Creative Christianity: The Widow's Quest - Part 4

(The following story is based on the parable in Luke 18:1-8. It is a fictional account with allegorical aspects. This is a fictional world with characters and events created by me.)

Connie, Rocky, and their little band of pups continued along through the manufacturing district until they entered another area of residences. This neighborhood looked a little better off than the area she had found Rocky, and substantially better than the Rift, but it still looked worn and weary. Connie wondered if that was how she looked?

She knew they needed to get something to eat, but toting along a pack of pups probably wasn’t going to let them in to very many places.

“I think we need to find a place to rest for a little while.” Connie spoke out loud.

“And get something to eat. I’m starving, and I think Isabella is too.” Rocky looked behind them.

Image by Lenka Novotná from Pixabay

“Isabella?” Connie looked to where the mother pup was following at some distance. She looked ready to drop. The two puppies who were walking still seemed to have plenty of spunk.

Rocky nodded. “Yeah, that was my baby sister’s name.”

Connie’s heart hurt. The boy had been through so much loss. She had too. She decided they weren’t going to lose Isabella. She stopped walking so the the pup could catch up, and as they waited she noticed a young woman pushing a stroller down a side street.

She handed Rocky her side bag with the two sleeping pups and said, “Stay right here. I am going to see if we can get some help.”

She jogged towards the woman. Trying to not look threatening, she slowed to a walk and smiled while still a few yards off.

Image by Patou Ricard from Pixabay

“Hello,” she began.

“I don’t got any money, so don’t try to sell me anything,” the woman clipped.

Connie could see as she got closer, while the woman was younger, she looked tired, and not particularly clean. She quickly attempted to put her at ease.

“Oh, I am not a sales person. I was just wondering if you might help me, you see I am new to the area, and my nephew and I have been walking for a while and wondered if there was a park nearby where we could rest for a bit.” She felt bad lying about Rocky, and she also didn’t mention getting food. She didn’t want the woman to think she had money.

“You got that dog’s papers?” The woman jutted her chin out towards where Rocky, Isabella and the two puppies waited.

Connie tried to think fast. “Well, I would gladly get her papers, but as I said I am new to the area and we actually just found her today. I felt so bad for her and her little pups.”

The woman drew closer, and Connie could see a little boy in the stroller, probably about two. “Do you think I could show them pups to my boy? He just loves animals, and they are such a rarity around here, since they all need to be papered. We can’t afford the fees, let alone the food to feed one.”

Connie relaxed a little. “I understand. Everything is so expensive. A pet is a big commitment. I am Connie, by the way.”

The woman finally smiled. “I’m Maribelle, and this is my boy Adam.”

Connie bent down. “It is very nice to meet you and your momma, Adam. If you don’t mind walking over, the mother pup is very tired. She needs food, but I wasn’t sure where to go.'“

She and Maribelle started walking and the young woman said, “If you need food there is an old church on the corner of Rawls and Jones. They serve lunch and dinner. You just have to sit and listen to the pastor talk about his religion.”

Connie took that information and filed it away. When they reached Rocky and the dogs, Maribelle picked up one of the puppies and showed him to her son. The boy laughed and wiggled in his seat with joy.

Maribelle stood up and asked, “You a steamer? I see your bag there.”

“Well, I uh…yes, I am.”

“If you and your family want to come to my house, I’ll give you food in exchange for work on our water heater. It stopped working a few weeks back. Sure would be nice to have hot water again.”

Constance looked at Rocky who nodded enthusiastically. She knew she was taking a chance. She had long ago stopped trusting people and knew this could be a trap. Desperate people did desperate things. She knew that fact well from living in the Rift. She looked at the young mother and her little boy and thought something about them felt right.

She nodded. “That would be nice, and I will take a look at your water heater.”

Image by Andreas Lischka from Pixabay

Maribelle smiled brightly. “Wonderful! Adam, did you hear that we are going to have company and you can play longer with the puppies.”

Adam clapped his hands and said, “…upppies!!”

They all laughed. Connie picked up her bag of tools, where the two smaller pups were just starting to wake up. She pulled each one out. Rocky took one, and Maribelle, much to Adam’s delight put the other one in the stroller with him. They made their way to Maribelle’s home.

Connie found herself marveling at feelings that rose inside her; feelings she hadn’t had for a very long time. Gratitude, joy and hope. Still, the Rift part of her wondered how long it would last. How long before she was, once again, disappointed, let down, and hurt? How long?

Creative Christianity: The Widow's Quest - Part 3

Rocky was an amiable companion. It seemed he had not had anyone to talk to, or at least anyone who would listen to him for quite a while. He talked about the neighborhood he lived in before his father had left and his mother died. He told her how when he was very small it had been a decent place; a place where people looked out for each other and took care of each other.

“I’m not sure what happened. I think I was so caught off guard when my dad left and didn’t come back that I didn’t realize what was beginning to happen in our neighborhood. The older people were dying, and the other adults were taking off, just like my dad…”

Constance was surprise at how perceptive and willing to share this young man was. Again, her heart swelled with feelings, not only for this boy, but for the children she had always wanted to have.

Image from Pixabay

They had left the area closest to the Rift boundary behind and were slowly making their way through an an industrial part of the lower south side of Minward. This is the area her forged work papers said she was assigned to do maintenance. She wanted to get as far from there as possible. She saw workers milling about waiting for the morning whistle to open the gate and let them inside.

Just as they crossed an alley way they both heard a soft bark. Connie turned her head, but kept her pace. Rocky, turned into the alley.

“Hey, come look at this!”

Connie stopped, but didn’t venture into the alley. “Rocky, I think it’s a bad idea to get too close to any wild animals around here. Not only that, but we need to keep moving.”

“But Connie, we can’t leave her. She needs our help.” Rocky was persistent.

Connie finally relented. She looked around again, and moved slowly into the alley. She drew up next to the boy and there, in a partially decomposed wooden crate, was a female dog with four young pups who were currently eating their breakfast.

Image by Montree Ladlongmuang from Pixabay

Before Connie could stop him, Rocky had bent down and was petting the mother and all her babies. The dog licked his hands and face causing him to laugh. The little pups whimpered and wiggled, their attention distracted from suckling to a new play companion. Rocky soon had his lap full of yapping, licking, biting puppy ardor.

Connie was about to scold him, but then she realized this was probably something he needed. She wondered how long it had been since he had been able to be just a boy. She decided the Manor at Minward wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the Rift. She could give the lad a few minutes of joy. She plopped down on the ground beside him, and soon had puppies in her lap as well which made her forget for a few moments the hardship life had brought her.

After a few more minutes Connie put her hand gently on the boy’s shoulder. “We really should not stay here any longer. We might draw someone’s attention that isn’t friendly.”

“But what about the dogs? We can’t just leave them.” Rocky’s voice was concerned.

“I’m sorry, Rocky, but where I am going there won’t be any place for a dog, let alone her pups. It would be different if you had a home you could go back to, or if I wasn’t on a quest.”

“A quest?”

Constance hesitated, but then she made a decision. “Yes, Rocky. I am on a quest to talk to the Lord of Minward about bringing justice into the Rift.”

Rocky’s attention left the puppies and focused on her face. “You’re from the Rift? I didn’t think anyone ever left there, unless they are a Hy-Bred.”

“Well, that’s mostly true…unless you have friends who can forge work papers.”

Rocky’s eyes widened. “You mean, you are kind of like a spy?”

Connie laughed. “Hardly! I’m no more a spy than you are the Lord of Minward. I’m just one person trying to make a difference and find redemption and justice for people suffering in the Rift.”

She stood up. “We need to get going.”

Rocky put each of the pups back by their mother then stood up. “I wish we could give them some food or something…especially the mom. She looks like she needs it more than them.”

“She’s doing what mothers do; giving up her own comfort and needs to give life to her own.”

Rocky gave a little wave and they moved quickly out of the alley.

It wasn’t long before they began walking again that they heard numerous tiny yips and yaps coming from behind them. They both turned around and there came the mama dog with one pup in her mouth and the other three waddling along behind her as quickly as their little legs could carry them.

“Connie, look! They want to come with us.”

Constance watched the dogs struggling to follow them, and once again her heart softened. She knew at the rate they were going she might never get to the Manor of Minward, but somehow that didn’t seem quite as urgent as it had a few hours ago. She looked at the boy, and then at the pups. She began unraveling the scarf she had around her neck, then she opened her pack and got down on her knees.

“What are you doing?” Rocky asked.

“Well, we won’t get very far if we don’t give all those short little legs some help. I’m going to make a soft place in my pack where the smaller two can lay. Those two bigger ones should be able to keep up.”

Image by Aleš Háva from Pixabay

Rocky looked excited. “You mean we are going to take them with us?”

Connie nodded.

“Oh yippee! I’ve never had a pet.”

Connie picked up the two smaller puppies and put them gently down into her side pack. They snuggled together and almost immediately fell asleep.

“Come on. We’ve got to get some food some where soon, for us and them.”

Connie was not sure why she was accumulating this rag tag band of misfits, but she knew she had to help those who were less fortunate. Maybe it was how she had been raised. Maybe it was something she knew her husband would have wanted. Maybe it was God trying to show her she was not alone. Whatever the answer she knew they were now in it together.

The Bee Keeper

This is a fictional work. These are my musings on the work of the Holy Spirit in prayer as written in Romans 8:26 - “In the same way the Spirit also helps our weaknesses; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings to deep for words.”

The man stood in the open watching the light bees streak across the darkening sky. As they fell, their luminescence began to fade. He had to capture them quickly before they went dark. He could still catch them after they fell by listening for their unique buzzing. He darted this way and that, scooping the bees into his sack which began to glow and buzz softly from within.

Image by Oscar Portan from Pixabay

“There are a lot of you tonight.” He said it out loud, in part to remind himself of this responsibility the Father had given him.

While the light bees weighed nearly nothing in their glowing state, he knew when he pulled each one from the sack it would weigh heavily on him until he had finished the plea. Each petition was different. Many were not heavy, but more the stuff of wishes and dreams. However, as time passed it seemed that more and more of them were bloated so full of pain and sadness, he often had to go to his brother to ask for help bearing the weight.

When his sack was full, he made his way back to his room. He lay the sack on the table near the window then began to prepare his floor and bed. He always made sure he had plenty of blankets and fluffy pillows. The Father spared no expense for he and his brother, because he had given them the most difficult tasks.

Image by David Greenwood-Haigh from Pixabay

It was an odd conundrum, to be so powerful as to create a world, but to know the depths of pain and suffering because of their love for the creation.

He went to the table and opened the bag. He pulled out the first bee. It was completely dun, but it buzzed softly. He sat on the floor and held it in his clasped hands. Raising his hands to his mouth he blew gently over the bee. The transformation was instantaneous. The bee became light, and sound, and color. It blossomed into whispers, tears and then rants. In that instant he knew for whom he was to pray. In that moment he was driven to his face on the floor where he began to groan and tremble.

There were times, like now, when the prayers were so heavy he could not stand under their weight. The more incoherent the prayer, the heavier it weighed. So many did not know how to pray, not because they lacked the knowledge, but because their hearts were so entangled with the ones they prayed for. Their prayers came out like mumbled, tear filled whisperings, or loud, frustrated, pain filled moans.

Image by Rebecca Martell from Pixabay

“Lord, God Almighty…my daughter!”

“Creator in heaven…my marriage…help!”

“Father…when…when…when?”

As his heavenly breath breathed over each bee, their rants, moans and tears turned into the purest and sweetest prayers. He knew each and every need, want and desire. He lifted them up, his own body taking the toll of bearing each and every request.

He finished a particularly difficult prayer, his body still trembling from the weight of it. He was sweating, yet chilled. He heard the door open to his room, then felt a gentle hand on his soaked back.

“Brother, your work is heavy tonight. Let me help you bear these dear ones to our Father’s throne.”

He nodded as his brother knelt in front of him. His gentle face was filled with empathy. He knew what it was like to bear this weight. He had born their weight on a rough, wooden cross. He knew them in a way that he was only just beginning to understand.

“Their stings are potent tonight, Brother!”

He smiled. His smile always could light up the world around them. “I am all too aware of their stings, but they do not understand what they ask or what they do. It is in part due to the constraints their flesh puts upon them.”

“But why is it so hard for them to believe, to accept, to have faith? We know our Father is fully good.”

His brother nodded. “We do, but we abide with the Father. It takes them time to grasp the idea that they too can abide with Him…and truly, one day shall abide with us…for those who believe.”

He nodded in agreement. “For those who believe. Thank you, Brother.”

The brothers sat knees to knees cherishing each and every light bee pulled out of the sack. Their unity bore the pain, their brotherhood embraced the hurting, and their love turned all of it into a stream of light and rejoicing, a sacrifice of worship to their Father, the King.

Relentless - Part 6: Home

Laney, could hear the steady beep, beep, beep of the machine monitoring her heart. She knew where she was, and what was going on. She was dying, but an amazing peace surrounded her, a living, breathing presence. She thought back to all those years ago, the night Steve walked out on her; the night the Shadowed Ones tried to get her to take her life; the night she met her unborn daughter. That night she had given her heart back to its maker; the King.

Image by OsloMetX from Pixabay

“GG?” A sweet, young voice called her name and she could feel the tender hand on her own. She opened her eyes.

Her youngest great grandchild stood next to her hospital bed. He was only eight, but his faith in the King was as strong and as deep as a mighty tree. She smiled at him.

“Silas.” Her voice came out in a raspy whisper.

“GG? Are you going to see Him? Are you going to see the King?” His eyes were wide with hopeful, childlike anticipation.

Laney managed a nod. “Yes, sweetheart. Yes I am.”

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

Laney turned her head and saw the room filled with her family. She could see Steve in every single one of them. The thought made her smile. Steve hadn’t really given up on her, just like the King and His Son, he relentlessly pursued her.

For a long time she carried the guilt of her abortion, and it made seeing Steve even harder, but gradually, time, and the King’s soothing words reminded her she was forgiven. She was made new, and nothing ever captured her attention again, like His love.

Silas squeezed her hand. “GG, when you get there can you tell Gpa I miss him? Can you also say hi to Cocoa, and Nut?”

Laney managed a soft chuckle as she thought about the last two dogs she and Steve had rescued. The grandkids had been a little older than Silas when they adopted a dark brown puppy from a puppy mill, and a fluffy, white, very busy puppy from the Humane Society.

Image by carpenter844 from Pixabay

“Silas, I will tell them, and I’ll tell Myles, Sophie, Frito, and Chip.”

Silas’ brow wrinkled. “Were those your doggies when you were younger?”

“Oh, yes, Silas. Myles and Sophie were the dogs who helped rescue me. Frito and Chip were your dad and Aunt Evi’s dogs as they grew up.”

Steven Jr. stepped forward and put his hands gently on Silas’ shoulders. “Come on, bud. We need to let Gram rest.”

Silas squeezed her hand one more time then let his father lead him a way from the bed. Laney looked at all of the blessings the King had given her. His grace and mercy showed in every single face that stood in that room.

She lifted her hand towards her son. “Steven, come.”

Steven stepped to the bed and put his arm around his mother lifting her so she could see everyone.

“I love every single one of you, and I know you love me. You all know my story, because I never want you to go down the road I did…to run away from the King. No matter what happens in your lives, only He is truly trustworthy, and loves you completely. He alone makes you exactly who you are supposed to be. Always remember.”

Laney leaned back weakly on her son’s arm, and he gently placed her head on the pillow. “Good bye, Mom. We’ll see you again.”

Her daughter, Evi, came over and kissed Laney’s forehead, her tears anointing her mother for her last journey.

Laney closed her eyes.

* * * * * * * * *

When Laney woke, the first thing she felt was warmth. It was as though she was laying on a glorious Mediterranean beach, the sun beaming down on her with a gentle breeze blowing across her skin. She took a breath and realized she could breath without pain, and she could smell. A million different scents blended together filling her with a joy she had never known. She opened her eyes.

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

She found herself in a garden, one that caused all the Better Homes and Gardens winners to look faded and tiny in comparison. She sat up. She was on a blanket, and laid out beside her was a picnic complete with gingham napkins, a wicker basket, and food that looked like nothing she had ever seen before. She felt her stomach growl. What a glorious feeling after years of having no appetite.

“Laney.”

She looked up. There stood Steve, and her daughter Elena. They had decided to name her, after they had gotten back together. Both of them looked radiant. Stepping out from behind them was the King, His Son, and their presence, Arabella. Arabella was luminescent, as though a million stars filled her very being.

The Son came to her and reached out His hand. “Laney, we are so glad you are here. We have been waiting for you.”

Love, all at once a force, a thought, a breath, a place, an entity clothed her as His hand touched hers.

She was home.

Relentless - Part 5: Rock Bottom

“Laney! What are you doing?”

Laney heard her boyfriend’s voice, but she couldn’t remember where they were. Were they at home? Where were the dogs? She suddenly felt Steve shaking her.

“Laney, what did you do? You killed our baby…my baby…” Steve shook her harder. “Open your eyes, damn it! Look at me!”

Laney forced her eyes to open. She tried to smile, but her face didn't seem to want to respond to what her brain was telling it to do.

Image by 0fjd125gk87 from Pixabay

“…hey, babe…what…time is it?”

Steve shoved her back into the couch. She usually didn’t make it that far after a binge.

“I’m done, Laney. You are on your own. That’s really what you wanted anyway, wasn’t it. You aren’t selfish, you are lost.”

Steve left, slamming the door.

Laney tried to say something, but nothing would come out. She tried to sit up, but she was so hungover she knew that wouldn’t be a good idea.

What was his problem anyway?

“It was my choice…” The words rang out into the empty room sounding like a hollow bell. “Myles? Sophie?”

Image by Linda Crouse from Pixabay

“It was my choice…” she muttered as she fell back asleep.

When she woke some time later it was dark. Not merely the darkness of night, but an inky, thick blackness that seemed to suck the breath out of her. Laney felt paralyzed, but she knew it wasn’t the alcohol and drugs, this was the paralysis of fear.

“Was it your choice?” A smooth voice whispered out of the blackness.

Laney forced herself to sit up. She knew her eyes were open, but why couldn’t she see anything. She felt the fear, like a leggy spider crawling up the back of her neck.

“My body! My choice!” She barked out the words like an angry, caged beast.

“My, my, so adamant, so angry, so vulnerable.” The voice taunted her, like a calm, stoic bully.

“Go away! Leave me alone!”

“But where would the fun be in that? My friends and I have been watching you, following you, waiting for you. You may have the King’s seal, but we can still make your life miserable. That’s really what you want anyway, isn’t it? To be miserable?”

Laney thought the voice sounded strangely like Steve’s.

“You are pathetic. You sold those dumb, four legged beasts to support your growing addiction, and then, last week you sold your own fetus.”

The voice began to giggle. The giggle turned into maniacal, stark raving hysteria. That voice was joined by another, and another, and another, until Laney was sure the laughter was coming from inside her head.

Image by Rebecca Martell from Pixabay

She covered her ears and dropped to her knees on the floor her screams becoming the crazed harmony to the unhinged laughter.

“You aren’t real! You’re just some sort of delusion from the alcohol and drugs. Go away!”

The laughing slowed, but it was replaced by whispers that sounded, oddly, like the hissing of a snake. Laney thought she had finally taken too many hallucinogenics, that her brain would no longer be able to tell the difference between the trip and reality. But then the voice started speaking again.

“I’m just a delusion? A monster of your own making? Tell me, Laney, what would the perfect enemy look like? A man with a funny little mustache who commanded armies and almost took over the world? Or how about a man who took his lovers home, then killed and ate them for dinner? No, no, no, my dear girl. I am perfection. You see I have convinced the world that I don’t exist. I can go about my business of manipulating and destroying lives without anyone ever being the wiser. You have talked yourself into believing a lie, and you even have the King’s seal. All of humanity is pathetic…”

Laney heard what the voice was saying, but she couldn’t make sense of it. “Go away!”

“Come now, Laney. The party is just getting started. You know what, I am a rather busy Being, why don’t we just get this over with. Get that bottle of pills that you have hiding in the cereal box in the cupboard. If you take them all, it should be over in just a few hours.”

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

Laney gasped. How did he know about the pills? She smirked. Well, of course he would. He was her made up delusion.

“Why not,” she said as she struggled to crawl across the floor towards the kitchen.

“That’s right, Laney. You have nothing left to live for. No dogs, no family. Even your boyfriend, who had bought a ring, left you.”

Laney stopped. “Steve, bought me a ring?”

She felt something begin to twist inside of her. She ignored it and kept moving in the direction of what she thought might be the kitchen. She had to get those pills.

The voice dug in again. “He wanted to marry you. Can you believe he loved you? You made the right choice, you know. You would have never been a good mother.”

“He loved me?”

Image by aleksandra85foto from Pixabay

“Oh, come on Laney! You know he was only marrying you because of the baby. But, even that you have thrown away…the pills are waiting my dear. They will make all of this go away.”

Laney was frozen in a prostrate position when suddenly a thought whispered through her mind…you are loved with an everlasting love…you are the daughter of the King…you matter.

Laney touched her forehead to the floor. “Forgive me, my King…my Lord…my Savior. Rescue me.”

“Do you really think He’s going to listen to your prayers now? After all the weeks, and months, and years of your rebellion?” The voice was becoming angry.

Laney felt the air begin to move. It started like a soft summer breeze and built into a gale force wind. Her hair was whipping around her face. She was sure she could hear thunder, and the hissing and whispering grew tumultuous. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she couldn’t breath.

I’m going to die, she thought.

“ENOUGH!”

Image by Design n Print from Pixabay

Immediately the darkness was overtaken by a beautiful light. A light so warm and comforting that it caused Laney to weep. She felt her heart, iced over from so many years of pride and rebellion crack. From within it, began to seep all the darkness that she had allowed to consume her life. She cried and cried. As she remembered all the choices, her choices, she felt something like steel wool begin to scrub away the grime of manipulation and deceit.

Time passed. Her tears ebbing and flowing from her place on the floor, then she heard a different voice. She looked up.

“Laney.”

All around her home stood warriors in shining armor of light. Each one nodded at her, their faces full of compassion and joy. In front of her stood the elderly man from the park and at his feet sat Myles and Sophie. He made the motion and the two pups bolted for Laney smothering her in doggie kisses.

Laney couldn’t speak she was so overwhelmed. Then she noticed the young woman standing next to the man. She was shining, like the warriors in their armor. She came to Laney and knelt down beside her. She touched Laney’s cheek where tears had moistened it.

“Mom, I love you, and you are going to be okay.”

Relentless - Part 4: The Pursuer - The Prince

He paced the floor, as he often did when things weighed heavily on him. He could feel the cool night air filtering in from the open doors that led to the balcony. He could smell the fire as it flickered brightly, seemingly without a care in the world. There were moments he wished he could be that free, but he cared too deeply.

Image by Jazella from Pixabay

He could not get her off his mind. She was his sister. She had become thus when she gave her heart to his father in the oath; an oath that could not be undone. Why did she not want to return to them? Why did she run away in the first place? Why did she not see how much they cared for her and wanted her to come home? Didn’t she know how her actions tore at his father’s heart? Didn’t she know the shadowed ones were always looking for an opportunity to destroy her?

The more he meditated on it, the faster he paced.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door.

“Come!”

His father entered. His face, always alight with passion and energy, was shadowed with care.

“Father! Do you have news? Has Laney returned?”

His father moved to the plush, oversized chair near the fireplace and fell into it with a sigh.

He quickly took the other chair next to his father and waited. It was never wise to push the King for information. He knew him like he knew himself. The King would speak when he was ready. The fire grew dim before the King finally spoke.

“These next few weeks are critical. While she cannot see it, she has crossed into their territory. They will take advantage of every single bad choice she makes. It will be dangerous for her. I need you to post a small company of the Guard around her. They are to watch and keep the darkness at bay, but not interfere.”

Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay

“Father! Why can’t we just pull her out? Why must we let this go on, leaving her to her own will; watching her dive deeper and deeper into destruction?”

“You know why, my son. Her will is strong. Almost as strong as yours.” The king smiled gently. “But you used your will to accomplish my purposes. She is not there yet. It must be her choice. To take her back by force will only cause her to rebel more earnestly. Believe me, I know her inside and out.”

The king rose from the chair and he followed suit.

His father grasped his shoulders. “I know how hard this is for you. You have been there living among them as one of their own. You are intimate with their limitations and struggles, but you know I am trustworthy. You placed yourself at my behest, even though it involved great sacrifice.”

Image by KTDesign_studio from Pixabay

He looked intently into his father’s golden eyes. He saw what he always did. Mercy, patience, forgiveness, and a love so deep it was unfathomable.

He nodded. “I know, father. You are right. I know that she is there by her own choice, but it pains me to see her suffer.”

“You are not alone in that, my son.” He turned to go. “When you are done gathering the Guard, go to Arabella. Together you can pray.”

Relentless - Part 3: The Pursued - Mercy upon Mercy

Laney had just brought the pups in from their walk and all three of them were wet. It had turned gray early in the day and soon after started to rain. She didn’t like having to walk the pups in the rain, but she knew it was good for all of them. Laney had become very disciplined in her life. It was something she was proud of.

Image by Gundula Vogel from Pixabay

“Okay, guys, no jumping on the furniture until I get your feet wiped off.”

She grabbed a towel she left hanging by the door for just that purpose, and began to wipe Myles’ paws. Sophie sat obediently waiting her turn. Myles gave her plenty of kisses, then padded into the living room where he jumped up to his spot on the couch. Just after she finished Sophie’s paws and hung up the towel, there was a loud clap of thunder that made her jump. Both dogs barked. The lights flickered.

Laney spoke gently to calm the pups down. “It’s okay. It’s just a little thunder. You know it happens a lot when it rains.”

It went dark.

She looked out the front window and the whole neighborhood was dark. The rain was coming down in sheets, while thunder and lightening rumbled and flashed simultaneously.

Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay

She looked at her phone, thinking she had better log the outage with her electric company. It lit up for one second then it went dark, just like the neighborhood.

She felt panic, the same kind she had felt in the bar on that night over two years ago. She could still hear the whispers. She clenched her teeth.

“Alright, guys! We need to find the flashlight and get some candles lit.” She forced her voice to be calm and upbeat.

It made her think of her dad. He had always been buying candles at garage sales for just those occasions. Her mom would light them all over the house when the lights went out and it always made her feel safe, so she was going to do the same.

Image by Obsidain Photography from Pixabay

The pups padded along behind her as she found the flashlight and then grabbed a variety of candles and their holders from various places in the house. She soon had the living room and kitchen looking like a bright fairy festival at Christmas time.

She gave the dogs their dinner, then scooted down the hall with a candle to her bedroom to change into dry clothes. She looked out the bedroom window and was stunned by how hard it was raining. It looked like there was a wall between her and her neighbor whose house was only a grassy patch and a driveway away.

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

She noticed the reflection of the candle in the window, but there was someone standing next to it. She whirled around fear catching in her throat. There was no one there. She nervously pulled the curtains closed without looking back at the window, quickly changed her clothes and went back out to where the pups had curled up on the couch.

She closed all the other curtains as well, then sat between the dogs pulling a blanket over her lap. Myles yawned and rested his head on her lap, while Sophie put her back against her leg. The dogs were her salvation. She did not know what she would do without them.

She began to doze, hoping the rain would stop and the electricity would come back on soon.

Image by Waldryano from Pixabay

Laney woke with a start. Blinding light filled the room and in front of her was the silhouette of what looked like a man in a suit. Both Myles and Sophie had gotten off the couch and were sitting by the man and looked to be licking his fingers.

“Who…who are you?” Laney’s voice trembled. “What do you want?”

Myles barked. The man bent his head towards the dog, then said, “Oh…yes…you are so right, Myles.”

The piercing light diminished. Laney could see the candles she had lit around the room. The light continued to recede until it was just a warm glow around the man. She saw him smiling as he looked around her home.

Laney grabbed her phone still laying in her lap from when she had dozed off, but of course it still had no charge. She stood up.

“What are you, some sort of utility worker? It’s great that you got out here to fix the power so quickly, but you really shouldn’t be coming into people’s homes without being invited!”

The man chuckled. “Well, Myles and Sophie said I was completely welcome. Besides, I was sent here to talk to you.”

Image by Lalo Viamontes from Pixabay

Laney glanced towards the front door. If she could make a mad dash, she might be able to get out of the house. She could run to a neighbor’s.

“Laney.” The man’s voice was gentle. “I’m not going to hurt you. I am here at the request of the King. He wants you to come home.”

Laney rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. Why does he keep bothering me? Doesn’t he understand I want nothing to do with him or his silly kingdom. He doesn’t own me.”

The gentleman moved towards one of the chairs opposite the couch. “Do you mind if I sit?”

Laney was about to say of course she minded, but he sat.

“You say he doesn’t own you, but you gave him your heart oath and in turn he placed his seal on you. Let me show you. Myles, Sophie, here.”

Laney was aghast as the dogs moved obediently to wear the man sat. He raised his hand and it began to glow brighter. He lifted up Myles’ ear. Placing his hand behind the dog’s ear, Laney could plainly see something that resembled a royal seal glowing.

“Sophie’s is embedded near her heart, and yours…” He stood and moved towards her gently taking her wrist.

“You wanted yours on your wrist so it looked like a tattoo.” He smiled as the glow from his hand revealed the same royal seal on her arm.

She pulled her arm away angrily. “You need to go! Now!”

The man’s face looked sorrowful. He turned towards the door, but stopped and said. “Laney, it is easy to cling to bad things that happened in your life, but it blinds you to all the times mercy was extended to you in the form of his protection, his provision, his love. Open your heart to him again. Even this evening, this storm…it was his way of watching over you.”

He turned towards the pups. “He knows you are doing everything you can and he is so pleased. Don’t give up on her. He isn’t.”

Myles and Sophie barked and followed him to the door. He opened the door, his glowing silhouette backlit by a flash of lighting, then he was gone.

Laney rushed to the door, slamming it and turning both of the locks. She even went to all the other outside doors and the windows and made sure each one was locked.

Image by PublicDomainArchive from Pixa

“Stupid, weird utility man…” she muttered as she finished.

* * * * *

Laney woke to the clock on her bedside table blinking, and the sun shinning through a slit in between the closed curtains. The thought crossed her mind that perhaps the whole incident with the stranger in her house was just a dream. She decided it must have been and began her morning routine.

She turned on the TV, starting her healthy morning smoothy. As she cut up the fruit to throw in the blender her ears tuned in to something the local news anchor was saying.

“…Late last night police finally caught the Urban Exterminator, notorious serial rapist and murderer. It seems the Exterminator was looking to take his next victim from one of the neighborhoods near 8th and Dernst Avenues and stalled out his vehicle going through a flooded area near a plugged up storm sewer drain…”

Laney’s jaw dropped. Hers was one of those neighborhoods. The stranger’s voice echoed in her head. “…it is easy to cling to bad things that happened in your life, but it blinds you to all the times mercy was extended to you in the form of his protection, his provision, his love…Even this evening, this storm…it was his way of watching over you.”

Relentless - Part 2: The Pursued - The Gift

“Where are they? Myles? Sophie?” Laney called and whistled, but the dogs did not respond.

She had come to the park, their evening routine after she got home from work, but something had caught their eye, or their nose, and they had nearly pulled her down on her face before the leashes slid roughly from her hands.

She felt herself beginning to panic. What if she couldn’t find them? What if they didn’t come back? They were her constant companions. She couldn’t live without them.

“Sophie! Myles! Come!” She called loudly again as she jogged in the direction they had zoomed off.

She pulled out her phone. Her friend Jeremy would know what to do. He was always there to help her out. After a second he answered.

“Hello?”

“Jeremy, this is Laney. Hey, I’m at Preston Park. Myles and Sophie got away from me. Can you come help me look for them.”

“Um…well, I…I’m kinda busy right now, Laney. I’m sure they’ll be fine. Just hang out for a bit and they’ll probably come loping back in a few minutes.”

Laney was disappointed, but she didn’t let on. “Oh, okay. Well, thanks. See you at work tomorrow.”

She kept walking, but slowed her pace. Jeremy was probably right. They would come back in just a few minutes after they were done stimulating their noses. She headed toward the wooded area because she knew the pups loved to rummage around in the leaves.

Laney was proud of herself. She’d finally stopped messing around and started to take life seriously. After that last weird encounter at the bar, she decided to keep her drinking confined to her small home, and only when she had friends over. She had finally gotten an administrative position at work, got a great raise, good health insurance and a title that made her finally feel worth something. People came to her for advice and looked up to her.

Why was it then, she felt so alone?

Image by Werner Heiber from Pixabay

Still, he pursued her. She could feel it in the quiet moments, which was exactly why she didn’t allow the silence. She had a routine. As she got home she was greeted by the barking of Myles and Sophie, the two rescues she adored. She changed her clothes, put on her headphones, cranked up the music and took the pups for a long walk. When they returned she turned on the TV to have a show on in the back ground as she made herself a healthy meal. It stayed on until she either went to bed, went out with friends or had friends over.

Her life before she left Him was becoming a blur, almost as though it wasn’t real. She had just about convinced herself it was just some sort of weird dream, a fairy tale of sorts, or it had seemed like a fairy tale until something bad had happened; something that He had not stopped. The question always nagged at her, if he really loved her why hadn’t he protected her?

Laney followed the path that wandered into the heavily treed area of the park. Just as she came around a corner she saw Sophie and Myles sitting in front of an elderly man on a bench.

“There you are! You two are in so much trouble.” She reached them and picked up both of their leads.'

“I am so sorry,” Laney said to the man. “They just took off. Just about dragged me with them.”

The gentleman chuckled. “Oh they were zooming for sure, but I could tell they belonged to someone who cared for them very much. I told them they had to sit with me until you came.”

Laney wasn’t sure what to think of the man, but he seemed quite harmless. Plus it was still daylight and there were people around. She sat down next to him.

She smiled. “You told them?”

He was looking off into the woods. He started, as if noticing her for the first time. “What was that?”

“You said, you told Myles and Sophie to sit with you until I came.”

He smiled gently as he patted Myles on the head. “Oh, yes…yes. This one is all for fun. He wanted to keep running, but his sister told him to listen. She’s the one with the deep desire to please you.”

Laney let out a small laugh. “You understand them…who are you Dr. Doolittle?”

The man smiled. “Oh no, no. That was just a made up story. I…well….I have a gift.”

“A gift?”

“Some would call it discernment. Others might call it knowledge…whatever it is I just know I’ve had it since I was seven years old.”

Laney looked at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. She suddenly felt worried for the man. “Are you okay? I mean do you need me to call someone? Do you live around here?”

He gently put a hand on her knee and patted it. “Now don’t you worry. I am perfectly sane, if that’s what you are wondering. I just know things, that’s all.”

Laney was intrigued. “What sorts of things? Has Myles told you he wants another sibling, because I cannot afford another…”

The gentleman burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling with mirth. His smile seemed to make the shaded path burst into light.

“I can tell you that Myles and Sophie were both rescues. Sophie has always loved to submit. It makes her happy to do her owner’s will. She is gentle and peaceful. Myles…well, he’s a lot like you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. He likes to run. He has very little patience for sitting still. Some days he wants to run and run and never turn back.”

Laney looked at Myles. “What? You would do that?”

Myles barked. The man continued. “Oh, he won’t ever leave you. He has a seal.”

“A seal?”

“Yes. Both Sophie and Myles have it. It was given to them by someone very important. You see, Myles and Sophie were both severely treated and abused. He gives them the most important job, to watch over the lost ones…You are very fortunate. He must love you a great deal. Myles and Sophie were created just for you.”

Laney sat there stunned, a tiny pin prick poking her heart. She took a deep breath and willed her mind to override the feelings. She stood up.

“Well, that’s all very interesting. I really need to go. I’ve got friends coming for dinner. Are you sure you don’t want me to call someone?”

The man patted Myles and Sophie again and whispered something only they could hear, then lifted his head to Laney.

“Thank you for sitting with me, even if just for a minute. It means the world to me.” He smiled again.

Laney had to pull the pups away from him as she moved down the path out of the woods. She turned back one time to see if the old man was going to try to follow her, but he was gone.

Relentless - Part 1: The Pursued

The following piece and its subsequent installments are works of fiction created by myself as allegorical of the Christian life. As with any allegory it is a picture or type, more specifically in this case a picture of what our relationship with God might look like. The following parts will be posted monthly on the fourth Thursday as part of my Creative Christianity feature. I hope you will enjoy it.

He was coming for her. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew. She tried to shake it off, telling herself she was being silly. Why would he still be pursuing her? She had left the smothering confines of his kingdom long ago. She was nothing to him, not any more. She had made sure of that.

Image by Christian_Birkholz from Pixabay

She smiled coyly at the bloke sitting at the end of the bar. He looked like a decent sort and maybe with a bit of change. She could tell by the sunglasses that sat on the top of his finely coiffed hair and the watch that shone loudly on his wrist.

“Buy me a drink?” She used her most innocent, yet seductive purr.

“Sure,” he responded with feigned enthusiasm. He sidled closer to where she sat.

She could tell he’d been here before. Not in this exact pub, but at this point in life. His wife or current lover had jilted him, leaving him for someone with fresher curb appeal. Just like her he was trying to find a small measure of comfort, even if just for a moment.

“I’d ask you what’s a nice girl like you doing in a dive like this, but I think we both know, neither of us is very nice.” His voice sounded tired.

She smiled. “My, my, a philosopher.”

He smirked, the corner of his mouth just barely rising before he lifted his glass in a mock toast towards hers. “How did you know? Was it my snarky response, or my academic attire that gave me away?”

Image by Michal Jarmoluk from Pixabay

She clinked her glass against his. “Definitely, the snark.”

They sank into a puddle of warm conversation, not really talking about anything, but also everything. He told her about his kids; she talked about her dogs. He shared the frustrations of the academic world, and she griped about the long hours she worked in the medical arena.

“So why are you here?” He asked. “You seem like a genuinely descent person? Don’t you have a family, friends, a significant other?”

The alcohol was beginning to make her feel odd. Her whole body was covered with goosebumps.

“Ooo, I feel weird. Hey you didn’t put something in my drink did you?” She looked at the professor, whose face looked concerned. “Hey, bartender! I need some help. I think this guy messed with my drink.”

The lights over the bar and around the pub began to flicker. She looked around the room and suddenly realized she and the bloke were the only ones in the room. She didn’t even see the bar tender, who was normally playing musical glasses as he cleaned and wiped down the counter.

“I feel it too,” the professor said quietly.

“Feel what?”

“A presence.” The man’s voice had become a subdued whisper.

Image by Robert Owen-Wahl from Pixabay

The lights went out, all except the blinking open sign in the window. The pub seemed to fill with moving shadows and sounds. She thought it sounded like many voices whispering, or were they hissing. She knew in her gut she needed to run, but she couldn’t.

“What have you done?” The man’s voice sounded befuddled.

Funny, it made her think of her mother asking her the same question when she had emptied a three pound bag of flour onto the living room floor.

The prof looked at her with wide eyes. “You are one of his. You have his seal.”

She jumped off the stool and away from him. “What? What are you talking about? I don’t belong to anyone! I’m my own person.”

The shadows in the room seemed to grow, almost taking on a three dimensional quality. Were they moving towards her?

“Then why are they here?” The bloke nodded towards the shadows.

“I assure you I don’t have any idea what they are, let alone why they are here.”

“Boy, you really are naive aren’t you. Everyone knows anyone who leaves his kingdom will be followed by the Shadowed Ones.”

Image by Engin Akyurt from Pixabay

She looked from the creeping shadows to the professor. “Well, I highly doubt that everyone has this information seeing as this is the first time I have heard of it.”

The bloke’s face became gentle and kind. “He wants you to come back. He never wanted you to leave. He loves you, Laney.”

Laney felt her jaw drop. “How do you know my name? I didn’t tell you my name.”

“Laney, he will never stop pursuing you. He cannot bear that you have left. He knows exactly who you are and what you need. Return to him.”

Laney shook her head. “NO! I can’t go back. It’s too late….this has to be a nightmare….maybe if I just close my eyes it will all disappear.”

The professor put a hand on her shoulder. Laney felt a different presence. Suddenly, an explosion of light forced her to close her eyes, but a force that could only be described as a tsunami of love swept passed her.

It was gone. She heard the tinkle of glasses, subdued voices and snippets of laughter surround her. Opening her eyes she found herself sitting at the bar. The bartender was busy wiping the counter. There were a few others at the bar, but the snarky professor had vanished.

The bartender approached. “Need another round, Laney?”

Laney looked at her empty glass. She took a deep shuddering breath. “Fill it up!”

A Walkabout with God

The term walkabout was first heard of in 1897 and was used to describe the Aboriginal period of wandering bush life. A young man between the ages of 10 and 16 would go on his walkabout to make the journey to manhood, spending anywhere from a few weeks to six months out in the Australian bush country fending for himself. In more recent times the term walkabout is used in Britain to describe a casual outing among other people, mingling and socializing.

Image by falco from Pixabay

The other day I was struggling. I am human and real life often weighs heavily on me, causing me to lose clarity about who I am and who I belong to. I was sitting at the small, bar height, table that is strategically placed in the corner of what used to be a dining room, right next to a window. I love to sit there, (see below) especially in the winter, as that is where the sun light streams in for a good portion of the morning and afternoon. I was trying to pray, pleading with God to clear the fog out of my brain and help me to get back to His center, because that is always where I am most content.

Picture from Pantone Spring 2018 photo shoot by Rebecca Trumbull.

As I am often inclined to do when I am alone in the house, I got up and started to pace around the kitchen table and pray out loud. At times, I will stray from my elliptical orbit around the table, and walk a lap or two around the living room. I told God how I was feeling. I confessed my struggles: those of the flesh and those of the spirit. Like a young Aboriginal boy on his quest for manhood in the open country of the Australian outback, I walked, searching for a way to survive. I needed to find my place, my purpose and His peace.

The journey to spiritual maturity, or what we as Christ followers often refer to as holiness, or Christ-likeness is not an easy one.

“10 For they disciplined us for a short time as seemed best to them, but He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness.”

— Hebrews 12:10 (NASB)

Life is often harsh and unrelenting, much like the heat of an Australian day or the deep, bone chilling cold of that same country’s nights. Survival depends on a variety of factors, including food, water, and a way to keep cool during the day and warm at night. In the same way, the process of maturing in our life with Christ is dependent on several factors. Let’s look at these more closely.

1 - The Need for Food

Image by cattalin from Pixabay

Obviously, we are talking about spiritual food, but the analogies I am going to draw apply to both our physical and spiritual beings. What we put into our bodies directly affects how we feel, what we are able to do and our quality of life. Believe me, this is an area I struggle with, and I know for a fact when I am eating better, eating less and getting enough water and exercise, I feel like a new person.

The need for the right kind of food for our spiritual lives is just as important. If we are feeding our minds a steady diet of news, social media, music without a positive message, movies, books or other forms of entertainment that do not glorify God, we are going to feel it. I am sure most of you, like me, were caught up in watching the news nonstop when the pandemic began. I am also sure many of you followed the media storm leading up to the election and its ensuing aftermath. It is very easy to become discouraged and hopeless when things are out of control, thus the need to feed on the good food of God’s word.

We are living in different times, but our God has not changed. He has provided all the nutrients we need to endure in this harsh reality we now find ourselves living in.

“For the bread of God is that which comes down out of heaven and gives life to the world.””

— John 6:33 (NASB)

“Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; the one who comes to Me will not be hungry, and the one who believes in Me will never be thirsty.”

— John 6:35 (NASB)

Jesus said He is the bread. He also says that if we come to Him we will not be hungry. Are you feeling a bit peckish in your spiritual life? Come to Jesus. Is your heart longing for fulfillment and satisfaction? Come to Jesus. What spiritual food are you longing for? No matter what your heart is aching for, Jesus can fill it up and make it feel whole again.

2. The Need for Water

Image by Arek Socha from Pixabay

The human body is made up of approximately 60% water. Our cells, tissues and organs cannot operate effectively if we do not have enough water. I am constantly telling my family to drink more water. This life giving substance is even more important if you are in a survival situation like the Australian outback. The area is arid and there are very few trees. Having water with you, or finding a clean water source is essential to survival.

Once again, we see this need for water extends to our spiritual lives. Without true water, we will always be returning to the well to try to quench our thirst. That well may be food, alcohol, drugs or sex. It could also be buying more things, or immersing ourselves into romance novels and pornography. It seems to satisfy for a time, just like drinking a soda or a cup of coffee can give you a little hydration. The problem is, it does not last.

Jesus told us in John 6:35 that if we come to Him we will never be hungry. He also says we will never be thirsty. Many of you know the familiar Biblical event of the woman at the well, found in John 4. You can see two posts I did on that passage last fall: May the Source Be with You: A Woman, a Well and Some Water and May the Source Be with You: An Exclamation, an Explanation and an Effect. What did Jesus tell her?

“13 Jesus answered and said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again;
14 but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never be thirsty; but the water that I will give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up to eternal life.””

— John 4:13-14 (NASB)

Imagine you are walking in that dry, arid bush country, or perhaps you are crossing a vast desert. How would you feel after days and days without so much as a drop of water, to come upon an oasis; a place of palm trees and a cool, bubbling, trickling spring of precious water? Wouldn’t your heart swell with relief and your throat constrict with tears of gratitude? My dear friends, Jesus is our oasis. He is the water we need when our lives have become a long journey through the arid regions of living. He is that cool, sweet, bubbling brook, when we no longer have the strength or the will to go on. He is the God who fills our hungry stomachs and soothes our parched throats. All this He does for us, and more!

3 - The Need for Comfort

Image by Katrina_S from Pixabay

We all want to feel comfortable. In the cold of winter we never give a thought to turning up the heat. In the heat of summer some of you switch from heat to air conditioning. Others of us, throw open the windows and get out the fans. When we have a headache we take medicine and when we are anxious or upset we find a friend to talk to who will listen and give us comfort. Is our God, not so much more than heaters, fans and pain medication? He is the God who comforts.

“When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, Your comfort delights my soul.”

— Psalm 94:19 (NASB)

“Shout for joy, you heavens! And rejoice, you earth! Break forth into joyful shouting, mountains! For the Lord has comforted His people And will have compassion on His afflicted.”

— Isaiah 49:13 (NASB)

“3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort,
4 who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
5 For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ. ”

— 2 Corinthians 1:3-5 (NASB)

These are just a few of the verses in the Bible that mention the word comfort, but there are so many more. In addition, if you look up the attributes of God and the characteristics of those attributes you begin to realize, God loves to comfort His people. Yes, He is a righteous, holy and just God and He cannot tolerate sin, but He has provided the way, through His son Jesus Christ, the Lord of all comfort.

When we are faced with difficulties, it is easy to run to things that are convenient and well, comfortable. I have gone shopping when I am stressed. I eat junk when I am discouraged. I veg out on Netflix shows when I want to escape, but none of those things are going to give me the comfort I really need. God, and God alone, truly knows how to comfort the deep layers of my soul.

4 - The Need to Change our Mindset

Image by John Hain from Pixabay

I have to believe that a young man who walks off into the Australian bush country alone, to survive for who knows how long, has to be going into it with a certain mindset. He knows what is expected of him, because it has always been expected of young men by his people. His mother may feel anxious about this step for her son, but she knows it is what he must do to become a man. She knows he will draw upon all he has learned up until this point to survive, including how to find food and water, and how to get through the harsh conditions.

I think that we have done a disservice to our children. We have coddled them. We have protected them. We have neglected to put the expectation on them, that one day they have to grow up and be men and women. We have also not taught them the truth, that life is harsh and hard; that people will hurt them and that they will need to understand forgiveness and love are choices, not feelings.

“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.”

— Romans 12:2 (NASB)

One of the most important things I have learned over the last decade as a Christ follower, is growing in Christ is a choice. I cannot just sit around thinking I’ve got the ticket to heaven so all is good. I want to know God. I want to enter in to His inner most layers, because that is where I will truly find His peace, His joy and His contentment. That only happens as we walk, run and fly with Him. That only happens in the dark places, when the clouds are relentless and the pain is an hourly companion.

If you are struggling, take a walkabout with God. He will bend you, stretch you and sharpen you. He will also encourage you, comfort you and remind you of His great, undying love!

“37 But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us.
38 For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers,
39 nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

— Romans 8:37-39 (NASB)

Tended Dreams

This is a fiction piece by Amy D. Christensen

So many coffins! Why were there so many coffins?

Image by Lisa Yount from Pixabay

The One who stood beside me looked out over the vast area filled with every manner of death box imaginable. There were pine boxes, reminding me of the Old West, golden sarcophagi, dark cherry wood polished until it shimmered and many, many more. It would take days to count how many coffins filled the valley: literally a valley of dry bones. Here and there I could see beings of light, I assumed were angles, tending to the coffins.

“Who are they,” I asked looking up into his dark eyes.

They were brown, but seemed to be edged with golden light; a light that came from deep within His heart.

He smiled at me, though I could tell there was a deep sadness behind that smile. “Not who, but what?”

“I do not understand.”

Image by Jackson David from Pixabay

He took my hand, squeezing it firmly. It felt as though just a bit of strength tingled from his fingers into mine filling my whole body with warmth. It was as though someone had just draped a warm blanket over my shoulders.

“These coffins hold dreams.”

“Dreams?”

“Come. Let’s walk and I will show you.”

I was afraid. I had always been afraid to be around death. I never liked going to funerals and walking through grave yards was fine during the day when the sky was blue, but when the sun went down and the mists began to creep along the ground, no thank you! I planted my feet firmly.

He turned to look at me. “It will be alright. You are with me, and I would never let anything hurt you. Not any more.”

His eyes took in the depth of my soul. It was then I knew. He knew everything about me and yet, it was completely obvious how much He loved me.

“Come.” He smiled again and I let myself be pulled along.

We moved in among the elongated boxes and I couldn’t help but admire how intricately beautiful some of them were. Many were very simple and completely unadorned, while others had been carved and embellished with decorative swirls and etchings, some of which looked to be letters in various languages.

He stopped before a dark box whose wood was so polished and smooth I could see myself in it.

Image by composita from Pixabay

“This one belongs to a man who took great pride in his work. He built his own business from the ground up. When he met his wife, he knew he wanted to have a family. He wanted many children, hoping that a few of them would one day carry on the family business. His wife died in child birth. He never remarried and eventually sold the business.”

He moved me along to another box a little ways away. This one was much more ornate than the last one. It was covered in beautiful scroll work.

Image by JamesDeMers from Pixabay

“This one belongs to a woman who married young. She had dreams of becoming an archeologist, but her husband said her place was in the home with the children. She had a brood, and when there were no more children to be birthed, her husband left her for a younger woman.”

“How terrible!”

The next coffin he stopped before was smaller. Not the size of a child, but not a full adult either. It was white and decorated with pretty pink and yellow flowers.

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

“The girl whose dreams reside here was only 16 when a drunk driver took away her ability to walk. She wanted to be a dancer hoping that sad people would find joy in the movement of music and dance.”

He stretched out his hand and rubbed the top of the pretty box, as if remembering.

I felt my eyes sting with tears. He began to walk again and I pulled my hand from His.

“Why are you showing me these things?”

He did not speak. I could see tears in his own eyes. He held out his hand.

Once again, I placed mine in his and we walked for a while in silence.

The next box we stopped in front of was rather simple and unassuming. In fact as we had walked it occurred to me there were many coffins like this. They weren’t plain and simple like an Old West pine box, nor were they richly adorned. They were, in fact plain and unnoticeable.

“Why are there so many like these?”

He looked out over the valley, turning his head from one side to another. “These are the dreams of mothers for their children; wives for their marriages; grandmothers for their grandchildren. As is so often the case these go unnoticed. Mothers go about their lives, most often never asking for the help they need, the desires that go unmet and the thanks they so deserve. Unlike many, who have one major dream of what they want to do with their lives, mothers, wives and grandmothers often have the most dreams and, as you can tell by these coffins, so very many of them must be laid to rest.”

Image by Richard Mcall from Pixabay

“Well, if that’s the case, why aren’t their coffins more ornate and noticeable? Why are they so plain?”

“Because their desires were simple. They wanted their children to grow up without damage and problems. They wanted their husbands to talk to them. They wanted their families to get along…simple things really, yet so important. Unfortunately, very few take into account the dreams of a mother. They love her and are glad for her, but they rarely get to know the woman that she is underneath all that she does: the writer, the singer, the artist, the leader, the warrior. So very many dreams that had to die.”

“But why?” I was beginning to feel upset. “Why should they have to give up their dreams?”

“Because they knew what was really at stake. They knew that the most important part of life was relationship. They were willing to give up everything else, so that relationships with their children, husbands and grandchildren could continue. You see life is not about the dreams that come true, it is about the relationships that are built, or abandoned, along the way.”

He stepped away from the box. “Come. I have one last thing to show you.”

Again, he took my hand and once again I felt the mild tingle of His strength moving me forward and warming me.

The sight we came to next took my breath away. A sea of tiny, infant sized coffins, each adorned with a small, flickering candle, floated silently on a huge glassy lake. The light on each coffin produced a shimmering reflection in the surrounding water. It was all at once beautiful and horrifying.

Image by Hans Braxmeier from Pixabay

He sensed my discomfort and putting his arm around my shoulders, pulled me close.

“Even a baby has dreams. In the world as you know it, when babies are born they do not have language, but the truth is, all that are conceived have the imprint of heavenly language. It is in this realm that they dream. They dream of small things, but still they are dreams. Smiles, green grass, blue skies, their mother’s face, their father’s laugh, the feeling of human touch, but alas, none of these dear ones ever got to realize their dreams.”

I gasped, as the sea of coffins seemed to go on forever. Tears slipped down my face.

He turned me towards him.

“You have dreams too. I showed you all these things because I want you to know that each and every dream you have is important to me. Each and every dream that you must give up, I will know about and I will tend to. That is how much I love you!”

* * * * * * *

Often, when I write a piece like this, I feel it is God giving me a way to express my own feelings and thoughts, but in the form of a story. An allegory tells a story in the form of imagery. I hope that the picture I painted above shows you, that Jesus loves you with an everlasting love and that every single dream you have achieved, and every single desire you have had to give up, He is aware of and He holds in the palm of His hand. I write, because I need to remember this, and maybe you do too.

You are deeply loved!

Fire of Reckoning

This is a work of fiction, by Amy D. Christensen

Darkness had fallen, like a veil. No, more like a shroud. It was the covering that brought death. How could life continue without light? Light was as necessary as breath, yet humanity embraced the darkness, taking no thought for the cost. Like Ebenezer Scrooge, they cared not that it was dark, because darkness was cheap. Oh, but the cost of striving in the darkness and never again turning to the light. Eventually it would cost them their lives.

Image by skeeze from Pixabay

She drew the curtains, the things themselves much like hanging shrouds, thick and weighted, but a necessity to keep the darkness without, from noticing the light within. There would come a time, when the light would no longer be hidden. They would raise it on the high towers in the form of fuel and flame. It would signal the beginning of the end. The battle for the light would begin, but for now they kept the light among themselves.

Image by Myriam Zilles from Pixabay

After the drapes had been drawn, the keepers of the flame drew their striking rods and simultaneously struck them resulting in a brief fireworks display followed by the gentle flare of multiple candles. Each lit candle was then used to light several more. Eventually the entire living space was full of light, including a fire in the large stone fireplace.

Image by Vladimir Maric from Pixabay

She knew that was the only way things would change, one flame at a time. She also knew that change depended not on a single flame, but on multiple ones. Light after light, after light, illuminating the dark places of the world. But it had to start with a single flame.

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

Forest fires started with a single ember, whether it be a lightening strike, a flicked cigarette butt, a discarded match or a purposeful addition of fuel and spark, but it still resulted in the same thing. The small spark would become a flame and the flame would become a blaze and that would sear everything in its path. The world would burn, just like the forest and one day life would return, sprouting forth from a tiny seed. The only way for new growth to come, was by the reckoning of fire.

Image by skeeze from Pixabay

“This is the judgment, that the Light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil.”

— John 3:19 (NASB)

Ready to Die

Dust and smoke rose into the air, creating a haze so thick the sun could barely penetrate. They had been fighting for days. Days that seemed to go on forever. They would push forward, but the enemy's forces always seemed able to push them back. She thought they were prepared for this battle. Her father, the King had thought they were ready, but now she wasn't so sure he had been right.

Pixabay

The enemy soldiers were not like any other she had fought. They had battled against them previously, but something had happened in those months since that prince of darkness had taken her daughter. She wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was because they were in his territory. Maybe it was due to the long journey their own army had to traverse to get here. Whatever, it was, she did not feel confident in their ability to win this battle. 

The thought made her cringe. How could she even be thinking these thoughts. She had never struggled with doubt before. She always had been confident in her Father's abilities as both a King and a commander. Now, however, doubts seem to plague her like some sort of blister on her foot and she had a lot of those. Her feet hurt. Her legs were stiff and her arms felt like lead. Fatigue filled her being from toes to fingertips.

Pixabay

Now, her small battalion was surrounded. She was not even sure how it happened. They began the day's fighting in the clear, but now they were backed up against a canyon wall. They were hemmed in on every side. The only thing that kept them from being slaughtered was that they were on the high ground. Every time the enemy tired to attack, they sent a volley of arrows flying and the enemy retreated, but their arrows were running out. 

Pixabay

"Your highness?" One of her men had come up behind her.

"Yes?"

"We only have enough arrows for one more attack...then..."

She knew the time had come. She had to make the choice to surrender or to go down fighting. She turned to face the soldier.

"I want you to bring the men together. I want to speak to them."

The soldier nodded, bowed and quickly left her.

She went to her knees. "Father, I know you cannot hear me, but wherever you are, I want you to know how much I love you and how much I look up to you. I know that I have been angry, frustrated and impatient in this mission to rescue my child, but you have never wavered and for that I am thankful. I know there is no way out of this. My child might be dead and soon that will be my fate as well, but I will never surrender to that vile, son of filth. I will go down fighting. Thank you for never giving up on me."

Tears, brimmed her eyes. She clenched her fists rising to her feet. Turning, she went to where the men were assembled. She was shocked at how very few of them were left. She stood before them, her head high.

"I would like to offer you hope. The hope that I give you is not hope for life, but hope to die with honor. Today, we are going to die, but you have a choice in how you do it. You can go out cowering, or you can go out, sword in hand, taking as many of those cursed vermin as possible before you fall. If you do that, I will be proud. If you do that, my father will be proud."

Her voice grew loud and her words were clear. "Today, let us die, for the sake of our King!"

She raised her sword and the men raised their's, voices matching hers; a chorus of rebellion they hoped the enemy would hear.  

It was not long before they saw the dust of their enemies' horses, filling the small valley below their sacrificial high ground. She instructed the men to form two lines. The first line was made up of the remaining archers. They went down on one knee, nocking their arrows as they did. The second line was made up of what was left of the battalion. She knew they had no chance, but they would die with honor, fighting for their King, her father. 

"Hold steady archers!" Her voice rang out even as the noise rose ushered in by the approaching chaos. "Hold until I give the order!"

Closer the dust came and along with it the sound of pounding hooves, a battalion of enemy riders bringing death.

Her heart beat rose and sweat mingled with the dirt and grime trickling down her neck. It felt itchy. Funny, she thought, the things one thinks about before one dies. 

Suddenly, the sky seemed to turn dark. She lifted her eyes up and saw shadows coursing through the sky over her head. She felt confused, but then those shadows became the solid forms of horses and their riders. Her heart sank. They were surrounded...

But wait! Those riders wore the King's colors!

Her men looked just as confused as she felt, but more and more shadows flew overhead, diving straight into the approaching storm. She heard a shout.

"Daughter!"

Pixabay

A dusty figure on his steady mount appeared behind her. It was her father, the King.

He smiled at her, then held down his hand. Pulling her up onto his horse, he commanded others of his battalion to take up her remaining men. Once all the were mounted with other soldiers, the King raised his hand and his voice.

"This ends now!"

(This was a fictional work by Amy D. Christensen)

*     *     *     *     *      *

This fictional work is meant to remind you, when all seems lost, the King is behind you. When the dust storm of the approaching enemy brings you to the end of yourself, the King is above you. When you are severely outnumbered and you have very little left to fight with, the King is diving in ahead of you. He will be there for you, every day, every hour, every battle and especially when you finally lay down your weapons and face the last enemy of death. 

“ ....I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

— Matthew 28:20 (NASB)

For the other parts in this fictional series, click on the links below. 

Part 1: Return to Battle

Part 2: A Father's Perspective

Part 3: Waiting