Fighting Fate

She bit down hard on her bottom lip, forming blood in her mouth. Clenching her fists, she stared at her lingering fate. She was in a battle and she had to win, but the spinning in her head made her think that she was losing. She felt a tear fall down her face and she bit down harder on her lip to stop her emotions. She could see everyone she loved before her and she felt as if they were fading. Her battle was becoming too hard and her head continued to spin even more. She wasn’t ready to lose; she definitely wasn’t going to give up. She was young, she could fight this, but the lingering fate before her kept getting closer and closer, demolishing her oxygen, making her not be able to breath. She gasped for air and with her fist clenched tight, nails digging into her palm, she pounded at her fate. She would not let it win. It did not let the blow phase it and it continued toward her, its life drilling a hole through her. Blood poured from her abdomen, from her mouth, from her nose, from her hands. She fell on her knees, giving into the emotions as she let tears flow. Her air was rapidly decreasing as the fate came closer. The battle was ending and she was losing. She looked down at her hands, the blood oozing from the wounds on her palms and she was reminded that all through this battle, she forgot that she wasn’t fighting alone. She looked up to see a hand extended towards her, scarred by even deeper wounds. Looking up to see the face of her savior, she beheld Christ in his glory, pulling her from the battle – victory was won.

Wonderful

Her tire ran over yet another grouping of crunchy, orange and brown leaves and she couldn’t help but smile at the arrival of fall. She inhaled deeply and was met with its scent; there are few things as good as the smell of autumn.

She turned her bike off the path and through the tall, black iron gates to be met with a new scent; the smell of flowers, dirt, and the faint aroma of formaldehyde. She always thought it was amazing how the natural, beautiful smell of flowers could mask the horrid smell of death in a cemetery.

She continued on the thin, winding road around the bend to be met by a parked black SUV. The sight almost surprised her; people rarely visited the cemetery at this hour, especially when the sun has set on a chilly evening. She shrugged it off and continued pedaling.

Turning around another slight bend, she saw him - an elderly man, probably in his late 80’s, quietly sitting in a lawn chair out in the middle of the graveyard. He sat stoically, staring down at a simple tombstone marked by beautiful red roses. No movement, no words, no nothing. The sight broke her heart.

Her bike tire ran over another crunchy leaf as she road by and he looked up slowly to meet her gaze. She didn’t know how to respond exactly, but she raised a hand as a wave and gave him a sincere smile. He softly beamed a genuine grin in return and waved happily.

The whole experience warmed her heart. It was short and to a bystander, it would mean nothing, but to a girl frustrated by the world and all those in it, it was a reminder that were still some decent people out there, people that aren’t all that bad.

She continued her bike ride, pedaling hard, sweat beading at her brow, the cold air wrapping itself around her, and she was put at ease by the thought that everything is still wonderful.