MInTheGap Fiction Fiction Writing from MInTheGap

The Endless Quest

It’s been three days since the plane crash, and I still don’t know what to do. Girding on the last pack of rations from my plane, I know that I’m a long way from civilization. I’ve started to head North-east in hope that I might come upon some water, for I fear that my supply will run out fairly quickly in this dry desert.

It’s been an interesting day. Opening my map, it told me that I could find an oasis west of my position. Still, I don’t see an oasis, and I’m sure that if I continue on my present course I will find water soon. It’s really dry and barren out here. It’s about 100 degrees in the shade, if I could find some. There are no trees that I can see. I think I recall a large rock on my way here. I think that I will try to find it before day break.

Today I found a caravan of people moving west. One of them stopped for a second and came back to me. He chatted with me and told me something about water to the west and an oasis. He pulled out a map similar to my own, yet I told him that I knew my way, and that I could find water on my own. He’s crazy. I mean, why would I want to give up my home to follow him and his band of tunic-wearing friends. Some people just don’t understand that they’re not the only ones with the right way home. I need to make my own choice, not be bossed around by another.

It’s getting rather hot out here. My water will soon run out. That, and my rations are slowly thinning. Well, at least I’m getting thin. I wonder when I’ll get home. Boy, I’ll sure be glad to see my nice bed. I had the weirdest dream this morning. I dreamed that my children were gone when I got back. My ex-wife had taken them and I would never see them again. I don’t understand it. I mean, it just didn’t work out, that’s all. Then, my new wife left me for the next door neighbor. I woke up and looked at the map. It pointed westward once again, yet I know that home is North-east.

I saw some guys in a dune buggy today. That must mean that I’m getting close. They were nice guys and all, but they wanted to take me west. I told them, “I’ve heard about that place in the west. They don’t tolerate people like me. In fact…” I listed some things that I had heard. They begged me to go with them, but I refused. It’s my choice. It’s my life. I have the right to do with it as I chose, and no one’s going to tell me how to run my own affairs.

There are many signs the Christian has along the road of life. God is not in the business of saying “Ha, Ha, Ha. They’ll never guess what my will is!” He is in the business, however, of developing a personal relationship with those that believe Him. His word shows us the way, and we must be willing to follow. Our friends that are around us try to exhort us, but we must listen. We must not look at who we are, but who He is and what He has done for us.

Learning To Float

“Can you get into the pool?” Kate asked.

“Of course I can get into the pool,” the boy replied. He proceeded to get climb down the ladder into the water below. “See?”
“Good.  Now come over here to me,” she instructed. The boy made his way over to her. It was an experience that the boy hadn’t had in years. To have that much water surrounding his body was a curious sensation. Something that he would take some time getting used to.

“So, how does it feel?”

“Different. I haven’t done this in a long time!”

“Well, here. Let me show you some strokes.” She swims to the right and starts to demonstrate different strokes as the boy watches on. She goes back and forth with seemingly effortless motion.

“You expect me to do that?!”

“Well, not right at first. Let’s try this. Hold on to this,” she instructs, as they both turn to grab onto a piece of metal bar that is on the side of the pool, “and see if you can float.” He held onto the bar, and his feet went up.

The night continued on, as Kate tried to teach the boy how to at least tread water. His insecurity about the whole thing made it difficult, as he didn’t want to trust the water below him.

“Can you stick your head under water?”

“I think so. Let’s see.” He quickly stuck his head under and brought it back up. “That was weird. I was scared.”

“Why? I wouldn’t let you drown.”

“I know that, but still…”

At one point, she tried to get him to do the back float while he held on to two bars. “Okay, now all you have to do is to keep your belly button pointed to the sky. Can you let go with one hand. I’ll keep my hand on your back.” So he let go with one hand, but didn’t know what to do with it. The floating feeling was strange, and he felt he had no control. He placed his hand on her back, to get support, just as the life guard called for everyone out of the water.

As Christians, we must trust God with all of our heart. It is not an easy thing, yet with practice, turning one’s life over to Him can result in a wonder of how we ever lived without Him. Of all people, He is the One that loves us the most, and gave us His Son to die for us. Like the boy in the story, we can trust Him with our lives, yet, too often we need to have control of the situation ourselves. To give Him all things is to secure all things, so why is it so difficult? We must learn to deny ourselves if we want to be fit for His service.

Casting Every Burden

Walking down the long road, from where he was to where he was going, a lone slave made his journey. He was determined to finish the course, to make his way home. He had been a pilgrim in this weary land for far too long. It seemed like many years, more than he could remember, that he was placed here, under the care of a ruthless master who had no care for him– even whether he lived or died. He wasn’t mistreated too badly. In fact, many would say that he had it well off. He was provided for, it seemed, but much was missing from his life.

It was at that point in time that a woman stepped into his life which pointed him to a kind, gentle master, who had his eye on him the whole time. That master was gracious and had prepared the way for the servant to join him, all he had to do was believe.

So, the servant was now following where his faith led. It was to a destination that he’d only heard stories about when people passed his way. Few had ever been there and returned, and who blamed them! From what the servant heard, you’d be crazy to want to come back. The path was difficult, the journey tough. There were many pitfalls, and it was impossible to tell if he was making any progress toward home or not, or when he would get there.
This one day, another servant of his former master caught up with him, and started to talk to him about what had transpired.

“So, you’re on your way to your new home.”

“That’s right.”

“You know, I hear that it’s a long way off. Are you sure that you wouldn’t like to take a break and get a drink of water or something?”

“Well, I am kinda thirsty.” With that, the servant stops. He goes totake a glass of water, but as he nears it, and brings it to his lips, he throws the water down. “I can’t drink this! I’m on a mission!”

A little further down the road, there is a great gulf that seems to go for miles. It’s right in the way of the path. The servant isn’t sure if he can climb down the cliff or even go the distance. The former servant returns to his side. “So, how come your new master leads you to cliffs that you cannot cross. You’d think that He’d at least have a swinging bridge here or something!”

“That is a little strange. It seems that this whole path is difficult!”

“Well, no need to hurry, you can just sit here for a while– there’s a nice tree over here,” points out the other servant.

“That does look nice and cool.” He starts to head over to the tree, but realizes that he has to conquer the gap, and it’s still going to be there when he gets up. It has to be now. So, he gets up and starts to cross.

A few miles later, the former servant appears with a big truck. “Are you here to offer me a ride?”

“Nope,” grins the former servant, “you forgot a few things.” Getting out of the truck, the other servant takes the tarp off of the truck to reveal a bunch of items, pictures, tokens, and things that remind the servant of who he was, of the mistakes he made. In fact, there’s even a picture there of the water and the gap.

“What’s this?”

“These are things that you left behind. You have to take these with you!”

“No! I have all I need.” Yet he finds himself, one by one, taking things from the truck and examining them. Before he puts them in his bag and continues, he looks up. Thinking of his master, he drops them to the ground, pulls out a piece of paper, and writes something to remember– about his master, where he was, and the deceitful ways of a by gone time.

Christian, you’re on a mission. Don’t let yourself get distracted. Don’t let the things of this world tempt you. And, most importantly, don’t let Satan have you take back upon yourself the burden of sins confessed. They were laid on Christ. “Take my yoke upon you… for m yoke is easy and my burden is light.” This is what Christ says, happy are we if we do it!

Where is Your Treasure?

Slipping through the narrow street, the young man scampered over the things in the alleyway until he reached an old, broken-down shack that lie at the end. He carefully walked up, turned around to see if anyone had followed, and then opened the creaky old door. It squeaked as it opened, and he looked to see if anyone had heard. No one was there. Not a sound. He carefully walked into the shack, and closed the door slightly behind.

A cat jumped off it’s perch, and nearly scared the boy to death as he swerved away from it. Panting, he held his hand to his chest, feeling his heart pounding inside. A few minutes later and the boy caught his breath and continued inside. Like he was the builder of the shack, he made his way to the back and to an old trunk. Being careful that no one was watching, he lifted the latch and lifted the lid. A smile warmed over his face as he gazed at the trunk’s contents. Inside, laying in a bed of sawdust, was a rock. Not just any rock, but the most precious treasure to this young man for in the corner of the rock shined a sparkling gem, of which he was sure was the prettiest diamond he’d ever seen. He dared not tell anyone about it, for they would surely want his gem.

After a little while gazing at his treasure, he closed the lid, put back the latch, and walked back outside, once again making sure that no one had seen or heard a thing, for no one must have his treasure.

Back at his house, his family all gathered around the table for dinner. The father, a farmer by trade from many generations of farmers, sat at the head of the table, as the mother, arms resting on the counter, seemed like she was going to break into tears. “I don’t understand it Charles,” his mother said.

“It’s just that way, May. This has been a bad season, and old Joe Crane down at the bank said that if we didn’t get the money for the latest loan I took out for the feed, that they were going to come out and have to take some of the livestock or something of value from the farm. I can’t think of what we can give him,” replied the father.

But Dad,” the boy said, “If you sell your animals won’t that make it harder for you to make money to pay it off?”

“It would, son, but I don’t see any other choice.” The son had never disclosed any information about his treasure. Any time he was asked about it, the response was that he was off doing something personal or doing something that he thought was fun. No one ever pressed him to find out what took so much of his time, and he never volunteered that information.

It was about a month later, the father had sold some of the livestock, and the family was still in financial trouble. To make matters worse, his little sister caught a dreadful disease, and the father was forced to sell some more of the animals to
cover the fee of the doctor. “It’s all I have, do you understand that?” The father told the banker. “I have nothing but the farm left.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I just cannot give you a loan. You have no collateral or any previous credit rating. I’m afraid that there is nothing that I can do for you.” Disappointed and disheartened, the father turned around and headed for the door. He
walked out, and back to the house.

That day, the boy visited his treasure again, thinking of how he would never have to face the problems that his dad was facing. A twinge of guilt sprung up inside him as he viewed the gem. Maybe I should let my father know about the gem, he thought. He felt for his sister, and knew how the family was in trouble, yet, at the same time, wondered if the gem were enough or whether his treasure would be worth anything. Even if it was, his dad would probably never listen to him tell of a diamond he had– he would think it was a dream or that he was just a child.

Another month passes. The farm has been sold to a wealthy city man.  The family is allowed to stay on it, with pay, out of the rich man’s generosity. The daughter is getting better, though still not out of the hospital. The rent on the place is coming due, and the young boy decides to tell his father about the treasure.

“Dad. I need to tell you something.”

“Not now, son. I’m kinda busy.”

“But Dad, it is important.”

“So is what I am doing.”

“But Dad–”

“No buts. Now, run along and check to see if your mother has anything for you to do.” The boy hangs his head and walks away. After he is done helping his mother, he walks back to his treasure, takes it out of the box, and works his way to a jeweler. “Let’s see what you have here, son.” The man said. He eyed the rock and the gem in the top. “It’s a diamond all right, but let’s see just how big it is.” The jeweler carried the rock into the back, where he had a hammer and chisel. Carefully, the jeweler banged at the rock to reveal a whole lot bigger diamond than he had ever imagined.

“I’m sorry son, but I don’t have enough money to pay for this diamond. There is a jeweler in the city that could buy it from you.” He gave the young man the address, and with that, the young man headed out to his farm house with the diamond in a bag for safe keeping. But, it was too late. His father had already taken matters into his own hands and had stolen from the city man and was thrown into prison. His mother, desperate for money or work, had left the house to who knows where.

So, the young man went to his sister, showing her the diamond, and telling her all about how an old man had showed him the trunk and gave him the diamond– a real treasure to him. And how he kept it, and never thought that it was as big as it really was, and how much it was worth. How he thought that no one would believe him, and so, he kept it hidden. The sister, tears in her eyes, asked, “But why? Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Why did you wait all this time to share with us
something so valuable?”

“I don’t know.”

Christian, your salvation, your very life from God, is a treasure given to you freely from Christ Jesus Himself. Precious beyond measure was the blood that was shed for you. He gave His life, and commands us to go share the message, give the witness, spread the faith! Why is it that this most precious treasure, far greater than anything we could ever imagine, lies locked up inside ourselves or in our churches. Why isn’t it everywhere– on our tongue continuously?

What Truly Matters

The story is told of a time, long ago, when two young farm boys, each helping their father, saw the King’s royal procession coming walking by for the first time. The lads, both younger than twelve, stood and peered through the fence as the knights on horseback were followed by footmen, and the train seem to go on forever until, near the center, a lavishly decorated coach came by. Around it walked heavily armored guards, in all their splendor with their big swords and shields at their sides.

“When I grow up, I want to be just like one of them,” Jacob said. Acting out each part, he continued, “I could fight of the evil black knight, rescue the fair damsel, and be king of the mountain!” Losing his balance, he tumbled down the small pile of dirt that he had mounted.

“Some knight you’d be,” his friend, Lance snickered. “I think you’ve heard too many stories. My dad says that there is no damsel, or anything like that, and all these knight guys get to do is stand around and sweat, and then they end up dying for some guy they never see, unless they get some reward for being injured or something.”

“Oh yeah? Well, my dad has told me stories of valiant knights, and glorious battles, and–”

“And that’s all they are, stories,” Lance finished. As they were going back and forth, Lance’s mother called him home, and the discussion ceased.

Many years later, there was a war in the land. A king from many miles away had attacked a weak position in the outskirts of the kingdom. Many brave souls fought hard and long, and
as such, new people were called in to serve their king and kingdom. Among them, two men, who long ago had formed their opinions of service for the king.

“I can’t believe this! I have a farm to work, a wife to take care of– I don’t have time to be off fighting battles,” an older Lance complains to a group of men called into service.

“But it is our duty, our service to one that has guided and protected all of us for so long. It is the least that we can do,” replied a voice in the shadow. Getting up, it was Jacob. “I would most gladly give my life for the king.”

“For what? A medal? A pat on the back?” Lance questioned.

“Yeah, I mean, he never comes by my house!” Another states.

“And where is he now? Not even here to help us in training, he’s off somewhere guarded and protected!” Still another replied. “While we’re dying on his battlefield, he’s drinking wine in his castle.”

“And none of us will be able to enjoy anything if the enemy makes us his slaves,” replied Jacob.

“You know, he’s right,” another one voiced, “We at least have to try.”

“Not I. I’m only here because I have to be,” finished Lance. The conversation ended, as training picked up again.

Days passed before they were ready, and when they were, they were suited and armored and ready for battle. They each got a horse and road out to the place that they had last heard of the enemy being, and found their own camp. Settling down that night, they awaited what would happen the next day.

It came bright and early, and with it the enemy. It was too late to mount horses, for there was a sneak attack. The men that had come to fight only because they had to ran, and were chased down by horses. Lance fell at the sword of the leader, as he was making what he thought was an unobserved getaway. The man who realized his duty fell fighting many men on foot, and took many with him. And Jacob, as he was fighting, took many of the enemies, and fought valiantly.

More of the kings men came in behind, and overtook the enemy which was defeated. Jacob, wounded and mangled, was taken back to see his king before passing on into eternity himself. As the king looked into the eyes of the man that willingly gave of his life to him, Jacob smiled, knowing that he had done his best, and had served with all of his heart.

A question for you, Christian. Which category of knights do you fall into? Are you the kind that’s there because it’s a free ticket to heaven– to escape eternal destruction? Are you the kind that has to be convinced of its benefits for you individually, that it makes sense to you before you serve? Or, are you the kind that is out there trying to please the King with all of your heart, soul, and mind and wanting to give your all at His feet just for a simple “Well done, good and faithful servant?” What is your primary motivation? What is it that really counts in your life? Where is your focus, love and adoration?