Faith-Colored Fiction
>> Friday, June 25, 2010
This is a "fiction" article of vignettes I wrote awhile back based loosely on some of my own circumstances growing up. It's slice of life fiction with some truth sprinkled in...or for me, healing fiction.
“Hey, FOUR EYES, your mom walks funny!”
I was the only one who wore glasses in the third grade. “My name’s BECKY! And your mom would walk funny, too, if her car had been run over by a semi-truck.”
Their relentless teasing continued. “Oh yeah? Well, maybe if she’d had BIG, THICK glasses like yours, she wouldn’t have crashed!” They stuck their noses in the air, snickering their way into the school.
I hate my life.
******
Dad was in his typical after-work reclined position.
“Becky, just shut up for two seconds, you little brat. I’m tryin’ to watch TV.”
Yuck—his breath stinks.
“Hey Lynn, bring me another beer.”
Get it yourself, you lazy bum. Mom has a headache.
He glared at me. “What are you lookin’ at, Stupid? GET-OUTTA-HERE!”
I hate my life.
******
My choir director had bought me a brand new dress for the occasion--the most exciting dance in the 8th grade--assuring me that I should go.
“Hey, Becky, where’s your dad? This is a DADDY/Daughter dance.” Heather was the know-it-all who seemed to enjoy pointing out how different my life was.
“He doesn’t live with us anymore.”
“Thaaat’s right. He lives at that—(finger snap)—that—(finger snap)—oh yeah, that tavern on the west side of town…orrrr is it the one on the east side?”
My face caught on fire, and I bolted out of there in tears.
I hate my life.
******
“Mrs. Connor? Hi, it’s Becky. Um, I’m going to have to miss the senior concert tonight. Mom’s in the hospital again. I’m so sorry, they’re not sure what’s wrong with her…”
They’re never sure what’s wrong with her.
“…Yeah, well, I have to get to the hospital. She’s asking for me.”
Like I can do anything.
I was ashamed of my tears. “So much for my solo.”
I hate my life.
******
“Wow, Becky—I can’t believe the way you just put a smile on that little girl’s face. No one else has been able to do that. How do you get inside these troubled kids’ heads?”
It felt so good to have someone, an adult no less, compliment me for once. “Well, I guess you could say I understand them.”
Maybe there’s a purpose for my life.
******
I can’t believe I’m here singing in front of the whole college.
“When we walk with the Lord,
In the light of His Word,
What a glory He sheds on our way.”
Thank You for shedding Your light on my way, Lord.
“When we do His good will,
He abides with us still,
Even more when we trust and obey.” *
Lord, I accepted You as my Savior when I was six. "Now I want to obey You through ALL my circumstances."
I trust You with my life, God.
******
“Whatcha’ thinkin’ about? Earth to Mom,” asked my daughter.
I scooped her in my arms, then pushed her glasses back onto her nose. “Hi, ‘Lil Dumplin,’ I was just taking a trip down memory lane.”
“Thinkin’ about Gramma again?”
“Yeah, her, among other things.”
“Like?”
“Like the day I began to trust Jesus with my life. I hated my life before then.”
“Daddy says you had an icky childhood.”
“Yeah, it was pretty icky, Punkin’, but you know what? After I said, ‘Okay, Lord, here’s my ick in all its ickiness. Will you please make something of it?’—after I did that, He gave me a special gift.”
Her eyes twinkled with excitement. “What was it, Mommy?”
“A thick pair of faith-colored glasses. And I wore them from that day forward.”
“Faith-colored glasses? Cooooool! What did Gramma look like after you put ‘em on?”
“Different. She still walked crooked…She still had a rough time of it with her brain damage from the car wreck, but…all of a sudden, I noticed new things about her.”
“Liiike?”
“Like how she loved her Bible. How she desperately depended on God for strength. How often she prayed.”
“Wow! That sounds just like you, Mommy.” She pushed up my glasses with her index finger.
I held her close to me. “It does, huh?”
“You know, I think I got a pair of faith-colored glasses, too--at Gramma’s funeral.”
“Yeah?”
She sat up on her knees. “Welllll, I was lookin’ at Gramma’s picture, and I imagined her dancing in Heaven with Jesus. Brand new legs and everything.”
“Yes, honey, those are the same glasses.” She wiped the tear from my cheek.
“I thought so.” She climbed off my lap. Evidently, it was time to go play.
“Bye, sweetie. Thanks for givin’ Mama sugar.”
“Sure, no problem…FOUR EYES!” Giggles.
“Hey, YOU, look who’s talkin’?”
I love my life.
*****************************************************************************************************
Ephesians 1:18-19a, NIV
“I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which He has called you, the riches of His glorious inheritance in the saints,
and His incomparably great power for us who believe…”
* Trust and Obey—Words: John H. Sammis, 1887. Music: Daniel B. Towner
