The Case: Short Story Monday’s Muse Results from November 2nd 2015

Thursday has rolled upon us with a lovely encore of what it meant to be summer! Its 74F here with a gentle breeze and mostly blue skies. I cannot complain. On to our task. Monday's Muse results time. I hope you enjoy what I have come up with. To view the original prompt,and maybe even give it a shot, please do so by clicking Here.


The Case

“After all these years, all the searching and money spent, she finally had the case in hand. Why then, with the locks unlatched, was fear preventing her from opening it?” She silently berated herself, calling herself the old names that the others used to call her, before cupping her numbing lips with her own trembling hands.

She was over that, over them, over the years of ridicule. She had made herself into a champion with the help of no one. Everyone who mocked her was now beneath her.

She huffed with a sardonic laugh. She could literally buy and sell them three times over and still have enough disposable income to spend her summer in Barbados.

Yet somehow, no matter how much money she had made, no matter how many ladders she had climbed and then burned behind her so no one else could follow-or survive their fall as she tossed them down for that matter-she still couldn’t pay the devil enough to keep him from mocking her or forcing her to sing the words of his song.

“You are nothing. You are the daughter of a john and a harlot. No matter how much you wash you will always be filthy trash.” 

She shuddered and slapped the lid of the case with her hand. Angry tears caused the dusty leather to brighten with a rich reddish hue, it reminded her of…blood, His blood. Again she covered her mouth but this time stepped away from the case.

She had so desperately wanted to know. She wanted to know the truth of who she was, who she really was beyond the labels, beyond the lies, beyond the devil’s wicked song.

“You are redeemed and purchased with a price, the precious atoning blood of Jesus.”  Beau’s words rang in her ears like the sweetest bell and the memory of his radiant smile made her do a cringing turn in shame, turning her away from her past and her shame. Beau had encouraged her after having found her in a vulnerable state. The warmth in his liquid brown eyes had drawn out confessions of her soul, intimate things she had never told a single person…not on this side of her life.

But she had told Beau, she told him everything, and he listened. He led her to Christ that day, led her back to Him was more the truth. She’d become the prodigal daughter who’d taken everything from her Father only to waste it. Except she hadn’t wasted her hard-gained wealth. She had simply wasted herself in anger and bitterness.

Beau had made her feel vulnerable, like the little girl, daughter of the john and the harlot, the little girl’s whose life and identity was piled up in an old suit case covered in dust, the truth of who she was, her shame. But the tear that had made the leather look like blood reminded her of more Beau had said.

“The Mercy Seat was covered with blood which sat above the Ark of the Covenant. The seat was covered in blood so that the Letter of the Laws, perfect as they were, so perfect they could not bend in mercy towards us but could only condemn us, point out our debt and sin, was also covered so that when a Holy God looked down upon the Ark, He didn’t see the perfect law and our imperfection, He saw the Blood that atoned for our imperfection.” Beau clasped her hand. “When you gave your life to Christ, His blood covered everything against you, passed, present and future. His blood covers you. When God the Father see’s you now, all He see’s is His lovely daughter, redeemed by His precious Son’s blood and mercy, saved by Grace through Faith. Case closed.” 

She’d taken Beau’s words, taken the truth and within a week’s time allowed the devil’s tune to turn her heart cold, colder. She’d planned to fire Beau. Now she stood in front of her past, staring at her tears that reminded her of the blood upon the mercy seat and all she could do was think of Him and think of Beau. She’d been thinking of either of them.

Throwing caution to the wind she dialed Beau’s number on her mobile phone. He answered after the third ring. “Hello, Beau. It’s me. I need your assistance with a case, I need you to help me close it for good. Thank you. God-God bless you, Beau.”


As always, I am very surprised at the direction this story chose to take. I did not see this as being a story of redemption and the perfect work of Yeshua Jesus, but that is what it was, is. What blesses me most to say, and having already said in the story is that His redemption of us is final. Nothing can change that, but even when we are redeemed and wholly excepted by God, we still need to allow time for His healing. Sometimes this is instant and other times it takes time. Furthermore, we need the help of others to help us on our journey. We weren’t designed to go it alone. I hope this tale has blessed you, and if you have any questions regarding faith in Yeshua Jesus please feel free to ask!



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