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A Small Bit of Blue

by Pat Guy  
2/11/2007 / Short Stories

'Good Morning, this is God!
I will be handling all your problems today.
I will not need your help
So, have a good day.'

Jenanne had read this many times, but gave it little thought as she opened the refrigerator door. Her mind was more occupied with her stomach than her heart to pay any attention to the words. And she was in a hurry. She would be late, as usual, for 'girls day out.' Little did she know what her mirror had in store for her that morning.

She never looked in the mirror for long. It was only used for the flick of mascara or the sweep of blush, or to brush her glowing red hair her crowning jewel. But she never, ever looked herself in the eyes. Whether this was conscious or unconscious, it didn't matter; she avoided them.

With brush in hand, Jenanne smoothed her silky hair as she swept it back to clip it up. She took one last look.

Without warning, her eyes locked with their own image. Words screamed in her face, seized her mind and began squeezing the breath of life from her heart. 'You don't belong here. You weren't supposed to be born. You are the waste product of sin.'

Slow motion eased the hairbrush back to its place and she stood stoic before an image blurred by tears she did not feel. Her fight was ending she could not look away. I know. God doesn't want me. He never did. It explains everything.

'He wouldn't miss you anyway. What is one less, than the millions He has already?'

I know. I'm not supposed to exist. I'm to make do with crumbs.

She turned away from the arrows of torture pricking her skin.

Jenanne no longer felt like going anywhere. She didn't care what her excuse sounded like, and maybe the concern of her friends should mean something, but nothing could be stirred within her she had been fighting this battle far too long and it was time for it to end.

Oh, she knew the right things to do, but that meant she was fighting the battle one more time. A battle she was tired of rising above. I am the dog who eats the crumbs from their Master's table.* It wasn't enough anymore. She was through.

She snatched up her laptop to do some research for a project at work to escape the danger she was close to committing. Fear might not be enough this time, for she was on the edge of closing off her heart. What difference would it make anyway?

Settled on the back porch, she was off in 'Cyber World' for the next hour until she heard, 'the click.'

No! No more mail! Just leave me alone!' Then another 'click.' And another. Gritting her teeth, she punched her way back, 'Okay what's going on?' Two from the friends she begged off, and one that carried a title of a story she had written last year. Now her curiosity was peaked. Maybe someone wants to pay to use it, she hoped.

Opening the email she read,

'Dear romans1513,
I just wanted to let you know how much your article, 'No Hope' has meant to me and how it encouraged me to keep holding on. God let me find it right when I needed it. Thank you so much for writing what God put on your heart. I know it was for me too. BTW, great screen name.


Jenanne grabbed her bible nearby and found Romans 8:15, 'For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by Him we cry, Abba, Father.' Her eyes soaked in every Word now 'The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children.we are heirs.'*

Tears they streamed, they poured, they emptied the emptiness. How could she have missed the true meaning of such precious Words? She was a child of The Father! She was an heir, and entitled to all the Promises and Power of The King!

She went to her room and shut the door. As she bowed before her Father, a small bit of blue flashed through her memory from a few hours earlier,

'Good Morning!
This is God.
I will be handling all your problems today.
I will not need your help
So, have a good day.'

'Abba Father' was all she needed to say.

*Romans 15-17 NIV
*Matthew 15:26-27 NIV

Pat Guy

Pat Guy is a Christian author who enjoys sharing the connection of word and soul. She is a proud wife, a proud mom and an extremely proud Gramy.

Article Source: WRITERS

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