by D. T. Powell
– Homeward Bound Series – D.T.’s Story –
God always sends us the people we need. Sometimes, they just arrive unconventionally.
As a child, my parents and teachers instilled in me the truth—Jesus paid for my sin—and when I was four, I made that truth mine by accepting God’s gift of salvation. But like most children who are saved from sin instead of out of it, I had no joy in this incredible gift, because even though my head knew I was God’s, my heart didn’t see the significance.
I spent my next five years as a well-behaved student in a Christian school, but still I had no joy—no real reason to do what was right other than the praise of others and the vague knowledge that God wanted me to do certain things and not others.
My family have always been avid library patrons, and reading and watching new things is part of the library experience, so I thought nothing of it when, during one of our weekly library visits, my mother handed me a VHS tape and said, “I thought you’d like this.”
I watched that tape (and the other five in the series) so many times it wasn’t uncommon for me to have all six tapes checked out for a full month or two. It was a standard story. The heroes work to save the world while the villains try to destroy it. Most children love heroes, and I was no exception, so when the main villain died at the end of the series, I was ecstatic. I even cheered his demise—yes, because he would never cause the heroes problems again, but it was more than that. I hated him, more than I’d ever hated anyone, and I didn’t even know why.
It wasn’t a full year before I discovered series one wasn’t the end of the story. There were two more series I had yet to delve into, so I headed into the second one hopeful… And discovered series one’s villain was still alive. I was so angry I literally said, “Why couldn’t he just stay dead?”
But as this second series progressed, something I hadn’t anticipated happened. This man I’d spent nearly two years despising… changed. I was so conflicted. He was supposed to die again and stay dead this time, not realize he’d been wrong and side with the heroes.
My almost-eleven-year-old heart didn’t know what to do, so I rewatched series two multiple times, hoping to understand. Every time when I came to that moment where the man I hated turned his back on who he’d once been, it was like a stone striking flint, sparking kindling, but never quite catching fire.
I waited a whole year before braving series three, and during that year, God brought to mind the man I’d hated. Over and over, I saw the moment that man changed, and each rehearsal inexplicably fanned those lingering sparks of hope in me—hope that drowned my hate and reached for the possibility that someone so depraved as him could be redeemed.
Halfway through series three, the man I now tentatively appreciated put himself in jeopardy to save the woman he loved. He failed, and she gave her life for him instead.
That was the moment I understood. I had hated this man because he was proud, arrogant, self-absorbed… just like me. Seeing him was like looking at myself in a mirror. Of course, I’d hated him. He brought to mind all the darkness I didn’t want to see. He was God’s finger prodding my heart, showing me why I had no joy.
I bowed my heart to God that day and asked Him to take my darkness and replace it with His light.
I finished series three, and I wasn’t the only one who was different. The man I’d once hated became a man of honor and a defender of goodness, and now, twenty years later, he’s still my favorite character in all of film and literature. And I’d even dare consider him a dear friend.
All through junior high, high school, and college I searched for ways to show others the wonder of what God had done for me. I pursued every medium I could think of. I took music lessons, tried to learn video editing and animation, even tried to get an art degree, only to be kicked out of the program because I wasn’t good enough.
I graduated early with a four-year business degree but was no closer to finding a way to show others God’s amazing love. Not knowing what else to do, I looked for a job, but the economy was bad, and no one wanted a college kid with no work experience, so my days consisted of filling out applications and thinking.
During those four months of seeming silence, God brought to mind the one medium I had never attempted using.
A humble pen.
So, I picked it up.
And I have never put it down.
D. T. Powell has loved stories since before she can remember, and it was love for how God used one of those many stories that prompted her to start writing. She’s worked in the fanfiction community for ten years and continues to contribute to it regularly. While she pursues traditional publication for her original fiction work in the inspirational market, she spends time reading, playing pickleball and coaching middle school volleyball.
To read more from D. T. , connect with her on Facebook, Instagram, AO3, and her website.
This is a great story!
I love it, too, Sarah! It really captured my imagination, and it’s such an encouragement to know that God will use any medium to capture our hearts.
What a good story in a great story! A beautiful reminder that God shows wherever!! 🌺
Ahh, I love this. Accounts like these drive home to me that fiction is, really and truly, as important as some people say it is. Praise God for the ways He makes us love His truth!