Cleveland--the beginning...

Once upon a time there was a determined little boy making a long journey up to the top of a mountain. He was just eleven years old, but anyone could see there was a profound spirit deep within his large brown eyes that far surpassed his years.
The boy was daring; his little calloused feet were always bare and his eager face was tanned from constant exposure to the sun. He was determined to get to the top of the mountain, come what may.
The boy's name was Cleveland, and all he had with him was a dingy bag bearing a most unusual and precious cargo; a jar with a butterfly. It was not just any butterfly either, it was a butterfly that no scientist could ever have identified, for it was the only one of its kind ever found.
Cleveland, being the clever boy that he was, had miraculously come across the creature and captured it for his grandmother. Her 91st birthday had been the perfect occasion for his special gift. When he had presented the beautiful butterfly to his dear grandmother, larger tears had welled up in her aged hazel eyes. She had taken the jar in her old, withered hands and gazed at the butterfly with an expression of sorrow that Cleveland had not expected.
"Cleveland," Grandmother Rea had said, "why have you caught and caged this poor creature?" The young boy's heart had dropped at her softly spoken reprimand. Her words had stunned him, as she held the jar out to him and again spoke. "Look deeper, Cleveland. This is a free and flying creature. Yes, it is very beautiful, but that is no reason to trap it so."
Cleveland had looked and tried to see what was so evident to his grandmother, he had told her he was sorry that he had not realized what he had done. He couldn't quite understand it, even though he wanted to. Grandmother Rea took his small, sun-browned face in her hands and had told him to take it to the top of the mountain, set it free, and that would be her gift.
So Cleveland, filled with redemptive determination, set out on a journey to the mountain top. To release his prize...the captive butterfly. It was a long way up to the top of the mountain, but Cleveland fixed his eyes upon the summit and began his hike. Over rocks and roots, and through weeds, thistles and trees he climbed. But this he was used to, the wilderness and the wild brush were like old, well-worn paths to the child.
It was warm, with the sun shining golden upon his smooth brow. The wind swirled about the mountain, whispering wildly through the leaves. The air tasted cool and crisp, its sweeping motion soothing his spirit like a dear friend. With the wind urging him onward, Cleveland smiled to himself. There seemed to be no opposition, just encouragement for the journey before him.
Off to the side of his path, a small sinister slither caught the corner of his eye...hoping it wasn't a snake, Cleveland turned fast to see a long brightly-colored cord weaving through the bushes. A darting panic shot through his brain as he analyzed the diamond-shaped head. Instinctively drawing his foot backwards, a strong breeze tugged at his body. His eyes were pinned to the snake, a cold shiver of fear racing down his spine.
....

A story...

I will be posting a recent short story I have been working on in segments here on the blog. The story is about a little boy named Cleveland who is on a journey to redeem himself in the eyes of his beloved grandmother. The obstacles along the way serve to test his character, proving in the end whether he came out tried and true...or not. I started writing this story on June 2, 2011 and I have been on a bit of a journey myself since I began the writing. It turns out that it is the hard decisions we make that truly determine how our character is shaped, and I wanted you to see that how I feel it.
I hope that you enjoy this story and maybe take away something from it that you didn't expect.
Allow me to introduce...Cleveland.

IN courage

Sometimes...sometimes it is difficult to know exactly what to write. I think of all of you who read my blog and I wonder what you need to hear, what would encourage you. There are many times when I am able to just spew out words that flow well and have a lot of depth. You may smile and laugh and think "wow, she is a good writer."
But then there are other times...the hard times. When all of the emotion inside of me lays like a solid lump in my middle and the thoughts I have get stuck somewhere in that lump and it's like untangling a mess of knotted up necklaces to get the words out in some form of sensible order. Each word is a struggle. I can't write, I can't make you smile or laugh cause I have nothing clever to give you.
I just want to be raw and honest and, most of all, sincere. No matter what you have going on in your life right now, hold on to God. He is faithful. I don't yet fully understand what that means, but He is showing me. Even if you feel completely alone and have a whole mess of hurt that you don't know how to bear. He is there with you and you just have to believe that even when you can't feel it.
Be brave.
I am writing this mostly to myself, but if you need it too, well, here it is. We were never promised an easy life, but God promised to be with us. He chose us, created us, in order that He might love us. 
Love--true, pure, honest love--is never wasted.
No one else can sympathize with your hurt and understand your heart like God. Honestly, He made you that way, and knows exactly what you are going through.