Friday Fiction: Who Are You Calling Skinny?

Our hostess for Friday Fiction this week is Karlene, on her beautiful new blog Homespun Expressions. Thanks Karls! Be sure to stop by and pay her a visit. You can find links to more short fiction at the bottom of her post.

My offering today was one of the most researched pieces I've written. It fell off the bottom of the charts in the FaithWriters Challenge, but I'm fond of it. I hope you enjoy!

----

Who Are You Calling Skinny?

Shana stepped gingerly onto the scale and grimaced. One pound? After an hour of jogging, only ONE pound? She grabbed her thick bathrobe from the hook, jerked the door open, and stormed down the hallway toward her mom’s room.

“Everything ok, hon?” her mom, Ellen, called from the kitchen.

“I think the battery’s dieing on the scale in there. I’m gonna use yours, ok?” The odor of whatever was cooking made Shana want to vomit.

She closed the master bedroom door behind her, shed her robe, and went into the bathroom. Should rename this the “mistress bedroom”. There’s no master in this house anymore. She used the bathroom, voiding any possible extra weight.

Yah, better. Three pounds is more like it.

She drank greedily from the tap, then reclaimed her robe and wrapped it around her diminishing frame. Opening the bedroom door, she was assaulted by the food stench. “Thanks, mom. Your scale’s fine.”

“Dinner will be ready in a minute. It’s your favorite – meatloaf.”

“Great, thanks.” No WAY will I eat that. Does she realize how much fat’s in hamburger? She probably made mashed potatoes too. This is gonna be real fun.

Shana dug her ankle weights out from under her mattress and strapped them on. The sweats she donned not only disguised her body, but also hid the weights. The last thing she needed was her mom aggravating her about losing weight. What does Miss ‘I Only Care About You’ know from skinny, anyway? I’m fat. Fat fat fat. I’m a whale. She fought a wave of dizziness as she stood. After she popped her third diet pill of the day, she joined her mom in the kitchen.

“Oh good, just in time to set the table.” Ellen finished tossing a salad while Shana got two plates from the cabinet.



“Would you say the blessing tonight, Shana?”

“Ok, whatever.” “Dear God, thank you for this food, and please bless dad as he eats dinner alone in his little apartment. Amen.” Shana glowered at her mom, daring her to say something.

“That was nice, dear. Ok, let’s dig in.”

Shana put a small slice of meatloaf and a smaller portion of potatoes on her plate. A slightly larger helping of salad followed. Shaking the bottle of dressing over the lettuce made it look like some fell onto the salad. She painstakingly cut the meat into tiny squares, and stirred the white mound of potatoes, covering a few pieces of meat in the process. She took a bite of salad, and proceeded to chew it exactly 32 times.

“Are you feeling alright, hon? You’ve been looking awfully pale lately.” Her mom’s worried look only infuriated Shana.

“Maybe a stomach bug. Nothing you need to stress over. Hey, mom, would you get me some more water?”

While Ellen’s back was turned, Shana slipped some meatloaf into her napkin. “Thanks. I’m really thirsty. Meatloaf’s good tonight.”


-------

“Girl! You’re getting’ too thin for your own good.”

“Are you kidding, Robin?” Shana gawked at her best friend. “You’re startin’ to sound like my stupid mom. Besides, aren’t we in this diet thing together?”

“Well, yah, but… there’s dieting and then there’s starving yourself.” Robin eyed Shana up and down. “Your legs look like two sticks comin' out of those shorts.”

“Fine. I’ll cover them up so you don’t have to see them.” Shana cinched her weights around her ankles and pulled on her sweat pants. The two girls straggled behind the others leaving the locker room. “You’re still skinnier than me,” Shana added.

Robin grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her back into the locker room. “Come on, I want to show you somethin’.”

They stood in front of the full-length mirror. “What, you want me to look at myself?” Shana snorted. “I can see – I’m fat.”

“But, Shana, that’s not what I see. Take those big ole pants off. Now that baggy shirt.” Robin followed suit, stripping off her own shirt. “Now, look at us together in that mirror. Look at my legs. Look at yours. You don’t need a measuring tape to see who's are smaller. Look at our tummies, our arms. Who’s skinner? Open your eyes, girl.”

Shana stared glumly, mutely, at the reflection.

“Can’t you see it? Do you not see that you are scrawny? Bony? Ee-may-cee-ated. I love you, ya know. I wanna be skinny, too, but you are treading in dangerous waters. An’ I love you too much to watch ya drown.”


© 1/24/2008

Catrina Bradley

"God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes."
Psalm 18:24 (Msg)

Friday Fiction: Embodiment of a Miracle

Friday Fiction




Hurray!!! It's Friday!!!!

Thanks for stopping in to read my contribution to Friday Fiction, hosted this week by the amazing Vonnie (a new grandma btw). Please vist Vonnie's blog, My Back Door to read more short fiction. After you read her entry, click on the links at the bottom of her post to keep reading. You can join the fun, too, and get feedback on your fiction. Just add a link to your fiction on the MckLinky gadget.



The story-line for "Embodiment of a Miracle" was my husband's idea (he would be the "Bradley" part of Catrina Bradley). Brad was disappointed that I changed his ending, but to be honest I didn't remember that part when I was writing. It WAS really cool, and I may have to expand this and add it in before the last line. I was struggling to stay within the 750-word limit as it was.

Brad was more anxious for comments and for the results to come out this week than I was! Our story was well liked by the general FaithWriters public, but the competition was fierce for the "Birth" Challenge topic.

I had expected it to be low; I knew I missed the topic. Brad originally gave me this idea at Christmas, when the topic was Christmas Tree. I told him then it was too far off topic but he just thought I didn't want to write his idea. So this time I did write it - for him - and now he understands how important it is not to stray. And now he knows the feeling of having a story you LOVE not make the top 40. :-D

Anyway, if you're still reading,

EMBODIMENT OF A MIRACLE

The preacher drifted from candle to candle extinguishing the flickering flames, keeping a watchful eye on the stranger lingering in the back pew. The worn military jacket he clutched to his thin frame bore dark V's where insignia were once sewn on the arms; his posture of submission had altered little throughout the service. Unkempt hair cast shadows on his face, igniting the preacher's concern and curiosity.

"Merry Christmas, friend. Is there something I can pray about for you tonight?

The stranger lifted his head, revealing unfocused eyes and a furled brow. "Preacher, can I ask you something?" He rubbed his face with a dirty hand.

"Of course. What's troubling you?"

"Do you believe in miracles? I mean honest to God, real-life, miracles?"

"I believe anything is possible with God."

The stranger glanced around, and seeing no one else in the sanctuary, took a deep breath. "I've been selling Christmas trees down at the corner." He examined his grubby, sap-stained palms. "Used to be a doctor. A surgeon. Until drink got the better of me and I lost my license this past spring. Lost my wife not long after. Can't blame her for taking the kids and leaving. I've been trying to get my act together, but jobs and I haven't gotten along lately. God and I either, for that matter." He chanced a look at the preacher, and was encouraged by his caring eyes.

"Tonight, this 20-something woman, 'great with child' like Mary, comes waddling through the lot checking out the trees. I wonder why she waited until Christmas Eve to get a tree, especially in her condition, but I've learned not to ask questions. Hampers sales, you know?"

The preacher merely hummed, "Mmm," in response. He'd learned that interruptions hamper confessions.

The stranger continued. "She picked out a beauty - a 10-foot Frazier fir - and I offered to pull it out so she could see it from all sides. As she's rounding the back of the tree, she moans and grabs her belly. I think to myself, 'Not here; not now. I can't do this.'

"This is where it starts getting crazy." He paused, collecting his thoughts and gathering courage.

The preacher murmured, "Go on, friend; I'm listening."

Another deep breath filled the strangers lungs. "I heard this voice: 'Yes, you can. You are here for such a time as this.'

The preacher twitched.

"It wasn't in my head, Preacher, it was out loud. I swear it was. If the woman heard it, she gave no indication. That's when she dropped to her knees and shrieked. And that's when I started to panic.

"She yelled, 'Help me!' but my feet were frozen in place and my heart was in my throat. And I heard it again: 'You are here for such a time as this.'" The stranger closed his eyes and rushed on, his words coming out in a tumble.

"The tree, it started to glow. Then it started to change, morph, into sort of a man. But not a man. A God-man. He spoke. 'I am with you always.' The voice I'd heard - it was Him.

"Preacher, I knew who it was. I admit I'd had a few nips to take the chill off, or maybe more that a few, but I was NOT seeing things. I was seeing...and hearing...Jesus.

"I dropped to my knees beside the woman, and Jesus knelt beside me. The tremor left my hands for the first time in months, years maybe. The woman was crying, and babbling about how she wanted a Christmas tree before the baby was born, but I was only half listening. His voice overshadowed all other sounds. 'I am with you. I will never leave you.' His presence and His glow warmed me and calmed me. Together we delivered that baby.

"I wrapped him up in my coat, cut the cord with my tree saw, and dug out my cell to call for an ambulance.

"When I looked to Jesus for help, He was just a Christmas tree again. He spoke once more, but only in my head. 'Well done, good and faithful servant.'

The stranger pleaded, "You believe me, right? I'm not crazy? The woman...she never saw anything."

"Friend, God's ways are not our ways. Who's to say what's real, and what is vision?"

"Preacher, I know it was real. I asked what his name was, the baby. She said she hadn't decided until that moment. The perfect name had just come to her.

"Emmanuel."




***


Emmanuel: "God is with us"


© 8/28/09


Friday Fiction is the brainchild of Patty Wysong, aka Peej, whom I had the pleasure of meeting at the FaithWriters conference last month. She is a surprisingly normal woman, with a great sense of humor, who simply and deeply loves the Lord. :D  Pay her a visit at Patterings; you won't be disappointed.

By His Grace,

Catrina Bradley

"God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes."
Psalm 18:24 (Msg)

God-incidences: The Lord is My Shepherd

Today was not a good day.

Have you ever tried to control a computer without a mouse? Not easy.

I took yet another deep breath, looked at the clock, and then out the window to see if the IT guy was here yet. After seeing an empty driveway, my eyes blurred into the blinds. My inner voice breathed, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want."

Mmmm, yes, a comforting thought indeed. I had no idea why that verse came unbidden so strong and so loud in my thoughts, but my frenzied mind was able to connect it to my situation.

I had been thinking all day about last night's message: what we need before we can rebuild. One was to understand that God engineers our circumstances.

The Holy Spirit doesn't need my help to fix anything. My best move is to step back, be silent and listen, and absorb. Pastor C. spent a good bit of time emphasizing the "be silent and listen" part.

I've been a secretary since the days of DOS when a mouse was just an idea in some young geek's imagination, so I'm able to do most everything without one, and can work much faster without having to stop my fingers and move my hand from the keyboard. (I call myself the Keyboard Queen.) Still, I could NOT figure out how to get inside a Publisher text box.

Ok, so God engineered this circumstance. I had depleted my knowledge and ability bank, I had called for help; I had done all I could do. (God doesn't want us to be sluggards; He wants us to use the gifts and talents He gave us.) Now I need to get out of His way and let the circumstance unfold.

When I stepped back, and listened, I was able to recall the many things I could finish that didn't involved that particular task. The IT Guy showed up exactly when he was scheduled to, he found out what was wrong and fixed it. The phones were amazingly quiet the remaining 40 minutes, and I was able to complete most of my work.

This evening, after a long, much needed quiet-time with God, I checked my email. My mini-devotion verse was this:

"The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want."
-- Psalm 23:1


The prayer contains the following petition:

"Please help me hear your voice above the confusing
distractions around me."


Coincidence?

Godincidence.



Catrina Bradley

"God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes."
Psalm 18:24 (Msg)

Friday Fiction: Blighting

Welcome to Friday Fiction!!! Julie Arduini is hosting Fiction Friday today at her blog The Surrendered Scribe

If you enjoyed reading about Ralph's embarrassing moment last week, you'll definitely want to read this story of a newly wed Ralph, 20 years earlier. Also based on true life, but neither my "Ralph" nor his brother chew and spit. (Spit yes, but chew 'backy? no.)

***

Blighting

Woody gaped at his older brother. "What'er you talkin bout, Ralph? We grew up in South Carolina. We had winter. We even had snow, fer cryin out loud."

"Nah man, you don't understand." Ralph shook his head. "I'm talkin winter. Like nothin you ever felt before. So cold you could snap your ears clean off." He turned his head and spat into the ditch. "Made me wanna get outta that state as fast as I could. Don't care if I never go back there. Course Vikki'd have a conniption fit.

"'Christmas just isn't Christmas without snow, and cutting down our own tree, blah-blah-blah.'"

Ralph's whiny Vikki impersonation made Woody choke on his chaw laughing. Ralph smacked him on the back to clear the clog, and Woody managed to wheeze out, "Ah, man, you sound just like'er." A chortle started another coughing fit.

"Plus she don't want our kids to miss out on all that, either. So, as much as I hate it, I gotta go back." Ralph shuddered. "You just don't know, man."

"So tell me. What?"

"Well, there's the whole gettin in the car thing. No such thing as a garage in Iowa, near as I can tell. You'd think these people woulda figured it out by now, but no. If you can manage to turn the key in the lock without heatin it up with a lighter first, you jump in yer car as quick as you can. Course it don't take long for the frozen seat to freeze YOUR seat."

"Man," Vern said. "Sounds colder than I ever been."

"But that ain't the worst part. Poor Vikki."

"What?" Woody smacked his brother. "What happened to Vikki?"

"Nothin, Vikki's fine. It was her house."

"What was her house?"

Ralph nudged Woody. "Keep up man. The worst part.

"So anyways, me and Vikki get to her house, and before we're even outta the car, she says to me, 'I'm sorry. It's not the Ritz.'

"I tole her, 'Quit worryin about it - I didn't marry ya for yer money.' She smacked me for that, but at least she smiled.

"So we go in and meet her folks, and she's showin me around. She's got this pitiful look on her face. 'Course I knew why; she'd told me some about growin up there, so I wasn't that shocked. Still I could tell she felt kinda embarrassed."

"That bad, huh?" Woody launched another hawker into the dirt.

Ralph shrugged. "It's an old farmhouse in the Midwest. Ever seen Green Acres? But it din't bother me like she was afraid it would. And the wood stove in the kitchen kept the downstairs toasty."

"So it wasn't the worst part? What's the deal, man?"

"It was goin to bed that was the worst part." Ralph's eyes grew wide and he hugged himself.

"Vikkie asked if I'd rather sleep on a mattress on the living room floor or in her old bunk beds upstairs. I picked upstairs; her mom and dad'd be up early, and b'sides, Vikki did it for 18 years, I could do it for a week."

"Bunk beds, Bro? Seriously? Did ya share or split up?"

"Well, we started out split up. Vikki wanted to share, but I nixed that idea. Too cramped. She asked me, 'Top or bottom?' I picked bottom acourse.

"Now Vikki'd tole me 'bout her room bein so cold she'd had to scrape a hole in the frost to see out the window in the mornings. But I didn't figure it'd be that cold. I didn't even get undressed. Just dowsed the light and zipped up into the sleeping bag her mom'd put on the bed.

"Man, my teeth were loosenin up in my head, all that chattering they was doin. Vikki warbles, 'Night hon.'

"I'm a-shakin and a-shiverin, and I chatter,'Night.'

"I swear I hear her snicker.

"So I'm tryin to git thawed out and fall asleep, but every time I turn over, it feels like my face is layin smack dab on sheet of ice. Finally I say the heck with this. 'Git yer fanny down here ... and bring yer sleeping bag.' The body heat was good'n all, but still I didn't dare move outta the spot I got warmed up."

Woody thwapped a wad of tobacco into the weeds. "Body heat, huh? Finally, this story's goin somewheres."

"Naw, man, I din't even want to think about baring any skin. I snuggled into'er and finally started thawin out enough to whisper, 'I reckon we can come back next Christmas ... on one condition.

"We're stayin at the Motel 6."

© August 19, 2009

***
Catrina Bradley
"God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes."
Psalm 18:24 (Msg)

Friday Fiction: Usher Sunday

Welcome to Friday Fiction!!! Lynn Squire is hosting Fiction Friday today at her blog Faith, Fiction, Fun and Fanciful.

Surprise!! A brand new, never before posted story! The topic "Winter" came up at FaithWriters this week, and I let Screaming Muse take over. She had a blast, but didn't exactly stick to the topic. So YOU benefit!! Hope you enjoy this true story. (Yeah, I know, it's supposed to be Friday FICTION, so sue me. But hey, my husband's name isn't really Ralph; does that make it fiction? :) )

***

USHER SUNDAY

My Ralph, God bless him.

I was so proud that first Sunday worship service he served as usher at our new church. And I haven't grown any less proud of him as the Sundays have passed.

His southern charm and natural charisma, coupled with that killer smile, draws everyone in. I love to watch him stride up the left-hand aisle to the front of the church, his head forward but his eyes cutting to the usher in the right-hand aisle to make sure they are in unison.

My Ralph prefers comfort over class, but he also has the proper respect for the Lord to dress it up for worship on Sunday morning. Come Sunday morning, you'll usually see him sporting a sharp Polo shirt or a lightweight button down instead of his customary baggy t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops, but on his usher Sundays, he pulls out the big guns - a suit and tie.

Mmmm, how handsome my Ralph looks all decked out in his midnight blue suit with a just hint of a pinstripe. Your eyes are drawn to his face by his boisterous laugh, and held captive by his warm eyes. Oh, but I digress.

This past Sunday was one of Ralph's usher Sundays, and it also happened to be the first real day of winter - the first snowfall of the season. It rarely even gets cold enough to snow here in our neck of the south, let alone actually bring forth flakes, so you can imagine the ruckus snow makes.

Ah, yes, snow in south Georgia! Simply the forecast of flurries is enough to jam the grocery aisles with panicked shoppers who deplete the stores of the requisite bread and milk. After the panic is over, those of us who didn't rush out to stock our shelves now find ourselves in need of bread and milk, and alas, none can be found.

I'm still searching for the moral of that particular story.

But again, I digress.

So back to Ralph.

And the first "real" day of winter.

The day the midnight blue suit was left on the hangar; and Ralph reached instead for his brand new, never before worn, silk lined tweed suit. That particular shade of charcoal gray was as becoming on him as was midnight blue. Twenty-one years of marriage and my Ralph still throbs my heart. Mmmm.

I wouldn't have been surprised if the people around me were blinded the shine from my eyes. I watched Ralph stride up the left-hand aisle, pick up a gold offering plate, and make his way back down the aisle, walking tall and proud in his new clothes.

What is it about new clothes that lifts you up and makes you stand straighter, smile more, and have more confidence? What a grand feeling.

I could see by Ralph's face that he was riding that new-clothes high. The smiles he gave the little old ladies were more confident; his back was just a tad straighter. He walked like a man worthy of being respected.

His return trip to the altar to deposit the filled collection plates, and his final walk to the back of the sanctuary, were just as confident. Ah, my Ralph. How can I help but be proud of him?

I made sure to tell him that too, after we got home and were ditching our fancy clothes for sweats and heavy socks.

He laughed.

"No," I said, "I'm serious. You were so handsome in your new suit, and I couldn't quit smiling at you. You made me all warm inside despite the cold."

"That's not why I'm laughing."

"What then? Tell me. I want to laugh too."

Ralph laughed again. "So there I was, greeting people, walking up and down the aisle, standing beside the seated little old ladies and teenagers, handing them the plate..."

I butted in to reassure him. "I know! You were awesome."

"No, wait! Listen...so I go back to my seat, look down to adjust my jacket..." laughter interrupts and he can't go on.

"What!"

"Honey, my fly was open the whole time."


© August 21, 2009

***

Don't forget to visit Lynn's blog and read more fiction! You can play along, too if you'd like. Simply post your fiction story, and add your link to MckLlinky on her Friday Fiction post.

God Bless
Cat

"God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes."
Psalm 18:24 (Msg)

In and Out: My FaithWriters Conference Experenience

If I told you I had an experience that was totally out of this world, would you take me literally?

Well, it’s the truth.

Last weekend I attended the FaithWriters 2nd Annual Conference, and I got a taste of Heaven right in this broken, fallen world. The seminars were great, the speakers awesome, and the lessons valuable for any writer (Christian or not), but none of these are what will stay with me forever.

I’ve never been very good at being “in the world, but not of the world”. Last weekend, I didn’t have to worry about that. I was no longer “in the world”. I was immersed in the acceptance and love of Jesus Christ. I didn’t have to mind my p’s and q’s or fret over my “witness” to the unbelieving world. The world seemed to melt away as Heaven stretched out its arms and took me in.

When I did venture out, I still didn’t worry. Where two or more believers are gathered, you can be sure Jesus is there with them. And He was. Jesus went with us to restaurants, to Starbucks, and even just to the parking lot of the hotel.

You know that bushel basket that we are warned not to hide our light under? It disappeared. My light – Jesus – was shining bright.

I found out for the first time how easy it was to heed the advice of the author of Hebrews… when I’m in the midst of true Christ-followers …

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1

I KNOW that the Holy Spirit empowers me to “throw off everything that hinders”, even now, after I’ve been dumped headfirst back into the world. My prayer is that I will ALLOW Him to have power, that my fear of witnessing to the world and my worries of “what will they think?” will take a backseat.

Because you see, Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33

So what am I afraid of?

Cat

The Conference Crew

"God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes."
Psalm 18:24 (Msg)

Destiny (part 3): It's a Relationship Thing - Guest Blogger, Lisa Mikitarian

Welcome back Lisa Mikitarian, with the belated (but well worth waiting for) third installment of her "Destiny" series.

You can catch up here if you missed the first two chapters:

Part One: When Destiny Calls

Part Two: The Truth About Destiny

***

It's a Relationship Thing

We left off by looking forward to the destiny Christ laid out for mankind in the New Testament. Through His ministry we learn he is a Triune God—God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit. Distinct yet one. In communion with one another. From this we see that God is the author of relationships. Relationship is in His very nature.

In Genesis, God says that it is not good for man to be alone. When He sent his Son for the Salvation of man, He was inviting eternal relationship.

Our Destiny in Christ

That invitation for all mankind comes through Jesus Christ. We must choose it. For those of us who answer His calling, destiny becomes simple: we will be in relationship with our Father in heaven for eternity.

The apostle Paul reveals this destiny to us in the book of Ephesians 1: 5-10 (ESV)

In love he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

We are to be taken into the fold, adopted by the Father. When we are His, Satan has no claim on us. The possibility of sin exists, but we are no longer a slave to it. In the future we will have glorified bodies and sin will no longer be an option. The choice we make here is ratified in eternity.

A collective destiny?

Ephesians 4:1-7 (ESV) I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call— one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. But grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of Christ's gift.

These verses changed my perspective in life completely. I was no longer wrapped up in what I became, but instead, it was all about who I am in Christ with you, my fellow Christian. Out of the window tumbled aspirations to become a gymnast, or tennis pro. These goals were for my own glory. Even when we are working within the gifts God has given us, those gifts are simply “vehicles” for His purpose. There lies not our destiny. Instead, it lies in Christ, with Christ, alongside others who dwell in Christ, pointing the way for as many non-believers as possible.

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind...John Donne

This is selflessness, loving our neighbors as ourselves, laying our lives down for our brothers. This is love. This is God.

Augustine wrote that when Christians are in relationship with other Christians, they are directly involved with Christ, as Christ indwells the believer. So during my day, I’m in communion with Christ during my morning devotion. Yet, I’m also in communion with Christ when I go for a jog with my running buddy, Holly. She may not be perfected, but Christ resides in her. When we discuss problems, we are doing it in the Spirit of our Lord between us. That’s powerful. It makes me feel more responsibility in what I say and what I do.

Am I allowing Christ in me to be heard? Or does my sin nature take over everything in my world, adulterating my relationships?

Our world can be so cut-throat, each looking out for herself. I don’t want to envy you for what you have. I don’t want to think only one of us can “succeed,” and if you find success and get it there won’t be any left for me. I don’t want to try and snatch it up first and then withhold it from you. That is not part of my destiny.

But in a fallen world, it takes a close walk with God to remember.

In the last section, we’ll explore how being in relationship with others can actually help us determine our individual destinies.

***

Thanks for stopping in today! I'll be back soon with the conclusion. I'm looking forward to words of wisdom on relationships.

Until then, I'm keeping my eyes on Jesus, and getting ready for the FaithWriters conference August 7 & 8!!! Click here for the scoop. It's not too late to register. :-D




"God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes."
Psalm 18:24 (Msg)

You can read more inspired articles by Lisa Mikitarian at The Blog Squad, where she s a regular contributor.