Writing Prompt 4

It was an unexpected visit.

Sharrie Hart wanted to be left alone with no one reminding her of what she'd lost. But, there it was...the doorbell. Should she ignore it like the many before this one?


She shoved her feet into her slippers and padded across her bedroom floor. With one look into the hallway mirror, she knew she looked like death warmed over, too bad she hadn't of died. It would've been better than living with the horrible guilt and grief of Tom's death.If only she hadn't been driving the car? If only she could turn back the clock?

The doorbell rang again...twice this time. She was coming, good gracious! She passed her wedding pictures hanging on the living room wall, tears welled in her eyes for the millionth time. How could she live without him? They were so happy together. She remembered their summer getaway to Cancun and how his donkey couldn't make it up the hill with him on it. They laughed at him tugging the mules reins until he finally made it to the top.

A knock startled her. She managed to wipe her tear stained face with the sleeve of her robe and stumbled into the foyer. There on the front table set the floral arrangement Tom had specially made for her when they bought the house. She choked on the hiccups which erupted from within.

Would life continue to be one cry after another? With new resolve she clasped the front door and opened it. She couldn't believe her eyes.


Tom stood in the doorway.

"I've been trying to get your attention for two weeks." He said with love in his eyes. "Where have you been?"


She jumped into his arms and wept. He picked her up and carried her into the living room, dropping them both onto the couch. His fingers raked through her hair. His lips caressed her neck.

"I thought you were dead?" she questioned him.

"I am."

"Then how are you here?"

"God saw your sorrow and allowed me to come back for a short time to say goodbye," he kissed her lips.


"We never got to say goodbye."


No, she couldn't let go of him! Not this time, not ever. She appreciated her heavenly father for noticing her sorrow, but she didn't want him to leave without her.

"How can we stay together?"

"We can't," he said. "Not until you finish the good work he began in you."

"Did you complete it?"

"Yes," he said. "The morning I died I had witness to a young boy."

She held him tighter. She do anything to be with him. Perhaps, a trip to Africa? or to some other exotic mission field?


"Tell me what my purpose is?" she demanded. "I have to be with you."

"That's between you and God," he said. "I don't know."

"Well, every body's mission is to spread the good news," she thought fast. "What if I find a way to spread the gospel quickly?"

"Now your thinking."

"How long will it take?"

"I don't know," he said. "It's different for everybody."

"How much longer do we have?"

"My time's up," he nodded to an angel who appeared at the door.

"NO!" she screamed.


Tom disappeared.

Two weeks later, Sharrie was a guest on the Oprah Winfrey show. She was interviewed for the educational work she'd done in Niger. Sharrie glanced at her watch. She didn't want to make the great 'O' hurry, but she had to catch a plane to China. Awaiting her was the greatest underground revival ever and she was the main speaker.