July Story Contest

Through This Storm
By: DTKLOVER
Age: 15

I long to be one again.
Long to feel the movement beneath me,
long to feel the love of another.
I long for that joyful, graceful feeling again.
I yearn for that feeling of home sweat home,
that feeling that only comes when we are one.
I need that heavenly place, that heavenly feeling of being
together, being ajoined to the one who I love.
I must feel that breeze, the winds of heaven,
as we fly together as one.
If it was not for this curse upon us, 
this deathly curse that brings all too
their knees,
I would never leave this place.
But alas, the curse has come and taken it away.
So far away that I cannot even visit this one, this one
who fills me with joy, this one who makes me laugh
when I want to cry, this one who makes me smile when
I'm scared to death of what is to come,
this one who carries me forward when I want to run away,
and not only carries me forward, but makes me
perfectly happy, even longing to go on.
But now, now instead of him carrying me,
instead of filling me with joy, or making me smile, or laugh,
instead of doing these things, a thought of him
makes my smile disappear, 
takes the laughter away,
for I know that I cannot go to him.
The thought of how long it could be before we are together again,
and worse yet of how long it could be before we can truly be one
again, fills me with dread, plunges me to the very depths.
But then I look, and behold, another is holding out his hand,
drawing me near, pulling me to him.
And, though I can hardly hear it over my own thoughts, pounding me
ears like rain on metal, I hear just the whisper of I am with you.
And this pulls me up again, sets me on my feet,
gives me back my hope, and makes me dream again.
He tells me just to trust him. He knows his plan,
though I may not see it yet.
What seems evil now, what seems like the worst form?
Of torture there could possibly be,
will turn out for good. 
He tells me that he will make me well again,
but in his timing, not mine.
He promises me that I will have that sense of home,
that heaven on earth again, if I will just be patient.
And though I cannot wait until that day,
that day when heavens winds will kiss my cheeks,
that day when I will ride upon his back, and see the world from
between his ears, that day when finally I will feel joyful and graceful and peaceful 
again, my Saviour, my prodigal God, is there.
He is always there. And always will be.
And he has given me peace to make it through this storm.

 

I wrote this when I was on crutches and couldn't ride for a couple weeks.
Hope it cheers you!
--DTKLOVER