming from my body as my bones broke. Finally I came to rest at the bottom of the hill with my bike laying on top of my broken body.

Luckily for me, my dad was driving past on his way home from work. He saw me laying on the ground, broken, and stopped. He ran over towards me from his truck. In my semi-conscious state, I knew that he would be upset with me. I knew he would be made that I tried to pull such a stupid stunt, but I heard nothing from him. Instead, he picked me up in his strong arms and sat me in his truck. He ran back and threw my bike in the bed and sped to the hospital. The doctors there were upset with him that he drove me himself instead of calling an ambulance, but he didn't care. He could hardly stand seeing me in that state for the 10 minute trip. There was no way he could handle just sitting with me until the ambulance got there unable to do anything.

The extent of my injuries were far deeper than physical. The broken leg, collar bone, wrist, fractured ribs, split head, and hundreds of bruises would all heal with rest. The true injuries wouldn't show up until later.

I took my time and healed. I had to get a new bike, too. My other was ruined. It was unable to be fixed and ridden again. I even waited several months after the doctors said it was physically okay for me to ride, to start riding again. After I did, I soon found myself returning to the cursed hill. It was the flame to my moth. I was drawn to it, to its allure and its frustration. My first trip back, was just to see it again. A scouting mission, if you will. It looked even more terrifying than before. I quickly turned around and went home.

The next time out there, I once again found myself on the edge. I took my foot off the pedal to steady myself, but as I did, my shoelace caught on the pedal and I fell over. My bike crashed down on top of my leg. I pushed the bike off of me and got up. My leg was bleeding and my bike was scratched up, but I got back on and rode home with pain shooting through my leg the whole time. At home, I examined my bike. The scratches had made it lose the gleam of a new bike. It was no longer perfect, but I decided a few scratches wasn't worth getting rid of a bike over. I could still ride it.

So, everyday for months I found myself staring down the hill. I had seen other people fly past me and go right down without any problems, but I couldn't seem to do that. I wanted to so bad. I wanted to make it down the hill and turn the corner. I had heard what it was like on the other side of the turn, but I wanted to know what it looked like myself. That, more than anything, kept drawing me back to that wretched hill.

After months of staring down the hill and watching people go past me, I decided I should try again. So, I did. I took off down the hill, determined to make it to the bottom and turn the corner. As I sped down the hill, I spotted a rock in the middle of the road. I swerved to the left to avoid it, but at the speed I was traveling, I couldn't control the bike. I went off the road and into the ditch. My bike hit the far wall of the ditch, bending the tire and pushing the front of the frame back. After it hit the wall, I fell off into the tall grass. I was unhurt, save a couple bruises that would heal quickly, but, once again, my bike was beyond repair. I carried it back up the hill and home.

Soon after, I got another new bike, and, soon after, I found myself staring down the hill. The emotional injuries of my two falls plague my mind. Every time I stand at the top of the hill, the memories of the falls replay in my mind and I back away and go home.

So, here I am, straddling my third bike as I watch my friends go over the edge without hesitation. Some make it to the bottom and some don't. Those that make it to the bottom turn the corner and those that don't make the bottom come back and try again. As I watch friend after friend fly down the long hill, I can't help but think back to the first attempt I made. I backed off, afraid of what could happen, even though that was probably the most ready I was to make the trip down the hill. I don't know if I would have made the corner and been okay, but I can't help but wonder about it. I want so bad to push myself over the edge and go down, but I'm so afraid of wrecking again that I freeze...



God forgives. God redeems. God loves. It doesn't matter if you've messed up before or not, God still loves. It doesn't matter if it's your first "bike" or your tenth. Don't let that be a hindrance. I'm trying not to...