SS - Three Gifts

from "We Three Kings" - Michael W. Smith

Three campers sat beside a dwindling beach fire. Above them, stars spun. Beside them, ocean waves roiled and spit foam. The sand beneath them was cold but powdery soft.

“They will come soon,” said the bearded one. He ran a grimy hand through his hair and leaned back into the heavy bundle behind him.

“You’ve said that every night for fourteen nights, Japhus.” The smallest one traced characters in the sand - HOPE more than any other. Starlight and firelight flickered in her bright eyes.

“And every night it is more true, not less.”

The third one did not speak but drew the bow across her violin twice slowly.

“I’m ready for them to come now,” whispered the bright-eyed one. Grains of sand ran through her fingers. She shook them off. From beneath her short cloak, she took a pulsing whorl of colours.
For a moment all three were blinded before the maelstrom subsided to match the glow of the embers and stars.

“My heart,” she said, “undivided for the true King and Queen, forever may they reign.”

The violin sang Glory.

“Beautiful,” said Japhus. He shook his head, “ah, but you are stronger than me, little Taes.”

Taes smiled. A sparkling ray of light shimmered from the orb to dance over Japhus’s head before vanishing. “Thank you.” She tucked her precious gift in the hollow of her lap.

Vyz the violinist set down her regular bow and picked up a different one. The music she began to play now reverberated through the two who listened. Melancholy yet joyful, it plunged through several different tempos and themes. Vyz danced as she played, sand flying up from her feet to land like glitter on the arms and faces of Japhus and Taes. The music wrapped around them like invisible gossamer, present but untouchable. A whisper of chiffon. An impression of lace.

Around Vyz the music became visible as well as tangible. It took the form of a veil, black as the night on first glance but composed of every colour imaginable when one focused in on individual threads. It wound around her but didn’t inhibit her movement at all, a dancing veil that moved in perfect synchrony with her.

Dizzy, Taes covered her eyes but the music filled her soul and the brilliant image remained clear in her eyes.

Japhus opened his mouth to speak but no words came. He watched the music, mouth agape, wanting to laugh and cry but unable to break the wonder that held him enchanted.

At last, Vyz came to an end. The final chord spiralled over the sea and fell into the spray. The veil dropped against her skin and was still. This was Vyz’s gift: her very soul.

Silence suffused the three who waited until Japhus spoke, “the last is the least but I hope my King and Queen will not be disappointed.” From the side of his pack, he unstrapped a fine leather sheath narrow but long. “Since I was a boy I have tempered this metal. I have laid it in the fire of doubt and worked it with the hammer of logic.” He withdrew the sword until a coppery-brightness showed just beneath the well worn handle.

“Your mind!” Taes exclaimed. “Oh, but it is a great gift.”

Vyz did not speak but nodded solemnly.

Japhus blushed. “Thank you.”

Gifts bared and ready, the trio waited.

SS from October and December

October

from "Used to You" (Jenn Weber)

Icy wind tore at Lacey's face and fingers but the sun on her back was warm and the smoothness of the ice beneath her skates was like glass. She tucked her arms behind her back and leaned into the wind. It carried the scent of pine in its bite. Thirty-seven days until Christmas. Laughter from the far side of the pond echoed just above the sharp swish of her skates. Thirty-three days until Jake's visit for the holidays. Missing him threatened to steal away her joy of the first skate of the season.

Stretching she let herself slow slightly before pulling down into a spin. Then jumped into another...and another and another until she was too dizzy to skate straight but the ache in her happiness remained. It would be better if he was here.

"Lacey!" Her sister Dana called between giggles, "We need another hand here."

Dana was skating backwards and supporting their cousin Becca who didn't know how to skate. The pair wobbled over the ice. Soaking wet patches on their jeans testified to a number of spills.

Lacey waited for them. "You're looking really good, Becca."

"Ha, funny." Becca grabbed hold of Lacey's arm, "I don't know how I let you talk me into this. It's so cold and the hot chocolate is gone and the ice will probably melt any moment, we're gonna die."

"A horrible chocolate-less drowning death!" Dana said with mock severity.

Both girls laughed but Becca didn't loosen her white knuckled grip on Lacey's arm.

"We're not going to die." Lacey shifted so that she could balance her cousin better. "Keep your eyes up and bend your knees a little."

With encouragement, Becca relaxed and gradually gained the confidence to take a few strides on her own.

"Say!" Dana said in an exaggerated theatrical tone, "I wonder who that could be?"

Lacey looked to where her sister pointed and froze.

Jake was skating toward them. Curly hair whipped back. Ridiculous grin on his face.

She couldn't move, could hardly breathe, but her heart leapt the distance between them a moment before he caught her in his arms and swung her in a wild circle.

Warmth and old spice and sweet brown eyes. This is real.

"Surprise," he said.

Something soft and red landed on Lacey's nose. She turned and Becca snapped a picture as Dana tore open another bag of rose petals. "What-?"

Jake dropped to one knee. One hand still squeezed hers as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar little box. "Lacey Marie, I love you and I will love you forever. Will you marry me?"

December

from "I'll Wait" (Pursuits DTS)

Once upon a happening, I walked in the strange ways and lingered at doorways to places unknown.

I don’t know when that changed. I haven’t grown old. My skin is still as smooth and soft as an infant’s. No grey streaks my hair. My arms and legs are strong as they ever were.

But my mind has dimmed. I can’t remember the last time I felt curious or afraid or awestruck.The colours that used to be vibrant are garish. Music is only noise to me.

Is there a way back? May I return to what I once knew? Can I?

I lay my guitar in my lap and rest my hands on the strings.

I’ll wait.

SS - In the Wicked Woods

Songs: I Believe in Love (BarlowGirl) & Father And Son (Ronald Owen)

In the Wicked Woods

The swing creaked. It was a sound as familiar to Janet as it was antithetical to the Wicked Woods. The worn wood of the seat cushioned her while the old rope scraped at her hands. She let her toes drag in the black dirt and the swing slowed.

“I don’t understand why are you here,” said the ghost who leaned against one post of the swing.

 Janet had learned long ago that looking at ghosts made her eyes sting and her stomach queasy so she kept her eyes straight forward. Not that looking would have helped to identify the ghost. The ghosts of the Woods changed face and form like Janet’s sister changed shoes. “I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“If you don’t already know then I won’t be able to explain it to you.”

The ghost appeared directly in front of Janet. She wore the cherubic face of a little girl but her dark eyes held the gravity and cunning of the very old.

Janet’s stomach churned and she shut her eyes tight. Goosebumps rose over her arms and legs. She could smell the ghost now, a faint mix of smoke, rain and lilacs. She knew this one. Considering what the ghost was capable of, Janet knew she shouldn’t allow herself to relax and feel a measure of comfort but she couldn’t help it. She was alone, encircled by the Woods, and no one would be coming to save her, but she smiled. “Well met, Lisla, I’m glad you came here first.”

“You always were a strange child,” there was no warmth in Lisla’s voice, “but you are not a child anymore. You have no excuse for trespassing here even if you are as crazy as the old man was.”

Janet continued to smile, eyes closed, “I take after my Grandfather, in spirit if not in looks.”

“He’s dead.”

Even now, it hurt. Janet took a slow breath and let it out. “I know.”

“If you go now, you can still leave.” There was something new in Lisla’s tone that Janet had not heard before. “I’ve made a path for you.”

Janet looked at the ghost. She steeled herself to ignore the shifting transparency of the ghost’s face and see just Lisla’s eyes. The same something was hidden there, flickering in the dark depths. “I was right.” Janet said even though she couldn’t be sure of what she saw or heard, it was so very faint.

“You have to go now.”

Janet shook her head. “I’m not going.” She let go of the swing and spread her hands. “Like you said, I’m as crazy as he was.”

Lisla’s form grew taller but seemed shrunk in on itself even as she loomed over Janet still seated on the swing. Her face, still shifting, now appeared more grotesque than cherubic. “I can’t protect you.” She hissed.

Lisla’s desperation could not sway Janet from her decision, but it was a confirmation of Janet’s hopes for the ghost. “I’m glad you came, Lisla, but you don’t have to stay and watch what happens next. The path-”

“-will not conceal a soulless.”

A cold wind blew low over the few blades of yellow-brown grass. It twisted around Janet’s ankles and whispered cruel words.

Janet swallowed back her own fear and kept her eyes on Lisla. “If you have no soul then there is no risk. Take the path.”

For another moment the ghost hovered. There was rustling in the trees. Shadows deepened.

“Go now.”

Lisla touched a cold hand to Janet’s face. “I’m sorry.” She vanished, just before darkness enveloped the clearing.

I Will Rise

-May song story from Chris Tomlin's "I Will Rise"-





When I step through the veil, everything changes.


The incessant buzzing stops so suddenly, the silence is like music. I take a slow breath and the air tastes free. I want to open my eyes but then the anticipation will be over. I wait.


Softly, music does begin. An oboe beckons with a sound at once so far away that I take another step forward and yet so close that my spine tingles up to my ears. How can it be both at once? I don’t know.


Other instruments join, drums, piano, guitar. If I focus, I can hear the individual melodies in the harmony. Each tells a different story. All entwine into an epic so strange and familiar and romantic, I start to laugh.


A breeze, scented with lilac and cinnamon, swirls and spins around me. It teases my face. The grass tickles my toes.


Do I dare step in further? Do I open my eyes?


A low rumble moves through the music. The light against my eyelids remains as bright as ever but now gentle raindrops fall. The wind catches the rain and tosses it about so it falls up as well as down.


Already dizzy with laughter, I spin in the rain.


I don’t know how or when it happens but the ground disappears from beneath me. I am rising, flying.


It is nothing like swimming or falling or floating or anything else I ever imagined flying might be. I’m dancing and the centre of gravity has changed. I am not drawn up or down, I am drawn further in.


The rain ebbs. My feet touch down on warm mossy rock. Mixed in with the music, I hear the laughter and murmuring of other people but the place where I wait belongs only to me and one other.


When I open my eyes, my heart knows whom I will finally see.

Esperar

Sometimes I think all of life is a lesson in waiting and I wonder again what it really means to hope.

When I say that I hope in Him, there is very little of wishing and very much of anticipating and expecting. But sometimes He seems to take a very very long time.

Abba, you know my heart. How much longer?

Psalm 127 (KJV)

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
2 When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell.
3 Though an host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear: though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident.
4 One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in his temple.
5 For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion: in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me; he shall set me up upon a rock.
6 And now shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me: therefore will I offer in his tabernacle sacrifices of joy; I will sing, yea, I will sing praises unto the Lord.

7 Hear, O Lord, when I cry with my voice: have mercy also upon me, and answer me.
8 When thou saidst, Seek ye my face; my heart said unto thee, Thy face, Lord, will I seek.
9 Hide not thy face far from me; put not thy servant away in anger: thou hast been my help; leave me not, neither forsake me, O God of my salvation.
10 When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.
11 Teach me thy way, O Lord, and lead me in a plain path, because of mine enemies.
12 Deliver me not over unto the will of mine enemies: for false witnesses are risen up against me, and such as breathe out cruelty.
13 I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
14 Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.

*Waiting*

*Wait*

Now, Abba?

Waiting

It is one thing to go without food and water
Another to go without sleep
but to go without either, Lord, how?
How can you be strong in such weakness?


I am willing, do as You will.