Brushing my teeth, I heard the
scratching of what sounded like branches tickling the roof. I paused, wondering
what it could be, given that no trees were close to our house. I attributed the
sound to a stray branch that must have been flung up on our roof from Hurricane
Isabel, which was blowing her way through our city in September 2003. Being
pretty far inland, we were not too alarmed by this display of nature’s fury.
Then
I heard the faint sound of breaking glass. A split second later, the entire
house shook. My husband and I stared at each other in frozen horror before bolting
to check on our nearly 1-year-old daughter asleep in her crib across the hall.
The sound had jolted her awake—never had a cry sounded so sweet—and my husband
gratefully snatched her up and darted back to the relative safety of our room.
Peeking
down the darkened hallway, we could see remnants of our attic lying on the
floor of our living room. After grabbing a few essentials, my husband ventured
out, flipping on the hall light. The illuminated site of the destruction
provided enough of a visual for us to safely pick our way out of the house and
into the still raging hurricane.
My
husband started the car while I hurried across the street to let a neighbor
know we were okay and were heading to a friend’s home. Shaking but grateful to
be alive, we drove away, skirting fallen trees and downed power lines.
The
next morning, bright sunlight starkly contrasted with the storm’s destruction.
We returned home to see what the dark and rain of the night before had hidden from
view: A giant tulip poplar tree that used to reside in the center of our yard
had effectively split our rambler in two, crashing through our kitchen window
with its long branches extending over the front of our house.
We
had hoped to be able to get back inside to check on our cats, one of whom I had
seen in the kitchen just moments before the tree fell but we were uncertain of
the house’s stability. As we stood on the sidewalk gaping at the damage and wondering
what to do, a local fire truck pulled up. The firefighters had heard about what
happened at our house and informed us, with a note of awe, that our home had
received the worst damage in the city. They volunteered to go inside to check
for our cats, and we were thrilled when both felines were found unharmed,
although plenty scared.
In
the days and weeks that followed, we remembered the feeling of relief when we
realized that everyone in our lives who mattered was unscathed—me, my husband,
our daughter and even our two pets. We clung to that memory as we navigated the
long and sometimes exhausting road to recovery.
Family,
friends and neighbors—most of whom we hadn’t yet met given that we had moved in
only six months earlier—expressed amazement at our calmness throughout the
ordeal. Words cannot fully express how utterly grateful we were to God that He
had spared our lives. Yes, we lost many things: books, toys, furniture, dishes,
computers, and a fridge and freezer full of food. But those things were
replaceable. Our home was rebuilt better than before—and I even had the chance
to make a few kitchen renovations during the reconstruction.
The
damage inflicted by Hurricane Isabel—the costliest and deadliest hurricane in
the 2003 Atlantic season—was temporary, but the opportunity to witness to God’s
goodness in the midst of our trial is something we still cherish. When we meet
neighbors for the first time, their eyes pop when they realize we live in “the
house the tree fell through” years earlier.
The
storm and its damage may be years in our past, but every so often we pull out
the photos of the tree’s destruction and marvel at how blessed we were—and
still are. Whenever we begin to feel ungrateful or unsatisfied with what we have,
those photos and memories offer a reminder of how we came through that trial. Especially
during this time of economic uncertainty, reflecting on our close call with
that tree makes us all the more thankful for our lives and for the things that
matter most.
This story originally appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Count Your Blessings.
The Butterfly Recluse by Therese Heckenkamp — Lila finds solace in her sheltered world by raising butterflies and surrounding herself with their gentle beauty. They’re all she needs—until a motorcycle-riding stranger roars up her driveway, invading her safe haven, throwing her life off-kilter, and forcing her to question everything. What exactly is he after, and what is he not telling her? In one intense night of desperation and revelation, Lila must confront her darkest fears—and hopefully discover that with faith and courage, shattered dreams can be restored, damaged hearts can love again, and broken wings can heal . . . maybe even fly. (Contemporary Romance from Ivory Tower Press)
A Glitter of Gold by Liz Johnson — Anne Norris moved to Savannah, Georgia, for a fresh start. Now her pirate-tour business is flagging and paying the rent requires more than wishful thinking. When she discovers evidence of a shipwreck off the coast of Tybee Island, she knows it could be just the boon she needs to stay afloat. She takes her findings to local museum director Carter Hale for confirmation, but things do not go as planned. Carter is fascinated with the wreck, the discovery of which could open the door to his dream job at a prestigious museum. But convincing Anne to help him fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle is no easy task. And working with Carter means that Anne will have to do the one thing she swore she’d never do again: trust a man. (Contemporary Romance from Revell-A Division of Baker Publishing Group)
Hometown Healing by Jennifer Slattery — She’s home again, but not for long… Unless this cowboy recaptures her heart Returning home with a baby in tow, Paige Cordell’s determined her stay is only temporary. But to earn enough money to leave, she needs a job—and her only option is working at her first love’s dinner theater. With attraction once again unfurling between her and Jed Gilbertson, can the man who once broke her heart convince her to stay for good? (Contemporary Romance from Love Inspired [Harlequin])
General Contemporary/Women’s Fiction:
Grace in Deep Waters by Christine Dillon — William Macdonald is at the pinnacle of his career. Pastor of a growing megachurch and host of a successful national radio programme. Clever and respected, he’s a man with everything, including a secret. His wife has left him and he can’t risk anyone finding out. Blanche Macdonald is struggling. Her once rock-solid marriage is showing cracks. She promised to love her husband for better or for worse, but does loving always mean staying? Blanche desires to put God first. Not William. Not her daughter. Not herself. When is a marriage over? When do you stand and fight? (Women’s Fiction, Independently Published)
When Mountains Sing by Stacy Monson — Mikayla Gordon loves nothing more than sleeping under the stars, reeling in the “big one,” and long hikes in the wilderness. A medical crisis reveals a 30-year-old secret that turns everything she’s known and believed upside down, unraveling her dreams and her identity. In search of answers, she follows a trail from Minnesota to Colorado and discovers more unwelcome secrets even as she falls in love with the majestic beauty of the Rocky Mountains, and a wilderness camp leader who shares the greatest secret of all. Knowing her life can never go back to what it was, she must make decisions that will impact far more than just her future. (Contemporary from His Image Publications)
All In by L. K. Simonds — Cami Taylor: a blackjack dealer, a bestselling author, and a fraud. Cami’s boyfriend, Joel, loves her in spite of her flaws. He wants to marry her, buy a house on Long Island, and raise a family–a life that’s a million miles from Cami’s idea of happiness. Her therapist suggests compromise and trust, but Cami bolts like a deer. She breaks off the relationship and launches on a new quest for happiness, not knowing that a nasty surprise waits around the corner. What follows is a fight to the death. Who will be the one left standing? (Contemporary from Morgan James Fiction)
Historical:
Finding Lady Enderly by Joanna Davidson Politano — A rag girl accepts an invitation to become the lady she’s always dreamed of being, but some dreams turn out to be nightmares. (Historical from Revel – A Division of Baker Publishing Group)
The Farmer’s Daughter by Mary Davis, Kelly Eileen Hake, Tracie J. Peterson, Jill Stengl, and Susan May Warren — Enjoy five historical novels by some of Christian fiction’s bestselling authors. Meet daughters of prairie farms from Montana south to Kansas who find love in the midst of turbulent life changes. Marty’s nieces are kidnapped. Rosalind’s town is overrun by a railroad company. Amy’s jealousy comes between her and her twin. Beulah’s answer is needed to a marriage proposal. Lilly’s choice puts her at odd with her neighbors. Into each of their lives rides a man who may only make their situations worse. (Historical Romance from Barbour Publishing)
The Cowboys by Sandra Merville Hart, Cindy Ervin Huff, Jennifer Uhlarik, and Linda W. Yezak — Taming the West–one heart at a time. Healing Heart: A physically scarred cowboy finds solace with a ranch girl who is hiding from her past. Becoming Brave: A cattle drover wants to get his boss’s herd safely through Indian Territory…as soon he figures out why a bloodstained woman is holding a gun on him. Trails End: Waiting for his boss’s cattle to sell, a cowboy takes a kitchen job at a restaurant where the beautiful and prickly owner adds spice to his workday. Loving a Harvey Girl: To improve the local preacher’s opinion of career women, a Harvey Girl makes it her mission to redeem a wayward cowboy, but finds herself longing for a husband, hearth, and home. (Historical Romance from Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas)
Lost in the Storm by Tamera Lynn Kraft — Lavena, a journalist during the Civil War, wants to become a war correspondent. She finally gets her chance, but there’s a catch. She has to get an interview from a war hero who has refused to tell his story to every other journalist, and she has to accomplish this impossible task in a month or she’ll lose her job. Captain Cage, the war hero, has a secret that will destroy his military career and reputation. Now, a new journalist wants him to reveal what he’s been hiding. He’d prefer to ignore her, but from the moment she came into camp, he can’t get her out of his mind. Leading up to the turbulent Battles for the city of Chattanooga, will Lavena and Cage find the courage to love and forgive, or will they be swept away by their past mistakes that don’t want to stay buried? (Historical Romance from Mt Zion Ridge Press)
Love’s Allegiance by Linda Shenton Matchett — Inspired by the biblical love story of Rebekkah and Isaac, Love’s Allegiance explores the struggles and sacrifices of those whose beliefs were at odds with a world at war. (Historical Romance from Shortwave Press)
The Brightest Hope by Naomi Musch — Five years after the Great War, Holly Allen is a well-adjusted war widow with a knack for running the family press. She’s over the days of waiting for a white knight to ride in and sweep her away from her cares. Besides, if Hugh Phelps is a knight, he’s certainly a black one—with his prison record, personal demons, and the ghosts of war that haunt him. When Holly hires Hugh, despite her reservations, it isn’t long before she sees the man he could really be, and as Hugh finds his niche at Allen’s Printing, he finds his lady boss equally appealing. Despite the attraction, however, Holly won’t let herself fall for a faithless man, and Hugh isn’t on gracious terms with God. Then, just when new beginnings seem possible, old heartaches from the war come calling. Now it might only be in letting go of everything dear that they both discover what real love is. (Historical Romance, Independently Published)
Annabelle’s Joy by Betty Thomason Owens — She’s waited too long. When Tom proposed last year, Annabelle wasn’t ready to open her heart to another man. Pain still held a thin crust around it. Time has healed her heart, but with a new woman in town, one who clearly has her sights set on Tom, does it matter if Annabelle’s heart is ready to love again? Folks in town are keeping a close eye on their pharmacist, hoping to be the first to hear the good news. He’s been courting the widow Cross for nigh on two years now. Annabelle Cross better wake up and put her dancing shoes on. Mr. Tom is prime real estate. (Historical Romance from Write Integrity Press)
Mystery/Cozy Mystery:
Hidden Secrets by Janet Sketchley — When an online vendetta against the Green Dory Inn escalates to physical threats, a cryptic message about a tunnel points to the property’s original owner, a notorious Prohibition-era sea captain rumored to have left hidden wealth. (Mystery, Independently Published)
Murder at Rendsburg Resort by C. L. Wells — Trapped in a remote resort with a killer on the loose, the body count piling up, and no one else to save them, mystery writer Jill Pemberton must help find the killer before they claim their next victim. (Cozy Mystery, Independently Published)
Romantic Suspense:
Two Steps Forward by Luana Ehrlich — When CIA operative Titus Ray has an unexpected encounter with a Jihadi terrorist while he and Nikki are on their honeymoon in Morocco, he assumes it’s a coincidence, but when they travel to Israel for the second half of their honeymoon and encounter him again, he takes action, which takes him to Baghdad to prevent the assassination of a high-profile government official. (Romantic Suspense, Independently Published)
Edge of Truth by Kimberly Rose Johnson — The DEA sends two of its best agents, Kara Nelson and Jeff Clark, to Central Oregon, to shut down a major drug ring. Kara and Jeff usually work alone, but Operation Trail Ride throws them undercover together in a way neither of them expected. A notorious Miami drug lord wants Kara dead. Can these agents pull off the greatest acting job of their lives—and manage the sparks flying between them? Or will they die trying? (Romantic Suspense, Independently Published)
Speculative:
Redemption by Jacques R. Pye — Sterling Newman and Armena Sandal face death as they struggle to help the Alesandrans and the Kirilleans combat a force seeking the destruction of both worlds. (Speculative, Independently Published)
Young Adult:
Shards of Light by Susan Miura — Sometimes the pieces of a shattered dream can transform into something extraordinary. (Young Adult from Vinspire Publishing)
The words punctured my mom like a
pin deflating a balloon. Her shoulders slumped, and she suddenly looked every
inch of her nearly six decades. “Emily,” Mom’s voice broke on a harsh sob. “Oh,
my darling daughter. No, it wasn’t worth it. Not at all. I didn’t read the
Bible. I merely thought if I could be good enough that would atone for my
having lived when he died. But I couldn’t keep it up, and had to escape
sometimes. I didn’t pick up that old Book until a few months ago, when I
suddenly came across it on my bookshelf and remembered what that man had told
me all those years ago.”
I closed my eyes in grief at those
lost years, the years when I had so desperately needed a mother’s guidance. But
had I been any better? I hadn’t made any attempts to repair our frayed relationship
in the years since my father’s death. I had been content to maintain the status
quo, not bothering to look beneath the surface to see my mom’s hurting soul.
“I read it.” Her voice held amazement
as a smile broke through. “I realized what he had been telling me, that Jesus does
love me and has called me to Him.”
She turned a shining face to me. “Once
I accepted that, it dawned on me what a terrible, awful mother I had been, how
I had stifled all the love in our house by focusing only on me, and my wants
and needs and desires. I never once considered your father or you. I can’t ask
your father’s forgiveness, but can you find it in your heart to forgive an old
woman the wrongs she has done? Can we start over and have a real relationship,
even at this late stage?”
I stared at the wooden cross, and
thought about a man who had died pointing the Way to my mother. Her journey had
taken more than thirty years to find the truth. I reached out and touched her
arm. “I’m not sure how to start over, Mom.”
“I know.” She patted my hand.
“But lunch might be a good place to
begin,” I said, drawing in a deep breath. “And maybe we can talk some more
about what you’ve been reading in that Book of yours.”
My hand flew to my throat. I could
nearly hear the squeal of breaks, the screams of passengers, and the crunch of
metal at the collision.
Her voice dropped even lower. “The
man next to me was covered in blood. Clearly, he was gravely injured, probably
dying. But he focused not on himself, but on me, on the state of my soul. He
thrust his Bible into my hands, begging me to read the truth within its pages.
His last words have haunted me to this day.”
A truck roared past, whipping up a
cloud of dust that irritated my eyes. At least, that’s the excuse I gave myself
for the tears in my eyes. Then her words registered on another level. “Wait a
minute. Are you talking about the Bible that sat on the mantle? The one with
the cracked leather and dark splotches? Those were blood stains?”
“Yes, that’s the Bible he gave me,
Emily,” Mom affirmed. “I clutched the Bible and tried to comfort him, tried to
stop the blood, but he waved off my feeble attempts and said to me, ‘Norma
Jane. Jesus said, “I come not to call the righteous, but sinners to
repentance.” He’s calling your name, Norma Jane.’”
My eyes fell on the simple wooden
cross, representing a man who gave his last breath to reach another’s lost
soul.
“But I never answered Him, Emily.”
My mother turned to me, grabbing hold of my hands in a tight grip. “I could
feel His tugging on my heart, but I ignored His call. After the accident, I had
no heart left for continuing my journey, so I returned home to you and your
father. And I tried to be a good person, tried to love you and your father the
best way I could. I felt I had to, you see, because I was spared.”
“But you were always distant, so
cold in a lot of ways. I knew that you loved me, but I also knew that you
weren’t happy, that you would rather be off doing something else. And when Daddy
died, you finally did leave.”
Mom squeezed my hands, then let go.
“I’m an old woman now. My life hasn’t turned out quite like I expected. I
wanted you to understand what happened here, how it changed the course of my
life. I thought maybe we could reconnect somehow.”
I sighed in frustration as the old
hurts clawed their way to the forefront of my mind. “Changed the course of your
life? How, exactly, did it change your life?”
I paced away from her, stopping by
the foot of the cross, then whirling around to point an accusing finger at my
mom. “Instead of running away with some stranger, you returned to play the
martyr with Dad and me. Then you simply disappeared whenever the walls closed
in. That about sums it up, right? But then Dad died, and you had a golden
opportunity to recapture those ‘lost’ years, didn’t you?”
My voice rose to compete with the wind. “Was it worth
it, Mom? Didn’t you even read the Bible that man on the bus died to give you?”
I eyed the desolate landscape, then
looked at my mother, who I’d never seen shed a tear. “What are you talking
about?”
“How do I even begin? I know I’ve
not been a good mother to you. And part of the reason has to do with that cross.”
Her voice steadied as she told me about a day more than 30 years ago.
The facts were simple. A Greyhound
bus with a half-dozen passengers bound for Mexico collided with a semi-truck
whose driver ran the stop sign at the intersection. The resulting crash killed one
bus passenger and injured both drivers.
I stared at the cross, questions
swirling in my mind. I asked the one that floated to the surface. “Were you on
the bus?”
The silence between us stretched on.
As I waited for her answer, I reflected on how little I really knew my mother.
She had always been somewhat mysterious, suddenly disappearing for a few days at
a time, once or twice a year. My father would smile sadly when I asked about
her unexpected absences and say that she was off exploring the world. She
always returned and, to my knowledge, my father never questioned her
whereabouts. He also refused to tolerate my asking her about the trips.
The summer between my junior and
senior years of college, she abruptly took off one sultry August night and
didn’t come home—or call—for two weeks. While she was away, my father suffered
a fatal heart attack. I, as the only child, had to shoulder the responsibility
of burying him. My mother traipsed back home to find her husband dead and
buried, and her daughter so furious with her that their relationship never
quite recovered.
Now I wondered if her words would
shed any light on her past.
“Yes, I was on the bus,” she said in
a voice barely above a whisper. “I was running away to Mexico to be with some
drifter who had caught my eye. Now I can’t even remember his name. I, well, I
wanted adventure, not a baby and a husband.”
“And so?” I prompted when the
silence lengthened again.
“I sat on the bus by myself for
most of the journey, until an older man took the open seat beside me a few
stops before Orogrande. He didn’t say much at first, but then he began asking
questions about my journey and my life, such as where I was headed, where was I
from. His gentle eyes put me at ease, and I found myself pouring out my unhappiness.”
Mom blinked back tears, her voice
becoming thready as she continued. “After refueling at Orogrande, the man pulled
out a worn Bible. I rolled my eyes and said, ‘Don’t you go quoting Scripture to
me, mister.’ He just lovingly stroked the Bible’s cracked cover and said, ‘But,
Norma Jane, Jesus loves you, and He says so right here in this Book.’ Whatever
else he was going to say, I’ll never know. At that very minute, the semi hit
the bus.”
