Into the Fire

One of my absolute favorite smooth jazz musicians. Amazing talent. Another incredibly unique thing about him is his ability to make his music define the titles of his songs. It's like each one is perfectly titled. That's a gift, and he's got it. A wealth of it. 

Father, thank you for the beauty in music. Thank you for those you've gifted with that ability to reproduce it. May each one know from whom their incredible talent comes. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

The mystery of the seven stars that you saw in my right hand and of the seven golden lampstands is this: The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches.

To the church in Smyrna

"To the angel of the church in Smyrna write: 

     These are the words of him who is the First and the Last, who died and came to life again. I know your afflictions and your poverty – yet you are rich! I know the slander of those who say they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan. Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer. I tell you, the devil will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you the crown of life.

     He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. He who overcomes will not be hurt at all by the second death." 

Revelation 1:20 and Revelation 2:8-11 (NIV) 

From my novel Seeing . . . 

From the middle of Chapter One

He stared into the mirror above the sink, willing himself back to the present by focusing on his expression—clearing the evident sadness out of his eyes. It wasn’t that he wanted to forget any of it, even the grief. It’s that it was so long ago and he was just now desirous of moving on. To who knows where but somewhere else besides the gloom of sorrow’s place etched forever in his mind by the memory of his first and only too-short-lived love.

     “Lord,” he whispered as another man entered the restroom.

     A simultaneous nod and Micah exited. 

     He scanned the restaurant portion of the truck stop, noting the booth where he usually parked himself was occupied, so he sauntered over to the quieter side of the room and planted his now weary frame on the bumpy red vinyl seat. He picked up the menu from behind the condiment holder just to make sure he wouldn’t change his mind about what he planned to eat. A new breakfast special teased his hunger, and he couldn’t resist it. Before he closed the menu, a cup of black coffee was set on the table with three small cream containers. 

     “Thanks, Ros—” he started to say as he slipped the menu back in its place.

     Sexual abuse.

     “Not over here. This is my section,” the girl from outside the entrance said good-naturedly. “Rosie told me you take cream with your coffee.”

     Her eyes were a pale blue with little expression in them in spite of the smile. Always when his eyes connected with certain strangers, it happened. Nothing to foretell it. Just the information. Concise. Sometimes chilling, as this was. He looked at her nametag pinned above her left breast on the short-sleeved red and white striped uniform blouse. 

     “Bonita,” he said aloud. “Thank you.”

     Her eyes dropped slightly. “Crazy name, I know. My mom thought I was a pretty baby. She stuck me with it.”

     “It fits,” he said kindly with no flirtation.

     The girl had lived long past blushing, but she seemed to appreciate his comment, perhaps surprised there seemed to be no agenda attached to it. “Maybe once upon a time.  Not so much anymore. Now, what can I getcha?” She managed another smile.

     “The special, please. Eggs over easy. Skip the sausage. A tall glass of milk and please keep the coffee comin’.”

     “Got it. Rosie said your name’s Micah.”

     “That’s right.”

     “Is it short for Michael?”

     “No. Just Micah. Named after a biblical prophet,” he offered for explanation, more to see her reaction than for any other reason.

     “Huh. Like the guys who predict the end of the world and stuff?” she asked, no sarcasm.

     “Well, yeah, they did do that, but they also told of how and where God’s Son would come to earth and offer salvation.”

     “And that would be Jesus?” she asked with the hint of a smile.

     “That would be Him.” Micah smiled back. 

     “I’ll go place your order, Micah.”

     It wasn’t easy knowing such intimate details about strangers, but he’d learned from experience it was the way the Lord required him to pray for people. There were a few whose names he never got to know—just how to pray for them. Until the time came when the Lord let the burden pass on to someone else he supposed. 

     The coffee pouring into his cup brought him back to the present tense.

     “Sleepy?” Bonita asked.

     “Yeah, maybe a little.” He gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks,” he said as she pulled three more creams out of her pocket. 

     When he glanced up at her, coffee pot in hand, he strained to keep his face expressionless as flashes of the terror and pain on her face at a much younger age zipped through his mind. “I’m sorry,” he said without meaning to.

     “What? You’re sorry? About what?” she asked, confused.

     He scrambled for logic. “Oh, uh, you know, not very talkative. That’s all.”

     She laughed. “No problem. Sometimes there’s just nothin’ to say, you know?”

     “Yeah, you’re right.” 

     “I’ll have your order in a coupla minutes.”

     “Thanks.” 

     The place had gotten busy during his reflections. Hungry truck drivers and a few of the townsfolk who knew where to come to get a good breakfast. The food here was good.  Especially the breakfasts. Whoever their morning cooks were, they knew how to make the selections just the way you ordered them.

     He sipped on his coffee and wondered why the Lord had allowed him to see this girl’s pain so vividly. That was a new twist to these revelations, and it took him by surprise, threw him off guard.

Lord, apart from you, I can do nothing. So I thank you for every story, every word, for sustaining me through each book. You're amazing. Please continue to help me be the one you designed me to be. In the Name of Jesus.

The Eagles had so many hits, so many great songs. This is just one of them to keep with the love theme. Hope you enjoy it. 

Father, no one can give the gifts of creativity except you. Thank you for the beauty, music, and all manner of gifts and talents. May each one at some point recognize from whom these wonderful talents come. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

The mystery of the seven stars that you saw in my right hand and of the seven golden lampstands is this: The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches.

To the Church in Ephesus

"To the angel of the church in Ephesus write:

       These are the words of him who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks among the seven golden lampstands: I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked men, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary. 

       Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place. But you have this in your favor: You hate the practices of the Nicolaitans, which I also hate.

       He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God."

Revelation 1:20 and Revelation 2:1-7 (NIV)

Going back in time to The Famous One written as a fictional biography. A piece from the chapter titled "Different Endings".

     Joey got in trouble in his gym class for hiding the most popular kid’s tennis shoes. He told the teacher he hadn’t done it, but the teacher didn’t believe him because Larry Miller was the best athlete in the class, and he told the teacher he thought he saw Joey looking at his shoes while Larry was headed to the bathroom. Joey had hidden the kid’s shoes because he’d heard him bullying Trey the day before. Joey had tossed them over the fence at the far end of the playground where there was a large patch of overgrown brush and blackberry bushes that stood about three-feet high. The shoes were an expensive brand, and Joey never retrieved them or gave up their location. As far as he knew, no one ever found them, but it earned him a trip to the principal’s office.

      “So, Joey, do you have anything to say about this?” Mr. Welch asked, seated on the corner of his large desk with his hands folded.

      “I didn’t do it,” he lied.

      “Well, do you have any idea who might have?”

      “Could’ve been anyone.”

      “Why do you say that?”

      “Miller’s a jerk. There are all kinds of kids who don’t like him.”

      “I see. Any of these kids in your gym class?”

      “Sure.”

      “But you have no personal knowledge of which one might’ve hidden his shoes.”

      “That’s right.”

      “You know, Joey, those particular shoes will be quite expensive to replace,” Mr. Welch said thoughtfully.

     “So? Kind of doesn’t matter, really, you know? I mean, a guy loses his shoes, he’s got no shoes. It’d be hard for anyone to replace their shoes, don’t ya think?” Joey asked cleverly.

      Mr. Welch stared at Joey with an expression of both understanding and concern for the young man who he could see had already acquired an edge and the beginning of a cynical attitude. “Good point, Joey. Well, since no one can verify that it was you who hid the shoes for certain, you are free to go. However, just in case you did hide the shoes—and hear me out, I’m sure you would’ve done so with a motive that you felt was justified—there are always consequences to wrong actions. They just don’t always happen right away, and sometimes they do more damage to the inside of a person than to the outside. Now I’d prefer not to see you in my office again for anything of this nature. Fair enough?”

      “Yeah, okay.”

      Joey never told a soul—not even Trey—that he had done the deed until much later in his adult life. When he and Trey and Kelsey walked home from school, Trey asked him all about the meeting with Mr. Welch. Joey shrugged it off, saying it was no big deal.

      “But, Joey, everybody says you did it, and some of the kids think it’s really cool,” Trey said excitedly.

      “Well, it wasn’t me, so I guess I’m not so cool, huh?” Joey smiled briefly.

      “Joey,” Trey said confidently, “you’ll always be cool.”

      Joey looked over at Trey with a little surprise and embarrassment and then resumed looking down at the sidewalk as they approached Trey’s and Kelsey’s houses.

      “See ya in about 15 minutes,” Trey said as he crossed the small lawn to the two steps that led to his front door.

Father, only you know what's best for me. Only you give me words and inspiration. Apart from you, I can do nothing. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.