Taste and See
A Sampling of First Chapters
by
John 3:16 Marketing Network Authors
Plus Other Surprises
Christmas Gift 2011
Volume One
“O taste and see that the LORD is good: blessed is the man that trusts in Him”
Psalm 34:8
Edited by Lorilyn Roberts
Published by the John 3:16 Marketing Network at Smashwords
Copyright 2011, John 3:16 Marketing Network, Gainesville, FL
Cover Design by Cheryl Rogers based on book cover artwork submitted by the authors.
Formatting by Lorilyn Roberts and Cheryl Rogers
Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, New King James Version, Contemporary English Version, King James Version, New Living Translation, New International Version, New American Standard Version, English Standard Version, copyright 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a Division of Good News Publishers. http://www.gnpcb.org/page/esv_copyright/; American Standard Version of 1901; and the Analytical-Literal Translation of the New Testament of the Holy Bible. Copyright 1999-2001 by Gary F. Zeolla of Darkness to Light Ministry (www.dtl.org/).
Credits: DawnSinger cover design by Anna O’Brien in collaboration with Port Yonder Press.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this ebook. It is copyrighted property and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
Chapter 1: Janalyn Voigt, DawnSinger
Chapter 2: Bernard Boulton, Do You Wanna Be Made Whole?
Chapter 3: Elaine Marie Cooper, The Promise of Deer Run
Chapter 4: Laura J. Davis, Come to Me
Chapter 5: Ashley Dawn, Shadows From the Past
Chapter 6: Sidney W. Frost, The Vengeance Squad
Chapter 7: April W. Gardner, Wounded Spirits
Chapter 8: Tracy Krauss, And the Beat Goes On
Chapter 9: Ken Kuhlken, Midheaven
Chapter 10: Marcia Lee Laycock, One Smooth Stone
Chapter 11: Lisa J. Lickel, Meander Scar
Chapter 12: Patience Prence, SCARS: An Amazing End-Times Prophecy Novel
Chapter 13: W.R. Pursche and Michael Gabriele, The Eternal Messiah
Chapter 14: Eddie Snipes, I Called Him Dancer
Chapter 15: Amanda Stephan, Lonely Hearts
Chapter 16: Diane Tatum, Gold Earrings
Chapter 17: Kenneth Winters, The Lost Crown of Colonnade
Chapter 18: Tom Blubaugh, Night of the Cossack
Chapter 19: Lynn Dove, Shoot the Wounded
Chapter 20: Rev. Serafim Gascoigne, Landing Place
Chapter 21: Dr. Robert E. McGinnis, Raised in Paradise
Chapter 22: Dr. Robert E. McGinnis, White Bird Returns
Chapter 23: Cheryl Rogers, Just Like Jonah Wail Tales
Chapter 24: Evelyn Uslar-Pietri, Pirate’s Gold, Treasure to Die For
Chapter 25: Amanda Washington, Chronicles of the Broken
Chapter 26: Judi Chesshir, My Finny Fin Fin
Chapter 27: Brenda K. Hendricks, What’s Better Than That, Seren Dippity?
Chapter 28: Jay Miller, Sal and Sally
Chapter 29: Sherrill S. Cannon, Santa’s Birthday Gift
Chapter 30: Nike Chillemi, Burning Hearts, recipes
Chapter 31: Saundra Dalton-Smith, Finding Your G.R.A.C.E. Place , a devotional
Chapter 33: Rose Allen McCauley, Regeneration, short story
Chapter 34: B.J. Robinson, Hope Lives Even as a Last Resort, a devotional
Chapter 35: Deborah H. Bateman, The Book of Ruth-A Story of Love and Redemption
Chapter 36: Carol A. Brown, The Mystery of Spiritual Sensitivity
Chapter 37: Sana Edoja, Knowing God
Chapter 38: Anita Estes, When God Speaks
Chapter 39: S.E. Gregg, The Christian Olympics, Going for the Gold Crowns
Chapter 40: CJ and Shelley Hitz, Forgiveness Formula: Finding Lasting Freedom in Christ
Chapter 41: Paulette Harper Johnson, Completely Whole
Chapter 42: Ray W. Lincoln, INNERKINETICS TM
Chapter 43: Patty Mason, Transformed by Desire: A Journey of Awakening to Life and Love
Chapter 44: Kimberley Payne, Fit for Faith – 7 Weeks to Improved Spiritual & Physical Health
Chapter 45: Scott M. Shafer, Receiving Authority
Chapter 46: Joyce Schneider, Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But Words Can Kill My Spirit
Chapter 48: Janet Perez Eckles, Simply Salsa: Dancing Without Fear at God’s Fiesta
Chapter 49: Theresa Franklin, Journey to Fulfillment, From Stumbling Blocks to Stepping Stones
Chapter 50: Sally Franz, Scrambled Leggs…A Snarky Tale of Hospital Hooey
Chapter 51: Kimberly J. James, Running on G: What’s Filling Your Tank?
Chapter 52: Deborah McCarragher, Mission Possible – Spiritual Covering
Chapter 53: Anita Mellot, School Is Where the Home Is
Chapter 54: Mogama, Refugee Was My Name
Chapter 55: Debra A. Newell, A Strand of Pearls
Chapter 56: Lorilyn Roberts, Children of Dreams
Chapter 57: Alberta Sequeira, Someone Stop This Merry-Go-Round: An Alcoholic Family in Crisis
Chapter 58: Jessica Zondervan, Breathing on Purpose: Surviving the Death of a Loved One
God’s Purpose For You Through The John 3:16 Marketing Network
“O taste and see that the LORD is good: blessed is the man that trusts in Him” (Psalm 34:8).
Dear Reader,
I am glad that you have decided to enjoy the stories in this book. The writers who have collaborated on this project share a common desire: To use their gifts to communicate with you the purpose of God for your life.
You may be asking the question, what do reading stories have to do with the purpose of God for my life? The John 3:16 Marketing Network authors believe that God is creative and uses many different expressions to get people’s attention.
Words are very important to God and the way those words are used is equally important to Him. In everything God does, He uses words. When He created the universe, He used words. Before He formed mankind, He talked about the kind of man and woman that He would create. Not only does God use words, but He gives words to writers, and then He gives the desire to writers to pen stories that will show the reader an aspect of who He is.
God is so awesome that He is revealed in many ways through the Bible, a written book, but the foundational way that God is revealed is through His love. God loves every human being who He created in His image, and it is His greatest desire to have a personal relationship with you and me. God had such a powerful longing to connect with every human being that He sent His Son Jesus Christ to reconnect us with Him.
Here is an interesting fact: We were disconnected from God by words spoken to the first man and woman by our common enemy: the devil. Jesus Christ came to undo what had been done. He came as the Son of God. He came as the Light of the world. But He also demonstrated the uniqueness of God by telling stories. He told many stories to capture people’s minds and turn their hearts to God. After Jesus would tell a story, some of those who heard Him would follow Him to ask Him what the story meant, and Jesus would give them further explanation.
What we, the writers of the John3:16 Marketing Network, hope is that the stories we offer in this book will encourage you to seek God about His purpose for your life. The plans of God for your life are many, but all of His desires for you start with this:
God loves you: “For God so loved the world.”
God gave His Son for you: “That He gave His only begotten Son.”
The Son gives you a life-changing opportunity: “That whosoever believes on Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”
God’s purpose for your life is to have eternal life which is abundant and incredible. God has given us the gift of writing to pen stories that show His love, grace, and man’s opportunity to live the way God always intended for him to live. Thank you for letting us share our stories to help you find your way to God. I pray that your best days are ahead as you see God in the pages of Taste and See, First Chapters and Other Samplings from the John 3:16 Marketing Network.
PEACE, PURPOSE, PROSPERITY
Bernard Boulton, author and pastor
Danville, Virginia
Chapter 1: Janalyn Voigt, DawnSinger
What We Didn’t Know
You were crowned in glory
Though we thought it less.
You were clothed in honor.
We mocked your nakedness.
Blood and tears flowed together
Down your battered, gentle face.
We thought of it as defeat:
Your sacrifice and grace.
“Father, forgive them!”
Was your heartfelt plea.
Your love was greater
Than our enmity.
We told the truth
When we called you “king,”
Though we didn’t know
What your death would bring.
We didn’t know
When we raised you up
That you were drinking
Our own death cup.
We didn’t know
When we pierced your side
That for three days only
Would you abide
In the darkness of the tomb
To pay our fee.
Now cross, tomb, and cup
Each stand empty.
By Janalyn Voigt
Website: Janalyn Voigt
Chapter 2: Bernard Boulton, Do You Wanna Be Made Whole?
Reprinted from Do You Wanna Be Made Whole? AA Christian Fiction, by Bernard Boulton. Copyrighted. Used by permission of author.
Pastor James Maxwell sat at his desk. He was nervous as he awaited his ten o’clock appointment. At a few minutes before ten his intercom buzzed.
“Yes?”
“Pastor, your ten o’ clock appointment is here.”
“Thank you, Doris. Send them in.”
Pastor Maxwell observed the couple as they walked through the door, into his office. The man was Theo Dexter. He was six-foot-one and dark complexioned. His wife, Aretha, was five-foot-nine and brown skinned. She bore a strong resemblance to Queen Latifah.
They took off their coats and placed them in the closet. “Please have a seat.” Theo took a chair and moved it away from where he assumed Aretha was going to sit. Aretha rolled her eyes as she watched Theo put some distance between the two of them. Pastor Maxwell observed their faces to guess where they were emotionally. Theo’s face registered resignation and Aretha’s face showed hostility.
Pastor Maxwell sighed. “How was everyone’s week?”
“It has been the same old thing, Pastor. He’s been ignoring me as usual. He only speaks when it’s necessary. He’s civil around the children, but that’s it.” Aretha’s voice trembled as she spoke.
“She’s not sorry, Pastor.” His voice revealed his emotional exhaustion. He spoke as a man who had been in an intense battle and was on the verge of giving up the fight. “She doesn’t care that she betrayed me. She wants to move on. She wants me to forget. I can’t forget what she’s done to me, to us, to our family. ”
Aretha turned her head toward Theo with her jaws clenched. “I’m tired of you. Your behavior is juvenile. You could move on if you wanted to.” She stared intently at him, but he wouldn’t return her penetrating look.
Pastor Maxwell frowned. He had been counseling them for five months and nothing had changed. It seemed as if Theo wasn’t going to speak to Aretha no matter how hard Pastor Maxwell encouraged him.
“Theo, don’t you have anything to say to your wife?”
Theo looked around the office. His eyes rested on the paperweight that sat on Pastor Maxwell’s desk. The words on it read, With God all things are possible. He glanced over at Aretha and then looked at Pastor Maxwell. “Pastor, I’ve been looking at that paperweight for the last five months. When we first came here I believed those words. I believed that God could repair our marriage and I wanted Him to.” He sighed and shook his head. “But now I’m just tired. I’m tired of Aretha. I’m tired of her playing the victim. She’s the one who cheated on me.”
Aretha shook her finger at Theo. “I’m not playing the victim, Theo. But you act as if you haven’t done anything wrong. It was your neglect that pushed me into the arms of another man.”
“You are the most self-centered woman I know. You have the nerve to cheat on me and then blame me for your affair.”
Aretha’s mouth trembled. “You just can’t admit that you don’t care about me. You
* * *
Aretha’s mouth trembled. “You just can’t admit that you don’t care about me. You stopped being my prince, you stopped loving me. You gave up on me, Theo, you gave up on us.”
Pastor Maxwell frowned. He rubbed his forehead as he saw the anguished look on Aretha’s face. He could hear the pain and rejection in her voice. He waited for Theo to respond. When he didn’t, Pastor Maxwell asked him, “Theo, don’t you have anything to say?”
Theo’s head was bowed and then he looked up at Aretha for the first time since they entered Pastor Maxwell’s office. “I never stopped loving you, Aretha. And I’m sorry for hurting you now. But I need you to understand that you hurt me. You hurt me bad and you’re not the least bit sorry. And that’s what I can’t deal with. Why can’t you be sorry for what you did?”
Pastor Maxwell had hoped this would be the breakthrough that the embattled couple needed.
Come on, Aretha, and tell him that you are sorry, Pastor Maxwell thought as he awaited Aretha’s reply.
Aretha stood up and yelled at Theo, “Are you sorry? What about your mistress? You put your business before our marriage. You loved your business more than you loved me.”
Theo jumped out of his chair and got in Aretha’s face. “I’m tired of hearing that same old excuse, and your same old complaint. You knew when you married me that I was going to one day have my own business. In the beginning you shared that dream with me. You knew how much time I would have to put into the business until it was successful. All I ever needed from you was patience and support.” He spoke so loudly that his voice reverberated through the room.
There was so much tension between them that Pastor Maxwell got up and walked over to where the two were standing. He was afraid blows were about to be exchanged between the two as they stood staring at each other like two fighters in the ring.
“I wanted you to succeed, but not at the expense of us.”
Theo looked away for a moment. And then he looked at Aretha and took a deep breath before he said, “I want a divorce, Aretha. I’m moving out.”
Pastor Maxwell’s face fell as he thought, No, Theo, don’t give up yet, son. Fight for your marriage.
Aretha raised her hand to slap Theo, but he caught her hand before she delivered the blow to his face. She started to cry as she yanked her hand out of his. She backed away when she realized she had tried to hit Theo. The look of pure anger and rage in his face scared her. In sixteen years of marriage, she had never raised her hand to her husband. She breathed a little easier when she saw Pastor Maxwell looking intently at Theo. Pastor Maxwell at six-foot-three was more than strong enough to stop Theo if he had any thoughts of retaliation.
“You’re going to leave me and your sons?”
Theo was resolved and his mind was made up. He interacted with Aretha as if she was a business associate and he was closing a deal. “I’m leaving you. I’ll never leave my sons.”
“I’ll take that precious business of yours if you leave me. You’ll be broke.”
* * *
“Do you really think you can take my business from me? You don’t get it, do you, woman? You can’t take what’s in my heart. You can’t have my dreams, Aretha.”
Aretha’s eyes blazed. “That used to be me in your heart.”
Walking to the closet to retrieve her coat, Aretha said to Pastor Maxwell, “Thank you, Pastor Maxwell, for your time. I’m leaving.” She put on her coat, looked at Theo as if she wanted to kill him and walked out of the office.
Theo dropped down in the chair and put his head in his hands. Pastor Maxwell pulled up a chair next to him and waited for Theo to compose himself. Although the seasoned pastor was surprised by Theo’s decision, he was confident that the two could heal from this and go on in their marriage. Even if Theo or Aretha didn’t believe it today, Pastor Maxwell believed it was very possible for God to repair what had been torn down. When Theo looked up, Pastor Maxwell asked him, “Theo, are you sure about divorce. Do you really want to leave your family?”
“I’m not leaving my boys. I’m leaving Aretha.”
“Listen, son, I know what you’re saying, but it won’t be the same when you are no longer living in the same house with them. How old are your sons?”
“T.J. is thirteen and Shad is eight.”
Pastor Maxwell placed his hand lovingly on Theo’s shoulder. “Be careful, Theo. If you made this decision because of what happened today then reconsider it. If you can’t think about Aretha, think about your sons. You and I both know what it means to grow up without a father.”
Theo placed his head in his hands again. He then looked up at Pastor Maxwell. “Pastor, I can’t do this anymore. I love Aretha. The Lord knows I do, but for five years we’ve been going back and forth. She said I loved the business more than I loved her and the boys. But it wasn’t true. I was building a business for us. It was our shared vision. When she married me she supported my dream of having my own construction business. And then we started the business and she changed. I had to spend time on those jobs to make the business work.”
“Theo, I know you believed that, but whenever you become engaged in any activity that takes you away from your family you are endangering your family. You needed to find a medium between your business and your family. If anything, you should’ve learned that from me. I lost my family because I put them behind the ministry.”
“But, Pastor, it was only for a season. I’ll admit, it was a long season, four years is a long time to sacrifice, but I thought it was worth it for us.” Theo laughed nervously, rubbing his forehead. “The ironic thing is she had the affair last year when I was starting to cut back my hours at work. For four years she fought me about being away from home so much and then when the business started to succeed and I hired other men to take over for me then she goes out and has an affair. Well, it doesn’t matter, I don’t want her anymore.”
Pastor Maxwell thought about his relationship with Theo as he listened to Theo speak. He remembered the first time he saw Theo. He was a baby when his grandparents brought him to the church. Pastor Maxwell watched Theo grow up under the spiritual supervision of Theodore and Annie Dexter. When Theo turned thirteen he confessed Jesus as his savior and was baptized by Pastor Maxwell. Sixteen years ago, Pastor Maxwell officiated at the wedding of Theo and Aretha and he dedicated both their sons to the Lord. Just a few months ago Pastor Maxwell baptized Theo Jr.
“Let’s pray, Theo.” Theo bowed his head as Pastor Maxwell prayed.
* * *
“Father, give Theo Your mind on the decision he made today. Father, guide him to do what pleases You. Father, I declare that Your will be done between Theo and Aretha. I bring the two of them to Your throne of grace and I ask You, Father, to help them do what You have already ordained for them to do.”
Pastor Maxwell walked Theo out of the office and walked with him to his car. As he watched Theo pull off he declared that he was going to stay at the throne of God’s grace until God brought Theo and Aretha back together again.
TO READ MORE, you can purchase Do You Wanna Be Made Whole? by Bernard Boulton at:
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/53768 (ebook)
http://amzn.to/v1loGf (paperback).
Chapter 3: Elaine Marie Cooper, The Promise of Deer Run
Reprinted from The Promise of Deer Run, a Christian historical romance by Elaine Marie Cooper. Copyright 2010 by iUniverse. Prologue reprinted with permission of author
“Huzzah! It’s over! The treaty’s been signed! Huzzah!”
The news the troops had been awaiting for months was now a reality: the Americans had won the war against England. The United States of America was free and independent that spring of 1783. Eight long years of battle had proven victorious for the colonists.
Nineteen-year-old Nathaniel Stearns emerged from the small wooden barracks at West Point, New York. He had slept fitfully all night, finally falling into a deep slumber just before dawn. He abruptly awoke when the cheers reached his ears. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the early morning sun.
“It’s really over?” he said, shading his eyes as he spoke to the jubilant private.
“Over and done, once for all! Johnny Bull is going back where he belongs!” shouted the soldier. “Come! Let’s share a gill of the good creature to celebrate!”
“You go on. I’ll be there in a bit.”
Nathaniel stood by himself as the others ran toward the hogshead of rum that the officers brought out for celebration.
But the elation of this moment was blighted for young Corporal Stearns. The last three years of war had brought more than their share of personal losses, overshadowing the joy of victory. Nathaniel had borne the death of a close comrade, as well as the betrayal of his childhood sweetheart. He would never be the same after seeing his best friend’s face blown away by enemy fire. That memory visited Nathaniel’s sleep on a regular basis, like an unwelcome visitor you wish you had never met.
As he turned back toward the barracks, Nathaniel caught a glimpse of his father approaching. Sergeant Benjamin Stearns had been away from home for the duration of the war, with an occasional furlough to visit his family in Deer Run. The years away from home had deepened the lines around the older man’s eyes and mouth. The jovial man of Nathaniel’s youthful memories had been replaced by a more somber gentleman with a slight stoop about his shoulders.
The younger soldier immediately noticed the change that the news of victory brought to his father’s countenance. He was smiling.
“Father.” Nathaniel stood at attention.
“At ease.” The older man grinned from ear to ear. “Nathaniel, I’m certain you want to celebrate with the lads.” His grin slowly faded as he grew more serious. “But I’m asking you to consider heading back home as soon as you can. Here are your discharge papers. I asked the captain to prepare yours first. I want you to go home and stay at the farm. Check on your mother and brother and sisters.” The older man’s voice caught in his throat. “My heart weighs heavy with worry. Please…”
Nathaniel interrupted him. “I’ll pack immediately, sir. You can count on me.” The young man saluted his father.
Benjamin Stearns looked fondly at his oldest child. “I’ve always been able to count on you, son. You’ve always made me proud.”
Tears began to well in both men’s eyes. The older man cleared his throat and forced his shoulders to attention.
“Well then. Be on your way, lad,” Sergeant Stearns commanded quietly.
“Yes, sir.” Nathaniel sniffed sharply and wiped off his face. “Father, when will you return home? What shall I tell Mother?”
“Tell her … I’ll be home forthwith. Tell her to look through her golden curtains and watch me arrive with the sun.” He smiled. “I know how much your mother delights in seeing the sunrise through her only window.”
Nathaniel couldn’t help but smile at the thought. The two men embraced and his father turned away to join the celebration.
Returning to the barracks, Nathaniel gathered his few belongings. When he stepped out the door to begin the long walk to Deer Run, he searched the crowd of joyous troops for a glimpse of his father, but he could see him nowhere. Nathaniel approached the group, grabbed the half cup of rum allotted to each soldier, and downed the drink in two quick gulps. He threw his satchel over his shoulder and started the journey home.
It took nearly a week to walk from the encampment in New York to the outskirts of Deer Run. Nearing the family farm, he desperately hoped that his mother or brother or sisters—someone—would burst out the front door to greet him. It had been three years since Nathaniel was home and until this moment he did not realize just how homesick he was.
Approaching the log cabin, he only heard the wind as a hollow, haunting sound stirring the trees in the woods. Chilled air swept against his neck and he pulled his collar up higher. The smell of rain infused his nostrils.
“Mother?” he said, his voice filled with apprehension.
He slowly opened the heavy wooden door, crafted years ago by his father. “Ethan? Sadie? Hello?”
His heart almost stopped as he saw that the cabin was deserted. He looked slowly around the room. There were no linens, no dishes, no food cooking in the hearth. Even the yellow curtains that his mother was so fond of were gone.
What has happened? Where is everyone?
He noticed a letter nailed to the wall above the chest of drawers. He walked across the room with unsteady legs and removed the old parchment.
His hands trembled as he began to read the note, dated September 30, 1780:
Dearest Benjamin and Nathaniel,
It is with great sadness that I have been forced to leave our home. Ethan took ill some months after Nathaniel left. Despite our greatest efforts to treat his terrible fever, dearest Ethan went home to heaven. My heart is still breaking.
As I am unable to keep up the farm, my sister Abigail in Boston has kindly offered to take in the three girls and me. I am in despair that I may never see either of you again.
lease send word of your safekeeping and come to Boston as soon as you are able. I await word of my brave men.
With loving regard,
Your Wife and Mother
The paper dropped to the floor without Nathaniel taking notice. He stood there silently for a moment before racing out the door to the burial ground up near the woods.
Tears stung at his eyes. Strands of his long blond hair whipped his face, clinging to the moisture on his cheeks. Frantic, the young man almost tripped more than once on the mass of weeds growing in the old cornfield.
“This cannot be!” he cried, but his voice was lost in the howling wind.
Arriving at the gravesite, the cold letters on the tombstone told the tragic truth:
“Ethan Stearns, born January 19, 1766, died September 2, 1780.”
Nathaniel’s fingers slowly etched the chiseled letters. He outlined them repeatedly with trembling hands encrusted with mud.
Ethan was indeed dead.
The young veteran fell to his knees and shook his head slowly back and forth.
“No. No. No!”
Sobs wracked his body with rhythmic waves. He would have raised a fist toward heaven … if he only had the strength.
TO READ MORE, you can purchase The Promise of Deer Run by Elaine Marie Cooper at:
http://amzn.to/vhtHAl (Kindle format)
http://amzn.to/tov1ml (paperback).
Chapter 4: Laura J. Davis, Come to Me
Reprinted from Come to Me, historical fiction, by Laura J. Davis. Copyright 2010 Laura J. Davis. Used by permission of the author.
Jerusalem 44 A.D.
She sat outside for over an hour meditating, praying and remembering. The rising sun wrapped her in a warm cocoon that threatened to lull her back to sleep. Mary arched her back and stretched. She ran her hands over the cream-coloured pillow covering her precious bench and yawned. Joseph had surprised her with the bench the first year they were married. They would often sit together in the early morning hours, when the rest of the world was still asleep and the sun was waking up.
How she longed for those times again, when Joseph would take her hand and they would begin the day in prayer and dedication to Yahweh. My sweet Joseph, how I long to hear your voice and feel your embrace once more.
She had known Joseph for most of her life. In a village as small as Nazareth, it would have been unusual if their paths had never crossed. Older than her by twelve years, Joseph had watched Mary grow from a child into a beautiful young woman. With careful planning, he had placed himself in her life with the purpose of marrying her when she came of age. He had called her ‘Little Mary’ and she had called him her ‘Gentle Giant,’ names said with an affection that had grown into a deep and lasting love.
“You’re such a long way up, Joseph!” she would laugh. “I get a sore neck just looking at you, much less kissing you.”
Then one day he had come into the house and said, “Little Mary, I have a surprise for you, but first, you must close your eyes!” Mary obeyed and felt Joseph sweep her up in his muscular arms and place her on something soft and luxurious.
“Open your eyes now,” Joseph said, his brown eyes twinkling with excitement.
“Oh, Joseph!” For the first time in their marriage, she was able to look straight into his eyes.
“What is this?” She looked at her bare feet and wiggled her toes into the cream-coloured pillow that stretched across a new oak bench. A small gasp of surprise escaped her lips. “It is beautiful.” She sighed as she ran her hands along the back of the bench. “Hear O Israel…Oh, Joseph! You have carved the Shema into it. Oh, how precious.” She clasped her hands together and turned toward her husband. “You made me a prayer bench.” Her almond shaped eyes shone with delight.
“Ah, well … my motives are not that pure I am afraid.”
She tilted her head. “Oh?”
“Yes, I was thinking we could use it so you wouldn’t get a sore neck kissing me.” He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist pulling her close. “Or you could use it for praying.” He shrugged and smiled. “Your choice.”
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think for now I shall use it for kissing you and later I will use it for prayer.”
Mary sighed, a sleepy smile lingering on her face. They had dubbed it the kissing bench. They had thought it was something their children would laugh and giggle over in the years to come. What a wonderful life we made together!
It was a good marriage, despite its uncertain beginnings. So many events had happened in those early days that Mary could not imagine which memory she cherished most—the angelic visitation, the birth of Jesus, or his resurrection. The enormity of what had transpired in her life had humbled her more than she realized.
Of course, she would never cherish the memories of what they had done to her firstborn son. Forgiving them was easier than forgetting. She could never forget. How long had it been since that horrible day? She could still smell the blood and hear Jesus’ screams mingled with her own. Her chest grew tight with grief as she closed her eyes to dispel the images that had haunted her for the last eleven years.
She was fifty-eight years old and until six months ago had been with her nephew, the Apostle John, on a brief visit to Rome to strengthen the churches there. When the Emperor Claudius began expelling Jews from Rome, John had decided that she should return to his home in Jerusalem for her own safety.
“Poor John,” she muttered as she recalled the argument she had had with him over returning.
“It’s too dangerous for you in Rome now, woman!” He had pleaded with her all day and finally in anger and frustration gathered up her belongings and started stuffing them into a satchel. “As the mother of our Lord and a Jew, your life is in more danger than mine right now. This discussion is over. You will leave without any more arguments.”
Mary remembered folding her arms across her chest and swallowing the angry words that had threatened to spill from her lips. No one had ever talked to her in such a manner.
“John, if it is dangerous, why are you staying? Should I, the mother of the Messiah, become a coward and run to save my life when others are dying? It is not right. Your brother James was beheaded for proclaiming Jesus as the Messiah. I should do no less.”
“Jesus charged me with your safety, Aunt Mary. Would you have me dishonour my Lord by shirking my responsibilities?”
That was when she had seen the pain and anguish on his weathered face. She had finally understood. He could not bear losing her as he had his brother and so she submitted to his wishes.
He took her to Jerusalem, stayed for a while to help her adjust and then returned to Rome to minister to the churches there. She now spent her days with the other believers in Jerusalem, meeting together regularly for prayer and fellowship. Today she was expecting Luke, a Greek physician led to salvation through the Apostle Paul.
As she waited for his arrival, she kicked off her sandals and wiggled her toes. Although it had rained the night before, it was now a beautiful spring day. Mary loved the earthy smell in the air after a rainfall. It was a combination of mud, water and worms that oddly reminded her of the seaside. Breathing deeply, she leaned her head against the rough stone of John’s home, stretched out her bare feet and plopped them in the nearest puddle.
From the time she was a child, she had often gone barefoot through the hills of Galilee after it had rained, for she loved to squish her toes in the mud and feel the cool blades of grass on her feet. In Jerusalem a plot of grass was hard to come by, which made her miss her home in Nazareth all the more. Joseph had always worried that she might cut her feet on the sharp rocks, or sting them on the nettles hidden throughout the Galilean countryside.
She sighed and closed her eyes. Oh Joseph, my darling, there is no fear of that here
“He is risen!”
Startled, Mary shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up to see a blonde, blue-eyed man, with a clean-shaven face and strong jaw line.
“He is risen indeed! You must be Luke. John has told me so much about you. Come to check up on me have you?” She smiled, grabbed the bowl of olives that sat beside her and put it on her lap.
Luke chuckled, his dimples showing off his chiselled features. “Actually, I just wanted the chance to meet my Lord’s mother - but don’t tell John. He thinks I’m here to inquire after your health.”
She laughed, her brown eyes sparkling. “You don’t fool me—either of you. John sends so many different people to check on my welfare that it’s a wonder I can remember all their names.”
She patted the bench inviting Luke to sit. Taking some olives from the bowl, Mary proceeded to pit them. Luke watched in fascination at how quickly her slender fingers worked.
“May I help?” He asked.
Raising her eyebrows, Mary stared at Luke for a moment, then nodded and placed the bowl between them. “Jesus used to like pitting olives too. He said he found it calming.” She giggled. “Unfortunately, he ate more than he pitted.”
Luke chuckled as he popped an olive into his mouth.
“I’ll tell you what I told Jesus,” she said, shaking her finger at him. “If you eat more than you pit, then you’ve just had your supper.”
“Well then, I’d best stop eating them, as I’m used to eating more than olives at my meals.”
“Get to work then and I might feed you more than olives!”
Content in an affable silence, they settled into their work. Luke immediately felt welcome, as if he had known Mary his whole life and he told her so. Mary blushed and thanked him.
“Oh, my goodness!” She suddenly jumped up from the bench and ran into the house.
Luke, perplexed at her sudden disappearance, continued pitting olives. He was about to follow her into the house when she returned with a basin of water to wash the dust off his feet. She knelt on the ground and removed his sandals. Embarrassed that the mother of the Lord was washing his feet, Luke swallowed his discomfort and allowed her to minister to him, remembering the lesson Jesus had taught his disciples the last night they were together.
When she finished, she proceeded to wash her own feet and then put her sandals back on. This led her to tell him about Joseph and his fear of her running barefoot.
“He was such a wonderful man,” she said. “He was a man who feared the Almighty, a good man—especially when I found myself with child.” She poured the dirty water from the basin onto the ground and then sat beside him. “You cannot begin to imagine what it was like during those days! I was fourteen years old, betrothed to a man much older than I and with child –but not with his child.”
She grew still and stared off into the distance. Luke gazed at her in silence, revelling in the fact that he was with the woman who had given birth to the Saviour of the world. He wondered how she had handled that night. Where was she when the labour had begun? Who had delivered the baby? Had there been any complications? Luke had so many questions, he hardly knew where to begin.
Mary’s eyelids dropped as she let her mind wander back to the night of Jesus’ birth. She had been surprised at the pain. In fact, she had never realized it would hurt so badly. Afterwards, oh afterwards, the reward of her son was so great that she had thought her heart would split wide open with love. The King of the world had been born to her!
“Happy thoughts?”
Mary’s eyes flew open. Blushing, she smiled and said, “His birth—it amazes me still.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what was it like back then? When you found out you were … um with child?”
“It’s been over forty-four years since Jesus’ birth.” She shrugged. “Aside from my immediate family, I’ve never really talked to anyone about it before.” Mary sighed and pitted more olives as she contemplated how much she should tell the young doctor.
TO READ MORE, you can purchase Come to Me by Laura J. Davis at:
http://tinyurl.com/3hazhff (Kindle format)
http://tinyurl.com/66j2czw (paperback)
Chapter 5: Ashley Dawn, Shadows From the Past
Reprinted from Shadows From the Past by Ashley Dawn. Copyright 2011 by Ashley Dawn. Used by permission of Suspense Publishing.
Aurora stood there—frozen in fear. A man had her gun pointed directly at her brother, Lance. Time stood still. “Please, just let us go.” Her voice shook slightly. Not enough to convey how truly terrified she was. She was trying not to anger the man, but getting more worried as each moment passed. Aurora was praying with all her heart. He was just a crook, this was a random robbery, but she knew that wasn’t the case. The attack was too well planned and executed. The man stood in the shadows…silently watching them. His silence was unnerving—terrifying!
“Who are you?” Lance’s voice was tight with worry. The man had been silent the whole time. No demands. No requests. Nothing. Only silence.
Aurora’s thoughts ran wild. Who was this man? Did this have anything to do with her undercover operation? Why involve Lance? He should have made some kind of demands by now shouldn’t he? She felt frantic. She just had to know the answers to her questions. It could mean the difference between life and death…hers and her brother’s.
This man obviously wanted something, and she silently prayed it wasn’t their lives. She didn’t want either of them to be killed, but if one of them died tonight, she hoped it was her. Aurora didn’t think she could bear life without Lance. He was the only family she had left in the world…the only person who completely understood her.
“Please, let him go. He knows nothing.” She decided to try the route that would answer some of her questions. Lance, obviously startled by her words looked at her strangely. She couldn’t explain to him now, she had to try and save his life.
“You should have thought about your family before you became a cop, Miss Kavvan.” The shadowy figure finally spoke, but his voice was only a frozen, harsh whisper. Even at a whisper, the voice sounded oddly familiar to Aurora’s ears, yet she just couldn’t place it. Her mind was reeling. Whoever this man was, he knew she was a cop! No one around here should know that. She was undercover.
The man had almost knocked her out when he’d hit her on the back of the head, and now the pain was beginning to make her lose focus. She couldn’t think clearly. Couldn’t concentrate. All Aurora could think, “This is all my fault!”
“What’s this about?” Lance’s voice sounded almost foreign to Aurora. It was a tone she’d seldom heard. In fact, it was a voice she’d only heard once before in her life…the night their parents were killed. Lance was scared. But Lance doesn’t get scared! His work was more dangerous than hers. She was the one who worried if she would ever see her brother alive again whenever he got a page and went on another assignment! He couldn’t be scared. He was Lance—her big brother—her protector.
Aurora knew Lance wasn’t scared for himself; he was worried about her. He was terrified he couldn’t protect her. He had always been able to protect her. She loved him for being so protective, and right now they were both still alive. That is the way it had to stay. She reached over and slid her hand into Lance’s. He gave her trembling fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
“Well, you are going to die, and your sister is going to watch. It’s that simple.” The words were said in such an evil and emotionless voice that Aurora’s blood turned to ice in her veins. This man was serious. She was right he had planned this! He was using Lance, her brother, as an example for her. A warning, she thought bitterly. He couldn’t kill Lance! He’d said this was because she was a cop. It had nothing to do with Lance. Aurora fought through her hysterical thoughts and concentrated on what the man was saying to her.
“Now, say goodbye to your brother, Aurora, and know that he was killed because of you and with your gun. It is the price you pay for choosing to be a cop. Your brother’s life…,” with that he raised the gun. She heard a shot and watched Lance crumple to the ground at her feet, his hand sliding from hers.
“No, Lance….No!!!”
“Aurora, wake up!” Joe hollered as loud as he dared, trying to get through to her. He had to get her out of this dream! She was drenched with sweat and sobbing uncontrollably. He’d been trying to wake her since she started saying Lance’s name. When she screamed her brother’s name in sheer terror, a chill ran up his spine. She started thrashing, wanting to kill someone. Her fiery red hair was flying everywhere and it wasn’t easy for him to pin her so she wouldn’t hurt either of them. She might be petite, but she packed quite a punch. It was difficult to avoid all the kicks and jabs she threw, but somehow he managed.
“It’s a dream, Roar. Only a dream. Shhhh.” Her emerald eyes flew open, but he could tell she wasn’t seeing reality. All she saw were the horrifying images from that night at the lake. She was still in her dream. He knew she was fighting the demons of her dream and not him, but she was a lot stronger than she looked. She was trying to attack him. Luckily he was a lot bigger and had her pinned well.
“Aurora, it’s Joe! Come on, honey, wake up. It’s only a dream.” Finally, he saw the realization in her eyes. She slowly focused her tear-swollen eyes on him… and crumbled in his arms.
“Joe…it’s you,” her choked whisper almost broke his heart.
Aurora sobbed as she looked up into her partner’s kind baby blue eyes. “Oh, Joe, I was at the lake again…Lance. He’s dead and it’s all my fault…”
“Shhhh…you know better than that Rorie.” Joe soothed. Shutting his eyes, he felt the tears prick the back of his eyelids. It tore him apart to see her like this. She was the strongest, most independent woman he knew, and she was falling apart right before his eyes. He had been her partner for a little over six years and this was the first time he had ever seen her break down. Even after Lance’s death she hadn’t crumbled like this…at least not in front of him. She’d always been strong. She handled everything that was thrown at her on her own. She took it all in stride, never asking anyone for help, even though there were many people that would willingly help her. And he was at the top of that list.
Aurora had been fresh out of the academy when he’d met her. He was her first and only partner. They had been partnered to go on an undercover assignment the first day they met. They’d been the perfect pair for the operation. No one in Los Angeles knew Joe was an officer because he’d just moved from Chicago, and Aurora had just gotten out of the academy. No one would ever suspect the two of them to be undercover. At least, that’s what they thought.
The first eight months, they had gotten to know each other really well. It was hard not to when you were completely trusting each other to stay alive. It was easy to get to know and like Aurora then; they shared the same faith and when they discovered that, it made everything easier to talk about. They had talked about everything from their childhood memories, to family, to what their future dreams were. They thought their assignment was going great, and that they would finally be able to bring charges on Charles Deveraux to put him away for life. All they needed was the hard evidence to back up the rumors they knew were true. They were close to finding what they needed when the whole operation had blown up in their faces. He would neither forget the day nor what had happened to his partner on that awful night.
Aurora had gotten a call from her brother, Lance, and gone to meet him at the lake. What neither of them had known was that Aurora and Joe’s cover had already been blown, and there was someone waiting at the lake for her and Lance. Lance was murdered in cold blood right in front of his baby sister. He had raised her since their parents had been killed in a car accident when she was twelve and he was a senior in high school. Aurora and Lance had been closer than normal siblings, and Joe knew that Lance’s death tore at her heart and made her the person she was today. He had been her only family and her best friend.
That night was when she stopped believing that God was good, just, sovereign, and that He knew what was best for everyone. In her mind, God had taken her brother away from her when she had needed him here on earth. She buried herself in work to get rid of the pain, and Joe had thought she was finding her own way of coping with it. He prayed for her every day. He had hoped everything would work itself out in time. But he now knew the truth; she was hurting worse every day because she was torturing herself with guilt about something she had no control over. The whole time she wore a mask of false bravado to hide the fact she was torturing herself with grief. He should have known. He was with her more than anyone. She felt like family to him, and yet he hadn’t realized the pain she was putting herself through.
Now, Joe prayed for her like he had never prayed before. She couldn’t handle this on her own, and she knew this even if she wouldn’t admit it. She needed to let God help her through her pain and she was pushing Him away as well as everyone else.
Aurora concentrated on breathing deeply and controlling her sobs. Her head was starting to clear now. The dream was over. She was on a stake out with Joe, in an apartment building across from Charles’ main drug lab…not at that awful lake. She never wanted to go back to that place again, she thought as a shiver shook her body. It was just the dream, actually nightmare, but it wasn’t really happening. It was only her memory of what had happened—such a horrible, vivid memory. She still felt helpless because she couldn’t change the past. She was alive, and Lance was dead. That was the fact she couldn’t change no matter how much she wanted. It was this fact that she had wanted to change for the past five years. She momentarily shut her eyes only to reopen them immediately. It was Lance’s face, pale and lifeless staring up at her.
“Thanks for waking me Joe.” She sighed and tried to get up, only to realize Joe was still pinning her. She looked up into his kind face and saw the friend she loved like family staring down at her…worried. “Don’t worry. I’m completely awake now. I won’t hit you if you let go.”
“Promise?” Joe was smiling, but his baby blue eyes still held concern. He was trying to lighten the mood and she appreciated it, but her mind was still at the lake. She was somewhat embarrassed that Joe was seeing her fall apart like this, but knew she could trust him to keep it to himself. Now she needed to stop his questions before he got really worried. He was a great friend…the best friend she could possibly ask for but Aurora didn’t know if she could handle that kind of discussion right now. She was too close to breaking down and telling him everything. That was something she just couldn’t do.
“You’ll just have to take your chances.” Aurora forced a smile that she knew looked strained, but it was the best she could do. Joe let go, then grinned when she pushed him and he toppled to the floor. He stood and dusted himself off. “I guess I should be grateful you only pushed and didn’t hit me.”
Aurora’s effort at a smile was half hearted at best. She needed to get some space and regain her composure. Right now, she was still more shaken than she was willing to admit. The dreams were coming more often and were so vivid. It was like reliving that horrible night over and over—like loosing her brother again and again. She remembered everything as if it were yesterday, the clothes, the pain, and the blood. She swallowed convulsively, trying to stop the vision from invading her thoughts. Her head hurt like crazy, but her heart hurt even more. Every time she had the dream, she was paralyzed, telling Lance to run in her mind, but never able to open her mouth. She knew telling him in her dream wouldn’t change reality, but she didn’t like the feelings and memories the dream always brought back. It was her fault that Lance was dead. Her fault! She felt like hitting something in frustration, but was too exhausted to move. Her brother was dead because of her recklessness.
She couldn’t get over that fact. Never would. If only she hadn’t let her guard down, her brother would still be alive and she wouldn’t be living in torment every day of her life. She had known better. It was her job to prevent horrible things like what happened at the lake that night, not to walk blindly into them!
“Is it because it is near the anniversary of Lance’s death that the dreams are back?” Joe’s quiet question snapped her back to the present, and for that she was grateful. No matter how many people tried to convince her that it wasn’t her fault, no matter how many different ways she looked at the facts in the case, she always came to the same conclusion. It was her fault. When she closed her eyes all she could see was Lance’s lifeless body lying on the ground in a pool of blood, and she could still hear the shadow’s evil laugh. She hated that laugh! And she still felt the total helplessness and rage she had always felt. She hated feeling helpless. It made her vulnerable. She’d tried to catch Lance as he fell, but couldn’t support his weight and had fallen with him. When she looked up, the man was gone and the investigators hadn’t been able to find a trace of where he’d gone. He’d left her gun in the shadows where he stood and disappeared into the night.
“Yes.” She lied.
In all reality the nightmares had been coming almost every night for a month and getting more intense. Exactly the time she had been on this stake out. Only three days left she thought with relief. She’d been mentally ticking off the days until this was over, hoping her dreams would end with the stakeout. It was getting unbearable and impossible to hide the effects from Joe. No other stakeout had bothered her so much. It didn’t make any sense! This was a routine she had done a hundred times before. Why this one? What made it so different from any of the others?
“I think I’m gonna call J.D. and Daniel and have them come a little early to relieve us.” Joe motioned towards the phone. He was still worried and she wasn’t helping that fact by reliving the past in front of him!
“No, I can handle my job, Joe,” Aurora snapped. Annoyed that he was trying to protect her like the big brother she’d lost. Seeing the worry in Joe’s eyes reminded her of how often she’d seen the same look in Lance’s eyes when he had worried about her. She still missed him terribly. “When I can’t handle it, I’ll let you know. Okay?” She stormed to the door before realizing she had nowhere to go. She was stuck! She was on the job, and couldn’t leave just because she didn’t like what her partner had said. Still, she kept her back to him as she fumed.
She knew she was acting childish, but at the moment Aurora didn’t care. She stood trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall, shaking with pain and anger.
“Do you want to talk about it, Rorie?” Joe’s always-too-kind voice enfolded her, making her feel like a heel.
She hated the fact he could make her feel two inches tall after she’d lost her temper. He wouldn’t say a word about her outburst, but the way he immediately forgave her made Aurora feel terrible. It never mattered what she did, Joe would always forgive her. She wanted to be mad! She turned and looked at Joe and knew it was a mistake. She couldn’t stay mad at him. His concern for her was too evident in the expression on his face. Still, she could avoid his questions. He couldn’t invade her privacy if she didn’t let him. And she’d made up her mind, she wouldn’t let him!
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you but these dreams are making me edgy.” She sat down on the couch and stared out the window toward the drug lab. Nothing’s going on over there! She thought angrily. They’d been watching and listening for weeks and had absolutely nothing! It was as if Charles knew they were here and he was waiting until they left to conduct his business. None of the known men from his organization had shown their faces at the lab. Not even any of his thugs. She had hoped they would get lucky and nab either Charles’s son, Chris, or his second in command, Jim. No such luck. She hadn’t even thought of catching Charles himself over there. He always managed to keep the appearance of being a clean businessman. They had cameras and listening devices hidden all over the lab and it was as if all illegal activity had been stopped for the past few weeks. It was very suspicious.
She wished they could hurry and catch Charles in the act of making or selling drugs and put him away for good. It had been so long since they had last been this close to catching him. Almost five years. She didn’t have to calculate anything. It was the same day her brother had been killed that they had lost their evidence against Charles Deveraux. It had just disappeared into thin air. No one knew where it had gone and there was no possible way they could win a case without it. That fact was not lost to her. She knew in her heart that somehow those two events were connected. She just needed to find the evidence to prove it.