Friday, March 26

Friday Fiction: Genesis: Morning Has Broken Me

Welcome to Friday Fiction! Today, I'm sharing my most recent entry, a fiction genre I like to call "Happy Sappy". If you wanna feel good story, read on.

Morning Has Broken Me

"Mommy, come look!" Bounce. "You gotta come see." Bounce bounce. "Come on Mommy, Get up," bounce, "get up," bounce, "get up!"

Grrr. Seriously, God? My grand plan to sleep in on my Saturday off had been thwarted. It appeared my exuberant five-year old was causing a small earthquake in the region of MaBedville.

I pulled the covers over my head and growled for real. "What little Bear is bouncing on Mamma Bear's bed?" My attempt at a roar was cut off when Beatrice squealed and plopped her entire 24 pounds on top of me.

"MomMY! Come ON!" She yanked at the covers, eliciting a wrestling match that, of course, I let my Beatle-Bear win. How could I not? Losing meant I got to look upon those big brown eyes swimming inside that swarming halo of golden tresses?

"Why?" I whined, "I don't wanna get up. Come on, snuggle with me, Beatle-Bear." I tried to pull her into a spoon, but she wouldn't have it.

"No, Mommy, you gotta come see. I found you a wow."

She hopped off the bed and tugged on my hand until I tumbled after her with a flop and let her drag me to her room. She pranced to the window and pointed. "See? See the wow?"

I stood beside her and gazed out at the morning. The sun had just peeped over the trees, painting a pastel backdrop on the sky, and dew sparkled like a web of diamonds spun over creation. God had, indeed, painted a wow.

I ran my hand over her tousled hair. "Thank you for showing me the sunrise, Beatrice. That's a pretty good wow." I bent down and kissed the top of her head, stifling a yawn.

"NO, Mommy, over there. See?" She was jumping up and down and pointing past me to the right.

I sidled over to stand behind her so I could see what her pudgy little finger was pointing at.

"See the wow?"

"Oh, wow! Yeah, Bea-Bea, I do, now."

I pulled her warm little body into my arms and was hypnotized by the sight. A dancing prism of colors spanned the dew-bejeweled trees at the side of the yard, creating a glittery rainbow across the windbreak.

My little Beatle-Bear spun around to face me. "You always show me the wows, Mommy. I wanna show you this time, kay?"

She grabbed my hand again and twisted around to point out the window again. "Now, look, Mommy. See it? Wow! It's the raimbove God's promise." She turned and looked up. "Now, I'm gonna pray just like you do, 'kay? Bow your head, Mommy." She took my other hand and watched to make sure I followed her command.

Tears dripped onto the front of my rumpled sleepshirt as my little one led me in prayer for the first time.

"Dear God,Thank you for wows. Thank you for painting raimboves and for promises and for loving us. Thank you for Mommy. Please tell Daddy I love him. And thank you for Jesus.Amen."

Wow, God. I snuffled in and swallowed. That's my girl. That's Your girl. Thank you.

I squeezed her hands.

"Dear God, Thank you painting sunrises and rainbows for us, because sometimes we need a "wow" to remind us how very much you love us. Thank you for Beatrice, God, my precious little Beatle-Bear. Please take care of Daddy. And thank you for Jesus and for our home with You in Heaven, the forever treasure at the end of your rainbow. Amen."


"Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth." Genesis 9:16 (NIV)

© 2010

We'd love you to join us for Friday Fiction!
Our host today is
Rick Higginson at Pod Tales and Ponderings.
Swim on over and add your own link, or just read some fiction by the best Christian writers I know

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, March 19

Friday Fiction: Goodbye, I Missed You

The writing challenge is on break, and, as always, someone was quick to post a mini-challenge.

Homonym Mini-Challenge:

Choose at least five sets of homonyms (most have two words, but some have a few).

Once you have your minimum of five sets of homonyms, write something using every word from each of those groups, making sure that it does all make sense.

This quick little story has the feel, to me, of potential. I welcome "red ink" (helpful critiques).


Goodbye, I Missed You

The river of light trailing the moon across the sea transfixes the tow-headed boy. He dangles his legs over the end of the pier, and the tips of his toes skim the murky surface of the water, sending ever-expanding rings sailing down the river. Their journey to the horizon is broken by a bobbing buoy suspended mid-stream.

He pretends not to hear the flap flap of my bare soles the boards as I come up behind him.

"Joey?" I squat down and rest a hand on his shoulder. "Your mom's here."

His shoulders fall, but his eyes don't leave the waterscape in front of him. I peer into the moonlight, and give him a minute.

"I don't see why I can't stay. I can help out. You can train me to be a counselor."

"Sorry, buddy, that'd be cool, and in a couple years you'll be old enough, and you can train to be a camp counselor. But, right now, your mom misses you. Come on, you ready?"

"Wait - one more second....there, see?"

He points into the moonlight at a sole gull lighting atop the bobbing buoy.

"They like to sit out there all alone. I feel like that sometimes. Just want to go sit alone somewhere and think."

"Jesus did that a lot, ya know. So it must be a good thing." I ruffle his sun-bleached hair. "Now let's go, your mom's waiting."

Joey swings his toes through the water one more time before scrambling to his feet. His narrow shoulders lift and his chest fills as he breathes deep of the sea air. Finally, he turns around to look at me. I wink and stand to the side to let him pass. At the other end of the pier, his mother dances in anticipation of reunion with her son. And Joey smiles.

© 2010

Join the Friday Fiction fun! Our hostess today is Christina Banks at "With Pen in Hand" Add your own link, or just read some fiction by the best Christian writers I know.

Catrina Bradley

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

Sunday, March 7

Heart of God in Haiti - Critical Update!

"The crisis in Haiti is far from over;
children are still dying, disease is running rampant,
and now the rains and floods are complicating an already
critical set of circumstances."

Please don't let yourself become complacent! I'm thankful for friends like Jan Ross who are faithful to remind me that, although the media's eye has turned to the next disaster, the people in Haiti are still living (barely) in their devastated home.

Heart of God in Haiti is still faithfully ministering with the resources they have, but disease, injuries, and despair are waging war. Please follow this link:
 to read the latest update from Haiti and the call to the Army of God.

In Him,
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, March 5

Friday Fiction: Just Know...

Happy Friday!!!

Today I'm posting something fresh and new - my latest FaithWriters challenge entry, with a slight change to the first sentence. I had to cut so many words to make the limit, I hacked everything, including the opening. I also reworked the last section now that I have freedom of word count. I like this version better than than the one I entered. (I changed the title, too, after I realized how L-A-M-E it was.)

Eventually I'd like to revisit my original draft and make it even longer, and tell the story I originally set out to tell. This one isn't close to being it, but it ain't bad. :)



Just Know...


The caution for quiet whispered through the firs and down the slope, tickling Chelsea's ear. She shivered in her sleeping bag. Yeah, God, I know--"Be still". She tried harder to empty her mind.


Her tent kept out the chill wind, but canvas doesn't block sound.

Wait, that's not You, is it?


She fumbled for her zipper tab and emerged from her cocoon. Her sweats were waiting and she pulled them on and wrapped up in her granny's trusty quilt before undoing the door flap.

The zzzzzrrrriiIIIP silenced the early morning bird and bug chorus, and one final SHHH.....SHHHHHH echoed off her tent and across the narrow meadow.

A voice. "Helloooo? Anyone home?" Definitely male. Definitely close.

Lord, if that's not your angel, please protect me.

Chelsea peeked out, and gasped. Her unexpected caller stood not two feet away staring back at her.

He had lifted his goggles, and she saw that his brown eyes were crinkled at the corners. Is that kindness, God? Or cunning? I can't tell. Impossible to tell much with all that ski gear. Ahh, skis! That explains the shh shh's.

"What're you doing here?" she called through the canvas.

"That's kinda what I wanted to ask you."

This is silly. If he's an axe murderer, a tent's not going to stop him. Chelsea slipped on her clogs and stepped out. "I came here to get away from the noise, but it's not working."

"Oh, my fault I guess."

Was that a friendly wink, or a sinister one? "No, that's not it." Chelsea blushed and stared into the forest. "I wanted to get away from phones and TV's, doorbells and emails and texts...and people. I wanted to hear God. But it's not working--the noise in my head--it won't shut up. Yap yap yap. I don't know how to make it stop, to 'be still' so I can know God. And I do. Want to know Him."

The words had come out in a rush, and Chelsea glanced into those confusing eyes then back at the trees. "I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from."

"People're usually like that around me. It's OK--I'm pretty good at keepin secrets. It comes with the job."

"Ahh. 'The Job.' CIA? FBI? KGB?" Chelsea looked around the wilderness. "Underground anti-initial militia cell?"

His laughter rang through the trees. "Not even close. David," he said, and stuck out his hand. "I pastor a little church down the hill. You aughta come. Sunday morning 'n all, ya know?"

"No, I don't think so, but thanks. I need to be alone. And listen."

"There's more'n one way to 'be still'. There's nothin like worshippin in song to help you hear better." David slid his goggles down and set his poles. "I gotta go, but you'll likely be seein more of me."

"Didn't I mention I came here for privacy? And quiet?"

"D'you know happen to know where 'here' is?"

"Yeah, I scoped it out--that dirt road I took isn't even on the map. That's why I'm here. It's private." This time she didn't look away when she met his eyes.

His smirk said he had a secret. Not the reaction Chelsea was expecting.

"Just so happens that dirt road is my driveway, and 'Here' is my mountain. Sorry, but yer wrong about the privacy."

The sun moved behind a cloud, shrouding them in shadow. Chelsea shivered and tugged Granny's quilt tighter.

"You're welcome to stay, tho," said David. "Hope you hear what you're listening for. And if you change your mind about church, go back to the main road and take a right--we're down just a ways on your left."

Chelsea watched him push off and ski across the meadow, still uncertain about what she'd seen in his eyes.


She'd poured her first cup of coffee and settled into her camp-chair by the fire to try again--be still and listen--when strains from a pipe organ wafted uphill. She couldn't make out the words, but she heard them all the same.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound..."

     ''Listen. Be still. Know.''

A calming of body, a relaxing of soul. Chelsea heard again the strange pastor's words: "There's more than one way to 'be still'," and a small, still voice whispered,


Chelsea's eyelids closed, and the eyes of her heart were were opened. A choir sang familiar praises in Chelsea's mind, accompanied by the heavenly music traveling on the crisp air.

     ''ssshhhhh. Be still. Do you know?''

The world fell away as she heard her Lord.

     ''I am.''

And she was still.

© 2010

We'd love you to join us for Friday Fiction!
Our host today is
Karlene Jacobson at
"Homespun Expressions"
Add your own link, or just read some fiction by the best Christian writers I know

Catrina Bradley

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