Love Warms, Stealing Symbols, and Creating Selfies

Love Warms 

The child had discovered many things in her few short years. Tonight she thought of them as she spent her last night wrapped by cold.

Confidence is choosing to not care.
Not caring hardened one, made them as stone.
Stones crumble, with none to keep them from washing away in the storm.
There was no way to shelter oneself from the onslaught of betrayal and treachery one faced from every person that pretended to be friend.

Yet she also knew she could not live much longer. Not without someone to trust, to help her. To show her love’s warmth.

Love must be warm.

She shivered.

“I will if you give me a chance. I love you already.” The voice was distant, as if a memory. But she knew the sound.

She looked about her, hoping to see a face. There were many faces passing by, but none had eyes to see her.

Memories flashed before her eyes. A black book. A man that read words from that book, who spoke in the big, beautiful, warm church. That man did not understand the book’s words. He’d had no time to love her.

But when she heard the words she knew love.

Again the voice spoke to her. She knew it was God. But she wished to know more than His voice. She needed arms to shelter her from the cold world.

“My presence shelters you.”

Oddly enough, His words and presence warmed her. The child closed her eyes, comforted.







Stealing Symbols 

“Your turn,” he says. “Tell me why Christmas is evil.”

I’m happy he’s going to let me explain my side. “You have to understand mythology and ancient history to get a full grasp. I don’t know half as much as I should.”

“Tell me what you know,” he encourages.

“Christmas isn’t Jesus’ birthday. He was born in September. Originally it was a holiday to worship the sun god, not God’s son. And the statue used to depict Baby Jesus is really an idol,” I say this slowly as I try to gather my facts together. “And there’s more. Almost everything Christmas is originated from the pagans.”

“I understand this,”he says. “But things change. When I celebrate Christmas I worship God with what it means to me.”

“What about what it means to God? Do you think that just because it means something different to you it no longer offends Him?”

He shrugs. “Time changes everything. Symbols, practices, they are nothing. Intentions of the heart is what God sees.”

“Such as the rainbow being God’s promise to us, then becoming contorted into gay pride?” I nod as if agreeing, though I do not. “Have you ever noticed what we people do? Christians steal pagan symbols. Pagans steal Christian symbols. Why can’t we all just keep our own!?”

He actually laughs, and I with him.

But part of me feels a little frustrated that he can’t understand what I am trying to say. It matters what Christmas means to God, not us.







Creating Selfies

What do I see?

The only thing one can see when they look into a mirror.

My reflection.

Yet I can change it, make it—me—look just how I want.
Extend a hip.
Smile.
Or maybe don’t smile? That’s in.

My cell phone is is flooded with mirror selfies. Sparkly gold case enclosing the latest, largest iPhone. All a part of the look I’m creating to showcase me.

Stray hair falls through my eyes. That’s a good sign, right? Shows that I’m not completely perfect, even though I hope this selfie says otherwise.

What am I trying to say? I don’t really know... So, I add an inspirational quote. The type that sounds good but if you really sat down to think about it, you’d realize it’s baloney.

Almost done.

I’ve create the me I want people to see. But that’s not all... I now have to decide which filter will best accent my features.

And then to make it less “me” focused: the quote.

Posted!

Likes may tumble in now. I’m inspiring the world with a reflection I’ve created of myself.

But... something’s missing. People see me.

But they don’t.

And it’s my fault.

I don’t want them seeing the real me. I want this to be the real me. Yet I want the real me to be loved, not this false reflection.

So, what do I do?
I start to create another selfie.

I hope you enjoyed today's flash fiction. Which one is your favorite?