“The joy and beauty of marriage are divinely designed. Nothing in human imagination could have created such an intimate, wonderful relational unmasking of self. There is a sweet security and a vulnerable nakedness that is wholesome and liberating.”
Stephen,
You are one of the biggest blessings God has ever given me. Thank you for loving me past the fear. Thank you for loving me first. I can truly say I am in covenant with you because you loved me first… I can only say that with one other Person…Jesus Christ. He loved me past my greatest fears and did everything to mend the breach between myself and Father’s love.
Every now and again I get asked this question (from mostly younger women), “when did you know you were in love with Stephen?” The truth is I don’t know…I can’t name a day or time. It was truly as if my heart for him was like a large thanksgiving cooking pot of cold water… and someone put my heart on the stove on low heat. Funny thing about cooking that way is the part of the pot closets to the fire is the deepest water. It’s not heat from the top down but the down up. It was a deeply spiritual and soulful heating/stirring of love…one that has enriched my life in every way.
I’ve learned something about cooking and that’s if you patiently blend totally different spices together on low for a long time, they merge into something savory. This is like God’s command for two to become one. Two souls in the furnace of God’s heart blending together. I often wondered what scripture meant when it said Adam and Eve were naked and unashamed. In my youthful (unmarried) thinking I supposed it was only physical. It wasn’t until Sunday night when I looked into your eyes that I truly experienced the blessedness of that verse. Your eyes weren’t shuttered in any way. They were open pools of blue that I had dived in many times. They were open flames of a heart that was swung wide for me (as if your soul was a living room with a rocking chair built for me). They were unconditional love that I had now received as a resting place…that I now considered home. And I was unashamed to look back and to take in your affections. Not in kisses and passion…but in soul connection.
There once would have been a day where I would have glanced away in fear. Fear and love are two powerful forces that cannot coexist, but perfect love always casts out fear. I once heard the word intimacy described as, “into me, you see.” I’ve looked into many eyes…parents, siblings…other brothers and sisters in Christ…but no set of eyes ever felt so transparent and so one with my own soul like yours did a few nights ago. I’ve never been one with anyone except Jesus (and I’ve seen His eyes before in visions. And in those pictures, I’ve found myself looking away for how consuming, captivating, intense and fiery His heart showed through His eyes…like a light I couldn’t behold for fear of going blind).
Our marriage is a growing picture of Christ & the Church…something I prayed for many years ago. A sonnet written in a lush garden and golden palace like Songs of Solomon. A spiritual connection like Jesus and the Holy Spirit (who is the Helper like a wife is to be a helpmeet to her husband. God is still teaching me about that one). I’ll never forget the morning God showed me that scripture in a new light. The one in psalms 133:2 where it says, “how wonderful it is for brethren to dwell together in unity. It is like oil dripping down the beard of Aaron the high priest.” It describes this oil running down his garments. The one thing about oil is that once it’s on your skin or clothes it absorbs into you and the fabric…scenting everything with itself. He revealed to me that Christ is our High Priest now/forever and that oil always represented the Holy Spirit/anointing/strength. Jesus was anointed with the Holy Spirit… and every believer who has the Holy Spirit (which is everyone who accepts Jesus) is marked/sealed according to Ephesians 1:13 as belonging to God/Christ. And we are to be one with Him like a husband and wife are to be one. The Holy Spirit has probably been my #1 advocate in training me how to be one with you.
I’ll never forget the 1st year of our marriage whenever the enemy would tempt me to even think the slightest negative thought about you The Holy Spirit would ask me, “why are you thinking this against yourself?” I would reply, “I’m not being tempted to think this about myself but about my husband.” And He would always remind me, “but you and him are one.” This happened several times until I realized in God’s eyes, we really are united as one. Our unity has become a foundational stone in the building of all that I am… and all I will be. My connection with you is second only to Christ and I know this blessing of marriage as God designed it to be as the greatest experience of heaven on earth, I’ve had…except in my own quarters when I’m alone with Christ…my heavenly Bridegroom.
There are no words that I can pen that could describe our unity by God. No signature could define this elation, bliss, and merriment of being naked and unashamed. It’s as if we are taken back to the garden of Eden (our daughter’s name now) to experience what Adam and Eve had before the fall. Life as God meant it… unified to Him and each other.
I have really stretched my ability as a writer and expanded my mold as a creator with this project. There are so many things to say about this project but so far three of my favorite quotes are:
“…Pity without action is useless. Pity with action is compassion.”
“This isn’t about what you’ve done but what’s been done for you and it’s not about who you are but who lives inside of you.”
“…there’s a great difference between lust and love. The Bible tells you to flee from youthful lusts but not to flee from love. If you really love someone, you will want to protect them. You wouldn’t want to do anything selfish to dishonor them or tempt them to break God’s law.”
Synopsis:
She grew up in church and has never been in a relationship, he’s a prestigious male model with a scarlet past in search of redemption…
Noble has been anything but what his name implies. As a popular male model since adolescence who’s dated his fair share of influential women, he’s spent a decade living a financially lucrative, infamously party lifestyle, full of international and local gigs. But the glamor of stardom has tarnished, and the taste of self-indulgence has soured in his stomach. The drugs, fame and sound of raving fans heralding his name cannot appease the growing emptiness gnawing at his soul.
On the brink of imploding, he seeks a respite from his cunning agent and his intoxicating, actress girlfriend. Noble takes a spontaneous trip to his conservative, small hometown where he’s left behind an estranged relationship with his parents. There, on a cold, snowy night he encounters a captivating light in a modest barista, Trisha, who breathes hope into his soul and helps him unravel the gilded cords that once ensnared him tightly.
Their fateful rendezvous is the catalyst that ushers him on a redemptive path. But Noble’s dark past pursues him ardently, and his former addictions begin to weaken his will.
Will the celestial light he experienced be able to withstand the encroaching darkness that threatens to engulf him?
A Sneak Peek into the Pages:
~Enjoy this snippet from, His Liberating Flame. Book 1: Escaping the Past.
Prologue
Cold sweat broke out on Noble’s skin and nausea churned his insides until he felt sick enough to vomit. He sat up in bed, a long groan carried through his exhale. The fine silk sheets slowly fell from his bare, muscular torso and gathered around his washboard abs. Moonlight streamed in from his master bedroom Tuscan mansion windows, which were as tall as doors, illuminating the room. The creamy white light bounced off mahogany and oakwood furniture with brass knobs. The stained-glass painting depicting the starry sky over a rolling ocean seemed to glow with glimmers of cyan and cobalt blue. The pearly walls were like desert sand, picking up and reflecting the silvery light spilling in.
Beside him in his king-sized bed was his tempestuous girlfriend, Alyssa. She was an up-and-coming actress. Her luxurious strawberry blonde hair was spread across the fluffy pillows, and she slept deeply. Not wishing to wake her, he attempted to carefully cross his legs over the side until his feet touched the carpet. He was a little unsteady in his motions.
What time is it? He wondered, and examined the immaculate room, forgetting where he was for a moment. Out the window, the familiar hills glowing with the emanating lights of other mansions brought recognition.
Just then, it dawned on him where he was.
Home.
A sudden swell of pain erupted in his stomach, and he convulsed. He slid a shaky hand through his enviable summer brown hair, digging his fingers unnaturally hard against his scalp. He grunted and swore.
Alyssa made a soft stirring noise, and Noble looked over his shoulder at her. She blinked and her green eyes were shrouded with the glaze of narcotics. She reached for him, lightly brushing her fingers against his side before shutting her eyes again, seemingly satisfied once she touched his skin. She looked as if she were in a state of oblivion, but even then, he noted she was still clingy.
He wondered if she thought her sudden, yet expected reappearance in his life would amend their last breakup. He hoped not.
A sickening feeling ascended and then ebbed in his stomach again like the rhythmic movements of lapping waves against a shore. He clutched his stomach responsively.
What had she given me to take the night before?
He couldn’t remember. His mind revibrated with rapid thoughts like a hollow ball ping ponging, causing vibrational pain near his temples. He had been stoned out of his mind the night before. Whatever concoction Alyssa had mustered was “new” and supposed to help ease his tension.
It did much more than promised. It had knocked him out cold!
One minute they were deliriously wrapped up in each other’s arms on his bed, and the next minute, he had been sucked into the twilight zone.
It was as if she could always tell when he was in a weakened state to make her reappearance in his life after a split. As he fought another oncoming wave of nausea, he couldn’t help but wonder if Alyssa’s addiction would one day become dangerously fatal.
He had lost a coworker, Nick, earlier in the year due to an overdose on sedatives. Nick had drowned in his Nordica sauna tub. He was only twenty-two. Attending his funeral was a sobering affair. After the funeral, Noble spoke with Alyssa about seeking help for her addiction. He was worried for her physical safety and mental sanity, but she saw his suggestion as an condescending accusation. She never sought aid.
She had BPD, borderline personality disorder, with an acute fear of abandonment. She took sedatives to ease her anxiety and depression and to suppress her toxic viper side. He had no idea how troublesome their relationship would be.
The first time they met was during a raving party that his agent had finagled him into. It was mainly for rich musicians and actors, but he was invited. The place was popping with security, flashing cameras and hype music. Men and women smoked tobacco, and sigs, giving off aromatic nicotine.
Noble saw Alyssa from across the smokey room. The multi-colored strobe lights from the ceiling flashed on her smooth, creamy skin and fringe dress with rose gold tassels. Her seductive beauty immediately attracted him. They gravitated toward one another. Later, that night, they snuck out for drinks, dodging some paparazzi that were circling the estate where the party was being held. They visited a club where rich, young influencers like them hung out to have a good time. It was there that Noble saw her fun-loving, flirtatious, and confident side. He was drawn in by her charisma like a magnet, not realizing she was like the moon; one side was bright, while the other was completely black.
They danced and quickly became physical. Within a week their relationship “accidentally” hit the press thanks to some informed paparazzi. Noble never intended to go far with her, but fans from both sides became obsessed with their romance and eventually through social media, their followers started calling them “Nolyssa.”
In his opinion it was a dumb name, but it spread like wildfire and proved to be profitable as their social circles widened. Sales interest perked up and agencies from both sides of their spheres became interested in making collaborations.
Noble and Alyssa were sitting on one of his many leather couches in his third living room, when they talked about how to maximize their growing popularity while they could. She was wearing one of his shirts which was obviously too big for her, and her long, slender legs rested over the arm of the chesterfield as her head lay in his lap. She was excited to come out as a couple and said they were “official,” not just because of the media, but because she was now in his clothes and in his house. He stroked her glossy hair and they kissed passionately with anticipation building between them.
For a few months they lived it up, going to every party, making social appearances, being interviewed in gossip-riddled tabloids, and even doing some television commercials together. Alyssa was invited to join some of the female models who were paired with him for a runway, and she soaked it up, enjoying the wardrobe changes, the constant flashing lights, and the googling eyes of onlookers. It was fun. It was wild. It was hot. They were both on fire, but it was becoming painfully obvious to Noble they would burn each other to the ground if they stayed together.
Their disagreements started off innocent and small enough, like most couples, but then he realized Alyssa was obsessive and tried to control things she had no business with. During their social exposure, she would occasionally interrupt him while he was speaking on camera to answer a question that was directed at him. She began imputing her opinion on his wardrobe, especially when they went to gatherings as a couple—she wanted them to match or for him to wear a specific outfit. She began critiquing his diet, although hers was erratic and included much intermittent fasting and downloads of drugs that helped her to curb her appetite and keep her slender figure.
What was worse was that she was quickly becoming like invasive moss over his life, spreading her opinions like moss gives out spores. She would stay at his place for days before going home. She began rearranging the furniture to please her tastes. They had never agreed to live together, so Noble wasn’t sure why she thought this was acceptable. Eventually, she even began giving suggestions on what contracts and offers he should enter into as if she were his wife.
He hated feeling controlled—his agent had enough control of his life, and he certainly didn’t want it from his girlfriend. It was a sore spot for him since adolescence and the source of uncharacteristic rage. It began with his father, whom he hadn’t spoken to in years. He accused Alyssa of being controlling and she accused him of being proud.
Their third month together was rocky. They broke up and got back together again at least a dozen times. Although they were terrible for each other, Alyssa always became desperate when Noble brought out obvious discrepancies in their relationship and asked for distance.
After separating, she would approach him first or he would go to her, and they would inevitably get high or drunk before becoming physical. Usually within a week, the eventual arguing would start. Their arguments would turn aggressive, and she began throwing things at him. After breaking enough of his nice furnishings, he would split up with her and then a few days would go by before they were back at it again. It was a vicious cycle.
Noble pressed his fists against his temple and tried to shake off the dense fog that clouded his thoughts.
What could have happened that was so bad that he would let Alyssa intoxicate him?
Finally, after several minutes he recalled coming home under a lot of stress from his shrewd modeling agent who had booked him out for the next month. The agenda was filled with five or more jobs a day, from sunrise to sunset with no weekends off. The schedule he gave was so overwhelmingly busy that Noble felt it was closer to slave labor.
The minute Noble walked into his office after reviewing his schedule, Anthony slickly rose from his lacquered redwood table and offered him a glass of scotch. With a smooth tongue that might as well have been forked like a serpent, he went on to tell Noble in a fatherly tone how amazing this opportunity was for him.
A trace of a knowing smug lifted the corner of his thin lips. He always wore that meniscal smile. Noble had come to know this was his speechless way of telling him that he was really in charge of his life, and he had no real ultimate say in matters—regardless of how advantageous he painted his decisions. His olive tanned skin, and black pepper hair with salty grays at the temples gave him a sophisticated, wolverine appearance.
They had gotten into a huge quarrel full of explicit cussing and until Noble finally stormed out of the room breathing threats that he wouldn’t put up with Anthony for much longer. Noble could still hear Anthony’s last parting words, “you’ll wake up and thank me for everything you’ve become one day.”
Noble gritted his teeth thinking of all the international traveling that would become his life for the next four weeks.
How did Anthony expect him to work multiple shows a day for weeks, with no breaks? All the international travel, time changes, jet leg and his long overdue, unspent vacation hours wasn’t adding up to equal to a pleasant trip. He imagined all the alcohol he would surely gulp down and the pills he would pop just to keep from imploding within himself or passing out.
Noble raked his hand through his summer brown hair and swore again under his breath.
He couldn’t do this anymore.
He wouldn’t do this anymore!
Unbeknownst to Anthony, he hated what he had become.
He dreaded the ceaseless crowds full of screaming women that pierced his eardrums until he felt like sirens were going off in his brain. He was gorged on self-indulgence, materialism, and fame. It had rotted in his gut. He loathed the pretension that his life as a wealthy top model with a gorgeous actress girlfriend was a golden pedestal to be praised; when inside of him there slowly formed an insatiable hunger like a black hole longing for something he couldn’t place; something that was existentially good and filling, but out of this world as far as he was concerned.
He thought this life of stardom and copious sell-pleasing would fulfill him. It was what he had passionately wanted. For several years it had been, but now it was rapidly losing its appeal.
But what else was there?
This was the life he had broken with his past for. He had given up everything he’d known for this.
He stood, feeling wobbly at first and made his way to the bathroom just in time for the drugs he had swallowed to come out in violent gag motions. After it was over, the acidic taste of bile burned in the back of his throat. Sickened and feeling emptied, he slumped by the commode, and he didn’t rise until he felt strong enough.
Here he was, the fantasy of thousands of women and the state’s upcoming “most sexy man alive,” slumping by a commode after an ugly vomit.
He gave a self-deprecating chuckle.
If only my fans could see me now.
A wry smile twisted his desired lips.
Eventually, he moseyed his way into the master kitchen, passing three of his redwood butler pantries and the opal, and lapis lazuli stone tiled bar counters, that he had meticulously searched for and eventually hired a special designer for. The counters always reminded him of the starry constellations or reflective sunlight on the Pacific Ocean. Few people understood his inspiration for this particular design, even as they gaped at it in admiration. Unfortunately, his counters were full of Alyssa’s things so he could barely see royal blue colors mingled with the flecks of white rainbow colors that shimmered in the opal.
He grabbed a glass of mineral water from his stainless-steel refrigerator and downed it. He turned on his coffee maker and stood by his tall glass paneled windows facing east to catch the sunrise, they were twelve feet high and easily showed him the heavens as well as the earth below.
A rubicund dipping canyon was before him, but above him was the night sky. He looked up, hoping to see starlight and a strange longing from his childhood rapped at his conscience.
The snowy mountains.
Wildlife under the aurora lights.
A deep sadness that had been building in him for nearly eighteen months surfaced again. He missed the way things were before his fame. He could barely see any stars due to the smog in Lost Angels and the eyesore city lights that seemed to never go out. He sighed and made some salted coffee. Suddenly cold, he turned on the heated flooring and slumped on one of his many white, faux leather couches.
He couldn’t go through with this. Not this time. He couldn’t imagine doing a month’s worth of international runways, gigs, and parties in Europe. After 8 years of living at a rat race pace with Anthony at the wheel, and no vacation, he felt on the edge of a mental breakdown.
The stardom and licentious living that he once craved so mightily, that he tore away from his parents, now left him wanting.
Hours later, Alyssa arose and took a hot shower. She appeared slightly out of sorts, despite her perfect makeup and bold red lipstick. She was dressed in a nice sequin nude dress with tall Louboutin heels and a long animal fur coat. Diamond teardrop earrings hung from her ears. She went about collecting her things.
“Do you have everything?” Noble asked from the couch as she stilled.
“Yes darling,” she said with a sing-song rhythm. She eyed him with her seafoam green eyes before checking her phone. She had a photoshoot to do this morning, thanks to his connections, and she didn’t want to run late.
“Break a leg,” he said standing from his leather couch.
She blew him a kiss from across the room, her rubicund lipstick, staining her milky palm, “after you.”
He felt no comfort or warmth from her actions. Strangely, he felt numbed by her presence as if she were a block of ice, within his chest, slowing down his blood circulation.
She strapped her Hermes purse across her shoulder and said she would see him tonight. He wondered what made her think she could make plans to be at his house without any consent from him. He knew her sweetness would turn into venom, as it usually did when she was not high or under the influence of some substance. He didn’t want to handle that tonight.
“Babe… I would like to be alone tonight.” Noble stated.
There was a slight pause as she gawked at him. Within a flash she thrust a glass of expensive Lafite Rothschild. It flew in his direction, and he narrowly dodged it in time. As the glass broke, deep maroon liquid splashed everywhere like blood.
She went feral and her cold green eyes glinted with anger.
“You promised me! You promised me you wouldn’t shut me out!” She yelled, her temper rising despite the sedatives that were losing their potency. She kept increasing her measures as her body numbed to the effects.
Noble stared at the scattered glass across his floor and frowned.
Yes, he had promised her that when he was buzzed out of his mind and was in such a stupor, they could do nothing more than laugh nonsensically and speak out of their rear ends. Any words of faithfulness he had “promised” her last night were worth nothing. But he didn’t want to outright remind her of their oblivious state nor the worthlessness of his promise. He had to be more tactful than that with her.
“That’s not what I’m doing.” he said, trying to sound calm, knowing things would rapidly escalate if he lost his cool.
“Yes, it is!” she said undeterred.
“No, it isn’t.” he finally dragged his eyes away from his stained carpet, wondering how soon he should call up a maid and meet Alyssa’s gaze.
She crumbled the second their eyes met.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a breathy voice. She came at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and jumbling out words that made no sense. Her words began to slur and the anxiety she gave off was almost palpable. He felt repelled being near her. He lifted his hands to her elbows to gently pull her away but the minute he did, she clutched him tighter.
“You can’t shut me out! I need you!”
“I think you need a psychiatrist, and a doctor,” he said, smelling the drugs in her breath, despite her heady floral perfume.
He untangled her arms from him and put firm hands on her shoulder, both to keep her away and to reason with her, “calm down before you do something you regret…again.”
He led her in a breathing exercise they had practiced before. She resisted at first but then began to follow along. She went still and for a brief second, he thought he had successfully calmed her down and prevented another maddening episode.
But then she narrowed her eyes to him and started talking. She started saying how much she needed him and then the accusations of how he failed her as a lover began. Before long they were arguing. Noble had enough of their verbal spars and told her they were over for good this time. She screamed and cussed at him before spontaneously breaking out in tears.
What’s wrong with her?
What did she take?
This was a little extreme, even for her.
“You never loved me,” she spat in self-pity.
“Come on Alyssa,” Noble sighed without compassion, “love was never a part of the equation, and you knew that walking in.”
He didn’t like her playing the innocent victim because she was far from it. Although a female, she was just as much of a perpetrator as he was.
Her mood shifted back to anger.
“You used me!” she charged, “You just wanted more fame and used his popularity as an actress to grow your own!”
Noble crossed his arms, not denying her accusation but not totally agreeing with it either.
“We used each other,” he stated matter-of-factly, “you wanted in on the modeling world and so dating me opened more opportunities for you. I wanted more commercial exposure and so dating you expanded this for me.”
They both knew she had been in partnership with Anthony in exposing them as a couple in the first few days of their relationship. She knew full well that he wasn’t ready, but she had done it in a grasping way to prolong her relationship with him—a fear instinct from her rejection issues. Anthony had done it for monetary reasons.
She clamped her lips shut, even though her eyes sparkled with rage, she couldn’t deflect the truth.
“I’ve given you more than you’ve ever given me,” she retorted, “you’ve made a killing on the TV ads I helped open up for you.”
“You can thank my shrewd agent for that.” he said, knowing the underlying reason why Anthony had moved boundaries to get him into parties with young, influential women for years. Even though it felt like an excuse to bring Anthony into the conversation, and he hated that, it was factual.
Every hookup equaled more media exposure for Noble, and thus lined both his and Anthony’s pocket. According to Anthony everyone won with more media attention. His idea of a bonus was, Noble got pleasure out of it, the women would get fleeting happiness out of it, and he would get richer through it. Win-win according to him. Noble had to admit Anthony’s tactics, while lacking moral purity, did get results.
Once Noble ditched his original hope of becoming a teenage sports model and acquired Anthony as an agent, he used this and many other apathetic maneuvers to increase Noble’s popularity.
“Life is about climbing the ladder of success, even if the ladder is made of human heads.” Anthony would say with a dour laugh.
Noble now had a mansion with four garages, three luxury vehicles, an inordinately large fan base for a model, a private guard and driver and more money than he knew what to do with.
For all appearances, Anthony had been right about climbing the ladder.
But all that fame had slowly eaten away at Noble’s soul, his once conservative-based sense of ethics had all but evaporated, his sense of autonomy had diminished, and he was addicted like many others in his world—a rich slave to his own passions.
“You’re a low-down rotten playboy!” Alyssa spat.
“If I’m a playboy, then you can hop away, little bunny.” Noble said coldly, dismissing her with his hand. He was more than ready for her to leave his place and his life.
Alyssa swore and began ranting again. Noble thought the nightmare would never end but then her phone vibrated alerting her that she was running late.
She threw many insults his way and, in his anger, he threw a few back at her before she left.
It didn’t take him long after that to realize he needed to get away. He called the usual cleaning service to tidy up his place while he packed his belongings. He quickly had his guard, Alonzo, change the locks so Alyssa couldn’t get in. He was a burly man with broad shoulders, a tall frame and warm brown skin the color of hazelnut. He was also the most efficient security guard Noble had in all his years of modeling, and he seemed to be good at everything he was instructed to do.
Noble met him outside, before the tall metal gate hidden by thick green bushes. Under his stately, stone white trellis with climbing blossoming vines leading into the winding path toward his mansion, they conversed.
“Nobody is allowed on his property while I’m away. If anyone comes to the gate, tell them I’m not taking any visitors and to leave a message with you if it’s important enough.” Noble stated.
Alonzo nodded, shades covering his brown eyes. The morning sunshine bounced off his shiny bald head.
“Will you need an escort or guard sir?” he asked respectfully.
Noble still felt it odd that Alonzo insisted on calling him “sir” when he was more than twice his age—but he allowed his guard this awkward liberty.
Alonzo knew it was unusual for Noble to go anywhere without someone to assist him and he stared thinkingly at him.
“No,” Noble said and gave him a brief pat on the shoulder. Although they barely spoke outside of work-related topics, Noble liked Alonzo.
“Have a good, safe trip sir.” Alonzo spoke, accepting his wishes although he disagreed with them.
Noble nodded, and with bags in hand, he departed.
At first, he didn’t know where he would go, but a faint thought came to his mind. It was light and sweet, like whipped cream on his tongue.
Go home.
He hadn’t been to Pine Castles in ten years on purpose. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing in that small, snowy mountain town that he cared for, except for his parents. He debated the idea before deciding he had nothing to lose. Perhaps three days in the high, clear altitude would clear his brain and give him a sense of peace from the chaos?
He was eight hours from his designation and determined to go for it. His raven black Mercedes was self-driving. His voice activated the AI in his car, and it pulled up the GPS system. Within seconds, the fastest coordination route showed on the screen.
The next five hours of quiet helped clear his head. Long hours of silence weren’t something he was used to, and he enjoyed it very much. For a while, he enjoyed watching the landscape slowly transform from palm branches, illustrious tall buildings, skyscrapers, and mansions into wild, majestic mountains. For miles he took sentimental pleasure in the rural spaces full of natural rocky mountain junipers, fringed sage, Oregon grape holly, prickly pear and one of his favorites growing up for its striking color, redtwig dogwood.
He stopped for a late lunch since he had missed breakfast and shortly thereafter, he dozed off as his car cruised easily up a mountain pass. Coming around the bend, a spacious valley opened, blanketed in pristine white snow. By the time he opened his eyes again, two more hours had gone by. He smiled, knowing he needed rest, and he was grateful for the quiet time he had to catch up on sleep. He saw fresh snow falling from contrasting clouds rippling with the setting rays of the sun and the dark space above. The snow fell like shimmering white gold and was powdery light. A soft smile played on his lips as he looked around. Pleasant memories of himself as a young child playing in snow colored his imagination.
Everything seemed to finally be okay until his addiction to alcohol began filling him with unease. His body began reacting as his mind became obsessed with the thought of having a few drinks. He hadn’t thought to pack any drinks when he planned this spontaneous trip. He searched for the nearest pub but stopped himself.
No! Noble thought, I will not get wasted on my first night back home!
Angry with himself he flung his phone into the passenger’s seat, but the urging only increased. His dark obsession for drugs arose under the current of his desire for alcohol.
He didn’t want to lose control of his ability to think clearly. Not after what happened with Alyssa. He thought of something else he could do to give himself some sort of appeasement. The only other thing he naturally turned to was women. For years, whenever he felt restless, he would turn to substances or the warmth of a beautiful woman in an attempt to fill his emptiness.
He smiled thinking about having a light-hearted fling with someone new for the next few days while he was on vacation. He could go to a club and easily pick up a quick date. He frowned unexpectedly as he thought of the type of women that would be in a nightclub. He didn’t want another Alyssa in his life, or anyone remotely close to his many ex-girlfriends. No. he wanted someone else. Someone different. Someone sane. And someone…good.
It had been a long time since he went out with an ordinary, decent woman. For a second, he couldn’t think of a common meeting place for such women, and he gave a self-self-deprecatory chuckle.
“Where the hell should I go?” he wondered out loud.
He stared up at the car ceiling, temporarily frustrated. Wrinkles formed on his forehead as he frowned, thinking hard. It took many minutes before the idea of going to a café came to mind. He searched for nearby cafes, and a few options appeared. Sliding his thumb across the screen, he noticed a new one that didn’t exist before he left home.
Snow Café.
“Something different,” he voiced lowly and took the wheel heading in the direction of Snow Café.
About 15 minutes later he arrived in town at a modest diner. It was aglow with warm light radiating from the windows against the cold dark night. Piles of snow had recently been shoveled and were pushed on one side of the parking lot. The air felt clean and crisp but devoid of the high oxygen saturation that he was used to living at sea level. Being back in Pine Castles felt surreal. A powerful sensation started low, as if there were an invisible current under his feet, and it began to swell in minute levels. The feeling was so palpable, Noble wondered if it were a last-minute effect of the drugs being cleansed from his nervous system.
Noble locked his car and went inside. Men and women in huge coats, snow boots, scarfs, and other winter apparel, sat around at tables eating, chatting, and drinking hot drinks from decorative mugs. The café was quaint, and well-lit with ceiling lights. No one was in line, so he walked up to the counter and ordered a drink from an older man, Greg, with Santa Clause worthy white hair. He gave Noble a polite smile and poured him a glass of iced water before going to make his hot coco himself. Noble didn’t want anything caffeinated as he planned on getting good sleep tonight. A homemade hot chocolate recipe was the only thing he could quickly think of.
“Take a seat wherever you’d like, sunny,” Greg said after handing Noble his order.
“Thank you.” Noble replied and decided on a table beside the wall of square windows. He sat down and began scanning the room for his next potential fling and then he saw her…
“Ashley has a very talented gift of weaving words together that display tenderness, compassion and purity. Each story reveals the heart of Jesus towards His children. As you read each one you can see past the characters and feel the depth of Jesus’ heart, as well as the longing for a deeper relationship with Jesus inside yours.” -Amazon review
One thing I have asked of the Lord, and that I will seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord [in His presence] all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty [the delightful loveliness and majestic grandeur] of the Lord. And to meditate in His temple. -Psalm 27:4 AMP
David said he sought this one thing of the Lord.
I have this request too.
I imagine the tabernacle, knowing God has already torn the veil of separation through Jesus’s body. I want to bypass it all, all the form, all the ritual, all the religious nonsense and go straight into the chest of God and drink of the wine of his heart.
I want to know his inner thoughts, his emotions, his feelings, his mind, his very essence as intimately as his Holy Spirit.
I want people to look at me like they did the disciples on the day of Pentecost and see that I am drunk…not with the wine of the world, but the wine of his presence.
I am full and surrounded by the most pure, beautiful, powerful, amazing, intoxicating, clarifying, extravagant, enriching, life-giving, source and presence in all of existence…the love of God.
Father, I want to be so close to your thoughts that I can feel your breath coursing more deeply within me than my own blood.
I desire to fall in reverence under the brilliant splendor and beautiful weightiness of your holiness.
I long to know your divine truth in such a way that surrender is natural and easy. Because You are worthy of my daily surrender.
There is no treasure on earth worthy of more pursuit than You!
There is nothing more costly or precious than your Presence!
You are the King who breathes life into the dead. You are the Savior who laid down your life for your beloved.
You are unshakable living hope. You are everlasting security. You are profusely gracious and merciful. You are extravagantly giving and generous. You are full of sacrificial love!
You are eternal glory!
Whom have I in Heaven but You? And on earth, there is nothing that I desire besides You! -Psalm 73:25
You are worthy of my hearts’ affection!
You are worthy of my eternal devotion!
You alone are worthy!
Beautiful, wonderful, loving, glorious Jesus. Your presence is the cure for all of man’s woes.
I adore You!
King of all kings and Lord of all lords!
None can compare with You.
-If you enjoyed this prayer psalm, you may be refreshed by my book, Visions of Celestial Love (A Devotional Book to Draw You Closer to God’s Heart)
“Come, all you are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me and eat what is good, and you will delight in the richest of fare.” – Isaiah 55:1-2 NIV
Are you ready to taste of the sweet delicacies of God in a deeply reviving and personal way? For those who want to drink, for those who want to eat and be refreshed and renewed, Visions of Celestial Love is a feast between you and the King of Heaven, who loves you more than anyone else. He invites you to dine on wholesome, good, savory food and delicious, zesty, fruitful drink. He awaits you with a sparkle in His eye. He is ready for your company. He delights to have you as a guest.
“Eat, friends, and drink; drink your fill of love.” – Song of Songs 5:1 NIV
“When I read Visions of Celestial Love, it is as if I am brought down to my knees to worship. What the Holy Spirit has done in and through Ashley, He is doing also in me. What a wonderful experience. It is very rich. Thank you for sharing the treasure.”—Riko Suci Alam, CEO of Ligar Jaya and owner of Clove Garden hotel in Bandung Indonesia.
Have you ever thought about this, the Bible begins with a marriage relationship in a beautiful garden between Adam and Eve, and it ends with a divine marriage feast in Heaven between Christ and the church?
This is a glimmering preview into a new book idea I’ve had in my heart for several years now. This book is about preparing the hearts of God’s people for the Marriage Supper of the Lamb (Revelation 19:7). It is a prayerful and worshipful journey of mine to create words that make others thirsty for Jesus and to fall in love with Him. I often pray that the Holy Spirit would use me to woo the Bride of Christ back to Jesus. Just as the Spirit of God helped John the Baptist turn the hearts of the children back to their fathers, may He rise up within my heart to help the Bride of Christ return to her First Love. May you be blessed by this sneak peek:
-This book is artistically based off the Biblical writings of: Songs of Songs, Isaiah 54, Esther, Eden, Ezekiel 16, and finally the Marriage between Jesus and the Church in Revelation.
Eden scene:
“How come the King makes it so I am always attended?” I asked my attending angel.
“Because you are his royal wife.”
“We are not married yet.”
“In your carnal mind time still exists.” He said without condemnation or rudeness, “You forget that the Word says the Lamb was slain before the foundation of the world. Before Adam sinned in this Paradise, Christ had already become the sin offering.” (Revelation 13:8)
I (Ariel, name meaning, Jerusalem) remembered that God symbolically showed Adam and Eve the promise of his eternal redemption through Christ when He slaid an animal to cover them with its skin. He covered their shame. He paid for their sin. He kept them warm…all with that one act to show them divine grace, mercy and sacrificial love. But it came at an ugly cost…the cost of innocent blood. (Genesis 3:21)
“It doesn’t seem like death could have ever happened in such a beautiful place as this…” I whispered thoughtfully.
The garden was vibrant with flowers and fruit and vegetables bright like polychromatic gems. Sparkling mist rose from the foundations of Eden like clouds of cream. The etherealness of it reminded me of the slow dancing clouds that descend like steaming, gauzy sheets of vapor over the amazon rainforests.
The rivers of Eden could be heard everywhere. The sound of moving water pleasantly rushed around my ears as if I were canoeing on streams with the clearest crystal waters fresher than artic rivers. One river had flecks of gold chaffing so plentiful that the gold clustered smoothly on river stones and when aureate sunlight graced the waters it gleamed so brilliantly it was like light on mirrors, refracting the brightest yellow.
I knelt by this heavenly river, feeling the soft, moist turf cushioning my knees. As I cupped this water in my hand, fine gold settled to the bottom of my palms like light glitter floating in water and it covered my skin completely like a layer of metallic lotion after the water had dripped from my hands. (Genesis 2:10-14)
All of the animals glowed like moonlight. They seemed to be infused with an otherworldly presence…as if divinity had been sewed into the delicate weaving ladder of their DNA. They were full of life. Holy life. They were full of peace. They never harmed one another. They lived in harmony with the earth and all of creation around them. Even through them, I saw Him. (Romans 8:20-23, Isaiah 11:6-9)
He was inescapable…
Even when He went off to judge, to reign, to deliver, to conquer and to rule as the mighty King of kings, and Lord of lords …He was always still with me. (Matthew 28:20, 1 Corinthians 6: 19-20)
In my own heart, I tasted the fragrance of his pure presence. His loving faithfulness was transcendent. Not even death could overpower or diminish it. (2 Corinthians 2:15)
It was like I was in a dream. Or a dream of a dream. But at the same time, no fantasy or dream, could come close to matching the beauty of Paradise. Undefiled, unadulterated…Eden. The highest hopes of man paled in comparison to the dreams of God.
In some ways, I felt like Esther, living within the gilded fortress and walls of the king’s magnificent palace, and his subsequent beautiful mansions speckling around his main palace. Within this main gate was his royal court made of pearl floors almost as clear as glass with thick curvy pillars crested and belted with rose gold that flamed into an amber color when torchlight came near.
All of this was encircled with water and delightful gardens rich with life, fruit, exotic animals, jewels, and every good delight known to man. Between two of these gardens was the king’s lush vineyard where grapes more aromatic than flowers grew in iridescent rows of emerald leafy vines….
The [Holy] Spirit and the bride (the church, believers) say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who wishes take and drink the water of life without cost. -Revelation 22:17 AMP
"Ashley Thompson’s book, Visions of Celestial Love is just that, a visionary work of epic proportions. It is glimpses into a loving and remarkable relationship with the creator of the universe. You are invited to Dive into stories of love and compassion, healing and provision, loss and recovery, profound grace and faith. Ashley draws us in with her descriptive prose and unique style of writing. There are so many stories to relate to in this book and I’m sure you will find your own story among the many that are told here. So, find your favorite spot, your favorite beverage, and curl up with “Visions of Celestial Love”!" -Amazon Reviewer
"Romantic Rendezvous is a beautiful invitation into intimacy with Jesus! Ashley has done a masterful job of creating stories that depict the heart of the Father. I have truly been blessed by this book! As I read each story, I felt the closeness of Jesus and had continual reminders of how deep the Fathers love is for me. From the very first chapter, I felt the flame of my heart be rekindled with God's goodness and love. This book is a must read!" -Amazon Reviewer
Worship Him
He’s so beautiful, isn’t He? Look at Him, the desire of the nations. The world trembles for his presence again. (I don’t own any rights to this beautiful music or video):
She grew up in church and has never been in a relationship, he’s a prestigious male model with a scarlet past on a search for redemption…
~This is a snippet of part 4 to my short story series on Trisha and Noble (A godly romance for teens and young adults). To read part one, Salvation at Snow Café, click here or to purchase part one and two, in my book, Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul,click here.
Every day for two weeks my cell phone rang almost constantly, and my emails filled with messages from people who sought to pull me back to my past. I knew I needed to cut my contract with Anthony if I truly wanted to be free from these incessant invitations, but I was hesitant.
Old temptations and new temptations presented themselves daily. Even in church, I found myself being watched by young women who were modest enough to never solicitate me but found it difficult to ignore my presence in the room. Susan, a young woman I met during my time in the gym, was particularly bold in her flirtations with me. She was a shapely blonde with icy blue eyes like my own and lips the color of pink roses. I did my best to ignore her and predict the times she wouldn’t be in the gym so I could avoid her.
At least four times a week, I paid a visit to my parents. Daily I spoke with pastor Thomas. We just finished reading the book of 1st Corinthians together. I found chapter 7 particulalry interesting and pastor Thomas lingered longer on this chapter with me. He read with conviction as we sat over strong coffee and a delicious breakfast his wife Meg had prepared.
“…because there is so much sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife, and each woman should have her own husband…the husband should fulfill his wife’s sexual needs, and the wife should fulfill her husband’s needs…”
I took a bite of seasoned poached eggs and crispy bacon. I was surprised to find such detailed instructions about sex in the Bible. I observed pastor Thomas as he read and was happily surprised when I saw he had not a hint of an embarrassed blush or hesitancy. He read comfortably.
“…do not deprive each other of sexual relations, unless you both agree to refrain from sexual intimacy for a limited time so you can give yourselves more completely to prayer. Afterward, you should come together again so that Satan won’t be able to tempt you because of your lack of self-control…”
My interest peaked and I interrupted his reading, “Can I ask you an honest question?”
He lifted his eyes from the Bible and replied, “of course. Ask me anything you’d like.”
I half-smiled, “is it common for Christians to abstain from sex with their spouses because of prayer?”
He shrugged, “some people do.”
My smile slowly dwindled as I voiced my next question, “As the prayer pastor, do you fast from sex very often and how does your wife feel about that?”
Pastor Thomas didn’t blink or flinch in reaction, “she and I always agree before we fast. Sometimes the church holds a congregrational fast where everyone fasts. It doesn’t have to be from sex. Sometimes people fast certain foods or drinks. Sometimes people fast from social media or doing certain activities. My wife and I chose when to fast from sex and instead of using the time we would normally have dates with or sex with…we pray together. So instead of becoming physically one we become one spiritually as we agree in prayer together…”
Meg, who was standing in the kitchen came with a fresh pot of coffee and creamer to refill our mugs. She was plain but pretty. Her pale straw blonde hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and she had sea green eyes. Her face had a few fine lines from her seasoned years and when she smiled, crows’ feet wrinkles edged her eyes drawing further attention to the aquamarine gleaming color around her irises. “It might be hard to believe,” she began as she refilled our coffee, “but spending time together in prayer with my husband is emotionally and spiritually fulfilling for us. We recenter ourselves, we often have great conversations that help us come into agreement mentally and I like it just as much as having sex…if not more.”
Pastor Thomas winked, “I like it almost as much but not quite.”
I chortled at his confession before thanking Meg for sharing.
Pastor Thomas continued with the chapter. The portion about Paul’s instructions to the singles in the city of Corinth also caught my attention. I was a little perturbed when Paul advised the singles to stay single so that they could be fully devoted to God and not worry about the crisis facing the church during his day. Pastor Thomas explained some things about the terrible persecution Christians faced during those days and it made sense to me afterward why Paul would give such advice.
“…if they can’t control themselves, they should go ahead and marry. It’s better to marry than to burn with lust…if a man thinks that he’s treating his fiancée improperly and will inevitably give in to his passion, let him marry her as he wishes. It is not a sin…”
I chewed my food and thought about the last things pastor Thomas read.
“Do you have any questions?” he asked, seeing I was deep in thought.
I took a swig of water to wash down my food, “it seems like Paul encouraged married life for those who can’t control their bodily desires.”
Pastor Thomas nodded, “your assessment is generally correct. But I want to add an important note that there’s a great difference between lust and love. The Bible tells you to flee from youthful lusts but not to flee from love. If you really love someone, you will want to protect them, you wouldn’t want to do anything selfish to dishonor them or tempt them to break God’s law.”
I glanced out the window, thinking of how God had enabled me by his grace and Spirit to keep myself from falling sexually. However, I wasn’t sure how long it would last. I was a little worried about being able to keep this new rule.
“How did you keep yourself from sex before marriage?” I asked.
“It wasn’t always easy,” pastor Thomas began. He ate a bite of food before continuing, “thankfully I had a great church community, my parents were strong Christians, and we openly discussed these things. I gave myself boundaries to keep myself from situations where I knew I would be tempted.”
“Care to give an example?”
“Sure. For example, I never rode in a car with the opposite sex. On missions’ trips, I always stayed in separate housing for men only. I had a great group of guy friends, and we kept each other accountable. I did many things to prevent myself from falling this way. Elders in the church surrounded me…”
I interjected, “Most people don’t follow such puritanic rules like that pastor. And even if they did, even fewer have the support system that you did.” I gave a wry half-smile. I was doubtful his method of abstinence was realistic.
Pastor Thomas spoke up, “most people aren’t following Jesus like a real disciple. They have yet to decide to take up their cross, deny themselves and follow him as Lord. Most people accept him as Savior and leave the lordship aspect behind because it’s so contrarian and opposite of our democratic system and culture. They don’t understand what it’s like to serve a king so willingly and completely,” he took a generous drink of coffee and set down his large mug. I felt a sense of conviction rise from within me at his words.
His face took on a more somber tone, “unfortunately, your last statement is true. I wish more Christians had the support system the Bible talks about. Jesus taught and did life with his disciples. They had close and frequent fellowship.”
“So that’s why you’re so involved with all the young adults at church?”
Pastor Thomas nodded again, “yes. At least the ones who profess they want to seriously follow Jesus.”
We ate some bites of food before he spoke again, “to finish answering your original question of how I avoided sex before marriage. The most important thing I did was develop my own personal relationship with Jesus Christ. I fell in love with God and grew in prayer, grace and wisdom.”
His statements struck me, “how do you fall in love with God?”
He smiled, “you spend time with him. You communicate with him and learn how to hear his communication.”
“That sounds like something Trisha told me.”
We finished our breakfast and discussed another time to meet up for Bible reading. It had been a fourteen-day journey. And every Bible study, Thomas would ask me if I was ready to choose Jesus above my attraction to my past and the trappings of it. Every time I responded without complete surety. I wanted Jesus. I wanted to grow in Him. I also hated some of his rules and the restrictions I had recently discovered in the Bible.
Yet, I was attracted to him. I was attracted to him as eyes naturally gravitate toward light. I had grown close to Thomas, and I admired him more than I admired any male figure I had ever known. In all our meetings, Thomas treated me with a distinction I couldn’t put my finger on. He wasn’t quite a father figure, but neither was our relationship like peers or friends. He wasn’t totally like a mentor, but I always learned something when we were together. He was straight shooter with me but somehow always kind.
I wanted what Thomas had: integrity, holiness, joy, peace, clear conviction, a clean conscious, a noble soul, and a deep connection with God as I had never known. But I also wanted to appease my flesh. I wanted to control my money. I wanted to travel where I wanted when I wanted. I still wanted to be free to live my life on my own terms. And I also wanted Trisha and was mad that God had placed such a hard line in her life regarding relationships. For several nights, I dreamed of her warm cinnamon eyes and a dull ache always accompanied. I felt hungry for more in our relationship.
-To explore the beginning of Trisha and Noble’s romance, check out my book, Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul. You can also find snippets of their story in my blog page by looking up their names in the search bar.
“This was the most captivating, read I had in a while. It warmed my heart, made me feel loved, and gave me a desire to want a more intimate relationship.”- Starlyn, Amazon Reviewer
~I wrote this scene in the revised version of my book, Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul, to honor the woman who has loved me like a spiritual mother. She is a living display of God’s unconditional love and grace in the lives of others. And I truly believe the words that I wrote in this scene were inspired and reflect a small sample of God’s love and delight in her. Enjoy!
Chapter 12
“For who is greater? He who is reclining (at meat), or he who is ministering? Is it not he who is reclining (at meat)? And I — I am in your midst as he who is ministering.” —Luke 22:27 YLT
Angel began saying grace. “Heavenly Father, thank you for this meal that we are about to receive. We pray that it will bring nourishment to our bodies. God, we ask that as we eat and converse that our speech will be pleasing to you. Let it be like Christ is in the midst of us, edifying us all with his presence, truth, and love. We love you Father, and we thank you for all of our blessings. I ask that you especially bless this young man who came so quickly to our aid this morning and offered to fix our pipes for free. Multiply the goodness that he has shown us back to him a hundred-fold. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“Amen,” Jesus said, and I echoed the same.
Angel lifted a spoonful of fish to her mouth.
I broke off a piece of bread and nibbled on it.
“You remember Daniel?” Jesus asked Angel.
“Daniel…the prophet?” Angel asked slowly between bites.
“Yes, him.”
“I remember certain things about him, yes,” she chuckled nervously. “This isn’t a Bible quiz or anything like that is it?”
“Oh no. No quiz.”
Angel swallowed. “Okay, good. What about Daniel?”
“He was called greatly beloved of God by the angel who was carrying a message for him.”[i]
Angel nodded and took up another bite of fish. Her facial expression lifted with pleasure as the taste of fish touched her palate.
“You were right,” she said and sucked wet fish sauce off her fingers. “The sumac adds something special to the boiled fish. It’s perfect.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Jesus said, and then cleared his throat before continuing on. “The angel told him that God heard him the first time he asked for the message, even though it was delayed in coming.”
Once again, Angel nodded.
“Angel,” Jesus said, turning toward her intently, “your prayers are so valued by our Father that even before you ask, he answers them. He anticipates the desires of your heart and he moves to act on your behalf.”
Angel stopped chewing and her eyes locked on Jesus’ face.
Jesus didn’t delay but continued unabashed, “Your heart is the home of his Son. You are his temple, his daughter. When you ask for something, you have the power to persuade his heart, simply because of his great love for you and because your desires are pure. You have served him well by washing the feet of his children. As I said earlier, you are pretty famous in the Father’s house.”
Angel stiffened and I couldn’t read her face because her back was turned to me. Before long, I noticed the quivering of her shoulders, and soon I heard a soft cry. Her glasses fogged up and she removed them from the bridge of her nose, which was lightly speckled with cinnamon brown freckles. She shakily wiped at her lenses with the edge of her robe.
“I would ask you how you know these things. Are you a prophet?”
“No,” Jesus said with an endearing smile on his face. “You know that’s not true. You knew who I was when you let me in your house. Don’t give in to the doubts that block out your child-like faith.”
Angel’s hands stilled. She let her glasses lay in her lap before wiping away the tears gathering in her chestnut brown eyes.
“You know me really well,” Jesus said, and took hold of one of her hands. Their bronze complexions almost matched, except her skin was more darkly hued. He folded his hand over hers and stroked the surface of her hand with his thumb. Angel covered her mouth with her free hand to stifle her cries.
I was beginning to think Jesus had this effect on everyone.
After several minutes of trying to compose herself, Angel managed a low mutter. “Lord?” She looked him up and down before her eyes shifted over his face. “Is it really you?”
“Yes,” Jesus said, his smile bright. “Earlier, you prayed that I would be in your midst…I Am.”[ii]
Angel took his hand up and kissed his fingers reverently before pushing her chair back. It made a scraping noise. She moved to bow at his feet. Surprisingly he let her and with one hand he made a smooth stroke of her hair. She pressed her forehead to the cold sand-tan tile and her hot tears fell.
Jesus’ visage shone down upon her and then he looked upon me, “She is one of those who wears an invisible crown on her head. For when I was hungry she fed me, when I was thirsty she gave me something to drink, when I was a stranger she invited me in, when I needed clothes she clothed me, when I was sick she looked after me, and when I was in prison she visited me.[iii] She did all of this by loving on others in my name and trusting me to be her strength.”
Angel’s clothing altered and I saw that she was in a pure white dress fit for a queenly bride. The multiple skirts of her gown had whimsical layers. Each layer had a unique glory of its own—almost as if they represented different seasons in her walk with Jesus. I tried to count the airy folds, but they were too many. Tiny flakes of melted white gold glimmered in her gown. A sash, the gossamer color of golden beryl, was draped across her right shoulder and curved left to her waist. It was beatific.
An equal colorful crown rested on her nutmeg brown hair. She had a single gold chain tied around her neck, which hung like a huge tear drop. Inside the tear drop was a sapphire blue gem, the reflective color of the heavens.
From within her belly, I saw what appeared like rivers of water coursing in circles. It was living water with life in itself. It was building in speed and mass. Prompted and inspired by the Holy Spirit within her, Angel began to sing in tongues—it was the most beautiful song. I felt goosebumps break out on my legs and arms as I realized that she was worshipping in Spirit and in truth. As her heavenly language poured forth from her lips, the blue gemstone necklace began to radiate and I saw the rivers of Spirit water begin to flow from her body.
After clasping Jesus’ ankles and kissing his feet, she bent her head back to look up at him.
He cupped her face and kissed her forehead, “Arise, my beloved, my dove, my fair one.”[iv] He released her face, took hold of her by the elbows, and helped her to her feet. She retrieved her specks from the chair and sat down.
When she moved to brush off an airy piece of chair fabric lint from her glasses, I noticed she was blind to the spiritual frock she was clothed in. I wondered why it was masked from her vision, but seen by me?
I wanted her to know how spotlessly adorned she really was, but when I caught sight of Jesus I knew that my questions could wait.
“I’ve sat at this kitchen table with you many times, Angel, and I’ve enjoyed every second that you’ve sought my face. Not one minute has ever gone to waste or been unnoticed.”
“I always knew you were with me, even if I couldn’t sense it.”
Or see it, I thought.
“Truly, you have given my heart much pleasure and you’ve ministered to me many times through your surrender and purity.”
The chai began to boil and then foam in the pot on the stove. Tiny milky bronze bubbles started to rise, permeating the air with sweet and spicy aroma. I stood and hastily made my way to the stove to turn off the burner before the tea boiled over.
I retrieved two café au lait mugs made of smooth green ceramic before pouring Angel and Jesus a cup.
My hands began trembling as I made my way back to the table. I set their tea down beside them, grateful that I hadn’t spilled it.
There was a holy weight in the air. My knees felt a little heavy as I went back in the heart of the kitchen to get myself a cup.
Angel was beaming and she couldn’t even see it.
I managed to pour myself some of the fragrant tea without spilling. When I neared my chair, I almost buckled into it. I let my head rest in my hand and chose to enjoy the presence of the Holy Spirit, who was filling the room.
It felt like a river was lapping at my feet, but when I glanced down, all I saw was the tile flooring.
My thoughts drifted like autumn leaves to the scriptures in First Kings that spoke of the dedication of the temple. I remembered that the cloud of God’s presence filled the chambers, so the priests couldn’t even stand to minister, for the glory of the Lord diffused the very air.[v]
Indeed, Angel was truly a priest unto God, living out a seemingly plain life that was drenched with charitable deeds. She was known by her goodness and generosity to many.
“Do you smell that? The smoke?” Jesus asked her.
Angel glanced up, as did I, to find that we were all inside a cloud. She took a long inhale and slowly released air.
She nodded, clearly liking the aroma.
“It’s all your good deeds. These have risen to the Father as a holy, sweet incense. It is more pleasing to him than you understand.” Jesus’ warm eyes glimmered. “Angel, you have tapped into a tender part of our Father’s heart. You have discovered that love is the most excellent way.[vi]
“Indeed, while some have sought the miraculous and searched for signs, you have sought the most valuable thing—the love of God. And in doing so, you have really sought God, for he is love.[vii] Truly, where miracles and wonders cannot change the hearts of men, take Israel in the desert for example, consistent godly love can.
“Love never fails. It has the power to do what miracles cannot. It transforms the heart. It opens up the hearts of men to see me and my Father as we are. Therefore, it softens and enriches the soils of people’s hearts to receive grace and truth by faith…and thus live. Your love has opened the hearts of many to receive the seed of my Word.
“Love is the purest catalyst for miracles and the reason behind every miracle I ever performed. Your lifestyle of good deeds points back to the Father’s heart and many cannot deny he exists, because of your example.
“And while miracles are important, and many of my brothers have disregarded the precious gift of healing that I died for, you have found the way that fulfills all the law and the prophets.
“What you have done in Noelani’s life and the life of many of my people will never go unrewarded. You have surely been a priest by serving my people and reflecting me to them.”
Overcome now, Angel buried her face in her hands. She sobbed and laughed simultaneously.
To check out the original version of, Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul, click here.
“This book is filled with amazing love stories. These stories bring hope to the deepest part of your heart and soul. The writer keeps you engaged so much that it’s as if you are there experiencing the emotions and feelings of the characters. Your heart will race. Your heart will flutter. You’ll feel the presence of the king. You’ll find yourself falling more and more in love with Jesus as you realize and experience the unending love he has for you.
If you’re struggling with your relationship with Jesus, this book is for you.
If you are grounded and solid in your relation with Jesus, this book is for you.
If you want to know him … it’s for you. If you are seeking love ….start here.” –Pastor Irene Torres,Marriage and Family pastor at Our Father’s House church. Irene carries a powerful testimony of family restoration and transformation. Her passion is to help families build strong and healthy relationships that prosper in unity. Irene carries a gifting to help others see God’s glory inside themselves so they too can rise up and live to bring God glory. Irene has a Bachelors in Christian Leadership and a Masters in Governmental Development.
The rich truth in Jesus’s words began settling over me like a weighty revelation. For a moment, I stared at a stately marble pillar decorated with a large ruby. Flames from nearby heat lamps danced on the glassy surface of the ruby like burning carmine and gold stars.
Jesus grabbed one of my hands with one of his, before completely covering it with his other hand. The feeling of his large palm over my skin was comforting. I studied the terrain of his swarthy skin with my sensors and experienced the paradox of toughness and gentleness in his touch. His palm carried the callouses of carpentry as well as the softness of a Healer.
Temporarily putting my question aside, Jesus stated soothingly, “The fertile soil of your heart has already been made wet with my presence. Your heart is a garden that only needs to receive the healing words that I speak.”
“Healing,” I whispered, mostly to myself as a broken place in my heart called out. I winced in pain and patted my heart with my free hand as if to comfort the splintered place.
Jesus continued with a compassionate look in his eyes, “You cannot ignore nor belittle the damage that’s been done to your heart through lies and wounding experiences. Nor should you berate your heart by condemning it for hurting. Your heart is my treasure.”
“But the hurt is still there.”
“I know my dear, that’s why I’ve come. My compassions are kindled together for you.”
I didn’t fully believe his words, so I unconsciously began to turn away from his gaze. I felt sorry for giving him a cold shoulder. I willed myself to face him again but some sinister lie in my mind fought against it. Outside of myself, the same unwelcome presence that had followed me for months hovered near, feeding this lie.
“I am not what religion has taught you. I do not look upon a wounded person in a ditch and sneer at them with consternation and ask, ‘Where is your faith?’ I do not jeer at the bruised. I will not break a bruised reed, nor will I snuff out a smoldering wick.[i] I am not cold nor indifferent. Don’t put any pressure on your heart that I don’t place there.”
I faced him now, “It’s so hard for me to not pressure myself, because I genuinely want to be perfect for you. I want to be everything that you deserve and a daughter who always pleases her heavenly Father.”
“You are already pleasing to me. You don’t have to deserve me or any part of your heavenly inheritance in me. Father has already qualified you to share in this blessing along with all the saints.[ii] All you must do is repent by believing you already are all these things in me. You’ve been re-created in me and born of our Father’s Spirit. You have been given freedom. You just haven’t accepted it yet.”
“It’s that kind of faith that seems so impossible for me to reach. Because I feel I must somehow earn it in order to be it.”
“Do you remember when I told you on our drive to the lake that faith works by love?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“A lack of faith in Father is simply a result of lovelessness. You don’t believe how much he loves you. Neither do you fully believe my finished work in making you holy before our Father.”
“After all you’ve done, both tonight and over two thousand years ago, it’s amazing to me, in the worst possible way, that I still don’t believe the way you love me. I must need a lot more healing than I realized.”
“Yes, you do. But that’s why I came to you tonight. It’s also why I came for you over two thousand years ago. Your need does not intimidate me like it does you. It excites me because my supply is far greater than any need you have, and I look forward to fulfilling it. I’m looking forward to your future with much anticipation.”
“That makes one of us,” I said heavily before explaining myself. “I haven’t looked forward to the future much this year.”
“I know,” Jesus said compassionately. “I am excited for the continual healing that is coming your way.” He smiled with a look of great hope in his eyes.
“I thought I needed faith first in order for you to heal me?” I voiced, feeling like I kept ping-ponging the same question using different verbiage.
“You’ve been given a measure of faith according to my word.”
“Wait, I don’t have enough faith to be your bride and fully surrender to the Truth, yet I have enough faith for you to heal my heart?”
“If your heart is healed you will accept my proposal and surrender. Faith for healing is the starting place for you. A whole heart is capable of living fearlessly. Let me heal you by your continually feeding on my truth and abiding in my presence. My love will go into every cracked place and bind together the broken places. Think of my love as curative sap entering into the aching and burned places to restore and piece together. This ministry of healing is just as important as physical healing. As Isaiah wrote, the Spirit of the Lord God is upon me because the Lord has anointed me to bind up the broken hearted.[iii] So, let me love you for as long as it takes. I plan on loving you for eternity. Why should you lack patience with yourself about your faith when I don’t?”
My lips slowly smeared into a smile like butter on hot bread.
“I shouldn’t,” I said, feeling a small bit of relief.
Jesus smiled as well and lifted his hand to caress my cheek, “That’s right, beloved. Besides, I am the author and completer of your faith.[iv] You need only to spend time with me and continually receive my word for your faith to be energized. Guilt and condemnation diminish faith, whereas love quickens it.”[v]
What moved you most in this chapter? Why? Have you ever felt the need to compare yourself with others—what they are able to offer Jesus (the analogy of crowns in this chapter) only to discover that all Jesus really wants is more of you? True treasures are only offered through his grace.
Who or what are you trusting in the most right now? (“The only perfection required is trust and willingness. Who and what you trust will always be who you follow. In essence, your god…and you will always find your safety in it.”)
In what ways has your faith been quickened and energized by the love of God? In what ways has your faith been diminished through condemnation? Ask God to show you more of his love in a way that quickens your faith.
If Jesus personally proposed to you, would you say yes? Would you be willing to throw off your old identity and truly live from his perspective of you?
Scripture Meditation: “For the mind set on the flesh is death, but the mind set on the Spirit is life and peace.” (Romans 8:6 NASB)
This snippet was adapted from the unrevised version of my book, Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul. To dive deeper into its intimate pages, click here.
“This book is simply wonderful. Deliciously descriptive, it nourishes the soul with fresh revelation of God’s love for humanity. This collection of short stories may challenge your thinking about what true intimacy looks like, while making your heart yearn to daily experience the Perfect Love described within its pages. It invites you into a world created by Love Himself, where there’s no mistaking that His love is not only unconditional and never-failing, but also deeply personal and precious to Him. Get ready to experience the purpose, pleasure, and power of real love!” -Amazon Reviewer
“What makes your beloved better than any other? What is it about him…?” – Jerusalem Maiden, Brides-to-Be
—Song of Songs 5:9b TPT
Vaporous spicy aromas licked the air with heat. Warm ginger mingled with clove. Pine kissed ground coffee scents. Chai danced with vanilla. And nutmeg blended with buttery pear creating a bath of incense. A group of teenagers sat on a plush, ruby red sofa drinking piquant drinks from decorative mugs. They shared headphones and watched videos on their laptops, which were resting on their legs. An old couple sharing a booth, sat across from one another talking. The wife reached a pale, trembling hand over her husband’s tan, leathery one. His opaque eyes misted as he looked upon her, and I felt his ripe love for her like hot honey in my chest. Some young adults were seated around a wooden oval table doing homework. I guessed they were all a part of a study group. Still there were others scattered about. I passed by a small girl with pigtails happily eating a lemon tart dessert.
When Jesus walked in, I expected him to stand on a table and evangelize. Instead, he walked right up to the counter to greet a comely barista. Her thick, brown hair was weaved in the back and hung like glossy rope with tawny blonde highlights. She had clear green eyes like olive oil and lips the color of crushed raspberries.
“Good evening, sir. How may I help you?” she asked perfunctorily.
She looked frazzled and her day must have been long, for although she looked at Jesus, she didn’t see him. He was just another customer. It was almost as if her pretty eyes were shuttered by the repetitive routine of work. She glanced at me and asked the same question before her eyes fell to the cash register, ready to proceed with her normal protocol.
I ordered an apple spice tea with sweet buttercream drizzle. “Good choice,” she said without feeling.
Jesus remained silent for a few seconds. His eyes scanned her as she stared at the cash register waiting for him to order next. She glanced up at him when he said nothing.
“What would you recommend, Diane?” he asked, with deeply compassionate eyes and a warm smile. I knew he asked that question only to rouse her.
Her eyes quickened slightly, and her shoulders perked up. “That depends. How are you feeling?”
Jesus answered with a bright smile, “I’m feeling like I could use something with a kick of zest in it.”
The corners of Diane’s lips slightly lifted at his charming and welcoming visage. “We have pineapple tea with ginger root. That usually provides a nice kick.”
“That sounds good, but I’d like to hear other options.”
Diane began to read off to Jesus a list of other teas and coffees that were energy boosters. She went through the entire list before he asked, “Which ones are your favorites? For those nights where you need a booster?”
Diane chortled softly. “It would be the spiked cider or the whiskey Irish creamed coffee,” she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “But if you’re looking for a nonalcoholic solution, I’d recommend the hot chocolate supreme. It has a few shots of caffeine.”
By this time my tea was finished, and I picked up my order before finding a nearby table. I knew Jesus was ministering to Diane.
“What if I didn’t want anything with alcohol or caffeine in it?” Jesus asked, his demeanor still warm.
“Then the pineapple ginger is your best bet, but you can choose from these other teas,” she said fingering a few, her eyes fixed on the list. “Like I said it really just depends on how you feel.”
“How do you feel?” Jesus asked her.
His question surprised her, and I noted a flicker of shock cross her face before she masked it with her customary employee visage.
“I feel like I could use a booster myself,” she said politely.
“I know a booster that you can’t get in a tea or a coffee or anything material but it always works. And I’d like to give it to you if you’re willing.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “It always works?”
Jesus gave a gentle laugh. “It hasn’t failed yet. Millions of people who’ve had this would tell you so, from centuries ago to modern day, from all around the world to right in this city.”
“How much is it?”
“It’s completely free.”
Diane’s eyebrows creased slightly, and she tilted her head trying to discern Jesus. Nothing but waves of love came off him. She glimpsed around. Everyone had been served, and her fellow co-worker had gone into the kitchen.
“What is it?” she asked, partly suspicious.
“Not what, but who.”
Misunderstanding his intent, Diane stated, “I have a boyfriend.”
Jesus nodded. “I know you do, and I’m not coming onto you if that’s what you’re thinking…at least not in that way.”
Diane pressed her lips together. “Then…?”
“It’s Jesus.”
Diane rolled her eyes. “Please, sir, I’ve had enough of religious jargon. And I’m too old to believe or be humored by fairy tales.”
“I would disagree,” Jesus said kindly.
“What would you like to drink?” Diane asked, cutting him off.
“Humor me for a moment, Diane.”
Diane gave an audible sigh and then shrugged. She stared him up and down again before her demeanor softened. “Okay,” she said cautiously.
“I don’t doubt that you’ve had enough of religious jargon. I’ve had enough of it myself. But I do question whether or not you’re being truthful about fairy tales.”
Diane arched an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms.
Jesus continued, “Think of it. Most movies are composed of fairy tales, even the action ones. There’s some level of magic in them—of superhuman strength, of beauty, of endurance, of ideal romance, of triumph and adventure beyond common life. Most songs consist of a yearning for superhuman love. Many best-selling books are littered with these noble ideas that are often fleeting in human experience, yet they are an ever-constant source of ache and desire in the human heart.”
Diane’s lips untightened and her arms slowly uncrossed.
Jesus expounded, “If those aren’t fairy tales, then I don’t know what is. Every human heart longs to experience something more than the dreariness of life. That’s why people stuff themselves with fancies, be it food, relationships, temporary thrills like theme parks, drugs, movies, vacations, promotions, possessions, whatever it be. The soul of man knows there’s something more that it was created for, and so most people numb this yearning by stuffing it with entertainment. The only problem is,” he paused, and his eyes deepened; “Is that they’re trying to fill an eternal ache with temporary things. Worldly things can never mask heavenly desire. Many have tried, and all of them have failed. Do you not find yourself entertained by these things, Diane?”
When Diane didn’t answer, Jesus replied, “I know you do.” His tone was thick with bowls of compassion that rose like sweet fragrance.
“Well, religious people entertain themselves with rules and criticizing others. At least ‘secular’ people seek happiness over hate,” Diane retorted. Although her facial expression was defiant, her voice was strained, and I caught a glimpse of sorrow in her eyes before she drew it back.
Jesus reached out to Diane with such compassion that I felt a lump rise to my throat.
“Religious people do. You’re right. And I’m sorry for everyone that has hurt you. Truly, I am. Many people are so busy making religion their god that they don’t allow God in their religion. Turns out religion is much more easily manageable than God. Those people you speak of are afraid. They may not even know it, but they are. Pride is a form of fear. They seek control, perfection, a way to escape chaos. They are desperate to measure up for fear of rejection, failure, exposure, whatever the fear is. They have so many layers of behavior modifications and thought processes piled on top of their fear that they can’t even detect it. They look to somehow redeem themselves. But there is only one Redeemer. There is only one love that casts out all fear and those who have that are not religious. That’s what I want to offer you tonight.”
Jesus paused and stared deeply into her eyes. “Diane, the happiness that people seek is Jesus. Eternal happiness can be found in nothing else.”
Diane’s eyes watered and she closed them. Her breath shook a little as she tried to compose herself, “You speak as if you know him. No Christian has ever spoken to me like that.”
Jesus reached out and gently touched her arm. She collapsed into tears at his warm touch, and I knew she was feeling his love for the first time. It was as if the pores of her skin opened up to his liquid love. Diane covered her face with her hands and tried hard not to weep so loudly.
Customers noticed and passed curious glances. Some seemed concerned that whoever was touching her had somehow hurt her, but their thoughts quickly turned when he lifted his hand and caressed the side of her face. Diane grabbed and then pressed his hand against her cheek with hers. Her teeth clenched as she sobbed.
“Do you feel that?” Jesus asked, his voice rough with emotion.
“It’s like fire in my heart,” she sobbed, choking on tears. Her skin became damp with sweat from crying so hard and from the heat of his love. Her smooth skin reddened until her nose was like plumb sauce. Her tears, snot, and saliva got on Jesus’ hand, but it didn’t bother him. He was smiling. He was happy and content…
For centuries, the female heart has burned with desire for the lasting pleasure of unchanging love. In the course of time, civilizations have risen and fallen, yet the longing for tangible intimacy has never faded. Millions of lyrics have been written to the passionate tune of this fluid yearning.
Unfortunately, few people find the lasting love they’ve longed for, even as children. Life, education, and societal pressures transform what was once a tangible hope into a mythical fairy tale. Industries have reaped unlimited monetary gain from the erosion of this hope. Billions of girls grow up to become women who have long since tossed their dreams of true love in the trash bin of cynicism. Countless others have buried their ache of unmet desire under the disappointment of failed relationships and hopelessness.
Despite most women’s best attempts, this starved craving remains alive, like a stimulating aroma. This ethereal hope goes back to the first relationship, in a place of being so “seen” and “lovingly known” that “she” was naked and unashamed.
This novella was not written to add salt to the gaping wound of unsatisfied need. It was written to satisfy the need completely. Let Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul introduce you to a lasting relationship with Transcendent Love, where reality becomes sweeter than your dreams.
You are the summation of my hearts deepest desires.
Your gaze feeds my soul more than a feast.
I follow you, thirsting for a drink from the living well.
I picture you as a king, bronze in skin, with a crown of many crowns on your head of finest gold. Your eyes, warmer than cinnamon, your compassion is hotter than the sun. Your robe glistens like freshly falling snow and reflects light like silver. A royal sash is draped across your robe.
You walk through a crowd and I walk across from you, my eyes transfixed on your illuminous smile. I stare at you behind tall lite lampstands with flickering amber flames.
I gaze through the lattice catching glimpses of you. -Song of Songs 2:9
I am enthralled.
My heart is captivated.
The crowds follow you…for you are transcendent beauty, pure love, holy light, liberating truth.
Your heartbeat is the beat of eternity.
Your voice echoes like rolling thunder, the base of your tenor is deeper than the oceans.
I orbit you unconsciously as the planets are pulled by the innate power and gravity of the sun.
I can’t help myself.
Nothing and no one is like you.
Absolutely perfect in love, abundant in grace, great in faithfulness, plentiful in mercy, pouring with healing, lavish in mercy, sweet in soul…you are kind beyond comprehension.
Your loving-kindness is better than life. -Psalm 63:3
I could never find another like you Lord.
I could sing forever.
I could dance without end.
The breath that comes from your lips is more life-giving than the air in my lungs…
Oh my Lord.
Oh my Dear.
Oh my Savior.
Oh my God .
I am lovesick for you and yet satisfied by your holy love.
I am pressing the grapes of my heart’s affection and creating the fragrant wine of worship …a drink offering to my Savior…
And we drink together in holy communion at the table inside of me where He dwells.
For centuries, the female heart has burned with desire for the lasting pleasure of unchanging love. In the course of time, civilizations have risen and fallen, yet the longing for tangible intimacy has never faded. Millions of lyrics have been written to the passionate tune of this fluid yearning.
Unfortunately, few people find the lasting love they’ve longed for, even as children. Life, education, and societal pressures transform what was once a tangible hope into a mythical fairy tale. Industries have reaped unlimited monetary gain from the erosion of this hope. Billions of girls grow up to become women who have long since tossed their dreams of true love in the trash bin of cynicism. Countless others have buried their ache of unmet desire under the disappointment of failed relationships and hopelessness.
Despite most women’s best attempts, this starved craving remains alive, like a stimulating aroma. This ethereal hope goes back to the first relationship, in a place of being so “seen” and “lovingly known” that “she” was naked and unashamed.
This novella was not written to add salt to the gaping wound of unsatisfied need. It was written to satisfy the need completely. Let Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul introduce you to a lasting relationship with Transcendent Love, where reality becomes sweeter than your dreams.
As a woman, I know what it’s like to desire to be wined and dined by a beautiful man. There’s something inside a woman that is made alive when she feels loved. I believe God formed us with tender hearts that blossom by love. He built in us an ethereal need to be savored, valued, and pursued. He created us to be cherished warmly and affectionately, not because we are weak, but because we are meant to gestate and give birth to the most powerful force in existence—heavenly love. However, unconditional love is not the average consistent experience many women have in life, and often many women are left aching or hardened because of it. This is because Jesus was meant to be the lover of our souls. Only he can love us endlessly without fail. And only he can touch the deepest places of our hearts, where no one else can reach, with rejuvenating life.
I pray that as you read this story and devotional questions that your experience would be like going on a date with the Lover of your heart. May the words you read grow in your mind until your imagination is tickled with scenes of beauty; may your spirit be stirred and awakened to the love of God. I pray that as you read you will freely pick of the supple, life-giving fruit of the Holy Spirit who inspires me to write. He is the groomer of the Bride of Christ—the very One who inspired John the Baptist to prepare the way for the Lord by washing the people in repentance so they could receive the King and the kingdom. (Luke 1:76–79) More so, I pray that your relationship with God may be deepened and sweetened by your companionship with our Lord Jesus Christ. May he give you his perfect peace, love, and joy. May you freely receive all that he has for you. Let yourself be deeply loved, healed, seen, delighted in, and lit with the fire of God’s heart by our Savior.
This book is a very intimate look into my personal journey with the courtship ways of Jesus. Many of the word pictures in this story are allegories that describe the ways in which Jesus met my maturing desire to be loved. I wrote the great majority of this book while I traveled through the erratic terrain of singleness. Many times, my emotions were like rocky mountains with edgy rifts. In the deepest fissures, Jesus showed me bright flowers growing through the rock sediments. He unveiled the beauty of my needs and the faithful promises of God to fulfill them (2 Peter 1:4). I started writing this book when I was eighteen. It was born out of my deepest pain, but God took my ashes of longing and unfulfilled desire and gave me an oasis of his love. He bandaged my wound with the ointment of his Spirit. I pray you feel the power of his aching heart in this pungent story. Jesus slowly showed me that my yearning for love was nothing compared to his yearning to love me, and yet my yearning it was everything to him.
May this book bless you as you take the time to enjoy a romantic rendezvous with Jesus. May it be like enjoying a candlelit dinner across the table from your Savior. I pray that you will have the deepest personal relationship with God, and that you will surrender every area of your life to him out of his love growing in you.
I also pray that this book touches the hearts of teenage girls all around the world. If it were not for my experiencing Jesus’ bridegroom love as an adolescent, I would have fallen into the pit traps that I believe are set for many young girls in today’s world. Jesus loved me deeply in the places in my heart that were aching with feminine maturity. I saw that his nature was good and only good. Because I trusted his heart, I waited with expectancy for a husband. At sixteen, I invited him wholehearted into my romantic life. I was led in a dance with my Savior, and he introduced my husband to me at age 24.
Stephen was the first man I had ever dated, and we later married. I could not have picked a better spouse. Stephen’s attentive love has a way of melting me inside. His compliments and affirmation quicken my soul with encouragement, and his kindness draws me close to him. I thank God for a husband who chases after loving me like Christ loves the church. And I prize my husband’s zeal for the truth. (I praise this just as much as I praise his love, because slowly I’ve learned that truth is what makes us free and chases away darkness.) I value so many things about my husband. Before Stephen ever came along, I went on dates with Jesus.
I also pray for women who have gone through years of being married, divorced, or in-between relationships. I pray for the precious souls who have been abused and for those who have lived with interpersonal dysfunction. I lift up to heaven the women who feel guilty or dirty or angry because of things that were done to them in their past, things that they have done, and even for things they are still doing. Jesus wants to meet you at the well today. You are the woman he needs to meet. In the same way, he met with the Samaritan woman who had five failed marriages and was living in adultery (a great cultural shame, especially back in her day). And yet, Father God told Jesus to go meet with her because the Bible says, “He needed to go through Samaria,” (John 4:4) and Jesus only ever did what he saw his Father doing. (John 5:19) Father has set up a healing meeting with his Son for you today. Jesus wants you to let him give you the water that will satisfy all your thirsts as well as cleanse your soul in purity, forgiveness (both being forgiven and forgiving others), hope, joy, rejuvenating peace, and unconditional love.
Dear one, your heart is not only worth being pursued but cherished for all your days. Let Jesus show you how to be a wife, before you are married and also while you are in marriage. He cannot fail and his plans for you are only good. Above all, let him show you how to live in relationship with him. Once you’ve rested by trusting his hand after you’ve gotten to know his heart, you will experience such peace.
Warmest thoughts,
Ashley
“I dare you, I dare you to read this book in a longer time frame then one month. To those mommy’s out there who can’t seem to finish reading a simple Facebook post because their family’s crawling everywhere. I can almost guarantee you’ll find time for this Artwork and then Jesus following…I devoured it in three days, tears flowing and heart throbbing, my first love, whom I’d hardened my heart towards unknowing knocked and knocked as I read inviting me to passion & freedom. The passion to read my bible because I can’t get enough of this man and the freedom because falling in love is first a decision and then is oh so effortless and honestly, I’d forgotten about my first love even while going to church and everything.
My marriage was rough this last year and I mean some light weight cheating on his part (if that’s a thing) & scratching and biting on my part (pretty much). Last week all those pieces fell into the magnificent puzzle that wedlock is with Christ as the center & today and knowing the future holds the same, love seems to have caught on fire literally blazing a trail so fluently and easily. This reconciliation between spouses and one week later THIS book. Not a coincidence because the hardships of marriage had left me feeling a bit hopeless (my heart was flawed before I ever entered it, my own fault being) and really our marital mishaps only shed light on those deep untouched and dirty caves of the heart I’d hidden long ago.
But this book, being alive in words and so articulate, Holy Spirit did breath life into Ashley and you’ll find out that He wants to do the same for yours…Our Jesus is our first love, first husband and first encounter even with God the father himself. He’s the only way and rest assured he’ll pursue you until you are convinced of the same.” -Amazon Reviewer
~To purchase a copy of Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul, click here.
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