Category: short stories

Suntans, an allegory based on a dream

On By LindaIn allegories, analogies, and parables, dreamsLeave a comment

Anna entered the front door into the living room and watched as people quickly left when they saw her. She knew what it was. Seeming to grow darker every week, her glowing tan made her stand out from the pale skin the other people in this house. These people, like many others in town, avoided the sun at all cost. They treasured their ghostly appearance and looked down on her sun-darkened skin as if it made her of less value than they saw themselves. Anna didn’t like that they treated her differently than they treated each other, but accepted it. Her tan was important to her – more important than the opinions of those who didn’t understand its significance.

Spotting her new friend across the room, she waved and hurried to join her. “Hi, Tammy! How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” Tammy said. “I just got a new gardening book and am excited to try out some of its ideas.”

“Awesome,” Anna said. “Let me know if you want any help. I love gardening.”

“I sure will. Right now, though, I’m starving. Want to see what’s in the kitchen?”

“Mmm… that sounds wonderful.” Anna motioned towards the hallway. “After you.”

Tammy led Anna down the hallway and into the large, well-lit kitchen. Several people were gathered around the island counter helping themselves to chips and salsa. One man was stirring a pot on the stove, while an older lady was filling a cup with ice from the refrigerator’s ice dispenser. Two children were arguing over the last cupcake on a plate near the sink. Across the room half a dozen people sat at a large table topped with the remains of an assortment of finger foods. From the sound of their animated voices, they were in the middle of a serious debate.

As soon as Anna and Tammy stepped into the room, all conversation stopped. People either glared at the girls or stared at their plates. Some mumbled to each other. A few took sips from their cups. The man at the stove continued stirring, but the lady with the cup of ice motioned to the kids and ushered them out of the room.

Anna tried to ignore the animosity she felt being directed at her. She smiled at Tammy. “The chips and salsa look good.”

Before Tammy could respond, a woman at the island said, “Sorry, there isn’t enough left for you.”

“But the bowl is full…” Tammy said.

“I said there’s not enough.” The lady frowned at Tammy.

“But – ”

Anna interrupted her. “It’s okay, Tammy. She says there’s not enough. I have a better idea. Let’s go get some ice cream. My treat.”

Tammy frowned but agreed.

Once outside, Tammy said, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. Why do they hate us so much?”

“It’s our tans. It sets us apart, makes us different. And they don’t like that.” Anna unlocked her car doors and climbed in the driver’s seat. “By the way, your new tan is looking good.”

 “But they are all different.” Tammy continued as soon as she had settled in the passenger seat. “Different sizes, different hair color, different ages, even different clothing styles. Why don’t they accept our difference like they accept each other’s?”

Anna started the engine and back down the driveway. “I don’t know. It seems unfair that they celebrate all differences, except for one.”

Tammy crossed her arms. “I wish we could make them see how hypocritical they are.”

“That would do no good. They can’t see. Besides, we were warned that spending time in the sun would give us tans, and that the tans would not be welcomed by other people.”

“Yeah, you’re right. So, what are we supposed to do about it?” Tammy sighed as she looked out of the side window. “Just ignore it?”

Anna shot Tammy a half-smile. “You got it. It’s not easy. It’s even harder trying to be nice to them when they aren’t nice to us, but that’s what we’re told to do. How else will they see that tans are not bad? How else will they be curious enough to spend time in the sun themselves?”

“If only they would. Then they would find out what we’ve discovered. Nothing is as life-giving as the sun. I love my tan.” Tammy looked over at Anna. “Hey, what about after the ice cream, we go to the park and spend some time soaking up some more sun?”

“I would love to.” Anna smiled back. “A perfect way for two friends to spend the afternoon.”

In him was life, and the life was the light of men. John 1:4

But whoever does what is true comes into the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.” John 3:21

And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit. 2 Corinthians 3:18

“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Matthew 5:14

In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. Matthew 5:16

Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. John 15:20

Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted. 2 Timothy 3:12

“But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, Luke 6:27

For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. John 3:20

In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. 2 Corinthians 4:4

Little By Little: A Warning, Part 4 of 4 (Based on a Dream, June 25, 2021)

On By LindaIn allegories, analogies, and parables, dreamsLeave a comment

Mallory sat at the kitchen table, chin resting on her hands. Glumly she thought about her house, or what her house had become. She no longer recognized it. Over the last six months, Jag had made his mark in every room, and was beginning to hint that he needed her bedroom to house the rest of his family when they arrived.  She knew she had to make Jag and his siblings leave. But there were too many of them to physically force them out.

Mallory had gone to the police only to be told there was nothing they could do. She was the one who had invited him to move in and to make himself at home without any sort of lease. Once his mailing address had been established at her house – done when his siblings had written to him – he was in effect a tenant. And tenants had to be evicted. That required a lengthy process involving formal notices and court hearings. In the meantime, as long as he didn’t damage the property, Jag had the right to privacy and the freedom to do what he wanted, including letting family members move in. When she had complained that he had sold her personal items and kept the money, she had not been able to prove it so the police could do nothing about that either.

Sighing, Mallory got up and looked around. How did she end up where she was? Living in a house that seemed like it was no longer hers, at the mercy of strangers and helpless to change it? Regrets filled her with cold despair. So many things she should have done.

She should have made Jag sign a lease when he first moved in.

She should have limited the rooms he had access to.

She should have stopped him the first time he overstepped his boundaries.

She should have involved the law as soon as he messed with her personal property.

She should have made his sister leave instead of leaving the door open for more siblings to join them.

She should have been more assertive and less understanding.

But how was she supposed to know how far he would go? She would never have done to anyone what he had to her. Now it was too late. All she could do was accept the reality of what her home had become, and hope someday, after a long, difficult battle, to get it back.

Matthew 7:15

 “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.

Little By Little: A Warning, Part 3 of 4 (Based on a Dream, June 25, 2021)

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Mallory stood at the entrance to her living room, stunned. Her furniture was gone. All of it. From the softly padded recliner couch and elegant glass-topped coffee table to the six-foot wooden bookcase and large wall painting – everything had been replaced with cheap thrift store pieces. A long piece of driftwood stood where her grandfather clock had been. In place of her thick floral area rug lay a threadbare remnant. The walls were bare except for a curling poster of a band she had never heard of.

Anger built in her as the shock wore off. Jag! It had to be him. Who else had the lack of respect for her things as he did? Ever since he had tossed her boxes of memories into the dump a few months ago, she had been watching him closely but he had shown no signs of removing anything else. Other than giving her excuse after excuse for not moving out, and constantly forgetting to clean up behind himself, he had been a decent guest. Until today.

“Jag!”  she called down the hallway. “Jag! We need to talk!”

The door to the guest room opened and Jag stepped out, closing the door behind him. “You’re back?”

“Yes, I’m back.” Mallory motioned to the living room. “Did you do this?”

“You’re back early,” he said as he sauntered towards the kitchen. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“Come back here. We need to talk.”

Jag continued walking. “Sure, but first I need a drink.”

“No! Now.” Mallory’s voice shook with tension. She didn’t like confrontations, and she had overlooked some of his behavior to avoid them, but this was too big to ignore. “What did you do to my living room?”

“Our living room.” Jag said as he disappeared around the corner.

Our living room? Mallory stood facing the kitchen, indecisive. Should she follow him and force the discussion? Wouldn’t that send the message that he was in charge? She didn’t want that, but waiting meekly for him could also send the same message. The sound of a hallway door opening interrupted her thoughts. With heart racing, she whirled around.  If Codee was at work, and Jag was in the kitchen, who was in the hallway?

She didn’t have to wait long to find out. A head covered with dark brown curls peeked out around the corner and called out softly, “Jag?” When she caught sight of Mallory, she gasped and withdrew back into the bedroom.

A woman? Jag had a woman in his bedroom?

Seething now, Mallory started for the kitchen but was met by Jag carrying two bottles of water.

“Jag –“ she started, but he cut her off.

“Just a minute. I’ll be right back.”

Mallory watched him walk to his room, hand one bottle through the doorway, and then walk back to her, all with a smug smile on his nonchalant face.

“Yes? Is something wrong?” he asked as he continued past her into the living room. Sitting on the worn out couch, he put his feet up on the battered coffee table, leaned back, and clasped his hands behind his head. “What do you need to talk about?”

“What… where… how…” Mallory sputtered, not knowing where to start. She raised her hands in an all-encompassing gesture. “This!”

“Do you like it? It was all free.” Jag continued smiling.

“But what did you do with the furniture that was already here?” Mallory stopped. No! He couldn’t have! Not wanting to know but having to, she asked “You didn’t dump it, did you?”

“Of course not. That stuff was worth some money.”

“So where is it?”

“I sold it.”

Mouth open, Mallory stared at him. He stared back, unfazed.

Closing her eyes, she tried to control her anger. “Why?” she finally managed to squeeze through clenched teeth.

“I needed the money.”

“But it wasn’t yours to sell.” Loss filled her as she opened her eyes and looked around.

“Sure it was. I live here, too. Besides, you have so much, I figured you wouldn’t miss a few pieces.”

“You’re wrong on both accounts. You may live here, but it’s my house. MY house. You’re just a guest. And I do miss my “few pieces”. It took me years to save up to buy that furniture. And for you just to sell it while I’m out of town for a few days, how dare you?”

“Calm down. It’s just furniture. It’s not like I sold your dog. If you’re not happy, you can just buy more.”

“That’s not the point. You sold what wasn’t yours. Where’s the money? That’s not yours either.”

“I gave it to my family. Things are really hard for them right now. I figured they needed it more than we do.”

“Didn’t you think you should have at least asked first? I might have been able to loan…” Mallory stopped as a crash came from Jag’s bedroom. Pointing towards the hallway, she demanded, “Who is in your room?”

“My sister. She lost her house and I told her she could live with me.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry. I got her a separate bed.” Jag got up. “I’ll go see what happened. I told her not to try moving the TV by herself.”

Mallory sank on a nearby tattered armchair. She wished she had never invited Jag to stay with her. Even though he had had a good reason for what he had done, it didn’t justify his actions. She wanted him – and his sister – to leave. But with nowhere else to go, they would end up on the street, and she couldn’t force herself to do that. She had to find another way. Maybe his sister would be more cooperative, and then, in turn, influence him to show more respect.

Mallory got up and headed for Jag’s room. It was worth a shot.

Matthew 7:15

 “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.

Little By Little, A Warning Part 2 of 4 (Based on a Dream, June 25, 2021)

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“You can’t do that. Those were my boxes.” Mallory stood facing Jag, hands on her waist.

Jag looked up from his lunch. “It’s my room, my things,” he answered smoothly. “If you wanted them, you should have moved them last month like you said you would.”

“I’ve been busy, and there’s really nowhere else. The attic already if already filled with Codee’s things.”

“That’s not my problem.” Jag took another bite of his sandwich.

“Not your problem? Of course it’s your problem. You got rid of something that wasn’t yours. What did you do with them?”

“I took them to the dump.”

“You WHAT?” Mallory roared. Taking a deep breath, she lowered her voice and said through gritted teeth, “Get them back.”

“Can’t.” Jag stood up. “There’s been several storms since I dumped them. They’re trash now.” Leaving his plate and glass on the table, he headed for his room. “You’re better off without them, anyway. Trust me.”

Mallory stared at the forgotten plate, trying to grasp the loss of her childhood memories. Among the contents of those boxes had been photographs, cherished toys, favorite books, her grandmother’s quilt, and yearbooks dating all the way back to elementary school. None of it could be replaced.

The tickle of tears on her cheeks woke her from her nostalgia. Wiping them away, she took a deep breath. Maybe it was all for the best. She hadn’t opened those boxes in years. If they had been as important to her as she thought, wouldn’t she have done something with them by now? Jag was probably right. She was better off without the clutter. All she really needed were her memories.

Matthew 7:15

 “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.

Little By Little, A Warning Part 1 of 4 (Based on a Dream, June 25, 2021)

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“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying with you for a while?” the man asked as he shifted from foot to foot at the bottom of the steps.

“You are very welcome here. Where else are you going to go?” Mallory answered, holding open the front door. “Besides, there’s plenty of room here. Come on in.”

“Thank you.” He climbed the few steps and, tipping his head at Mallory as he passed her, took a step into the small foyer.

Mallory closed the door gently before moving around him. “While you’re here, feel free to make yourself at home. When Codee called telling me you need a place to stay for a few weeks, I was thrilled to help.” She led him into the living room. “What’s your name? Codee told me but I don’t think I heard it correctly.”

“It’s Jagjit.”

“Yup, that’s what she said. That’s an unusual name. Where –“

 “My father had a thing for odd names,” he interrupted. “Call me Jag.”

“Okay, Jag. Would you like something to eat or drink before I show you your room?”

“No, thanks. I ate at the shelter before coming here. Codee was very kind.”

“Yes, she is.” Mallory pointed through a doorway. “Your room is this way.”

As Mallory led Jag down a long hallway, she pointed to the first door on the left. “That’s the bathroom. I usually use the master bathroom so you and Codee will pretty much have this one to yourselves.” She stopped at the next door. “And this will be your room. I want to apologize ahead of time for its condition. I kind of used it for storage, but the bed is comfortable and I put fresh sheets on it this morning.”

“It sounds great.” Jag sighed. “Just being off the street is enough. I don’t need any fancy rooms.”

Mallory opened the door and motioned for Jag to enter first. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Jag’s eyes wandered around the room and he let out a soft whistle. “This is for me?”

Mallory nodded towards the side wall. “Yes. Sorry for the boxes. I tried to keep them to that one wall so you would have plenty of room to get around. As soon as I can, I’ll move them to another area although I’m not sure where yet. They contain-“

“It doesn’t matter,” Jag cut her off. “They don’t bother me. This bed is all I need.”

Mallory frowned, irritated at being interrupted again. “Well, maybe. But it bothers me. You shouldn’t have to deal with it.” She noticed he was still standing just inside the doorway. “Please, make yourself comfortable. There’s a table by the window where you can set your backpack. And there are towels in the bathroom for you to freshen up. I’ll be in the kitchen. You might not be hungry but I am. Join me whenever you’re ready. ” Mallory took one more look at the stacks of boxes, and then turned to go. But before she went through the doorway, she caught a glimpse of Jag dropping his dirty backpack on the freshly cleaned carpet as he headed for the bed.

“So much for following directions,” she mumbled.  “But maybe he’s just tired, poor guy.”

Matthew 7:15

 “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.

He’s Not Like That

On By LindaIn dreamsLeave a comment

He’s Not Like That  

Short story based on a dream  2-12-20

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“I felt bad that my faith was not stronger, but I didn’t condemn myself over it,” I assured the older lady sitting next to me. “I know God is a forgiving God, and He understands my struggles.”

“That’s good. You didn’t know God then like you know Him now.” Vanda smiled at me.

“I’ve also discovered that one reason it was so hard for me to trust God when I first started walking with Him was because I was looking at Him like I looked at my earthly father. I think it might be the same with others. How we see God the Father is affected by how we see our earthly fathers.”

“That’s great insight. You need to share your story at our next meeting. People will be encouraged by that.”

I considered it, and then agreed. God had done so many things for me; it was time for me to do something for Him.

For the next few days I pictured myself telling a room full of people how I had come to know God.  I was excited that my story would touch so many people. Maybe it would have great impact in their lives, freeing them to see God as He really is, and enabling them to receive the steadfast love He has for them.

Only it didn’t turn out that way. When the meeting started, there were only four of us. An older man and his wife, Vanda, and me. I was disappointed, but I had agreed, and so I began.

“I was raised in a devout Catholic family. That becomes important later on. We moved frequently through my early childhood. Life changed about the time I entered fifth grade, when we moved away from our large extended family. A few years later my dad lost his job, and got moody. He became increasingly critical and judgmental towards us and towards church. We went to church each week, but it was more of a ritual than anything else. To me it was just bunch of rules that was supposed to bring us close to God, to make us pleasing to Him. There was no life in that but I gave it my best shot during my early teen years, becoming very religious with lots of rosaries and masses. I felt no closer to God and church was too cold for me, so as soon as I could, I quit going.

Life was painful. Broken relationships, confusion, and a extremely poor self-concept resulted in a deep depression that grew deeper throughout my teen years. After high school graduation, when things got as bad as they could get, I gave up. I knew I could not help myself, so I asked God for help before crying myself to sleep at night. But during the days, I ran from anything to do with Him. It was like a game of tag, and He wasn’t going to let me get away. He set me up to have an encounter with Him during a movie I pretty much felt forced to watch. He changed my life, and I began to walk with Him.

He did so many small things – constantly doing things – to show me He loved me. I look back and can’t believe how much trouble I had trusting Him. I know now that it was because I was viewing Him though the lens of the various glasses I was wearing.

One was my father-lens. My dad’s inconsistent attitude towards me – acceptance one day, rejection the next – led me to believe God’s attitude would also be inconsistent. Sure, He loved me on those days when He did something for me. But what about the other days?  And what about when I disappointed Him?

I had a church-lens. The church’s focus on rules and rituals influenced how I viewed God. Things had to be done in the correct way or God wouldn’t be pleased.

And then I had the me-lens. I saw God the way I saw myself. When I was feeling happy about myself. God was happy with me, too. I was acceptable to Him. But I was not acceptable to Him on my bad days any more than I accepted myself on those days.

That was years ago. Many years of struggling to get past those lenses to see God as He really was.  And now…” I paused. I was going to say I no longer struggled. But was that true? I had to be honest. Honest with myself; and honest with these people, as few as they were.

“And now it’s the same. Only different. Deeper. I no longer question whether God loves me. But is He taking care of me when things look bad, and I can’t see Him working?  I no longer believe we have to follow a bunch of rules and rituals in order to get close to God. But am I saying the right words when fighting the enemy? I no longer believe God sees me as I see myself. But I find myself running away from Him when I’m feeling bad instead of running to Him, thinking I’m not acceptable when feeling that way. I guess I haven’t really gotten past my lenses. I just put God’s lens over mine.”  I sat down, disappointed in myself.

No one spoke for a few minutes.

“Well, don’t feel bad. We are all wearing our own lenses under God’s lens.” Vanda said. “It’s okay. God understands.”

“I know,” I responded glumly. “I just don’t like that they’re there.”

“Then get rid of them.”

Get rid of them? Easier said than done.  “How do I do that? I’ve tried for years, and yet they are still there.”

“I’ve heard if you don’t use them, they will slowly shrink away until they are gone.”

I brightened. “That’s it! I’ll just choose not to use them!”

Over the next week I had plenty of opportunities to choose. And I devised a process to help me intentionally look through God’s lens instead of mine. I couldn’t wait to get back to the group to share it.

Finally it was time.

“Remember last week when we talked about choosing which lens to look through? I figured out how to make that work for me. I hope it works for you, too.

The first thing I did was identify which lens I was looking through whenever I thought about God. Often when a doubt sneaks into my mind, it comes as a vague, uncertain feeling. It’s like trying to look through two lenses at the same time. Things get blurry. So putting that feeling into words helped clarify the thought. And that helped identify the lens. If it was a dad-lens, religious- lens, or a me-lens, I made the conscious choice replace it with a God-lens. I reminded myself He was not like that, and replaced the faulty thought with truth from the Bible.

Here are some thoughts I’ve had this week, and how I handled them.

 

“God won’t help me if the problem is my fault.”

He’s not like that.

Hebrews 4:16  Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

 

“God’s love is conditional on what I do or don’t do. If I skip my Bible reading, He will withhold His love”.

He’s not like that

2 Timothy 2:13 If we are faithless, he remains faithful – for he cannot deny himself.

 

“God criticizes me for my failures.”

He’s not like that

Romans 8:1  There is therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

 

“God makes promises, but He doesn’t always keep them.”

He’s not that

Numbers 23:19 God is not man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should change his mind. Has he said, and will he not do it? Or has he spoken, and will he not fulfill it?

 

“God doesn’t understand me.”

He’s not like that

Psalm 139:1 O LORD, you have searched me and know me!”

 

“God will get angry at me when I deliberately misbehave”.

He’s not like that

Exodus 34:6 The LORD passed before him and proclaimed, “The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.

 

“God is too busy with His own plans to get involved in the smaller things in my life.”

He’s not like that

Philippians 4:6  Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

 

“God is far away, watching from a distance to see how I handle things in my day to day life.”

He’s not like that

James 4:8a Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.

 

“God is punitive, quick to administer punishment for my mistakes.”

He’s not like that

2 Peter 3:9 The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.

 

“God is not concerned about my mental health.”

He’s not like that

3 John 1:2  Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul.

 

“God does not care about what I care about.”

He’s not like that

1 Peter 5:7 casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you

 

“God expects too much from us. We can’t do it all.”

He’s not like that

2 Corinthians 9:8  God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.

 

“God may or may not hear me when I call to Him.”

He’s not like that

Psalm 34:17  When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out of all their troubles.

 

“God can get impatient and cranky.”

He’s not like that

1 Corinthians 13: Love is patient, and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it’s not irritable or resentful.

 

“As you can see,” I told the group. “The enemy is busy planting seeds every day. But we don’t have to let them grow. God’s Word is a powerful way to combat those seeds before they can grow into a lens. The bottom line is this: God loves you better than you know. He completely accepts you as you are, delights in you, and wants only good for you. Even when you stray or give in to sin, He is quick to forgive when you ask because of His great love for You. You can’t do anything to lessen that love, or anything to increase it. Once you grasp that, doubts will no longer be a problem.”

I sat back down, leaving them to reflect on what I had just shared. And then from deep inside, I heard the Lord whisper, “Are you listening?”

It’s Not Always About You

On By LindaIn allegories, analogies, and parables, creative non fiction2 Comments

Part 1

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Moxie looked up at her owner with eyes full of questions. What’s going on here? Who is that hyperactive newcomer running all over the place? Why was he brought into her world? What is she supposed to do with him? Was she supposed to be playing with him? Showing him where the food and water bowls were? Helping him settle down somewhere? Or instead was she supposed to learn something from him?

Not getting an answer from her owner, she looked back at the intruder. He was still running from one room to another stopping to sniff different items from time to time. That wasn’t too bad. But what was bad was the ear piercing high pitched bark he would make at unexpected times in the middle of all that running. And, even worse than the barks, were the sniffs. She had accepted his initial sniffing which all dogs do to acquaint themselves with other dogs, but apparently this small runt had not been satisfied with that. Or maybe his brain was too small to remember anything because every so often he would come charging up to her to begin the sniffing ritual all over again. And Moxie had no ideas left on how to handle it. She had tried being friendly, but he didn’t seem to want a friend. She had tried ignoring him but that didn’t stop him. She had tried growling softly, warning him to leave her alone, but he didn’t seem to understand that. She had looked to her owner for intervention but, even though her owner was watching, nothing seemed to change. So Moxie did the only thing left she could do – she hid. She found a safe place far enough from the small nuisance not to be noticed, but close enough where she could keep one eye on him. She didn’t trust him and she didn’t want any surprise attacks like he had done to her friend Acey. She kept her other eye on her owner, silently asking that something be done with this crazy guy and feeling bad that she wasn’t better able to handle him.

Part 2

The tired woman looked up to her Lord with eyes full of questions. What’s going on here? Who was that homeless young man running up and down 11th Street with his dog? Why was he brought into her world? What is she supposed to do with him? Was she supposed to be providing him with transportation and money? Showing him where the food resources were? Helping him find a place to stay? Or instead was she supposed to learn something from him?

Not getting an answer from God, her thoughts went back to the restless man. He was still running from one place to another stopping to check out different people from time to time. That wasn’t too bad. But what was bad was the heart piercing rude comments he would direct at different people at unexpected times. And, more personal to her than the rude comments, were his pleas to her for help. When he had first approached her, she had accepted his initial questions which were typical of the questions all people ask to acquaint themselves with other people, but those questions had quickly turned to requests for help. She told him she would do what she could but apparently this guy had not been satisfied with that. Or maybe his brain was too messed up to remember anything because every so often he would suddenly begin pleading for help all over again. And she had no ideas left on how to handle it. She had tried being friendly, providing what help she could, but that wasn’t enough. She had tried ignoring him after directing him to other resources, but that didn’t stop him from texting her. She had tried warning him subtly to leave her alone, but he didn’t seem to understand that. She had looked to God for guidance but, even though she knew He was watching, He wasn’t saying anything. So the lady did the only thing left she could do – she hid. Since she was leaving town anyway, she made sure he knew so he wouldn’t have any reason to keep asking her for help, but she monitored a few facebook groups where she could keep one eye on him. She didn’t trust him and she didn’t want any surprise attacks like he had done to others. She kept her other eye on the Lord, silently asking Him to help the man and his dog and feeling bad that she wasn’t better able to handle the situation. Should she have done more? Should she be doing more even now?

“Not everything is about you.”

“What?”

“Have you considered that this is not about you? Think about Moxie.”

The lady thought about when she had recently agreed to dog sit a puppy for a friend. The puppy had come in with all his puppy energy, charging around the house curious about everything, stopping to chew or sniff whatever caught his attention. After his owner had left, this puppy had looked for her, stopping to bark from time to time as if calling out to her, then running around the house searching again. Moxie, one of the lady’s dogs, had kept looking from the puppy to the lady then back to the puppy again as if wondering what was going on. The lady had watched as Moxie accepted the puppy’s sniffing, at least for the first few times. She had watched as Moxie tried unsuccessfully to play with him, and then had watched as Moxie tried to ignore him. “It’s OK, Moxie,” she had said. “The puppy is not going to be here long. He just needs a place to be for a while.”

“So, was the puppy there for Moxie’s benefit?”

“No, it had nothing to do with Moxie.”

“Who was this all about, then?”

“It was about the puppy.”

“Right. It was about the puppy and his needs. Not about Moxie at all. She didn’t have to do anything. Yet her presence, especially her willingness to let the puppy sniff her, added to the puppy’s socialization. So even though you didn’t bring the puppy into Moxie’s world for her benefit, Moxie did play a small role in the puppy’s social growth.”

The lady nodded. She could understand that.

“It’s the same with you and the homeless man. It wasn’t about you. It was about him. I allowed him into your world for his benefit. Your presence, especially your willingness to help, added to what I’m working in and around him. You played a small role in what I’m doing.”

But then God smiled teasingly.

“But you know I am the Master at multitasking. And although this was for the man, I am using it for your good too. Now get some well deserved rest, my daughter, and leave the man to me.”

And so she did.

At First Glance

On By LindaIn creative non fiction3 Comments

She was surprised to find the cracked sidewalk, cracked for 6 months now. She was used to seeing the broken and dead trees, the blue tarped houses, collapsed buildings, and piles of debris. But a cracked sidewalk? How does a hurricane crack a sidewalk like this?

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She was so perplexed by those cracks that she barely noticed the small insignificant cluster of flowers growing nearby. At first glance they appeared to be nothing special.

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But as she walked closer, the colors of the flowers became brighter, catching her eye. She stopped to really look at them, stepping even closer, and was amazed at their beauty.

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Isn’t that just like God, she thought. Even in the midst of overwhelming destruction, His grace and love – His beauty – can be found. Yet often it’s hidden in what appears to be insignificant places and easily missed by those who are too busy or too hardened to look.

“Lord,” she prayed with a smile. “Wherever you lead me, let me never become too busy or too hardened to see the grace you plant along the way.”

God Loves Stupid Too

On By LindaIn allegories, analogies, and parables, creative non fiction2 Comments

She sighed and headed back to her car. Only one shark tooth in all that surf. Sure she unexpectantly got lots of conchs and olive shells she planned to paint and start hiding around town to encourage people as they slowly worked on getting their lives back together after the hurricane, but her goal every time she went to the beach was to find shark teeth. Usually she found at least three but today? One. She’d have stayed longer but the fading light of the sunset made identifying small black objects in moving water impossible.

“Well, that’s just as disappointing as this whole weekend has been,” she thought as she approached her car and began digging in her bag of shells for the smaller waterproof bag that kept her key and phone safe from splashing waves. Nothing she had done that weekend had had the result she wanted and this shortage of teeth fit right in. At least this time she wouldn’t lose the tooth like she did the last time she had gone to the beach. That time she had found six teeth, slipped them in her zippered pocket as always for safekeeping, then discovered later that the pocket had had a hole. After triple seaming that pocket, she knew the tooth in her pocket may be lonely but it wouldn’t be going anywhere.

She pulled out the key and slid it into the key hole on her car’s door. Or tried to. It wouldn’t fit. Must be upside down. She pulled it out, flipped it and tried again. Still didn’t go in. “Wait,” she thought slowly, a disturbing thought beginning to enter her weary mind. “My car key has matching sides so it doesn’t matter which way I insert it.” She looked closer at the key. Her house key! If her house key was here, then her car key would still be in the car! She must have taken the wrong one when she removed her car key from her key ring, not wanting to take the chance that the electronic key would get wet.

She stared at the key again. Now what was she going to do? The park was closing, her husband was at work about 30 minutes away. She had no spare keys hiding under her car. But, she did have her phone. And her adult son was at home. She quickly dug it out and called her son. No answer. She left a voice mail to call her back. Then she called her husband.

“I’ll try to get off work and be there as soon as I can.”

“OK,” she told him. “I’m going to walk to the front entrance where the gate is because you’re going to need the gate code to get in. Or I can just give it to you now… nooooo. The season pass with the gate code is in the car. I’ll have to walk to the front gate. Maybe there will be a ranger or someone who can give it to me.”

She hung up, put on her sandals, which just happened to be in the bag because she had uncharacteristically forgotten to leave them in the car when she had arrived hours earlier, and began walking. Fog was mixing with the growing darkness, making it even harder to see. With no street lights, she decided she might need to walk the mile to the front gate a little faster to get there before it got completely dark. Surely there would be lights at the ranger station there.

As she walked, she remembered the time she had seen an alligator on that same part of the road and wondered if there still alligators living in the swampy areas that bordered both sides of the road. She hadn’t seen one in years, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any.

Suddenly a loud grunting sound came from the swamp on her left. What was that? Gator? Her husband had once told her that gators made grunting noises. Do gators chase people? Maybe, if they were hungry enough. And maybe their food source had been impacted by the hurricane last fall as most everything else had been. Her eyes big, her chest tightening, she picked up her pace.

Another grunting sound. Then another. It seemed to be keeping up with her as she walked. Was it following her? When she heard it the next time, it seemed a bit softer, further away. Good, maybe it had given up.

Just as she began to relax, a very loud grunt came from her left making her jump. She just knew it was almost on her! Or was that a different gator? How many gators were there?

She walked even faster, wanting to get to the comparative safety of the entrance booth and hoping the grunting things didn’t see her change in speed as a challenge. The grunts kept coming and she began listening for a splash to alert her that one had left the water to come after her. No, she thought. There wouldn’t be a splash. She had seen enough TV movies to know how silent they could be when stalking. And how fast. She also knew that turning around to look always ended in disaster in those movies, but she couldn’t help it. She had to turn around. She had to know if something was crawling up behind her.

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A quick look brought relief. Nothing. But it was short lived as another grunt sounded nearby. Hurrying again, she thought God was here. God could protect her. But would He? He didn’t always intervene in natural events. And it was her fault she had locked her keys in the car. “God?” she prayed. “Will You keep me safe?” She felt no reassurance, heard no words of comfort. She wished, not for the first time, that she had more faith. She shouldn’t be worried. She should know God was in control and looking out for her. But knowing what she SHOULD be thinking didn’t help her feel better.

As she walked in the growing foggy dark, she racked her brain trying to think of someone else she could call. Someone closer. Someone who might know the gate code so her husband could get in when he got there. She DID NOT want to have to walk all the way back down that road to get her car. Then she remembered Connie! She lived just a few miles away and she camped there frequently so she must have the gate code. But a phone call and a text got no result. Giving up, she hurried on.

It was getting so dark now that she could barely see the road. The grunts seemed to have stopped and she thought they may have given up and gone after easier prey. But she didn’t slow her pace. She needed to get to the light at the entrance just in case a new gator got interested. The gate was a hundred yards from the swamp and she doubted a gator would go that far out of the water.

As she hurried, thoughts of falling entered her mind. What if she tripped over a crack or small branch or something? She could sprain her ankle and not be able to walk. Don’t hungry predators go after the injured? As if to answer her, another loud grunt filled the air. This one was so loud, and seemed so close, she forgot about being careful and began the fastest power walking she could. She knew her knees couldn’t handle running anymore. Neither could her lungs. She’d be out of breath within minutes! No, power walking was the best she could do.

Finally she saw the entrance light. As she left the swamp behind her and entered the light, she began relaxing. She had made it. At least she had made it this far. She still had to figure out how to get the bar blocking the entrance to rise so her husband’s car could get in when he got there. Waving at the infrared sensor didn’t work. She could partially lift it manually. That would have to do, she thought. Maybe when he got there she could force it just high enough to let his small car get through and hope she didn’t break it.

She walked around to the front of the entrance booth and was even more relieved to find two rangers still there. The park had been closed since dusk so they should have been long gone. She quickly went to the side window and knocked. Would they answer her or ignore her since it was after hours?

The second time she knocked got their attention. They told her they were just closing up but when she told them what had happened they were kind enough to take the time to write down the gate code for her. Good. She wouldn’t have to chance breaking the automatic gate bar. She also mentioned the grunts she had heard and asked if they were gators.

“No, probably not,” they answered. “They were probably deer.”

“Deer?” she questioned. “Deer make noises?”

“Yes. Just a minute,” the lady ranger at the window said as she opened her phone and tapped a few times. “Here, listen to this.”

A video of some deer came up along with a high pitched noise. “That’s a baby deer,” the ranger told her.

A slightly deeper sound came from the phone. It sounded a lot like what she had always thought were birds calls. “Nope, that’s an adult female deer.”

Then she heard the grunting. The same grunting that had chased her for almost a mile. “That’s an adult male looking for a mate.”

“Really? I had no idea deer even made sounds,” she told the ranger, feeling a little relieved that she hadn’t actually be stalked by gators. But not much, since deer can be dangerous too and deer were all around her at this park, even here at the gate.

She watched the rangers lock the booth door and drive away. She was alone. But at least she was in the light. She sat down and watched as mosquitoes began landing on her. She hoped none of them carried any of the diseases the city had warned everyone about earlier that morning. She wished she knew someone who was nearby besides Connie, who had not returned her call. She would feel better if she had company, and even better if she could wait in a car and not get eaten by mosquitoes. Then she remembered a small group of her friends who stayed busy delivering donations throughout the county. Maybe one of them was nearby. She texted them and got immediate responses. They couldn’t come but would find someone who could. Texting helped her not feel so alone and she was grateful they were so readily available but where was her husband? Was he able to get off work? Was he on his way?

And then he was there! She wasted no time punching in the code to lift the gate, getting in the car, and, settling back in the seat, finally breathing a sigh of relief. As they drove the mile back to her car, she told him about the noises and how spooky everything was. He was just as surprised to learn deer made such loud sounds and reassured her that he had prayed for her all his way there because he knew how spooky it would be for her.

Later, from the safety of her home, she contemplated her experience. She had prayed that God would keep her safe. And she had been safe. But would she have been safe even if she had not prayed? Probably. So where was God? He did not keep her from locking her key in her car. He had not flooded her with peace. He had not spoken reassuring words to her.

But He did…

… arrange for her sandals to be in her bag so she didn’t have to walk the mile barefooted.

… keep the rangers there long enough to give her the gate code

… prompt one ranger to take the time to share a video explaining the grunts

… show her the loyal support of her friends as they texted online

… gave her husband a job where family came first so he could easily get off to come rescue her

… keep her bladder quiet so she had no need to use a bathroom while she waited

“So,” she thought gratefully. “God was there all along.”

And then another thought hit her. “Oh no! How could I be so stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”

When she had pulled her car key from her key ring that afternoon, she had taken her house key with her on the beach, locking her car key in the car. But it never dawned on her until just this moment that attached to her house key was the electronic key for her car! She had had a key to her car all along!

She didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or laugh! That was probably one of the stupidest things she had ever done. But God still loved her and was there for her anyway.

What would her husband say when she told him? Would he be upset having to take off work? For the needless trip? Maybe it’d be best not to tell him. No. She knew she had to tell him.

“Um, you know how I locked the car key in my car and took my house key with me down to the beach?” she began.

“Yes,” he answered.

“So… attached to that house key was my electronic key…”

“So you had a key all the time?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” she admitted, waiting for his reaction.

And then he laughed. “That’s funny!” he said.

“But I feel so stupid.”

“It was just a mistake. I bet God is laughing too!” he said.

Tears filled her eyes as she received his warm supportive words. “He’s not mad. He doesn’t think I’m stupid. Maybe God doesn’t think I’m stupid either. Maybe He let it happen because of everything He knew He could teach me through it.”

“Yes, My daughter. You don’t always have to feel Me or hear Me to know I am with you. It’s a fact, not a feeling. I let you go through this because you needed to be reminded. Walking through the foggy darkness, thinking something is out to get you, is a lot like how you feel navigating insurance and contractors. No matter how stupid you feel about some of the things you decide, I work all things for your good. I could have just told you, and I’ve tried, but an experience like this shows you in a much more powerful, unforgettable way. And remember, just as you had the key all along, you have Me whether you realize it at the time or not.”

And she could feel His delighted laughter rising in her heart, filling her anew with His amazing love.

You Call That Help? (from a dream – totally symbolic)

On By LindaIn allegories, analogies, and parables, short stories9 Comments

Was it a cavity? Did she need to have a tooth pulled? Braces? She didn’t know. She just knew there was something wrong with her teeth. They didn’t hurt, but she could feel something was off.

She had tried everything she could. Brushing, flossing, rinsing – nothing seemed to help. So she decided to take the next step and scheduled an appointment with Dr. Worldlee. Dr. W was considered the best around for his expertise and patient care. Surely he would be able to fix the problem.

The next week she was nervously sitting in the chair, white napkin clipped around her neck, waiting for Dr. W to arrive. A glance around the room revealed an assortment of posters advertising treatments for different tooth problems. She had had to bring her baby when the babysitter cancelled at the last minute and could hear him through the open doorway, babbling with the receptionist.

“Good morning!” Dr. W said cheerfully as he walked through that doorway. “How are you today?”

“I’ll be a lot better,” she smiled. “as soon as this is over.”

“Relax. It’s going to be OK. You’re in good hands,” he said as he glanced at the x-ray on the computer monitor. “Hmmm….”

“Hmmm?” she asked, her eyes getting big. Hmmm’s are never good.

“Oh, not to worry. It seems your x-ray shows something is off, but not in enough detail enough to show me what it is. But I know what will give me that information.” He opened a cabinet door and pulled out a dark jar. The label was too small for her to read so she watched carefully as he opened it. He reached inside and wiggled his hand a little. When he pulled his hand back out, there were several brown bug-looking things crawling on it. He plucked one off, then shook the rest of them back into the jar, replace the cover, and returned the jar to the cabinet. With the bug still grasped with his fingers, he approached her.

“Open up,” he said. “This will give me more information.”0226190724 (2)

Clamping her mouth shut, she shook her head. She had heard of this “treatment”. After swallowing it, that little bug would burrow itself inside her in order to provide more information which would be displayed on the dentist’s computer. But she had also heard that that wasn’t the only information the bug provided, and that once a bug was inside a person, it frequently led to more complications which sometimes became life threatening.

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t bite,” he reassured her. “You probably won’t even feel it.”

She shook her head again. “No, thanks.”

“You really need to,” he said, a bit more seriously. “Everyone does, sooner or later.”

“Not me.”

She tried to get out of the chair, but the dentist pushed her back down as he motioned to someone outside the room. She knew he was recruiting help. One way or another, by cajoling or by force, she knew he was going to get that bug in her mouth if she stayed in that chair. But how could she escape?

“Wait!” she cried out, keeping her teeth clenched together. “I’ll do it. “But.. But…” She tried desperately to come up with a logical reason to leave the room. “But I need to go get some water first.” She motioned to the water fountain behind a large lady making her way towards them.

“You don’t need water. This will just glide down your throat.”

“Yes I do. I have a very strong gag reflex. I have to have water to swallow anything or else I will just throw it back up. It will just take a minute.”

“I’ll get you some water from this sink.”

“No! I mean no, I need the water to be cold. Like the fountain water in the waiting room.”

He looked suspiciously at her but agreed to let her get up. She walked to the fountain, pulled out a cup, and began filling it. As she did, she glanced at the front desk to check on her baby and gasped. He wasn’t there! Where was he? What did they do with him? Then she heard his cry. It was coming from the little room she had just exited. She threw the cup down and ran back into the little room in time to see the dentist attempting to put something in her son’s mouth. She knocked it from his hand, grabbed her son from the receptionist’s arms, and ran from the room. She made it all the way to the front door sighing with relief as she reached out to push the door open. But before it opened, the large lady grabbed her and began pulling her back towards the little room.

“It’s OK,” Dr. W said as he walked up. “We can do it here.”

She shook her head, keeping her mouth tightly closed, knowing if she didn’t, he would take advantage of any opening he saw. She looked around for help from the other people in the room, but they were pretty much ignoring her. Those that watched seemed more interested in watching the drama than in helping her.

All of a sudden, her baby let out a scream. Startled, she turned her head just in time to see the large lady’s hand move away from the baby’s arm and the dentist slip a bug in his mouth. She quickly stuck her finger in the baby’s mouth, pried the bug out, slung it to the floor, and stomped on it. Picking up her foot, she saw the bug still moving so she picked up a nearby statue – a really heavy one – and smashed it down on the bug. Then she raced for the door, got it open, and escaped into the fresh air outside.

The last thing she heard before the door closed behind her was, “That won’t hurt it. You can’t get rid of it that way.”

She ran to her car and tried to unlock the door but the baby was struggling to get down and she dropped the keys.

“I’m sorry. Let me help.”

She jumped. It was Dr W! He had followed her outside. She tried to back away but he apologized again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just trying to help. Here, let me hold your son so you can get the keys and unlock the door.”

He wasn’t holding anything and sounded so sincere that she agreed and handed her baby to him. She bent down to retrieve her keys, inserted one into the lock, and turned it. As she heard the click of the door unlocking, she turned back to the dentist and her son just in time to see Dr. W hold a syringe full of a brownish liquid above the baby’s eyes. As quickly as she could, she knocked the syringe from his hands, but not before he was able to hit the plunger. The baby wailed as the brownish liquid filled his eyes.

She grabbed him from the dentist and ran back inside to the water fountain and began filling and emptying cups of water into the baby’s eyes. After a few minutes, the baby calmed and she stopped splashing to look at it. His eyes were red and swollen.

She walked back outside where the dentist was still standing near her car. She yelled, “Now I’m going to sue you! Just wait until you hear from my Lawyer!”

He answered softly, “I don’t understand your resistance. I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, right,” she said angrily. “You call that help? Your kind of help just makes everything worse. I’m going to the One who can really help. A real Healer.”

After securing her son in his car seat, she got into the driver’s seat and turned on the car engine. She had to get to the Doctor as soon as possible. No telling what damage had been done to her son’s eyes. But she knew if she got there soon enough, the Doctor would know how to heal it.

This Doctor knew how to heal anything. And no need to make an appointment. He was always available.

She smiled. Yes, the Doctor would know what to do. If only she had gone to Him first. So much distress could have been avoided. Well, next time, she vowed, she would.