Friday Fiction: So Much More

Fiction Friday is a weekly opportunity for writers to share their work and receive a smidgen of feedback. It's also a GREAT place for readers to peruse inspiring and encouraging fiction from up-and-coming new authors. If you're new, don't be shy! Add a link or follow a link (at the bottom of this post), and be sure to scatter comments along your way. Enjoy!!!

I'm SO excited!! I'm hosting Fiction Friday this week! My thanks to the lovely and most gracious "owner" of this meme, Anna K(arlene) Jeffrey, for including me on her itinerary of guest homes.

I've been been up against a close cousin the demon "Writer's Block" for a while now - I've had idea after idea, many of them good ones, but any attempt to write them out hit a wall after a few paragraphs.

I knew I had to break through, even if it was by force, so, after an involuntary three-month hiatus from the FaithWriters challenge, I forced out a reasonably competitive entry.  It didn't come naturally or easily, but I made myself type words on the screen and vowed to enter for the topic "Week(s)". The following is the (not too shabby) result.

Be blessed,
Cat

p.s.: Possible tissue [slash] mascara alert







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So Much More

Maria slipped into her chair at the kitchen table and, with a trembling hand, spooned scrambled eggs onto her plate. “Where’s Dad?” She lifted her eyes to peek at her mom.

“In his office.” Loreene turned from the stove and set down a plate of bacon before taking her own seat. “His boss called and needed something right now, never mind breakfast.”

“Oh. Ok. Um…” She shot a furtive glance down the hall, then looked down at her plate.

Loreene eyed her daughter. “Something on your mind?”

“It’s just…it’s been a week.” Tears pooled in Maria’s eyes and she tried unsuccessfully to blink them away. “And he hasn’t called.”

“Justin?”

She nodded and forced a swallow of juice past the lump in her throat.

“Maybe he’s been sick.”

“No, see…” Maria peeked down the hall again. “Last week, he told me he loved me.” She chanced a look at her mom, but couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Hmmm. Do you love him too?” Loreene grabbed a slice of bacon and began nibbling.

“Yes, Mama, I do. And I told him. I know you think we’re too young, but we really ARE in love.” She had stirred her eggs into oblivion by then and dropped her fork in disgust. Fresh tears fell into the yellow mess on her plate.

Loreene ached to throw her arms around her “baby” girl and smother her in hugs. She opted to play it cool instead. “So, why do you think he hasn’t called?”

Maria buried her face in her hands and mumbled, “I think I made a mistake.”

“By telling him you love him?”

“No. By showing him.”

Maria’s sob echoed through the kitchen, and Loreene grasped her hand. Lord, give me words. Give me wisdom and patience. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak, having no idea what she was going to say.

“Ok. You showed him. And that means…?” She was careful to maintain a gentle tone despite the raging emotions threatening to make her shriek.

“Mom. I’m sorry. I know you said I should wait, but it seemed right. I thought it was for real. But it’s been a week, now, and he hasn’t called, and I…I’m…”

“Scared? Angry? Confused? You should be. I would be. I AM.”

“No. Well, yes, those things, but I’m…late.”

Loreene’s racing heart kicked into afterburner, and she clenched her daughter’s hand in a vice-grip.

“Ow, Mama!”

“Sorry.” Loreene let go of Maria’s hand and combed her fingers through her hair. Lord? An extra helping of patience would be nice right now. And words? Please? “Late, huh? Ok, let’s look at this. It happened a week ago. And you’re how late?”

“A day.”

Loreene felt a measure of relief; chances were extremely slim her daughter’s mistake had resulted in conception, but she still wanted to rant and rave about the stupid thing she’d done.

Maria interrupted her thoughts. “I took a test. Before I came downstairs. It should be done now.”

“And if it’s positive?” She drummed her fingernails on the tabletop and cocked an eyebrow.

“We’ll get married!”

The drumming ceased, and Loreene laid both sweaty palm on the table. “Before we go check the results, can I say something?”

Maria shrugged, but wouldn’t look at her. Loreene plunged ahead.

“Love is more than emotion. It’s also action. You do things for someone because you love them.

“If he hasn’t called you in the week since he “showed” you how much he loves you, how much love do you think he’ll show in a marriage? Or to a baby? There are worse things than being a single mom—like having an abusive or neglectful husband. You’ve already made one bad decision; don’t top it off with a worse one.”

Maria’s face drooped with shame, and panic crept into her voice. “But I don’t want to raise a baby alone!”

“You’ll never be alone. Even when we’re disappointed in you and wish you’d done things differently, we’ll never desert you or disown you.” This time Loreene didn’t hold back. She grabbed Maria across the corner of the table and held her tight, ignoring the scattered remnants of eggs and bacon. “We’ll always love you.”

She broke the hug and took her daughter’s hand. “The next time you’re faced with the same decision, I want you to think of how you feel right now. And remember you are worth so much more.” She stood and pulled Maria up with her. “Are you ready?”

© 2008






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

LINK UP HERE!!!!!!

Jewels of Encouragement: Debut Tomorrow!

Do you ever have one of those days when you just need someone to reassure you that everything will be ok? I have a lot of them. A brand new blog debuts tomorrow, and its very purpose is to provide that reassurance, a little pick-me-up, and maybe a new outlook on an old problem.

Jewels of Encouragement is a collaboration of bloggers who's goal is ... well ... to encourage you. If you'd like to see who we are (yes, I was blessed to be invited to be a part of the Jewels Team!), the blog is LIVE, and we have all introduced ourselves. Follow us, or subscribe, and receive a daily dose of encouragement. And be sure to come back tomorrow for the grand opening!!

Be Blessed (and encouraged!)
Cat


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

Friday Fiction is at home today on Karlene Jacobson's blog "Homespun Expressions". Click Here to read some good, original, clean writing!!

I'm repeating a Friday Fiction today - and 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? :) )

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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.

That day, the midnight blue suit was left on the hangar, and Ralph reached instead for his brand new, never before worn, silk lined wool 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 in my eyes. I watched Ralph stride up the left-hand aisle and stand shoulder to shoulder with the less handsome ushers as a prayer was said. Then he picked up a gold offering plate and made his way back down the aisle, pew by pew, 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 respect.

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."


©  2009

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Don't forget to visit Karlene'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 the Linky tool 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)

Monday Manna: Trust Me (Exodus14:13-14)

  The purpose of Monday Manna to get together and get to know Christ more through His Word. Monday Manna is hosted by Joanne Sher at her blog "An Open Book".  You are welcome to add own thoughts and link up on her blog.



I’ve said it before: when the Lord has a word he wants me to hear, he drives it home, over and over and over, from sources varied and wide. Joanne’s Monday Manna passage this week is no exception. These verses, like so many passages of Scripture can be summed up in the two-word message God has been broadcasting to me lately:

“Trust Me.”

Moses answered the people,

“Do not be afraid. Stand firm

and you will see the deliverance
the LORD will bring you today.

The Egyptians you see today you will never see again.

The LORD will fight for you;

you need only to be still.”

Exodus 14:13-14

The Israelites, faced with a literal dead end in their flight from Pharaoh’s army, were rightfully frightened. But they rebuked God instead of asking for His favor. They moaned and whined and worried and complained.

In all honesty, I’m afraid I would have been right there among the whiners.

This is what I hear God saying to me through this passage: "Trust Me. No matter what I ask you to do, no matter what happens, I’ve got your back. You say you trust me, so why are you stagnating? You’re not helpless; you’re flailing around in a quagmire of your own imagining. Dig your heels into that solid rock and stand on my promises. Come on, get up. It’s time for you to move.”

God has been preparing me for surrender this year, and I regret not better recording my journey so far, as was my intent when I changed my blog. I hope one of the results is that I’ll be able to abandon all fear (and whining, moaning, complaining, etc.) and march straight toward whatever raging river He wants me to cross next. And if I stay silent, stand firm, let Him fight FOR me, my faith will be enough to part seas...and move mountains.


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: First Advent

I have a bucket load of unfinished fiction stories, and I had planned to share two of my recent (failed) attempts at a FaithWriters challenge entry. Instead, when I went to write this post, I found myself drawn (again) to a story I started long ago for the topic "Advent".   When I read it again today, I saw that maybe I had actually ended it last time I tweaked on it.

It's not half-bad, if I can say that about my own writing. The bad half is the part that needs overhauling, of course. :) Keeping that in mind, I present to you, out of season and not perfect, .....

FIRST ADVENT

John peeked around the doorjamb and spied his young wife, Marcy, still asleep. He padded across the rough plank floor to her bedside, the precious package held carefully behind his back.

His tender gaze caressed her face, and his eyes misted as love clenched his heart. A tiny noise escaped his throat.

Marcy’s eyes opened a slit. “What a fine sight I behold as I open my eyes to the world this morn. Good morrow, my love.” Marcy angled her sleepy face to receive a kiss.

“And a good morrow to you, my wife.” John bent down to oblige her, and Marcy’s arms struggled out of the bedclothes and quilts and wrapped around him.

“Well, now, what’s this?” Marcy sat up in bed, and tried to see what John was obviously hiding behind his back.

Friday Fiction: The Lost Seinfeld

Thanks for reading my offering for Fiction Friday today!! My husband was a big fan of this story I wrote for the FaithWriters challenge topic, "Charade", as were other fans of the TV show "Seinfeld". I hope you enjoy!




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THE LOST SEINFELD

George had control of the remote, and the scanned through programs faster than a 100-meter sprinter ran the stretch of the track. The revolving door of channels happened upon a black and white show of days gone by.

“Stop.” Jerry leaned forward on the couch. “It’s Superman.”

“Why do you like this show so much?”

“George, you don’t understand. It’s not the show I like; it’s Superman. Watch, and learn. Bask in the glory of his Super-ness”

“Excuse me, Lois, I’ll be right back.”Clark Kent went into the small bathroom and closed the door. Lois Lane, engrossed in the movie they were watching on TV, hardly noticed his exit, let alone his absence. A charge in the atmosphere drew her focus from the flickering images on the television; she jerked her head around.

“Superman, what are YOU doing here?”

Friday Fiction: Second Thoughts

Thanks for reading my offering for Fiction Friday today!  I only just remembered it was Friday - I'm blaming it on my snowcation messing up my routine. :)  So, her I am, with an hour and a half left of Friday, scrambling. Needless to say, this is a rerun, but unless you've been following me since I first posted this story, it's new to you! Yay! And even if you have, its been over two years, so I'm hoping it will be fresh again. :)

Enjoy!


SECOND THOUGHTS

I don’t know how to tell this, or even where to start really. I guess I should start with Tessa, seeing as how it this is mostly her fault.

She’s so much different. Most girls are all about their make up and their hair and dressing like a hottie, but Tessa – she is what she is and she’s happy with that. She’s the only girl I know who is happy looking like herself, that being the girl next door. And I mean girl. She could probly pass for 10 even though she’ll be 14 on her birthday come December. Besides her cute little nose that turns up at the end, she’s got gorgeous eyes – big and brown and shiny. Hair just as brown and shiny all the way down her back.

Anyway, back to the story. I wasn’t real happy about the plan but I didn’t want to be a wimp. It’s a guy thing, ya know? See, I never was one to back down from a dare, so I went along with it, and Tessa, she followed me like always. She must watch outta her window for me to walk past cuz she came out her front door right when I crossed her driveway.