~A short allegoric story charting my journey back to grace. Like Jesus told parables to make heaven’s kingdom more relatable to his culture, I like to use short “fictional” stories to roadmap inner realities of my relationship with Jesus. I pray the Holy Spirit uses this story to minister healing grace to a deep place in your soul. Taken from my book Visions of Celestial Love
Shianne was having a hard time falling asleep. Gentle snow sprinkled down outside like the dust of white gold. She shivered underneath her fuzzy blue covers not from lack of physical warmth, but because of the cold memories that enveloped her dreams…her thoughts, her every moment.
She listened to the symphony of snores that came from the other children. All lay peacefully in pools of silky sheets and puffy quilts. She cuddled her knees and her subconscious pushed through, revisiting scenes of the abuses she’d suffered.
Suddenly she wasn’t in the safety of Jesus’s home; she was in the sweat shop scrabbling to mix mud together for bricks. Her tormenting taskmasters wore the guise of foster parents. There was the mistress, the headmistress and her fake father. Each exemplified cruelty in their own unique way. The head mistress was never pleased with what she did. She’d yell at her, look disdainfully upon her and reminded her that she wasn’t good enough. She acted as condemnation.
Her fake father would approve of her, but only when she served him without fault. He loved her performance, not her heart—and that perhaps was the most damaging. He acted as law without mercy.
The other mistress would execute judgment on her whenever the head mistress and her fake father were displeased. She acted as the tormentor.
Shianne could remember cold beatings in the night of winter. She remembered the small rations of food they gave her. She remembered the bruises she bore, still unhealed. Her life was a cycle of hopeless misery and endless work until a kind Man with deeply warm eyes came upon her and paid for her. He’d caught sight of her on the street, knee deep in snow and shivering. He’d brought her a warm bowl of soup and warm water.
“Here,” He said softly, His breath was the tenderness of a thousand hearths. He placed the bowl in her hands and untied His long scarf before draping it over her shivering shoulders. “Would you like to come home with Me, My child?”
Slipping into a state of unconsciousness, Shianne nodded her head before the gentle Man cupped her in His arms and tugged His arms around her. Her head lay peacefully on His shoulder and He whispered, “I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re Mine now. You’re home.”
When she awoke, Shianne was in a big four-story house filled with kids. They were all taken off the streets. Was this an orphanage?
Jesus greeted her and kissed her on the forehead. “Good morning, princess. Welcome to the House of Grace. This is your home from now on.”
Grace? She wondered. Every day the kids played freely in grace, they took piano lessons by the grand fireplace, read books in the library hall, went to class, were fed delicious meals, and had their cuddles with Jesus in the morning and before bed. Angels would attend the children; they worked for Jesus. Everything in the grace house was perfect. It seemed too good to be true.
One night when Shianne was trembling in bed from another nightmare, Jesus scooted behind her in bed and wrapped His arms around her chest. In the safety of His arms Shianne began to cry audibly. He formed His body around her little one and the warmth from His heart entered into her soul.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” He kept repeating.
Whenever she was behaved badly at the school, had troubles, didn’t understand a question, or had an issue, Jesus always said the same thing, “I love you…I love you…I love you.”
She wondered at Him all the time. He was always so gracious, so kind, so sweet, so loving, so beautiful. He never gave her what she deserved. Everything was a gift.
And the house she lived in—this Grace House—seemed to accommodate everything she desired. It was almost as if the house was alive. The carpet was softer than fur, the walls were perfectly painted, and sometimes, when Shianne squinted, it almost looked like it was made out of moving lights, so still yet so fast that it appeared solid. Jesus told her that the Holy Spirit was the life force of the house. He was in the air, the walls, the floor—everywhere.
The food was perfect, and her body that had once been limp and sickly was now full and warm. Her apple cheeks flushed with color and her hair, once thin, was now as thick as straw. She hardly recognized herself.
Outside the drifting snow had stilled, leaving the city glowing with a blanket of snow. Shianne’s eyes blinked as she tried to organize her thoughts. Finally she slipped out of bed. The carpet glowed blue wherever she stepped. It was like star dust, a perfect opal.
Not wanting to wake up the other kids, who slept peacefully, she softly rebuked, “No, not now!” The carpet instinctively stopped. “Thank you,” she whispered and felt the soft furs of the carpet tickle her bare feet as a way of saying “you’re welcome.”
Whereas once she would have been afraid, Shianne smiled and headed out the door. Nimbly closing the door behind her Shianne, wandered the halls. Everything in the house was still, yet living. It was almost surreal. Each room held a different fragrance of love for her young heart.
She could always tell when she was getting closer to Jesus. Her heart would begin glowing with warmth and then burning like she was in a hot spring of the soul. The scents of love in the house would increase…the walls would light up in polychromatic show and angelic voices would sing in jubilant and melodious tune, like an invisible choir. As if…all creation sang whenever He was around. A tangible peace would coat her like a mist; it was a feeling sweeter than honey.
Her heart wanted Jesus as she thought about Him, and she breathed into the air, “I want You.” “I want You more.” Shianne gasped and stopped. She felt her chest, patted different areas. It was almost like an audible voice spoke from her heart. It wasn’t her voice, but the voice that was gentler than a thousand hearths. “Jesus?” She wondered out loud. “I’m always with you loved one. Yet I wait for you to come to Me.” Still a little bit stunned Shianne voiced,“I want to see You tonight.” “I’m waiting in the library.” The voice sounded happy, pleased that she was opening up her heart, learning to trust in His love.
Quickening her step Shianne headed to the library, but as she got closer she slowed down. Old memories of her days of living in the House of Law tried to surface, fear knocked to be welcomed in again. It tried to separate her from trusting Jesus, from drawing near to Him in a heart relaxed with love.
It growled and sneered, “He’s just like me…just like the law without the spirit of mercy. Do you really think you can trust Him? That He’s safe? That He’ll protect you…love you unconditionally? He’s disappointed in you. You have to work to please Him. Go back.”
Just when her heart began to give into panic, the scent of pumpkin bread spiced with nutmeg almost overwhelmed her. The walls began to glow a translucent desert pink, honey-bee yellow, sparkling lavender, and emerald green. The songs of angels filled the halls like the wafts of air licked with the wine of an endless floral field. She felt warm gentle waters inside her chest. Her eyes lit up as she saw the door to the library. A joy unspeakable welled inside her soul as she thought about seeing Jesus. Her steps quickened again.
Shianne arrived at the door and peeked inside. The fireplace was burning inside; gentle crackling and popping noises sounded. The pearl carpet glowed with hues of yellow from the flames. Wooden book shelves tall as the ceiling were filled with books. Little desks circled a big desk, where the Teacher taught. Paintings lined the walls, pictures of heaven made with vibrant oil paint. Teddy bears, along with other stuffed animals, decorated the circle carpet. Palm branches stood on the sides of the hearth and vines climbed the walls with pink flowers. Shianne’s heart began to burn when she saw Jesus. He was sitting and reading a book. He looked so peaceful, so restful. He was the very image of love to her.
He leaned His head on an arm and had one leg folded over the other in a chair. His elbow rested on his leg. He wore a white-collar shirt with a maple brown sweater vest. He also had black dress pants. His shoes were kicked off but He kept His socks on. He was nothing grand to look at…but there was a river, a presence on the inside of Him that flowed out, encompassing Him in beauty that was alive. He was Man, but also Spirit. The Spirit inside of Him, His true self, flowed through the pores of the skin He wore in unstoppable kindness, compassion, love, mercy, healing and wisdom. Jesus seemed to sense her and smiled with His eyes as He looked up.
He put down the book on the floor by His chair. His eyes were like cinnamon gleaming with flecks of amber. The firelight illuminated His frame. Love poured from His frame.
“Hello, my little love,” He said, all the joy of heaven flowing from His lips and visage.
He smiled brightly and opened up His arms. Shianne found herself running into those arms and being swept up into His lap. He ducked His head down and nuzzled her shoulder with His chin. Cheek brushed against cheek and Shianne felt the Holy Spirit in wave after wave of peace and tender love wash over her.
The air became colorful and the sound of music from angelic voices erupted.
“They’re singing over You,” Shianne said.
“No, my little darling, I’m singing over you,” Jesus whispered.
Shianne’s eyes widened. Jesus explained still holding her close, “This is My love song to you. You make My heart sing. I made creation and you are made in my image. I love you, and creation responds to My love for you. Our bond makes the earth and heavens sing.”
The words sunk in the bedrock of Shianne’s heart. She felt them go deep into the soil of her being. Seeds of life that Jesus’s love would nurture. He held unto her for a long time, and kissed her forehead a few times.
“You’re a good little girl,” He said before leaning back. His arms relaxed their hold on her, without letting go. His hands were tied and laid on her legs.
“You’re perfect and holy in My eyes. You are a reflection of all My affections; nothing can separate you from My love.”
Shianne’s young eyes welled with tears at His tender words. She wanted to believe Him…but she couldn’t reconcile the voices of law she sometimes heard and His abundant healing grace. She bit and chewed on her bottom lip, licking it a few times. Jesus felt her small body begin to squirm in His arms, He assured her by gently rubbing her back. After twittling with her fingers for a few seconds Shianne mustered up her strength, “But what about the voices?”
Jesus leaned in closely until her back pressed into His chest. He spoke softly, “Those are nightmares beloved, dreams, shadows, only memories. They aren’t real. I have defeated them outwardly. Now only the echoes of their memory remain in your head. Let My loving truth drown them out.”
“They feel real,” she murmured tears welling up.
“He will never hurt you or have you again as long as you remain in this Grace House. The only real reason why it feels real is because he’s affected your emotions. But it’s not real. The longer you stay here the more your mind will be refreshed by the knowledge of My grace and truth. As this happens your emotions will continually be healed until the river of life that’s in you floods you and touches the world around you. Once you’ve grown fully in grace, you’ll be an adult. It is good for the heart to be established by grace.”
Shianne relaxed in Jesus’s arms and smiled, “All I have to do is stay here?”
He nodded with an equally tender smiled, “Yes, and continue to eat and drink of My goodness and loving-kindness. That’s all you have to do. Enjoy Me, enjoy your brothers and sisters. Be filled with love and love will fill your character. Your soul will be transformed by My grace and truth. Shianne, everything is provided for you here. In Me, in My grace you have everything. Stay here and abide in Me and you will not only be free physically, but you will experience my salvation in your soul and walk in the fullness of the freedom that I have already given you. My Shianne, I love you more than you understand right now and I will never stop loving you, dear one.”
Feeling the assurance of His love Shianne leaned her lips into His cheek and gave Jesus a short kiss. Jesus’s eyes welled with tears of happiness and He cupped her face and kissed her on the forehead. As she studied His face Shianne realized that her one little kiss filled Him with such joy; she could see the gleam of it in His eyes. His love was so pure and gentle and true and protective. She’d never known what it was like to have a Big Brother, but He was the perfect One.
“Now, little lass, are you ready for bed again?” Jesus asked her.
She nodded her head and wrapped her arms around His neck as He rose. He began to walk down the hall and Shianne could still hear the angels’ music. She couldn’t see them, but their whimsical lullaby spoke to her of love everlasting and grace never ending. Jesus’s arms spoke to her of safety and trust. Soon her open eyes began to flutter, until she closed them and began to drift to sleep. She felt Jesus place her in bed and then tuck her in.
He put His hands on her chest and prayed, “Father, thank You that You have given me this little one. And what You give me will never be lost. I pray for her heart. That it would continue to grow in grace and be enlightened by Your love for her and who she truly is—a princess destined to be a queen, the one that You love, the apple of Your eye and Your precious creation. I speak peace to her.”
For a moment Shianne felt like she was floating on a cloud somewhere where the sun never set, in a land where the streets shone like gold. She glimpsed Heaven and felt the pleasure of her heavenly Father for her. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before.
“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 wha tis 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
“Ashley presents us with a true cornucopia of modern psalms, personal testimonies, and short stories. She has set out to reveal and unravel some of the most complex heart issues mankind faces in our quest of understanding what true intimacy with God really looks like. Prepare to have your soul massaged and worked on as you read Visions of Celestial Love.” — Jeremy Minard, Servant King Apparel
~To purchase a copy of my book, click here. May you be greatly blessed and encouraged!
Do not be carried away by all kinds of strange teachings, for it is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace and not by foods of no value to those devoted to them. -Hebrews 13:9 BSB