by T. K. Chapin
“When we fight or get in an argument with someone, it’s our selfishness and our self-will that are fighting. They’re waging war. But that battle starts long before a word is uttered from your or my own lips. You see, our battles are not of this world. Ephesians 6:12 says, ‘For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.’ We are each fighting a war inside us each and every morning we wake up, whether we admit to seeing it or not. It’s reality. It’s a battle of darkness and light that is continually fighting. There are powers at work that you cannot see with your naked eye. But guess what? You can feel it. It’s behind every curse thrown at you. It’s felt when you get chewed out for taking a stand for God’s truth. Have you ever had that happen? Someone is just hateful toward you, and yet you still have joy in your heart? Do you know why your joy doesn’t leave? I’ll give you a hint to how it’s possible. I believe that it’s God wrapping His big and comforting arms around you and giving you that peace, that joy. That joy comes from the Lord, and it’s because our Lord Jesus Christ has overcome the darkness and has done so with His light. When we walk in His Truth and walk in the Spirit, nothing can touch our joy.”
He stepped away from the pulpit, appearing to be more comfortable as ever, and came right to the edge of the stage. “As you all know.” His gaze landed on me, then panned the rest of the audience. “We are living in dark times. Not only America, but in the world. And a lot of times, it can feel like a lonely place out on the battlefield of life, but guess what? You have God on your side. He’s right there. He’s helping you, fighting for you, and destroying the enemy, time and time again. Our part in all this is not to let the flesh win the battle within us on a daily basis. We cannot give Satan a foothold in our life if we want to experience all that God has for us. Listen and read the text, dear brothers and sisters in Christ.”
He walked back over to the pulpit and pressed a finger against his Bible. “Listen to the selfish and self-seeking flesh in action. ‘You desire but do not have, so you kill. You covet but you cannot get what you want, so you quarrel and fight.’ Do you desire and not have? Do you want but cannot have, and so you fight? Let me ask you this. Whose will are you seeking with your actions in life? Are seeking your will or God’s will?”
Chapter 41 - James
LOOKING ACROSS THE SMALL LAKE of faces in the audience, I peered upward at the clock hanging on the back wall as I closed in on my forty minutes to preach. I knew I only had minutes left to close and wrap this up. I could’ve kept preaching all night if they’d stay and listen. Closing my Bible, I walked away from the pulpit once more and came down the steps off the stage.
Breaking the silence in the room, I gently asked a question that I had to ask myself every day since I decided to get sober and recommit to the Lord.
“Are you asking God or telling God what you want in your life? Because if you’re trying to tell God how things need to be, I’ve got news for you. It’s not going to go well. We have to submit to the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ in our lives. We have to shed away the old self-seeking will and flesh that hangs onto us for dear life. Most of you know me, know of my past. I had to put the past behind me. Did I mess up along the way? Yes, and I still do make mistakes. God doesn’t want to restrict us and put us into little boxes of good behavior. God simply wants what’s best for us in our lives. He loves us more than anyone else, and He cares about us more too. And my favorite, God understands us better than we understand ourselves. Let’s pray.”
The musicians returned to their positions on stage and started playing I am a child of God lightly.
“Lord, if there’s a heart here tonight that hasn’t come to know You yet, please help them slip out of that aisle and come. Now is the day for Salvation, Your Word says. Not in a year, not in a week, but right now. You welcome all, no matter what issues they have going on, no matter how messed up their life is. I’m the perfect example of Your being graceful with someone who is messed up. I pray tonight that You help encourage those lost hearts to surrender to Your design.”
A man stepped out of a row of seats and approached me at the front. As he came closer, I realized I recognized him.
It was Brad, my old co-worker from the furniture store. My eyes welled with tears as I opened my arms up to embrace him.
He cried into my shoulder.
“I just lost my sister two nights ago. I know she believed in the same stuff you did, James. I want to see her again someday in Heaven.”
“Let’s pray together.”
After praying with him, Charlie came over and took him over to the seats up front and started talking with him.
I spoke to the crowd gathered there tonight. “We’re going to go ahead and close with a song. If you felt that tug and need to talk to someone, reach out. Either to me, to Pastor Charlie, or anyone else you can see. Don’t let the night slip away, and possibly, eternity.”
Everyone began to sing along with the musicians, and I walked the aisle to the back of the sanctuary and to the double doors.
As I waited out in the foyer, Charlie came out.
“Was it okay?”
“It was perfect. Spot on Biblically. You did great, Associate Pastor James Anderson.”
We hugged, and with the reality of my calling coming to fruition, my eyes welled with tears. I felt undeserving, unworthy, and humbled to be able to be in the position of associate pastor, and I had a feeling God was glad I felt that way. “I promise I won’t take this position lightly, Pastor.”
“I know you’ll do great, just like your father did.”
The song in the sanctuary concluded, and the doors of the sanctuary flung open. People flooded out from the sanctuary and over to speak with me. As I shook hands and hugged with many of the members, I was overwhelmed by all the love and kindness the people showed toward me. Honestly, I had been a little nervous about the members being accepting of me being up behind the pulpit given my track record, but they were overjoyed.
Bethany, with tears running down her cheeks, appeared next in the line of people, and she jumped at me, hugging me tightly.
“Where is my brother, James? That was not him up there!” she declared as she laughed and cried into my shoulder.
“Thanks, Sis.”
Releasing me, she looked squarely into my eyes. “You did great. You really did. You know I wouldn’t tell you you did if I didn’t think so.”
We both laughed and I nodded. “You are pretty truthful with how you feel about things.”
Next in line was Mark. He shook my hand firmly. “Your dad would be proud, James. I don’t know if they can see us at all from Heaven, given the fact it’s in another dimension of time and space or whatever, but if he saw you tonight, he’d be proud, I know it.”
“Thanks. God is good. Anything good that came out of my mouth tonight was from God. Not me.”
“Right thing to say. Stay humble, brother.” He patted my shoulder and went on to shake hands and talk to Charlie beside me.
Grace was next, and she beamed with a grin. No tears, but joy illuminated her face. “I’m so proud to call you my brother. You know, when I moved back, I never thought I’d see you come around. But you have, and I know it’s all because of God.”
“I’m glad you can see it as God. It truly was all Him!”
We hugged.
Behind her was Brad.
“I’m going to heaven!” he declared, arms wide and heart open.
We embraced, and I patted his back as I smiled.
“That’s great news. You’re now a brother in Christ. Today is truly the first day of the rest of your life. You’re free.”
He patted the Bible in his hand. “I’m going to read this every day so I can do battle the right way.”
“Good.” I smiled. “You’ll have to come out to Diamond Lake more often.”
“I will. It was good to see you again
, James.”
Behind Brad was the final person in the line—Faith.
“You did so well.”
“I kept looking at you every time I felt a little nervous up there. It helped, having you in the crowd tonight.”
She smiled and it warmed me. Leaving the wall with Faith’s arm wrapped around my arm, we headed for the doors that led outside. Faith and I were only just beginning our journey in life together, but I knew with God on our side, we could do anything. In this life, Christians aren’t promised in the Bible that things will be easy, but we are promised that God will always be with us. We’re all on a journey of grace, hope, and faith.
The End.
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Love’s Return (Click/Tap here to view on Amazon)
Prologue
THE FIRST TIME I LAID eyes on Kirk was back in our senior year of High School while I was walking the track with Chloe. He was beneath the bleachers lip-locked with Vicky Haggar from the cheerleading squad. This wouldn’t have been an issue outside of the fact that he was dating my best-friend, Chloe. Not exactly a best first impression.
Two years later when I was twenty, I decided to relocate from Albany, New York, to Spokane, Washington. Kirk had found out about the big journey across country through mutual friends and approached me about road tripping together. I quickly rejected him. When he offered to pay for all the gas, I couldn’t help but give in. With over 2,000 miles to reach Spokane and a strong desire not to rely on my parents anymore, I knew his gas money would help me in the long run. I was on my way to Spokane to stake a claim in my independence from my parents and to work at a software company as a receptionist. Kirk had been into hockey and hoped for a chance at the big leagues by trying out for the Spokane Chiefs.
Through the long journey across the country, somewhere between Buffalo and Cleveland, I suspect, Kirk and I became friends. During our time together on the road, we laughed about Mrs. Bovey, our ninth-grade English teacher who hated children far too much to be teaching them in a school. We also shared our hopes and desires for the future.
When we finally arrived in Spokane five days after we left our hometown, I not only had a handful of memories from our road trip but a longing for something more for us. The trip had given me a chance to see past the façade he had put on in high school and see the real Kirk. At one stop along the way, at a gas station out in the middle of nowhere, he opened my car door for me. Then another time, he grabbed me my favorite candy bar without my even having to ask. When I became tired of driving, he’d willingly take over even if he was tired. Beyond those sweet gestures, I learned of a man who held a lot of regret over his checkered past. He had high hopes to start afresh and make a new life for himself in Spokane. Beneath all the muscles, I found a man with a big heart.
I couldn’t give into my desire to see him again, though, or to possibly have a relationship. He was, after all, Chloe’s ex-boyfriend. I dropped him off at the bus stop where his friend was picking him up and said goodbye for what I thought was forever.
Chapter 1-Jessica
FIVE YEARS AND TWO JOBS later, I was on my way to work when I stopped in at a favorite local coffee shop of mine downtown, Milo’s, for an extra boost of caffeine. I had already been running late for work as it was, sleeping through all three of my alarms. There was a reason to the madness. It was all due to my friend Isabella, who had kept me up half the night on the phone. She was like me, single and living on the hopes of someday being swept away by a gallant gentleman who would show us the love we needed. We talked last night about how miserable she was being single in a world full of married men, the only single ones being creeps. I understood the pain of loneliness, but only to a certain degree. My singleness was part of who I was. It had almost become a friend. Sure, I wanted someone to love and hold, but I had to trust the fact that God was in control and knew my heart. Plus, I had my work, which filled much of my time.
Standing in the coffee shop near the counter, I waited for my order. I had on my new white pea coat I had just picked up the other day at the mall. When I saw it hanging on the rack on my way through Macy’s, I instantly fell in love with it. It went perfectly with my red bucket hat, which I was also wearing. Scrolling through emails on my phone as I waited for my coffee, I felt the pressure of the day catching up with me. Already several new messages. Two from Micah, my boss, one from the graphics department on a design mock-up, and a reply from a pastor I had interviewed a couple of months back. Working at a startup magazine was anything but easy, but I loved every second of it. Not only was I a writer and reporter, but my boss, Micah’s, go-to person for whatever he needed. Sometimes, it meant donuts and coffee on my way into work, and sometimes, it meant writing ten articles in five days and spot-checking the print run at two o’clock in the morning, four hours before it went to print. It was hard work, but it carried purpose and I thrived on purpose.
“Kirk,” the barista said behind the counter, setting a cup down.
It took a moment for the name to register in my mind, but when it did, my heart leapt as I lifted my eyes to find the face that went with the name. I didn’t think about him often, but when he did brush across my thoughts, it was always with fondness for the time we’d shared together on the car trip five years ago. Over the years, the man had stayed with me in the depths of my soul, along with regret. Regret over the fact I hadn’t pursued him the day I dropped him off at the bus stop. We hadn’t spent time together before our car ride, but the time we did share over the trip was something special and close to my heart still to this day.
Surveying the coffee shop, I held onto the short string of hope I had carried all these years. It was like a loose thread from a piece of clothing that I knew if I pulled, it would unravel the whole thing. I refused to part with it. There was no certainty that Kirk still lived in Spokane, but it didn’t stop me from holding onto the possibility. My friend Chloe, back in Albany, hadn’t spoken his name in years, understandably, and I’d never found his name on the Spokane Chiefs’ roster (I checked every season), but still . . . I refused to part with the string.
“Thanks,” a man said, his voice rugged, worn.
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One Thursday Morning (Click/Tap here to view on Amazon)
Prologue
To love and be loved—it was all I ever wanted. Nobody could ever convince me John was a bad man. He made me feel loved when I did not know what love was. I was his and he was mine. It was perfect . . . or at least, I thought it was.
I cannot pinpoint why everything changed in our lives, but it did—and for the worst. My protector, my savior, and my whole world came crashing down like a heavy spring downpour. The first time he struck me, I remember thinking it was just an accident. He had been drinking earlier in the day with his friends and came stumbling home late that night. The lights were low throughout the house because I had already gone to bed. I remember hearing the car pull up outside in the driveway. Leaping to my feet, I came rushing downstairs and through the kitchen to greet him. He swung, which I thought at the time was because I startled him, and the back side of his hand caught my cheek.
I should have known it wasn’t an accident.
The second time was no accident at all, and I knew it. After a heavy night of drinking the night his father died, he came to the study where I was reading. Like a hunter looking for his prey, he came up behind me to the couch. Grabbing the back of my head and digging his fingers into my hair, he kinked my neck over the couch and asked me why I hadn’t been faithful to him. I had no idea what he was talking about, so out of sheer fear, I began to cry. John took that as a sign of guilt and backhanded me across the face. It was hard enough to leave a bruise the following day. I stayed with him anyway. I’d put a little extra makeup on around my eyes or anywhere else when marks were left. I didn’t stay because I was stupid, but because I loved him. I kept telling my
self that our love could get us through this. The night of his father’s death, I blamed his outburst on the loss of his father. It was too much for him to handle, and he was just letting out steam. I swore to love him through the good times and the bad. This was just one of the bad times.
Each time he’d hit me, I’d come up with a reason or excuse for the behavior. There was always a reason, at least in my mind, as to why John hit me. Then one time, after a really bad injury, I sought help from my mother before she passed away. The closest thing to a saint on earth, she dealt with my father’s abuse for decades before he died. She was a devout Christian, but a warped idea of love plagued my mother her entire life. She told me, ‘What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.’ That one piece of advice she gave me months before passing made me suffer through a marriage with John for another five trying years.
Each day with John as a husband was a day full of prayer. I would pray for him not to drink, and sometimes, he didn’t—those were the days I felt God had listened to my pleas. On the days he came home drunk and swinging, I felt alone, like God had left me to die by my husband’s hands. Fear was a cornerstone of our relationship, in my eyes, and I hated it. As the years piled onto one another, I began to deal with two entirely different people when it came to John. There was the John who would give me everything I need in life and bring flowers home on the days he was sober, and then there was John, the drunk, who would bring insults and injury instead of flowers.
I knew something needed to desperately change in my life, but I didn’t have the courage. Then one day, it all changed when two little pink lines told me to run and never look back.