short story

Surprises

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Early morning sunlight cheerfully illuminates the cozy kitchen in her cabin by the lake. A hot cup of Paris blend tea keeps her hands toasty. Steamy, hot oatmeal with brown sugar, walnuts, and golden raisins awaits. The embers from last night’s fire snicker and glow, still giving off a bit of heat.

January at the cabin is chilly and peaceful. Dewdrops glint off the reeds standing guard at the edge of the lake. Sunlight sparkles off the frosted needles of the old pine that has stood as protector over the cabin for as long as she can remember. The many creatures that call the lake their home are still here prowling, hunting, and sunning themselves. The pace and rhythm of life slow a bit as Nature cozies into the slumber of Winter.

Charity feels her bunched-up shoulders and neck relax and release as she sits in the silence. Her tense body and racing mind need a reprieve. This is where she’ll find it. “Help me find my way back to You,” she whispers.

Charity has walked with Him for a long time, and she knows His voice, the gentle nudge that tugs at her soul. The songs and murmurs that whisper holy, divine things into her heart, speaking healing over her. “Come away…” they say.

Dressed in layers with hiking boots and a hat, Charity heads out for a walk around the lake. Filled with anticipation at the treasures and surprises she will come across, her heart is happy, and her steps are light. The crisp wintry air is rejuvenating as she breathes in deep and long, inhaling peace and exhaling heaviness. The mysterious, divine exchange she’s been waiting for over these past few months. Rest. Peace. Hope.

As the leaf-strewn path veers down and to the right, she hears the lapping waves on the bank of the lake, moved along by a brisk, bright breeze. Rhythmic and soothing, the sound comforts and calms.

Further along, sunlight filters through the pine branches, leaving lovely patches of light and shadow along her route. A reminder that light always pierces the darkness. Nothing is hidden from Him. He will always find her, even when her life-journey leads through valleys and twisty paths that seem hopelessly dim and gloomy. Those who follow Him shall not walk in darkness…1

Around a sharp twist in the path, a small outcropping of rocks hugs the edge of the water. Reeds and other water plants grow along one side, creating the perfect hiding spot for crawdads and other small lake creatures. Footprints in the squishy mud at the edge of the lake—raccoons or perhaps an opossum looking for a late-night nibble? Remnants of red, orange-y shells confirm it—the circle of life.

Sitting on the rocks, Charity soaks in the warmth of the wintry sun, inhaling that earthy lake smell that feels like home. His presence is strong here. The sights, sounds, and scents of the trees and lake are like beautiful gifts waiting for her to unwrap. How He knows her! The One who created all things hand-picked bits of joy, delight, and unexpected encounters with Himself to remind her that all is well. She is loved, and never alone.

Moving along, Charity tucks into her heart all the carefully placed blessings and treasures she encounters along the way. Reminders for when life gets messy and chaotic. The beauty of a sweet purple mountain flower that stubbornly holds on despite the cold slumber of winter. Antics of the scrub jays and squirrels dashing through blankets of pine needles, scolding each other, and making her laugh. Whiffs of old-Earth scents—timeless and eternal. Everything that speaks to Charity—safety, love, and being fully known—was intentionally scattered along her path this morning by the Father.

Back at the cabin, she relaxes on the deck in her comfy lounger, hot cocoa taking the chill from her hands. Her time with Jesus this morning was exactly what she needed—refreshed with treasured surprises and blessings to keep close to her heart.

As the sounds of the mountain lake stir, shush, and float over her, she gently drifts off to sleep in the winter sun.

1. John 8:12 NIV

Under the Same Stars

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

It’s a beautiful late summer night. The bright, cold moon shines down like a beacon; the pin prick stars glow.

Lying on the well-worn hammock strung up between two old oaks, Eric lets the quiet wrap around him. The country air blankets him as he looks up at the night sky; deep and black like velvet. Vestiges of warmth seep up through the sunbaked grass in the little meadow behind the barn. He can hear the animals shifting and snuffling as they settle in. It’s restful here and Eric needs some rest.

 He remembers the excitement he once felt looking up at the night sky, pointing out planets, and learning the constellations in the bright, winking stars. His Dad and Grandpa Bo bringing out the trusty telescope to search the sky is a cherished memory. He’s forgotten the peace he once found in the mystery of the night sky.

Life is hard right now. The struggle to make ends meet and keep the legacy of his little farm going is such a heavy weight to carry. Generations of Simpsons worked this land providing for their families and those in the little towns just down the road. He’s so afraid he will be the one to let it go under, let people down, and not be enough.

Looking up at the star strewn sky, Eric begins to pray.

“Lord, it’s been a while and I’m sorry for that. I’m out of options and I see no way out. I remember Grandpa telling me that You always make a way and always provide. Will You please make a way now? Please, Jesus. I need You.”

Pouring out his heart to the Father releases tension that’s been pent up and stewing in his body and spirit. He feels softer inside; he feels seen. Safe.

A cool breeze picks up and ruffles the meadow grasses, shushing and sweet. Is that a whisper he hears?  “Way maker…”

Under the same stars, Sophie walks her faithful chocolate Lab, Pete, through the neighborhood as it quiets for the night. These late-night walks always calm and soothe her spirit. As she breathes in the fragrant night air, Pete’s nails clip along the concrete in a steady and soothing rhythm. The measured sound gives Sophie’s scattered mind something to focus on.  There are too many decisions to be made and too much piled on her shoulders! She desperately needs a respite; something to settle and silence the clamor.

What if she makes the wrong choice? What if they reject her? What if she ruins everything and they laugh behind her back?

If she can just sort out it out, prioritize, be decisive, be enough…

Around the corner and down Vista View Lane is a small neighborhood park with a little pond. This pond is her happy place. Tucked in and cozy, there’s a gravel path leading around the pond, winding through the willows and aspens. The wooden bench sits nestled under the drooping willow branches.

As she and Pete stop to sit for a few minutes, Sophie notices the cold, white moonlight tracing a path across the dark pond. Its edges are smudged and feathery, but the light is sure, steady, and bright. A clear path. A lamp for her feet.

It’s lovely and so peaceful.

As Sophie gazes up at the inky, star-filled sky, she gently runs her hands over the silky fur on Pete’s soft neck and back. The soothing moonlight and shimmery constellations make her feel safe. For how many thousands of years have other humans who felt lost, insignificant, and alone, looked up for guidance and direction, for peace and answers? That thought brings her comfort. She’s not alone.

Listening to the cricket song and chorus of frogs, her mind is quiet and her thoughts no longer seem so jumbled and frantic. Clarity, like moonlight, illuminates the choices she needs to make, as answers and a plan take shape.

“Thank you for seeing me, Lord. Thank you for Your wisdom. You are my shelter and my shepherd, my help in time of need,” she breathes.

As Sophie and Pete make their way around the pond heading for home, a gentle breath of air shushes in the aspens behind her; is that a whisper she hears? “Way maker…”

Under the same stars, the Spirit of the Lord hovers. Wisdom and truth, protection and healing are in His wings. Grace and mercy, love and acceptance flow from His mouth. New life and abundant joy, victory and peace swirl around Him, cascading down and over His beloved. He sees each one and answers the cry of their hearts.

Under the same stars, prayers are answered, lives are redeemed, bodies are healed, souls are refreshed, and supernatural battles are won.

He still sees and hears as He has for thousands of years, and as He will continue to do for thousands more. There is nowhere you can go that He will not find you.

Under the bright moonglow and scattered stars of any given night, each of our souls are seen, known, and deeply loved by the Lord of Heaven.

Psalm 116:1-2 NLT “I love the Lord because he hears my voice and my prayer for mercy. Because he bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath!”

Photo credit: Andrei Nigrin

The Candle

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Photo credit: Tijana Drndarski

Olivia wakes to the sound of rain pattering against the windows and sluicing off the eaves. It’s one of her favorite sounds. Soothing, repetitive, calming.

Slowly stretching her sleepy muscles, she pulls the warm quilt up under her chin. It feels chilly in her room. The weight of the quilt feels like a comfy cocoon wrapping her up in warmth and safety.

The clock on the bedside table reads 3:33 am.

Her cats, Goose and Mr. White, raise fluffy, sleep-mussed heads from the end of her bed, wondering what is disturbing the nightly routine.

Lying quietly, listening to the autumn rain, Olivia notices the wind picking up. The bamboo wind chimes hanging on the patio cover sing out their woody song as they are buffeted by the random gusts.

No longer sleepy, she decides a nice cup of herbal tea will be just right on this stormy night.

Cats in tow, Olivia slips on the soft, worn slippers she keeps next to the bed, grabs her robe, and heads to the kitchen.

The woodstove in the corner of the family room gives off a faint, warm glow, as the embers continue to spark and snap. The kettle sings! Hot tea in hand, Olivia settles onto the comfy loveseat next to the stove and nestles in listening to Mother Nature’s autumn storm.

Sleepy cats find their soft blanket tucked into an old Amazon box near the stove. They begin bathing and jostling each other for the best spot in that old box.

As she sits with her tea and listens to the rain stinging against the windows, Olivia’s mind wanders to the difficult conversations and puzzling circumstances that have been hounding her of late. Unfair accusations, misunderstandings, and self-righteous pride have clouded and tainted a long-time friendship. The situation leaves her unsure, wounded, and lonely. Her efforts at reconciliation, having the hard conversations, and trying to understand what went wrong, leave her feeling betrayed and so very tired.

“Father, I need you to take this. It hurts and I don’t understand. Can this be fixed? Will you reveal the next steps?”, she prays.

Watching the glow of the dying fire, the tendrils and flickers of orange and blue-yellow flames dart and snicker around bits of the burned logs.

A strong gust of wind rattles the windows and the front door as the lights flicker, then go out.

Dark envelopes her cozy spot, except for the glowing embers in the woodstove.

Remembering the Redwood Forest scented candle she purchased from the new boutique downtown, Olivia fumbles around in the drawer of the table on the other side of the loveseat and finds the matches.

Lighting the candle, the new flame struggles and sputters a bit, then gets its footing. The flame strengthens and burns softly.

Its warm light is like a halo pushing back the darkness, reaching into the shadows, and exposing what is hidden – highlighting those mindsets and wounds that secrets and hidden agendas seek to keep obscure and under cover. Revelation, healing, and new life are murky and hard to see under the veil of shadows.

Sitting in the glow of the wavering light, Olivia feels the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up and goosebumps raise along her arms. She’s not alone. She’s not afraid. She feels His divine presence in the air – love, safety, and ancient wisdom flowing around her. He will see to it. He will give her revelation and wisdom. He will bring healing.

“Rest now, I am here”, He says. “All is well. I see what’s in the secret, hidden places. All will be made right. Everything hidden will be revealed.”

In the flickering candlelight and warmth from the cozy woodstove, Olivia feels her mind settle and her eyes flutter. Sleep is waiting. Peace calls to her as her breathing slows. The Holy One sings to her spirit in languages of love, healing, and ancient things. All is well…

“For everything that is hidden will eventually be brought into the open, and every secret will be brought to light.” Mark 4:22 NLT

December Moon

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

The December night is dark and deep, stillness and chill seeping into bones despite a layering of coat, scarf, hat, gloves, and thick-soled boots.

Footfall is muffled and shushed along the pine-strewn path, boots stirring up the ancient scent of the woods and winter-shrouded earth.

The hush of the forest has a particular sound—not truly silent to the careful observer but full of the rustle, scurry, and purpose of those living in the night. Frigid air gives their purpose a new vigor with warm dens and beds of fern, pine needles, and forest detritus waiting to give shelter.

Deep, full inhalations fill lungs to the brim with invigorating, life-giving air. Oddly, the heavy chill, though it burns and startles, offers peace and affirmation of knowing one is alive and well. Sometimes it takes the cloak of a dark, wintry, forest-y night to bring clarity to the chaos and exposure of living in the light.

Rounding the curve in the path, the stillness of the pond with the shimmery moon-glow trail on the dark water is breathtaking. A path of light and love painted on the water by the brush strokes of One who loves to bring awe, redemption, and delight. Loved. Seen. Safe.

The sound of stealthy prowling comes from the edge of the pond as a night hunter shifts and waits for dinner. Circle of life.

Moving along as the chill ever deepens, the hooting of an owl adds to the frosty night noises—haunting and lovely, it is primitive and wild.

The path around the pond circles back on itself, and my boots head back to the cabin. Thoughts of the cheerful fire in the firepit on the deck and the warm sherpa blanket urge me onward at a brisker pace.

Wrapped in the cozy blanket, Irish coffee in the large Christmas mug warms my cold hands, steam rising merrily as the fire mesmerizes me.

A scrabbling, crunchy noise interrupts my reveries as a creature moves about to the left of the deck, digging through pine needles and foliage for a midnight snack. Curious glowing eyes spy on me. The shadowy outline of a fat raccoon in the faint reach of the firelight watches me until her curiosity wanes, and she moves along.

Leaning back in the deck chair, the stars appear strewn about like so much glitter landing at random points. But nothing is truly random. The night sky is beautifully planned and decorated with patterns and puzzles of light created to lead the ancient traveler.

Frosty breath wafts up as if making its way to the austere moon that guides, watches, and travels the night sky. Fascinating to imagine all the eyes that have looked up in the night for navigation and a sense of constancy in a world that doesn’t always seem that way. A balm to lonely souls, the shining beacon of light makes things feel safer and less chaotic.

The shepherds on that holy and silent night looked up into the same chilled, star-filled sky that I see on my deck as the fire glows and snickers to itself. The same moon watched on as the Holy One became man, as angelic hosts filled the still and starry night with the most awe-inspiring, stunning display of power and love that humankind has ever known.

It is not by happenstance that eyes are drawn upward—seeking wisdom, direction, meaning, safety, love, and blessed peace.

From a cold and silent winter night, filled with moonlight and stars, came the Light of the world. A Divine exchange between Creator and creation. Ultimate gift. Unconditional love. Emmanuel.

Warm bed beckons, and I head inside, mind full of awe as I struggle to comprehend the enormity of the gift humanity was given on that night so long ago.

The old wood stove burns quiet, drowsy warmth. I curl up under quilts and comforters as the light of the moon gently glows through the snug window. Thoughts of angels, joy, and eternity soothe and calm into a restful sleep—a silent and holy night where all is calm and bright under a December moon.

From Divine Appointments…

Photo credit: Martin Mariani

A High Rock

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Wrapped up in her crimson scarf, dark green beanie and brown combat boots, Jasmine makes her way to the dirt road that winds past her home. Tendrils of black hair wisp and flutter around her cheeks and forehead as she walks.

The air is bracing and chilly, but the hot coffee with cream warms her hands through the lidded cup.

The crunching of her boots along the dirt packed road is such a satisfying sound, purposeful with meaning and direction. The rhythmic sound is comforting and familiar and she’s been craving that feeling.

This year has been one of many changes – some welcome and some not, some expected and some blindsiding. The feeling of having no control over her life and the lives of her loved ones weighs so heavily on her raw and tender heart. There seems to be no balance to any of it and she cannot fix, re-route and smooth it over. The helplessness of it all piles up and up and leaves her feeling overwhelmed and so very tired. With every step she visualizes pounding the troubles deep into the dusty country road, imagining the puffs of dirt and tiny pebbles left in her wake floating away on the breeze and disappearing, but they don’t. The troubles just settle onto a different spot in her journey.

As she makes her way along the road Jasmine feels the peace and tranquility of the countryside begin to work its magic. Her tight shoulders and neck release, just a bit, her mind focusing on what’s around her. Birds chatter in the copse of trees just up ahead, down and around the slight bend in the road. There is a bit of marshy land to the right filled with tiny bugs and tasty treats for the morning hunters. It’s a joyful and happy noise these birds and creatures make as they faithfully trust in the Creator to supply their needs. All they need to do is watch, listen and seek out what He has given.

Passing under the branches of the old, gnarled oaks, Jasmine feels the slight change in temperature as the morning sun is temporarily blocked and chill air brushes her exposed neck and face. This is how her heart has been feeling – as if a shadow has fallen over her spirit drowning out the light and warmth, leaving her chilled, shivery and exposed. In this shadowy place she’s lost her perspective. Everything seems obscure and vague with too many unknowns. It isn’t fixable and the way is so hard to see.

On the other side of the oak trees a small trail branches to the right from the main dirt road. As she passes under the trees she feels, almost hears, in the tufted and swaying grasses, an audible sigh beckoning her to veer off and take the path. “Why not?” she whispers.

Curiosity mounting, Jasmine makes her way along the trail. She has traversed this old country lane many times and doesn’t remember this obscure path that’s barely visible through the wildflowers and grasses.  Up ahead it curves off to the left around a cluster of small trees. Once past the trees the path drops down snaking off through the countryside. At the point where the path begins its descent, she sees a cluster of large rocks to the right jutting out like a shelf. There are fragrant flowering bushes around the rock cluster that give it a tucked in feeling. Safe and protected. Fascinated, Jasmine climbs up and sits on the rock shelf. She lets herself breathe in the cool air and feel the warmth of the late autumn sun penetrate her exposed skin. Warmth and protection begin working their way into that shadowy, frozen place in her heart.  It’s such a lovely, cozy, feeling of safety. She hasn’t realized just how frantic and overwhelmed she’s been and how she has missed feeling safe and peaceful.  

Looking at the rock she’s sitting on, she notices bits of dried leaves and finished flower petals from the nearby bushes. They spin and shimmy along in the breeze like random spinners, until they float off the edge of the rock shelf following the breeze on the journey laid out for them. The freedom in these floating petals makes her smile. Oh, to feel so light, so free, so joyful…

The breeze picks up, dancing and whispering through the wildflowers around her rock. She feels a gentle peace descend on her shoulders and thread through her hair. Tears of release that she has so fiercely guarded and held at bay, freely fall and flow down her face, splashing the rock like drops from her heart. Each tear holds the name of one she holds dear, of one she loves and desperately wants to protect, wrap up tight and keep from all harm and violence. But she’s tired, her heart can’t contain all the striving, soldiering on and fixing…it’s beyond what she can do. It rips and pulls at her spirit.

As the cleansing flood of tears subside, Jasmine notices that in the warm, life-giving light of the sun, her tears soak up and evaporate. A hush falls around the rock and a Voice she recognizes speaks into her soul. “I have them now. Their names are engraved on the palms of My hands, as is yours. Their burdens are not yours to carry. I have them and they are safe. I gathered up your tears in a bottle where My breath and My will have transformed them into droplets of peace, joy and beauty. You are safe and hidden in My sanctuary. I have placed you upon a high rock where you will find rest for your world-weary soul. I am a shield about you, you are never alone.”

Her parched spirit soaks up these whispered words and softens. Her troubled, fearful, frantic thoughts slow and dissolve; blown away by the flighty breeze tousling her hair. As she sits on this high rock, safe and tucked away, her heart and soul open up and she has room to breathe. In the place where fear, anxiety and a desperate need to control once dwelled, now courage, bravery and deep joy begin blossoming. Her captured tears have been transformed into fragrant, life-giving water that cleanses and renews all that was lost and broken. She will find beauty again. She is confident of this.

As the autumn sun makes it lazy descent, Jasmine is ready to head back. She isn’t the same person who started out this morning. Her feet feel light and confident as she follows the path back to the main road. The warmth of the setting sun on her back feels so safe, like the protective hand of a Father who is ever vigilant and watchful, who has all things under His control. She really can rest now. “…My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”1

  1. Exodus 33:14