Today, we have an allegory. An allegory is a storythat has symbolic meaning, usually spiritual, through a more concrete topic.
Our story comes from Ada Brownell, a retired newspaper reporter and author of Joe the Dreamer: the Castle and the Catapult to be released Jan. 15, 2013; Swallowed by LIFE: Mysteries of Death, Resurrection and the Eternal. Blog http://www.inkfromanearthenvessel.blogspot.com. And now without further ado….
HERE LIE MY TALENTS
Rest Forever By Ada Brownell
Nobody likes a cemetery—especially me. That’s why it was almost more than I could do to follow Conscience out there last night.
I stumbled along beside Conscience between humpy and sunken graves. The wind whistled through the pine trees. A coyote cried in the distance. Eerie shadows danced on the white marble headstones in the cloudy moonlight.
I knew where we were headed. It had been six months since I made the inscription on the tombstone: “Here Lie My Talents—Rest Forever.”
“You were discouraged too easily,” Conscience was saying.
“I was always making a fool of myself,” I argued. “Remember when I accompanied the trio on the piano and forgot what key I was playing in before they got past the second verse?”
Conscience laughed. “No one remembers it but you.”
“They don’t need me,” I said stubbornly. “It’s like a contest to see who’s going to do what in every service. I feel like a hypocrite every time I participate.”
“You did enjoy it, though, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I love to do things for the Lord. I like to feel I contribute something to praise and worship Him.
The look Conscience wore was wise and kind. “That’s why I asked you to come out here. God wants workers who will serve Him willingly. The Lord gets little joy from those who seek men’s praise.”
“But I’m afraid!”
“The servant mentioned in the parable in Matthew was afraid, too. He buried his one talent because of fear. He was called a wicked and slothful servant and cast into outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. Stiff penalty, eh?”
I almost stumbled over a grave marker. A low cry escaped my lips as a chill climbed my spine.
Conscience took my arm. His strong arm steadied me. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hasty in giving up,” I said half under my breath.
“It’s not too late,” Conscience said confidently. “You can dig up your talents.”
“But won’t they be decayed by now?”
Conscience handed me a shovel. I walked to the grave and slowly lifted out a scoop of dirt. The more dirt I removed, the more excited I became. Finally they were all uncovered. I lifted them out.
“See,” Conscience said wisely. “Talents don’t decay; they just rust. They’ll be in fine shape after you use them a little.”
I laughed. It was good to get the feel of my talents again. Suddenly I felt strong and reckless. I picked up a big rock with my free hand and heaved it with all the strength I had. It hit on target. Pieces of white stone scattered over the empty grave. The letters of the inscription looked like a scrambled puzzle.
I held my talents close to me and walked away, determined to use them for the glory of god, not the praise of men.
©Ada Brownell 2012
Here’s a little info on Ada’s soon to be released book-JOE THE DREAMER: THE CASTLE AND THE CATAPULT. Enter an area where people are missing and radicals want to obliterate Christianity. After Joe Baker’s parents mysteriously disappear, he finds himself chased vicious man. Joe and an unusual gang team up to find his mom and dad.