Faith

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hebrews 11:6 (ESV) -- And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.

"Are we almost there yet?" I whined. Sam's hand rested on the small of my back, leading me to an unknown place. "How do I know you aren't trying to murder me?" Everything was completely black, and I strained my eyes to some how see through the cloth blindfold.

"If I wanted to murder you, I would have done it a long time ago," Sam chuckled. "Now be patient. We are almost there."

I heard a door swing open and a wave of warmth hit me. It felt like the summer sun, and I could smell flowers. A lot of flowers.

"We're here!" Sam said in a sing-song voice. Then, the blindfold was removed and I could see again. I took in my surroundings with a wide-eyed glance.

"Sam," I said in a hushed whisper. "This place is beautiful." The two of us were standing on a dirt path inside of a huge glass dome, tall trees looming over us. Flowers of many colors and shapes were planted underneath. The most spectacular aspect was the butterflies flitting through the air from flower to flower.

I saw wings of blue and orange, black and white, and every color in between. They flew in looping circles around Sam and me, and I gasped at the beauty. For every butterfly that flew out of sight, three more took its place.

I grinned as I squatted down to the flower by my feet. I held out my index finger and a butterfly climbed onto it. It was a monarch butterfly: my favorite.

I watched it with amazement as its black and orange wings beat twice before it took off and flew into the tree above me. "Butterflies," Sam says solemnly, "are the truest symbols of faith. Their unwavering acceptance of metamorphosis shows their faith in what is to come."

"I just think they are beautiful and free," I said quietly, afraid speaking loudly will scare the butterflies. I stood up and smiled at Sam. "Why did you take me here just to read my poems?"

"You are letting me read them. A day this special deserves a date just as special."

"Oh," I said, feigning understanding. "That's your real interior motive. You just want to say that you took me on a date."

Sam winked and said, "You know me so well, Kaitlyn Faith." Sam took off down the path and I rushed forward to keep up with him.

"Where are we going now?"

"There is an adorable bench up here. I figured we could sit while I read."

I smirked slyly at Sam. "Is the bench just adorable?"

"Absolutely," Sam drawled out. "Just as adorable as your face."

I laughed. "You know, I'm one hundred percent positive your southern accent only comes out when you are being sarcastic."

"Actually, I didn't know that," Sam said. And he completely over-exaggerated his southern accent. "Please enlighten me some more."

Instead of responding, I shoved him to the side. Unfortunately, he didn't fall. But he did drop my notebook he was carrying. I glared at him for that.

We found the little stone bench, and I have to agree with Sam. It was super adorable. The sides were carved to resemble butterflies, and it was in front of a huge flowered bush, adorned with butterflies resting on the flowers.

The two of us sat down and Sam placed my poetry notebook on his lap. I got a sudden case of the nervous butterflies in my stomach. Before I could help myself, I started to ramble. "Almost all of these poems are from after when my mom died because that's when I really started to write. Feel free to skip over the ones at the beginning. They all suck. And some of them get really dark. I feel like you will judge me for my dark thoughts. You don't have to do this you know."