Due to computer problems (yes, they're fixed now), being burned out from that December blitz (reviewing a story a day - that was just insane!), and just downright laziness after the holidays, I haven't been around much to spotlight my own or anyone else's work. I look forward to bringing you lots of new stories in the coming months by some of our dear friends, as well as several new authors I've come to know. So for now, here's a peek at my own story. I know some of you have seen and read it and I would love it if you would pipe in!
What did God say to Peter when he asked, “How oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times?”
Jesus saith unto him, “I say not unto thee, until seven times: but, until seventy times seven.” Matt 18:21-22
No, it’s not in our power to forgive that perfectly, infinitely, the way our Father does, but forgiveness is the answer. Without forgiveness, there is no love. Without love, there is no life.
When the past repeats itself, can there be a different outcome?
I’m so sorry, Peter. A tear splashed onto the carpet. Margaret took a deep breath, wiped her cheek, and stepped into what had been Peter’s sickroom. She walked to the window seat and stared out into the backyard, arms clutched around her middle. There would be no sound of children playing, no sitting on the glider growing old together. She put a hand on the window. If only I could have loved you more—
“Any more, Megs?” Lukas’ footsteps grew louder as he came down the hall.
She wiped away another tear as it dribbled down her cheek.
“Oh, hey, there you are.” He hesitated in the doorway, resting a hand on the frame. He lowered his voice. “You OK?”
She chewed on her bottom lip and nodded, afraid that if he came near her she would collapse in those arms; arms she knew were strong enough to hold her up. Arms she had missed for years. She hated herself for wanting to feel them wrap around her again.
A glimmer of a smile creased his lips, as if sharing her pain. She remembered other smiles, other glances across different rooms. She sighed and looked back outside.
After ten years, the memory of Lukas disappearing from her life still haunted her. She had worn his engagement ring through the last half of their senior year. Then a month before their wedding day, he left. No goodbye, just a letter—as if that was enough. Then poof. He was gone.
She gave the ring to her mother and never saw it again.
The pain of lost love still lingered. It was best left in the past, but she had never figured out how to let it go. God knew she tried.
The contradiction tore at her heart. Losing Lukas hurt worse than anything else in her life, but the love never died. If only she could have loved Peter with that same fervor, instead of the half‐hearted love she had given him. Oh, she had tried, but it wasn’t the same.
Margaret took a deep breath. Her gaze lingered on the backyard for a long moment. Straightening her shoulders, she led the way down the hall, stepping silently past Lukas.
I hope you enjoyed this little peek at Daffodils!