A short piece of faith-based flash fiction written during worship, exploring courage and the subtle power of trusting God in the heat of trials.
Heat rolls over her in waves as she walks, buffeting her in rough clouds of hot soot that singe her cheeks.
The ground beneath her bare feet is hot enough to sting, yet she never breaks her stride.
She walks with her back straight, her eyes trained forward, her lips set in focused resolve.
A flowing, bone-white gown clings to her frame, its tattered train follows behind her, slowly turning gray.
Long, wavy red hair spills over her shoulders and streams behind her as the heat billows again.
Flames dance all around her, some growing bold enough to brush her skin.
She pays no mind to the danger.
Doesn’t turn.
Doesn’t flinch.
She walks.
Quiet power moves with her, steady and unshaken. Her footsteps are as sure as her gaze.
The flames bloom brighter, swelling as they dive at her from every side, frantic now. They devour everything around her, ashes floating thick in the air, clinging to her sweat-slick skin. With nothing left to consume, they grow desperate to take her too.
Still, her eyes never waver from the path ahead, hidden beyond thick gray clouds of smoke.
She knows.
She knows who waits for her.
She knows His power.
So she walks.
Untouched.
Unburned.
Undeterred.
She is made pure by the heat, yet remains unmarred by the fire’s bite.
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