Devotional for Authors

I am writing a Christian devotional for authors - I take a prompt from somewhere, write a short story with it, then tie to scripture and devotional thought. At the end I challenge the reader to take the prompt and write their own short story and/or devotion for it.

This is an example:

The Prompt: If you could invite any three people to dinner (dead or alive, famous, fictional, etc.), who would they be, why, and what would the topic of conversation be?

Dinner Guests

            Rushing around the kitchen with curlers in my hair, stirring this and tossing that, my heart was beating like a broken actuator in the dashboard of my body.

            The clock pointed out it was six-fifteen. They would be here in fifteen minutes. I checked the table: pristine flower arrangement in the center, glowing candles on the sideboard, my best dishes looking perfect on the dark blue tablecloth – the little light blue and rose-colored flowers dancing gaily around the edges. I sighed knowing that these particular guests would probably not care much what the table looked like.

            The house smelled spicy and warm from the Italian dishes baking and simmering on the stove. All the carpets and cushions were cat hair-free and the undertones of wood polish and lemon Windex made a citrusy welcome. But these were people wouldn’t give the state of the place a second thought.

            Dashing back to my bathroom mirror I tugged out the hot rollers and ran my fingers through my graying hair. My double chin was smaller due to realigning my relationship with food these past two years – thanks to the help of my guest of honor. Removing my apron, I let my hand smooth down the jewel-green blouse and cinch the waist of the flowing black slacks. My hazel eyes met my reflected eyes. Well, it’s the best I can do.

            Again, these visitors were hardly likely to give much thought to what I had on and how I looked. Physically.

            They were much more apt to look into my soul - as I began to feel rattled about that fact, the doorbell rang.

             Both of my Westies began announcing their irritation that someone was ringing the doorbell and both kittens wove between my feet as I tripped towards the front door. Ugh – why had I not put the dogs in the garage and locked my gray twin kitties in the bedroom? Too late now. I would not think of keeping these VIPS waiting on my front porch.

            Taking the deepest breath of my life, I opened the etched glass door and welcomed my guests into my home. They had come together so there was no need for introductions.

            They entered with smiles and hugs. Greetings were exchanged and coats were taken.

            “Your home is lovely and smells wonderful!” Corrie ten Boom gushed as I led them through the living room and showed them to their seats.

            “Thank you,” I blushed, surprised at this comment. “Would you like water, coffee, tea or cider?”

            “I would like water,” Rudyard Kipling replied with a slight Indian-English accent. “Your china looks so much like my mother's! I feel like I just came home. The table is lovely, Sherry. Thank you for inviting us.”

            My mouth was open far too wide in amazement at this compliment.

            “Oh,” I stuttered, “thank you so much. My mother bought these for me when my kids were teenagers. I had asked for a Correlle set when she wanted to know what I wanted for Christmas because my teens kept breaking things as they washed up. Instead, she bought me these Windemere by Dalton! That was my mom for you!”

            I felt the roses in my cheeks complete their blooming. Rambling on about plates, what was I saying? I was turning to get the other drink requests when my eyes were drawn to the guest I had seated at the head of the table. My heart was leaping with both joy and complete panic. This was the person I had dreamed of meeting face to face. The one I knew, but longed to know. His look was fully centered on me with utter focus and loving compassion.

            “Water for me, also,” he smiled. “And the emerald green of your shirt was my idea! The food smells wonderful and you honor us with your preparations of self and home. How can we ever thank you?”

            “I believe, Jesus,” I whispered as a tear of gratitude and longing slipped down my cheek, “Your presence here is more than I could have ever hoped. It is I who thank you for coming.”

            And the double meanings of those statements hovered over our little group for several heartbeats, before I rushed to pour the water and serve the lasagna to the guests of my dreams.

The Scripture: Revelation 3:20:

             “Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.”

The Prayer: “Dear Lord, I cannot wait to see you face to face – but until then, keep me close. Help me to realize you are not far away on some cloud, but in my heart and mind, only a breath away in a continuing conversation that You initiated at Calvary. Amen.”

The Challenge: As you write about your dinner guests – let your heart out of any box life has placed it in. Open the door to whatever God-sent opportunity is knocking.