This is a world not unlike our own: people still struggle, sinners still need a Saviour, the Good Shepherd still reaches out to them…however, the gifts received upon salvation are different, although no less potent, than ours.

Serenity

Summer was wrestling mentally with herself.  It was a battle she’d often fought before, but she could reach no conclusion, and so the war raged on.  One side of her kept reminding her:

“Just be thankful for your salvation.  Your gift isn’t the important part.”

  And she really was grateful, and she knew that she shouldn’t measure her favor in God’s eyes by the gift He’d given her.  The other side, though, was at times no less forceful. 

“How could you possibly serve God with a gift such as yours?  Why couldn’t you have been given something greater?”

There was some envy mixed in that argument, but also a measure of truth.  Summer had been given the ability to drain away a person’s anger with a single touch, for which she’d been given a new name, Serenity.  An extraordinary gift to be sure, but not, in her eyes, as great as control over light or wind, or the ability to fly and float like an angel, as some of her friends had.  She would see them battling those who had surrendered themselves to demons in return for great power, and wished she could be there with them, on the front lines of the Lord’s army.  She knew though, that she would only be a burden to them, and would continue on her way with a mournful sigh.

This argument distracted her as she got ready for the day, gave her a struggle to pay attention during school, and locked her in a separate world as she was sitting in a local coffee shop, her favorite place to sit and while away the hours.  She also did her daily Bible study there, and was trying desperately to focus.  She was reading in 1 Corinthians that day, studying something about the body of Christ.  Summer was a relatively new Christian, so it didn’t quite make much sense yet.

In the middle of the study, though, she happened to look up, and noticed a young man enter the coffee shop.  He didn’t just enter, though; it was one step short of storming in.  He wasn’t consciously showing it, but Summer could read the signs of repressed anger.  His movements were very slightly jerky and violent, as if every motion was a small way to vent his frustration.  His mouth was firmly closed, and his eyes told anyone that valued their safety to stay away.  But Summer knew that even the subtle motions were a mask: he was hiding pain.  The Spirit spoke to her, telling her to reach out and show him the love of Christ.  And Serenity responded.

She walked up behind the young man and touched his shoulder, normally just a way to get someone’s attention, but also gave Serenity a chance to use her gift.  The moment her hand made contact, a wave of heat rolled through her arm, pulling away the rage the youth had been carrying with him.  Now she could get to the heart of it.

“What’s wrong?” Serenity asked when the young man turned around.

At first, he seemed confused.  He’d wanted to lash out and tell her to mind her own business, then retreat back into himself.  Now, however, he had no rage from which to draw that outburst.  Not only that, though.  There was something in this girl’s eyes…genuine concern and compassion, a desire to listen and help…love.  But not a kind of love he’d seen before.  It was unconditional, perfectly loyal, so deep and profound it couldn’t possibly be human…he could trust this one.

“A lot of things…” he replied, almost breaking down into tears.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Yeah.”

An hour later, after tears and prayer, a different young man walked out of that coffee shop.  A new creation.

Serenity sat there praising God.  Now she knew her purpose.  Maybe her gift wasn’t as dynamic as some, but even the little things matter in God’s eyes.  And because of that, that’s what mattered to her.

Serenity couldn’t know, but God knew that through Him, she’d not only lead the way to His Son, but had also saved 12 people from being shot the next day.