Jerry bounced down the stairs from his flat. With a spring in his step and spring in the air, he walked along the colorful and quaint brick row houses with their garden terraced rooftops. His flat overlooked the street, above the main floor where the owner lived, a long gray-haired, widowed woman in her seventies with a long gray-haired, pesky French poodle. Their similar hairdo was a sharp contrast to their personalities—she, a sweet old lady, the poodle, a bitch with her high-pitched, incessant yap. His neighborhood next to campus was called Old Towne due to its 19th century charm, a town built on the vast plains of Kansas that had all that he needed within walking distance—a custom-cut meat market with an exquisite selection of wines, a drug store, laundromat, post office, and of course, the coffee shop
He thought of Christina and their rendezvous yesterday at the lake, the peace he felt as she stroked his hair. She accepts me. She appreciates me. Looking down the street, he watched her dance down the stairs from the church in which he first noticed her. She flowed so gracefully, joy bounded with each step.
They reached the door of the college hangout at the same time. There was something about her luminous face that set her apart from anyone he had ever met—a glow of glee it seemed. Not that he had ever met a happy person—she was different. It was not a behavior—it was her presence. She politely waited for him to open the door, and as he did, he noticed her blush. She was as refined as her dance, a precision that seemed as natural as the rising of the sun.
“Good morning,” he offered as he held the door.
“It’s afternoon,” she said with a giggle. “I was on stage dancing my routine at seven, then to church for band practice. I’m famished.”
“Better for you than for me. I had another frustrating night making paper balls . . . Still can’t get beyond the writer’s block.”
“Oh, it’ll come . . . ” she said as she entered the coffee shop. She turned to let him lead the way to a vacant table. “With patience,” she added with a smile.
“How about over there towards the back.” He pointed out two overstuffed chairs with a low table. “Looks comfortable and we can lounge a bit after lunch and talk.”
“Perfect,” she said, following.
Jerry plopped in one of the chairs and watched Christina sit with poise and grace. “So, what’s your pleasure for a drink?” he asked.
“I would like a Chai, no-fat Latte, unsweetened, please.”
“And for lunch? They have an awesome Rueben with their homemade dressing, and the triple chocolate fudge brownies are a deadly sin if you’re counting calories. From the sound of your high-energy day, you’ll probably burn them off in no time.”
“Hmmm, the grilled chicken and spring garden greens with cranberries and almonds sound delicious.”
“Wow, I need some of your habits. You seem to take good care of yourself.”
“Well, I will be a nurse soon, and when I worked at the nursing home, I saw the long-term effects of many unhealthy habits.”
“Nursing. Hmmm. I figured you were here to work on an arts degree in dancing. That’s a twist. You must have a love for science.”
“Not at all, but I love caring for people. I find it fascinating how God made us so complex, so integrated, the mind, body, and spirit working together as one.”
“Hmm, that seems to be where I have a disconnect—mind and spirit.”
“What are you feeling when you try to write?”
“Confusion and frustration.”
“It’s about choices, Jerry.” She scanned the room still in vogue from the turn of the century with its walls lined with antique books, seemingly collecting her thoughts after the previous day’s intense conversation. He noticed the graceful curves that profiled her face as he hung onto her words.
“Choices?”
“Yeah, all of us have choices, even from the very beginning. Ever wonder how an apple could get someone in so much trouble?”
“Hehe. That’s a story I know, maybe the only one. Yeah, she sure blew it.”
“So did he.”
“She took the first bite,” Jerry challenged.
Christina’s eyes flickered. “The Boss told him the rules. He had dominion over all that God created. She was his helpmate.”
“Oh, so the fall of the human race was his fault.”
“With authority comes responsibility, and with responsibility, choices affect more than one’s self. Adam had a choice to lead or to follow. Which did he choose?”
“Hmm.” He considered her point. “Yeah, I see what you mean. Adam stood by her side as the serpent twisted God’s words to lay out his trap for her . . . I mean for them.”
“That’s right. They were in the garden together. God put Adam in the Garden of Eden and then made woman from him. What affected one, affected the other.”
They looked into each other’s eyes, and he tried to comprehend where this discussion was going and why.
Christina broke the silence. “So if I was in the woods with you and a serpent slithered down a branch and talked to me, what would you do?”
He laughed at the picture it created in his mind. “I’d, well I’d— ”
“I hope you wouldn’t let it convince me to do something that God commanded us not to do.”
They laughed and then peered again into each other’s eyes.
She sees what I’m blind to. She understands what I don’t comprehend. She seems so sure of herself as she dives into the waters of my life that churn with confusion. Wow, I ought to write that down. She inspires me with poetry, but I can’t find the words to write about me.
“What are you thinking about?” she said with an inquisitive look. Her kaleidoscope eyes magnetized his gaze.
“You.”
“Uh, huh. That’s what Adam was thinking about—Eve—pleasing her rather than pleasing God.”
He leaned back and looked at the ornate, tin ceiling. Maybe that’s what makes her different. She pleases God rather than herself. But she’s so happy—
“We were born with choice, and I’m certainly glad for that. God created us to have choice from the very beginning. Close your eyes and imagine this. You wake up to find yourself in a place that has everything you need. You don’t even have wants because all you know is what you have. Everything is there at your fingertips. Crystal clear water cascading down a stream, fruit hanging from every tree, colors brilliant, a palette of every shade anywhere you look. Wildlife abounds, yet in such peace. But all of this is just a backdrop. There in front of you is Beauty of your own flesh, and that . . . you noticed.”
His eyes opened to more than her beauty. What Adam felt, a kinship made from the same flesh—
“All that you know is good.” She leaned back to relax. The waitress approached with their drinks. She slowly took the cup to her lips as she watched his eyes gaze on the image she created.
I love her. Is that what I’m feeling? Then I’ve never felt love before.
He adored her. Not only could she dance, but she also had a mind that made his dizzy with introspection.
I’m drawn to her spirit more than her beauty.
She looked out into the coffee shop. Her unfocused eyes seemed to trace the vision dancing in her head.
“Adam and Eve knew who created them. They talked with God every day.” She leaned forward and rested her forearms to drive home her point. “They had the choice to do or not to do. True love always requires choice. God wanted Adam and Eve to choose to love Him.”
“To have a choice,” he said, “when faced with something that we are commanded not to do, that opportunity to choose to make the right decision prevails when we love and obey.”
“You’ve got the picture, Jerry. Adam and Eve were not puppets in God’s playground.” She leaned back and recited, “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.” They both chuckled. “It’s no different than a guy seeing another beautiful woman, his eyes falling for her instead of the beauty standing next to him. We all have a choice. God wanted Adam and Eve to choose to love and trust Him. Life was good.”
“So why was Eve . . . I mean Adam and Eve . . . tempted? Life was good.”
“That’s right Jerry. That’s all they knew . . . goodness . . . but they wanted more. They wanted to know what they didn’t know. They wanted to know good and whatever God didn’t want them to have. It’s in our nature. They could have trusted God who created them. Trusting that they did have all they needed. But they wanted more, and He gave them that choice, to allow them to want more. All was good, but what they didn’t have was knowledge of evil.”
“Ahhh, I get it. The serpent represented evil, yet Adam and Eve didn’t know this yet. What they did know was that they were not to eat the fruit from the tree that offered knowledge of good and evil.”
“So you know this story?” she asked, perplexed that he understood the turning point in life at the beginning.
“Yeah, but not from your perspective. My parents were staunch churchgoers and made me go to Sunday school.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Religion can sure twist and turn and make complicated the simple truths. The point is Adam and Eve had everything, including the best and loving relationship they could have with Father God and with each other without the influence of evil. They doubted this when they were tempted by the serpent, and instead of choosing to believe God who created them and everything else, they chose what they should not have, the knowledge of evil. Like a son or daughter that don’t understand that dad or mom want the best for them and choose to rebel and go off their own way.”
Ugh. It was like a stiff finger tapping him on the chest. He saw himself walking away from his dad, vowing never to return to the ranch. She saw the change in his composure.
“Cha-ching. Perfect love.” Christina scored her point.
“So . . . ” Jerry sighed. “Adam and Eve got a taste of evil from their bite of that apple.”
“And that’s where we are today,” Christina concluded, “choosing between what tastes good or feels good with that which we know is good.”
“Wow, that’s deep.”
“Not really.” She shrugged her shoulders and said with a welcoming smile, “When your spirit is open to God’s spirit, you’re able to receive the blessing He wants to give you. Like your father picks out a gift for you, but waits until you’re ready to use it the way he intended.”
Jerry’s mind flashed to the family farm, the scene of his first ride on his dad’s horse. The steed was tall and muscular. Its flanks quivered, as it stood tethered for him to mount. He saw how small he was to the magnificent stallion, and how once his dad raised him to the saddle, he appeared so grand, like a prince overlooking the kingdom that would be his, the inheritance from his father, the king.
“Yeah, I can relate.” He slightly nodded as he came out of his momentary trance. “I was only five, just a kid saddled on my dad’s horse for the very first time. I excitedly asked, ‘When can I have my own horsey, dad?’ He nodded and smiled at the memory. “Dad said, ‘In due time son, in due time.’ As a kid, I didn’t know what that meant, but like any child, if it had to do with time, it meant tomorrow.” They laughed together at his impatience.
“You got it,” she said. “When you’re open and ready for God to give what He has in store for you, He’ll pour Himself into you.”
“Pour what?”
“The blessing of knowing His spirit, His heart, His thoughts . . . ” She watched his eyes for understanding. “His purpose for you.” She sat back and let the words sink in. He pondered with his chin on his hand like the great thinker. His eyes moved to the vacant table next to them. He blinked several times, and his eyes focused as if he was watching something. He sat back in his chair, his eyes transfixed on the vacant table. Christina glanced from him to the table and then back to him. Whatever he saw affected him with amazement.
“Author?” he announced. He remained trancelike focused on the table. Christina smiled.
He looked to her with the premonition etched in his mind. “The Voice just said, Author, and a man was sitting at that table.” Jerry pointed, perplexed. “He was writing with his back to me.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“What are you feeling, right now?”
“The impression I get is that man was me.”
Christina leaned forward and placed her hand on his forearm. “God gave you a word to define that vision.”
“Author?”
“Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart,” she matter-of-factly stated as she moved her hand down to the top of his.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“When you are open and ready to receive God’s words as your words, your purpose will become apparent. You’re trying to write your purpose, but the newness born in you blocks your old perception of it. You had a near-death, life changing experience. That created a massive shift in you, one in which you couldn’t realize in that moment. It would have been way too overwhelming, and you probably would have rejected it, out of fear that you would become entirely different from the person that you’ve been in the past.
Receive Me as your First Love, the Voice revealed, and you will be a new creation, a new man.
“God said that I would be a new creation, a new man.” Jerry reflected on the Voice that resonated in his spirit. “But God gave me a choice to receive that newness.”
“And? Go on. What was the choice?”
“Receive Him as my first love.”
“Bingo! You’ve connected the dots. Your game card in life is to receive Christ as your first love. God is taking you step-by-step to be able to hear from Him. Remember when I asked you to write down every word that God spoke to you?”
“Uh huh.”
“Did you?”
“Hmm, no not yet. I was too concerned about getting this doggone paper done.”
“Well, that’s all right.” She patted his hand reassuringly. “Because when you are ready to write those words, when you write what God speaks to you, He’ll see your obedience and pour more of himself into you.”
“It’s that simple?”
“Hehe. Yes, Jerry, it is that simple, just like the story I told you about Adam and Eve and the apple. You said that it was really deep. Well, actually it’s not. But it is really deep to someone who doesn’t have ears to hear and eyes to understand what I’m saying.”
“What do you mean ‘eyes to understand’?”
“If your heart and your spirit aren’t open to receiving God’s message, you’re going to think that it is foolish, that it makes no sense. The eyes of your understanding were unveiled, just like your eyes were open to see that vision of the man at this table.” She waved her arm toward the vacant table. “You didn’t even see his face, but you heard the word, Author, and then what did God do?”
“Ahhh. He gave me this . . . this . . . understanding that the man writing was me.”
“Right. So, God in your short encounter with Him used the eyes of your understanding. He gave you a vision of a man writing. God’s Spirit within you spoke the word, Author, into your life. God opened the eyes of your spirit to understand that apparition. He made you feel that the person in that vision was you and that He was calling you to be an author of His words. He showed you in that brief moment with Him that He’s going to use all of you, your mind, body, and spirit to communicate with you . . . to relate to you . . . to guide you . . . to be . . . the Father . . . you always wanted to have.”
Jerry felt his skin tingle, first his arms as goose bumps raised, then a shiver that jolted his shoulders and traveled down his spine. Christina smiled and nodded.
“Wow. What was that?” He blinked several times and then closed his eyes taking a deep breath as warmth filled his body.
“Relish in the moment, Jerry. Feel Him in every fiber of your body. You are being completely filled with the Holy Spirit. From your head to your toes to your fingertips that will now write as a scribe for God.”
When he opened his eyes, it was as though to him the world was being unveiled for the first time, like Adam when he first opened his eyes. She sat directly in front of him, but he did not see her in physical form as before. How do you describe aura that you cannot see with physical eyes, yet you see with the eyes of your heart?
“I pray, Jerry, that your heart will be flooded with light so that you can understand the confident hope He has given to you.”
As she spoke the words, she came into focus, kaleidoscope eyes and all. He knew that their developing friendship had purpose . . . good purpose. He felt the tightness of their souls. Christina exuded a magnetism to which Jerry Meier felt strongly attracted.
“I’m going home for spring break, back to the ranch,” he announced.
“How do you feel about that?”
“A bit anxious. I don’t know what I’ll find other than Dad will have a mountain of work for me. He feels I deserted him . . . a traitor. The bank owns the ranch, and I left to pursue my dream to get rich quick. Huh, the irony of it all. I could be the one holding his mortgage. It doesn’t seem right anymore.”
“It’s all about surrender,” Christina offered. “Surrender to God and He will rescue you from any wrong turn.”
v v v
Notes:
“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.” (William Congreve)
“Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” (Psalm 37:4)
“I pray, Jerry, that your heart will be flooded with light so that you can understand the confident hope He has given to you.” (Adapted from Ephesians 1:18 NLT)
v v v
Copyright 2017 © Jeff Cambridge
Excerpt from PURSUIT, a novel by Jeff Cambridge, a writer of transformational fiction with characters that tell life-changing stories.
This is a pre-published scene.
To read the scenes sequentially, begin with
“PURSUIT: A Novel – Prologue”
Your comments are welcomed and appreciated. Simply check one of the reaction boxes below, write a comment, or email me at bycambridge@gmail.com.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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