20
October
2006
by Vasthi Acosta
Recently on another blog site, Charis Connection, there was a flash fiction contest. Entries had to tell a stroy in 250 words. A story that would leave the reader thinking, maybe even create a shift in consciousness, end with a punch.
I decided to try my hand at writing this short piece. I didn’t win. Didn’t probably even hit the top twenty. The winners were fantastic. Go to the blog and check the stories in the archives.
But I wondered, if you’d read my flash fiction and tell me what you think.
Here goes. . .
If it were today
Maria rushed to prepare for Shabbat. Mama depended on her getting everything ready Friday nights. But she needed to get on the computer before sunset. Her best friend, Sara, would be sending the results of her pregnancy test.
Her heart hammered. Sara could not be pregnant.
Oh, please Adonai.
Sara made a mistake.
Please. Please. Spare her.
The wine glasses tipped and the ting of crystal hitting crystal forced Maria to slow down. She glanced at her watch. Two hours left. She’d do her homework on Sunday after the Sabbath.
Temptatiion. The Rabbi warned of it often. Sara ran to it. Both bethrothed to brothers at birth, Sara had found another love.
Maria rushed to the computer and checked her buddy list. Jose was online. Thank you Adonai, for giving me a love for my bethrothed.
Hey. Wad u get on the algebra test?
Don’t ask.
I passed. Want help?
Trouble by Pink announced Sara was online. Maria switched to her.
Tell me!
I’m dead. I’ll be excommunicated. Who’ll want me now?
No! R u?
I have no hope.
Stop. I’ll c u @ temple. Talk then?
Maria clicked her away message.
The room filled with blinding light. She fell on her knees. Peace covered her like a blanket. As if pulled by a string her head raised. She stared in awe at the vision. Fearful. Majestic beauty.
The angel spoke. “Shalom, favored woman. Eloyhim is with you! Do not be afraid Maria, for God has decided to bless you.”
***
So, what do you think?
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Posted under: Women's Voices . 
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18
October
2006
by Vasthi Acosta
Lately, I have been reading from the book of Jeremiah. This morning, as I turned to a new passage, the headings of several chapters struck me. They read:
Jeremiah’s scroll burned
Jeremiah in prison
Jeremiah thrown in a cistern
Talk about the good life. These passages certainly go against the current popular theology of positive thinking, or feel good Christianity; even against the ‘claim it” or prosperity teachings.
Not that I have anything against positive thinking or feeling good, for that matter. Just that when I look at the life of Jeremiah, Abraham, Moses, David, Esther, Mary, Jonah, Paul (should I go on?), their life was not bread and roses. They knew adversity. Their sense of contentment, well being, or satisfaction didn’t come from their outward circumstances but from their relationship with God.
And, I guess there is the rub. Why do we expect life to be free of trouble? Yes, I know that God gives us the desires of our hearts, even when we are not clear what those are. God is true to his word. And He wants us to live abundantly, free, content. The caveat is that we accomplish this in HIM.
Let me paraphase a popular song, “we must go through the valley, to stand upon the mountain”. And that’s what most of the “feel good” people leave out. God hasn’t promised a life without trouble; actually, He warns us to be ready for them. What He has promised is to be with us through the trouble. To carry us, provide the strength and wisdom needed at the point of need.
And so, I reached the chapter heading in Jeremiah that read:
Jeremiah freed.
Here, take His hand. Walk through this life with Him; through the fire, deep waters, low valley, and on to the mountain top.
Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discourage, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9
And through Him we will soon be free.
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
4
October
2006
By Vasthi Acosta
Cleaning out the coat closet I found a box. In the box I found old journals. Mine. I’ve been keeeping a journal since high school, now decades ago. I slipped the box to a corner and kept cleaning the closet. But the box called to me.
What had I written?
What were my thoughts, so long ago?
Who was I then?
Had I changed, as I believed, or was I still the same?
Would I recognize myself?
You know I had to find out. You know, I sat with the box, pulled out the notebooks and opened randomly to different entries.
Faced with my past self, I was pleased, embarrassed, amused, stirred and moved.
Pleased that I’d kept this record of my life, even if only, to experience that moment, right then, when I revisited myself.
Embarrassed that I’d had such silly worries, as, did this young man like me or not. I married him.
Amused at some incidents I recounted, ice skating mishaps, extravagant gifts from admirers.
Stirred that I’d often written prayers. Prayers to a God I still love, seek to please and serve.
Moved when I relived painful times, the death of a friend, the failed attempts to conceive, the misunderstandings, fights, even deep hurts.
These entries were a gift from my young self to my older self. A gift I never anticipated, or planned, but received nonetheless.
What I couldn’t even suppose, so many years ago, my loving God knew. He knew this moment would arrive. he knew I’d learn from my younger self. For he knows the end from the beginning. After all, he is the Alpha and Omega.
So today, as you go about your daily routine, remember, every choice you make has an impact on your future. Let God lead. He won’t steer you wrong.
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
1
October
2006
by Vasthi Acosta
My husband and I arrived home late, last Thursday. We returned from a committee meeting of the Marriage Ministry, which we lead. Splashed across our apartment door was a huge sign, clearly made by our teenage children, that read:
CONGRATULATIONS
MOM
Surprised and intrigued I rummaged through my brain, for anything that could possibly merit such a salutation. Then I did what every wife would do. I turned to my husband and accused, “Are you in on this?”
Maybe I was being “punked” ala Ashton Kutcher; or for those of you from my era, “Am I on candid camera?”
My husband quickly denied all charges and looked as surprised as me. We unlocked the door, stepped into the apartment, and we’re greeted by the thumping of running feet. My children coming to greet us. The last time that happened I believe they were four and seven years old, respectively.
“Mom. Mom. Carrie called. Carrie called.”
Carrie, who?
“She says you got a book contract. I wrote it down. Here look.” My son waved the yellow post it note.
My heart skipped a beat. Could it be true? My mind didn’t want to embrace the possibility. To climb into the hot air balloon and zoom above the trees, houses, and clouds, fueled by the the fulfillment of a heart’s desire. What if the balloon had no air and deflated right along with all my dreams and hopes?
“Mom, Mom– you’re going to be a published author!” My son hugged me, pride gleaming in his eyes. My daughter stood behind him bouncing up and down in excitement. They believed. Maybe I could too.
And so, I stepped into the hot air balloon and not only did it have air, but it soared!
My novella is one of four novellas to be included in an anthology, published by Barbour, titled, A Big Apple Christmas. It’s due out September 2007. The other three novellas will be written by Gail Sattler, Lynn Sowell, and my own personal angel, Carrie Turansky.
It is true. God does give us the desires of our heart.
Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4.
Amen!
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Posted under: On Being a Parent, Women's Voices . Email This Post
20
September
2006
by Vasthi Acosta
Oprah said, on a recent show, that she never married because she feared losing who she was; having to compromise her essence for the sake of another person. The show presented the premise that marriage could be destructive to a woman’s individuality. Lance Armstrong’s ex-wife claimed she lost her dreams, aspirations and strength when she married, because her life became all about her husband and his dreams, his success, his achievements.
As I listened my heart felt heavy and an inner voice rebelled.
The limitations they placed on marriage, spoke more about the person, than the institution.
After 26 years of marriage, my experience has been the complete opposite of Lance Armstrong’s former wife.
Instead, within marriage I found:
- the security and confidence to fully become myself and reach for my dreams;
- a cheerleader for my achievements;
- a soft, safe place to fall, when life knocks me down;
- an adventure;
- the privilege of watching another life unfold, up close and intimate.
For me, marriage set me free. Free to be vulnerable, expose my doubts and fears, and still be loved. Free to develop my gifts and talents. Free to try. Free to fail.
Within marriage, I have become a better, stronger, more confident me. A gift I never anticipated. I just wanted to live my life alongside this man. To have our lives be intertwined. It became much more than that.
As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another. (Pro. 27:17)
This is what marriage should be. Not a diminishing of one, for the sake of the other, but a joining of two, so both, become better, stronger, richer, freer.
Marriage is not easy. There is plenty of sacrifice and compromise. But what, worth having, doesn’t require the same?
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
11
September
2006
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Why are they building a field in my back yard?
Well, actually not in my back yard, because I don’t have one, living in a Manhattan apartment as I do. It’s the park two blocks away. And it’s not really being built. The baseball field already exists. It’s the 3,000 American flags planted there that disturbs.
They’ve planted these flags in my children’s park. Where they swung on swings, slid on slides, dug in the sand box and got soaked with the sprinkler.
They’ve planted these flags to commemorate the lost lives of 9/11.
And I’m angry.
This anger is familiar. I feel it whenever a movie comes out about this event. Whenever a news item mentions it. Whenever the anniversary rolls around and I know they’ll start showing those video clips again. You know the ones. I feel it anytime my bruise is touched by memory.
Intellectually, I know people need to revisit this event. People grieve in their own way. People look for ways to cope with their pain, their loss. I know that for some it is therapeutic. Maybe even for me.
And yet, even five years later I still can’t face it.
I don’t want those flags in my park. I don’t want to acknowledge our loss. I don’t want to remember the pain, horror, fear, loss.
But there the flags stand. Lives lost, families altered, futures gone.
There they wave. Life still lived. Families still united. Hope still present.
It hurts to remember.
But I need to, and so do my children.
Today we’ll walk among the flags and remember. And cry. And hurt. And still hope.
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Posted under: Women's Voices . Email This Post
1
September
2006
I don’t know about you, but as Latino parents, who came from poverty and are raising children in middle class America, we struggle with two things:
(Well, actually we struggle with a lot of things, but today I’m only going to address these two.)
1. How can we help our children become bilingual, and therefore, pass on to them the wealth of speaking, reading and writing in two languages?
2. How do we help our children become sensitive to those who don’t have all the comforts they enjoy?
I don’t want you to think that my husband and I have resolved this struggle. Actually, we’ve realized it is a continuous struggle, one we tackled daily by our choices. But a recent decision, seemed to be, the ‘kill two birds with one stone’, solution.
A missions trip to Nicaragua.
1. They’d get to practice their Spanish.
2. They’d get to see poverty, up close and personal and have a chance to positively contribute. Although, they’ve had limited exposure to poverty in Manhattan, we thought the distance and exotic location might have a greater impact.
What does the Bible say?
His ways are not our ways; His thoughts are not our thoughts.
You betcha!
My husband and son, just returned from seven days helping a missionary couple (Tony & Ginny Morales) in Matagalpa, Nicaragua.
They have been transformed.
In seven days, the team of 16 ordinary American citizens, built a basketball court for a local Christian elementary school, ran a free dental and health clinic, conducted street outreach with puppetry, human videos and skits, gave a pastoral conference on marriage counseling, ministered to youth groups and even did a bit of shopping.
Did my son practice his Spanish? Yes.
Did he see poverty? Yes.
Did he come to appreciate his comfortable, blessed life here in the States? Yes.
But he wants to go back.
He wants to spend a whole year in that third world country.
My fourteen year old, i-pod loving, X-box maniac, computer addict, is willing to give it all up, because God opened his heart to see a need. A need he feels led to meet.
That was really my heart’s desire.
And God knew it.
More important than becoming bilingual. More important than relating to his parents’ childhood economic circumstances. More important than having a new experience.
A changed heart–that longs to do God’s will.
Every Christian mother’s desire for her child. Rejoice with me.
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Posted under: On Being a Parent . Email This Post
27
August
2006
Note from Meredith: Welcome to Vasthi Acosta, our newest Violet Voices contributor! Hope to hear more from you soon, Vasthi. Welcome her by leaving lots of good comments about this great driving story. And if you aren’t a contributor yet, what are you waiting for? Click on Tell Your Story on the right for more info.
My 17 year old daughter is learning to drive.
Yes! It’s terrifying!
What is this tiny princess doing behind a wheel of destruction?!
Except, she’s not tiny, but five foot eight inches, with dark huge eyes and straight brown hair that caresses her bottom. She’s a Latina Pocahontas–but that’s her mother talking.
As I dealt with the multiple, swirling feelings inside me, regarding my daughter’s rite of passage, I remembered learning to drive at her age. In my time, you couldn’t show up at school, on your birthday, without your driver’s license in hand. Proof that you had indeed turned seventeen. Even school officals expected you to be late to school on that day.
I remember the first time I sat behind a steering wheel and felt the power of the engine–realized all the damage I could wreak with just a flip of my wrist. A sobering moment. As I drove down the street, I noticed for the first time all the possible dangers. To the right, a mother holding a child’s hand, waiting at the curb. To the left, an immense oak tree that could swallow me and the car whole. I had to steer straight.
Once on the highway, I had to learn how to pass the speeding 18 wheelers, without hyperventilating. I needed to focus, not on the truck to my right or the guardrail to my left, but straight ahead. Keep my eyes on the car before me and not waver.
These were important lessons.
Proverbs 4:25-27 says:
Let your eyes look staright ahead, fix your gaze directly before you. Make level paths for your feet and take only ways that are firm. Do not swerve to the right or the left; keep your foot from evil.
This is what I want for my daughter, and not just as she learns how to drive, but as she maneuvers through life. I want her to learn that looking to the left or right won’t get her safely home. Instaed, she needs to focus straight ahead; gaze directly at Jesus and her paths will be made level.
Don’t we all need to do this?
Wouldn’t it be a great driving lesson for life?
Let’s purpose to do it today. In the meantime, if you live anywhere near New York City, watch out– my daughter’s on the road.
From Meredith: Here are some links regarding teens and driving that looked pretty good!
Drive Home Safe
Teen Driving
I Promise Program
TeenDriving.Com
Written By: Vasthi Acosta
Posted under: On Being a Parent . Email This Post
