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Christmas Rescue Route

Page 9

by LoRee Peery


  “Oh yes. Mom reminded me of Romans 5:3-4, how I am to rejoice in my sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character, and character, hope. Even if most of my suffering has been within and fighting any prospect of feeling trapped by circumstance. I can’t call being without a car to drive suffering, but inconvenient.”

  He grunted. He searched his thoughts first before he responded. He needed to look up Revelation 14 for the exact place that said patient endurance counted in the end. If he was to write wise words to help others see God’s intent, he needed to start carrying around a notepad or use some kind of easy technology to keep notes. Technology. He laughed.

  “What?”

  “Have I ever told you how much I hate computers? I’ll have to get over that if I start writing out Sunday school studies and eventually books. But you know, there’s only one Book that really matters. I love the idea that the Bible is considered the Living Word because different passages take on a different personal meaning according to whatever we’re dealing with at the time.”

  They talked about biblical gems all the way to downtown Lincoln. They watched people on the sidewalks hurry due to the cold.

  Did Izzy wonder, like him, how many knew Jesus? He turned off the street and stopped for a ticket in the parking garage. In silence, he watched the arm raise and drove up two ramps to an empty stall. He decided not to wait until after the movie. “Would you mind opening the glove box?”

  “Sure.”

  “I know this is New Year’s Eve instead of Christmas Eve”—he accepted the box—“but this is a little something I got for you. I knew it was meant for you the second I saw it.”

  “Brock, you have done so much for me. I don’t need anything else.”

  “Whether you need it or not, I want to give you a gift to help you remember this Christmas vacation.” He ran a thumb over the black velvet bow on the small box in the palm of his hand. Maybe someday he’d confess it came from a grocery store sale.

  Her attention remained fixed on his face. Wasn’t she curious?

  “As for rescuing people. I no longer think of myself as saving you on a white-out night. I give you credit for saving me from a life of resentment toward Dad. I was hurting myself rather than him by those feelings. He may not know how I looked at myself, or the way I imagined he saw me. Maybe it was all my imagination that he was disappointed in me. Wow, did that sound convoluted. I think you know what I mean, sweet touchy-feeling lady.”

  “It doesn’t matter. As long as you believe your dream is God’s wish for your life.”

  “Do you hear what you’re saying? It sounds to me as if God is changing the way we both think. We aren’t quite ready to spend each day together, but from a distance I wish for us to enjoy life together.” He laughed and kissed her. “Open this, please. It reminded me of the snowflakes you all made for me.”

  She ran a finger over the bow much as he had, and lifted the lid. She made a kittenish sound in the back of her throat that hit him in the chest.

  Her reaction tickled him so much he gave her a squeeze. “You’re welcome and all that. It’s for you to remember me by, and everything we’ve gone through over the past few days during your Christmas break.”

  ~*~

  Izzy held the ornament in her palm, a fragile snowflake within a clear glass heart. A perfect fit. She closed her eyes and memorized the shape, all the while feeling his attention on her face as if his lips touched her. She raised her gaze to his, and didn’t care that her eyes filled with tears. “Even though it looks as if the snowflake is trapped within this heart, I vow to never feel trapped again!”

  “I want this ornament to be a promise that if at all possible, I will spend the rest of my Christmases with you.”

  “That perseverance we talked about earlier. First Corinthians 13 tells us love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

  “Good reference. You, my Izrael, carry my love. And my heart, though it still feels bruised because you put up such a fight over letting me drive you back to Colorado.”

  “Oh, Brock. You have my heart too. You’ve helped me find freedom in your love and in the love from our heavenly Father. I am going on that long ride with you because the Lord has convinced me I need you to complete something that is missing in me. No more talk about it. Dad will bring me to your place in the morning to save you some miles.”

  “I would have gladly gone to your parents’ home to pick you up, even if it is east before we go west. I need to thank your dad. I don’t know what it is about my make-up, but I need to feel necessary to you. Come here, I need you in my arms.”

  Don’t think. Feel.

  Izzy heeded the inner Voice and succumbed to Brock’s embrace.

  There was no reason to feel trapped by his love and eagerness to help her, without restricting her independence. Though she knew herself well enough that she’d still feel pressured at times, Brock had helped her see who she was meant to be in God’s eyes.

  God’s eyes. She couldn’t do anything in life without a struggle until she succumbed to God’s control. And that meant freedom. She thought having her own vehicle gave her freedom—the opposite of feeling trapped. But she’d been wrong.

  “We’re going to freeze out here, even if we’re snuggling. I know we’ll talk about a lot of things in the future, but something else has come to me tonight. Life isn’t based on performance, good personality, or a pretty smile. But on God’s design. Look at the way He designs a snowflake. And I thank you so much for this man-made one. I cherish it. I want to leave it with you so you can pack it away with your tree ornaments. We’ll unpack it together next year.”

  “Now that’s a plan I approve of.”

  Their lips met.

  She swam with the fuzzy whoosh of his igniting kiss. Then she swayed. Fuzzy whoosh, all right.

  He pulled back. “Fuzzy whoosh what?”

  She’d said it out loud? “Fuzzy whoosh is what you do to my head.”

  “So is that a bad thing?”

  “Oh, no. It’s a very good thing.”

  He chortle-snorted that warm sound she loved.

  “Staying in touch with me feels like the right thing to do.”

  “So if I asked you to promise yourself to me for the foreseeable future, and beyond, would that feel like the right way to stay in touch?”

  “Yes, Brock. I say yes!”

  “And I say done and doner.” He didn’t have to capture her lips.

  She surrendered without a second thought.

  “I was afraid you’d object. Maybe not an outright no, but I did expect a maybe. Or that you’d have to think about it. Or…”

  “You need to have more faith in yourself.”

  “I don’t need faith in myself. All I need is faith in God. And I thank Him for you, Izzy. You’ve helped me see how God sees me. I don’t have to continually work out my salvation by doing good works with my old attitude. If God called me to study the Bible and minister through writing, then I’ll do it. The way I see it, God gave me that desire, so God will give me the ability to finish the task.”

  “I follow your drift and I feel what you’re saying, my Brock. God sees us as important or He wouldn’t have chosen us to be born or had us meet one another. Now what I want to feel, mister, is another kiss.”

  “If we keep up this kissing thing, we’ll miss the beginning of the movie. Or an officer will knock on the window. I want to say I’ll go anywhere your future may take you. That is, if you want me to follow along. Because a writer can write from anywhere.”

  “You could follow me to the ends of the earth, to the moon and beyond, but I’d prefer we go side by side.”

  “Let’s go then, my Izzy. Take me to the moon with your sweet fuzzy whoosh lips. We can always go to a movie.”

  A note from the author

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story.

  Many times, we
allow childhood events to scar us long into adulthood. I hope you all have overcome hurts, imagined or real, related to your parents, or guilt over a situation far out of your control.

  If you want to stay with Izzy and Brock a bit longer, you could revisit them by writing a review. Reviews are always welcome and Amazon is a good place to post them.

  May our Lord bless you, and I thank you again.

  I also wish you renewed hope in the meaning of Christmas. The manger is always connected to the message of the cross.

  In Him,

  LoRee

  Thank you

  We appreciate you reading this White Rose Publishing title. For other inspirational stories, please visit our on-line bookstore at www.pelicanbookgroup.com.

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