Right now I’ve been typing up a story called: Mr. Field’s Rosemary (one of my Jesus in disguise books). It takes place in an orchard field with a recently widowed woman on her way to Mr. Joshua Field’s cottage to cook breakfast for him and his six children. What Rosemary discovers is that Mr. Field’s is too going through pain. His beloved wife has run away from home again. This story has two big twists that leads to wholeness for Rosemary and the six adorable children she easily begins to love. I always ask the Lord to help me write and my prayer is that everything I publish leaves a deep, healing impression of Jesus’s love in the heart of every reader. I pray each reader comes to “see” the sweetly inconspicuous ways Jesus is hidden in plain sight in their lives and that they come begin to fellowship with Him daily. Enjoy:
While Joshua was gone Rosemary took some more sips of tea before admiring his kitchen again. She drank in the lovely decor and imagined his wife must have helped him furnish this room. Warmth from the pillar heat lamp rubbed her back like an expert massage therapist.
Rosemary spotted a bright gold chested hummingbird with shimmering emerald wings. It sucked sugared water from a feeder dangling from the paneled patio. The gold-flamed honeysuckle flowers glowed from the peeking rays of the sun. Their vines hung like a soft caress on the patio’s design. The edge of winter was waning and the waking yawns of spring echoed in the scenery.
Joshua announced his presence by softly clearing his throat. He headed for the cabinets, “coffee too?”
“No thank you Mr. Fields. Your tea is quite…perfect.”
Joshua grinned in delight, “I think you’ll enjoy the coffee more.”
Rosemary only stared…missing the taste of freshly brewed coffee on her palate.
“I feel like you’re a coffee drinker.” Mr. Fields stated before turning on the grinder. The inviting scents of the beans wafted underneath Rosemary’s nose.
“I do love coffee,” Rosemary confessed and then shrugged one shoulder, “but usually with a ton of whipped milk and sugar…among other things.” She blushed as she looked down at her belly and slightly patted it, “but I’m trying to lay low on some things right now.”
Mr. Fields gave a sympathetic look.
Tears threatened and Rosemary let out a cough to clear her throat, “I…I overate quite a bit after…” her voice broke. After my husband died, she thought. She shook her head before glancing up at him. His gaze was attentive but not forceful.
A long moment of silence filtered between them, with it, an awkward pressure to break it. Mr. Fields turned off the grinder and carefully made his way toward her.
All of the pain she was feeling was like an angry volcano in her chest. It threatened to squeeze through her throat. Rosemary gulped loudly and her bottom lip twitched. Mr. Fields stopped an arm length away.
She feared he would touch her…but more than that she feared the wrath inside of herself. She had never experienced anger when Richard died…only overwhelming sadness. The worst part was…she felt her anger was directed toward God.
What kind of Christian am I?
Shame flamed Rosemary’s already reddened face. Her jade eyes widened and she took a step back.
“Do you need to talk about it?” Mr. Fields asked gently.
Rosemary shook her head more violently than she intended, “it’s nothing I think would be beneficial to our working relationship.”
“But, would it be beneficial to you? That’s important too.” His voice was so soft it came out like a whisper.
She looked up and saw his beautifully warm eyes. There was genuine care sketched across his bronzy visage.
A thousand thoughts battled in her mind. But the longer she looked at him, the more her mind cleared. It was as if the soft peace she felt around him was being offered to her.
“After…my husband died,” the words came out like the bite of an undying winter. Her shoulders shook and her trembling lips parted before a flood of audible cries came out. Joshua closed the remaining gap between them and wrapped her in his arms. She forgot herself and buried her face against his chest. He rested his chin on her head and embraced her firmly. She stood there in his shelter until she collected herself.
After becoming calm, Rosemary allowed herself to linger in Mr. Field’s supportive arms. She could hear his heartbeat against her ears and the faint scent of spikenard, saffron and calamus were blended like a colon bath on his clothes. Clearing her throat, she put a pushing hand against him and he released her immediately. Clear tears trailed her cheeks, dripped down her chin and splashed against her arms and shirt.
“I…”
He cut her off, “Don’t apologize. I’m glad you got that off your chest.”
She glanced away until he spoke again, “You don’t ever have to pretend you feel anyway other than what you do around me. I’m not unfamiliar with pain…or comfort.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fields.”
He held a hand up, “please call me Joshua. It’s more personable.”
She tilted her head slightly.
“It’s okay if you forget…but it’s another if you do it on purpose. I’m asking you to call me by my first name.”
Deciding not to make waves Rosemary nodded. “Okay,” she verbalized.
“Good,” He said and then only stared. The look on his face spoke volumes more. He desired to say things that she wasn’t ready to hear. Pain flickered in his eyes and then something else. A knowing she couldn’t discern yet it pulled on her soul like a magnet leading straight to his heart.
She sniffled and squinted her eyes in thought.
“I want you to feel like family with myself and the kids.” Joshua said and in her heart, she believed him.
“That is super kind of you to say that. I confess I think my time volunteering with you might unravel some of my emotions. I never meant to involve you in my grieving process, especially since your family is going through a difficult family time as well.”
“I believe this is a good thing,” he said confidently but not arrogantly. Rosemary waited for an explanation and when he offered none she shrugged, “maybe.”
Joshua turned away and went back to fixing his coffee. After pouring fresh water into a silver and black cappuccino machine he offered, “I can help you with breakfast if you like?”
There was something about him that made Rosemary suspect she would not be able to hide behind her self-imposed mask of calm. She trembled inwardly as she feared his peaceful presence would unravel the ugly things within her she had so desperately closed her conscious to. Vulnerability had never been her forte. Her history was marked with painful memories of rejection and scorn whenever she exposed the soft, throbbing, naked places of her soul. She couldn’t imagine Joshua would respond any different.
“No, thank you.” she said, wanting to put distance between herself and him.
Fear not, for you shall not be ashamed; neither be confounded and depressed, for you shall not be put to shame. For you shall forget the shame of your youth, and you shall not [seriously] remember the reproach of your widowhood any more.
For your Maker is your Husband—the Lord of hosts is His name—and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; the God of the whole earth He is called.
For the Lord has called you like a woman forsaken, grieved in spirit, and heartsore—even a wife [wooed and won] in youth, when she is [later] refused and scorned, says your God. -Isaiah 54:4-6 AMP
As always, may you enjoy the warmth of Jesus’s love today in familiar and unexpected places! For a romantic fictional book on the bridegroom love of Jesus, check out my book, Romantic Rendezvous for The Soul!
“As I read, I quickly became enthralled with this book, so beautifully written in the language of love. Each of these short stories so accurately reflects the romantic and wooing heart of the Bridegroom which draws you to Himself into a deeper place of love and intimacy. If you have not yet experienced romantic intimacy with God, I’m confident that this book will set you on course. It’s bound to warm your soul and whet your desire for your own heart-to-heart conversations and experiences with God. The author creatively ministers to the soul, bringing truth to light in the most tangible ways; you will feel that God is speaking directly to you, and He most certainly is!
Some stories caused me to be drawn away into remembrance of my own experiences and conversations with God that have freed my soul; others caused me to reevaluate my heart’s commitment to my first Husband and cry out for forgiveness; and yet others simply took me on a delightful and exciting adventure of what the beginning of a holy, unadulterated love looks like – so refreshing to the soul! I commend the author for using her creative gifting to share personal reflections and heart intimacies which I know could only come from the deep well of Father’s heart. I highly recommend this book as a must read!” -Marina Garcia