A New Day

by Nancy Hopper

  Tasha closed her eyes, as her conscience smote her. Darn Timothy, he certainly had a way of intruding upon her peace! She looked up at Lucinda, and tried to smile. "Well, I did sort of promise him that I'd go to his conference."

  "Oh." Lucinda said with relief. "Then you'll be in a hurry to go?"

  "No. I don't think I will." Tasha denied stiffly.

  Lucinda gave her a hollow, wide-eyed look that made her want to crawl under the table. She simply could not stand the look in Lucinda's eyes.

  "All right. All right, Lucinda, you can stop looking at me like that. I will go." She said hotly.

  Tears flooded Lucinda's eyes. "Thank you, Miss Tasha. I could not fathom you breaking a promise. Especially to someone like Mr. Timothy."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Tasha asked sharply. "Has he got you charmed and eating out of his hand, too?"

  Lucinda's eyes softened. Tasha didn't even realize what she'd implied about herself, in that statement. "I think that he is yes, very charming. And very trustworthy, and handsome, and delightful altogether. He is wonderful!"

  Tasha snorted, and stood up. "Whatever. Thank you for a lovely dinner. Children, let's put in a movie."

  Tasha appeared at the conference registration desk not long after the music ended. She could hear Tim's voice over the PA and knew she wouldn't have to face him. He was already on the stage.

  "Hi. My name is Tasha Taylor. I was invited by Tim Rain." She said lightly.

  “Yes, Ma'am. Mr. Rain also wanted you to have a parking spot this week, in the garage. Feel free to park in any one of the reserved spots on row K. Could I just have your license plate number so you don't get towed away?"

  Tasha gave the man the information, and then slipped into the Ballroom, hopefully unnoticed. She found a pillar to lean against, and kept her burgundy coat and hat on, for anonymity. She hadn't failed to see that woman reporter lurking in the coffee shop the night before, paying rapt attention to her and her escort.

  She stuffed her hands in her pockets, and forced herself to look up at Timothy. My, but he was a handsome thing! It struck her anew how very handsome he was. And he was definitely on fire, tonight.

  Wearing off-white jeans and cowboy boots, and a deep blue bib shirt of satin with white piping, he was looking extremely sharp and dashing, yet comfortable and very rugged. With the bib half undone, showing his throat and the off-white lining of the bib, he made Tasha smile.

  He looked less like a preacher than anyone she'd ever seen! The snakeskin boots were his usual style – classy, with an undercut heel, and very sexy.

  When he laughed, his dimples cut deep creases into his cheeks. He had the crowd on the edge of their seats, eating out of his hand. That lock of shiny, black hair fell over his eye, and he swept it back impatiently. Only to have it fall right back over his eye, again.

  His smile, white and perfectly framed under the heavy mustache, pulled at her heart. He had managed to endear himself to her, darn him! It was a thing she would rather not have considered, but the feelings would not go away!

  She realized now that she'd opened her heart to him quite a bit the previous evening, and no little argument had closed the gaping opening. He'd worked quite hard for it, she had to admit.

  "What in the sweet name of? What in the world am I doing here?" she muttered to herself.

  "You are here because you promised. Admit that you don't mind. He's both attractive and intriguing." A voice in her head challenged.

  "No! I will not!" She denied immediately. "He is very nice. We're just friends, of a sort. It was just a chance meeting. That's all."

  Tim's voice intruded on her internal debate. "Do you really think it's just a coincidence that you're here?" he accused hotly from the center of the stage. Tasha froze, but he wasn't even looking her direction. And, she'd been very careful to stay back in the shadows of the room.

  "God brought you here tonight, and it was no mistake! There is a plan and a purpose to every single thing He does. He is never wrong, and I wonder who in the world I am talking to?" Tim asked a crowd that had begun to chuckle at the abrupt turn of his discourse.

  "You know," he said, scanning the crowd with his piercing blue eyes, "Whoever you are; you and I are going to become very good friends. Very close." He said it as if it surprised him as much as the rest of them.

  “You are going to fulfill God's purpose for you. You're going to be here every night. I will know you when I see you, and you are going to open your heart to me, so that I can minister the heart of the Lord to you. He's sent you here specifically so that I can do that. For some reason, it seems I'm the only one who can do that, right now. Don't be afraid. Just know that the Lord will take care of everything. Who in the world am I talking to?" he demanded, looking at the microphone as if it had suddenly become some kind of magic wand.

  The hushed crowd began to roar and hoot with laughter. Tim laughed with them, and shook his head. "Don't you bother trying to run, whoever you are. Doggone it, I hate it when I can't figure out what's going on." He complained. "Well, time will tell us. He'll make it known. Now that we have that out of the way, maybe we can get back on track." Tim apologized, rolling his eyes mirthfully.

  The audience was obviously, absolutely delighted by him. He was personable, and funny, and very believable. And just when he had the crowd loosened up, he'd hit them hard with a serious truth that would strike like lightning. Tasha felt fear rise up in her as she watched him work the audience. He was very, very good.

  She fervently wished that she could just melt into the pillar. She had no doubt that Tim had been talking to her. That God had been talking to her! Tim couldn't even know that she was here. His back had been to the door when she came in, and she'd never left the shadows.

  She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, to stop frightened tears from spilling over onto her cheeks. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with this vibrant, sexy, smart, extraordinarily handsome and virile man. He was like a constant flame of prophetic knowledge, a fountain -- no, a volcano of God's fire.

  "He'll ruin me." She said matter of factly. No one was listening. "He will come into my life, and my whole world will simply incinerate." She prophesied silently.

  "I'm not going to ruin anything. I'm just going to help you set it all right, again." Tim answered vehemently. Then he looked in awe at the mic again. He turned it upside down and shook it. The crowd roared, and he looked at them sheepishly.

  "Oh, boy." He said ominously. "This is way out there. Who am I talking to? You're scared of God, and you're scared of me. Come on, now." He objected. "Just how long do you think you're going to be able to hide from God? You can run from me, but He'll just send another prophet to get in your face.”

  "Whoever you are, the Lord God Almighty has a purpose for you being here. He's got something He wants me to tell you. Now, come on. Come on up here right now, and let's just deal with it. Shall we? Don't be afraid."

  Tasha rolled her eyes, and gritted her teeth. "When Hell freezes over." She whispered defiantly.

  Tim tipped his head, and looked over the crowd with a critical eye. He gave a short, sardonic chuckle. "Okay. But I think it will happen long before then, because I don't remember it being written anywhere that Hell will ever freeze over." He answered patiently.

  Tasha paled, but he wasn't looking at her.

  "You keep running, and I'll just let God deal with you. I think I understand who I'm dealing with, now." He added, more for the crowd's sake. “I’m so glad you made it here tonight.” he added with a knowing gleam in his eye.

  Tasha was absolutely panicked, but Tim went on from there without a hitch. He knew she was there now, and he knew God was reading her mail, and he knew who he’d been talking to earlier. He even knew what she was thinking and it didn't seem to faze him. He just went on as if she'd never come through that door. She was certain he hadn't seen her and couldn't see her, yet. But God was sure giving him an open pipeline into her mind.

  After he was fin
ished speaking, Tim began flowing prophetically and he set the house ablaze with vision and excitement. He was incredibly hot and accurate with the prophecies. It was obvious from peoples’ reactions when he read their mail.

  His friend, Tom Phillips went up on stage, and took the mic from Tim when he paused to inhale a glass of ice water and dry his forehead.

  "And you." Tom said to Timothy, pointing a finger at him. "You, my friend, get a turn tonight, as well. Everything, Timothy, every last thing in your life is about to turn upside down. Everything you ever thought, will not be what you imagined it to be. You've been living in a world of your own making, until now. But it's come time now, that the very things that you said you were not going to do, you're going to find yourself doing. The very places you determined in your sometimes stubborn heart you were not going to walk ... that's exactly where you are headed, right now." He added with power.

  Two catchers raced up onto the stage and stood behind Tim as his knees buckled and he staggered backward a step or two.

  "And the things that you've always determined were not for you, you are going to find God offering to you, on a silver platter. And the Lord will make them to be sweet in your mouth, and your desire will kindle for them; and your heart will burn within you as you see what the Lord desires to give to you. You're going to develop a sweet tooth that you will daily beg God to satisfy.”

  "But these things, after all, will seem impossible to grasp. You will reach out your hand, and they will slip through your fingers. And you will be tested, my son, after the Lord has so completely changed your heart. And the Lord will ask you, 'My son, can you stand? How deep is the root of your faith?' And the thing that you desire with all your heart, the Lord alone will then deliver into your hand. He alone will demonstrate for the world to see, that truly – He is your God."

  Timothy fell, as though he’d been struck a sudden, forceful blow by some unseen force. The catchers were ready, and gently eased him to the floor.

  "Just when you are ready to despair; stand, son, and watch the salvation of your God. Lift up your eyes and heart then, and bless the Lord your God, for the moving of His hand in your life will be a miracle known to many. And my dear son; my obedient and faithful son, know this ..."

  Tom paused and appeared to reel as a surge of power hit him, "that the first taste of this new, sweet thing in your life will come to you this very week. Oh, my! I can actually feel this thing of which I speak, Timothy. It is here in our midst, even as I deliver the word to you. Step carefully but boldly – prophesy, and stake your claim before God and all of heaven when you are certain you know what it is, that I'm talking about.”

  "But you must also understand that there will be no fulfillment now. The timing is not quite correct. Do not strive for it or attempt to secure it in your own strength, for I say to you that this week, you will sow your seed. You will cast your hook.”

  "And as you see with your natural eyes the thing of which I speak, surely the seed of desire will be planted in your heart. You will taste, and be drunk as with wine. This week, son, you will behold and taste the sweetness of God's promise and goodness." He said, emphasizing each word.

  A ripple of excited laughter and amazement went through the crowd. No one had ever heard a personal prophecy quite like this one.

  Tim groaned softly, and covered his face with his arm. He was stretched out on his back, with one knee up. Nobody doubted the intensity with which the words were hitting him.

  "Timothy, you know I love you like a son. I sure wish I could tell you what's coming." Tom said gently. "I think it's going to bring you untold bliss, but after this first ... this one intoxicating taste, I fear that there will come considerable suffering for you.”

  “You're going to have to just hold onto the word of God, and your faith in His mighty hand. He will bring forth beauty out of ashes. Many will watch this unfold, and marvel at the hand of the Lord in your life."

  Tom winced, as if the words were painful to have to speak.

  Slowly, Tom turned to the house and raised his hand and his voice. He was looking into the eyes of people, one by one, making sure they were listening with undivided attention.

  "Now, I need you all to listen to me very carefully. What you just heard is not something I would have shared publicly unless I had to. It was urgent to the Lord that Timothy hear these words, right now. And, I believe, that God will want witnesses to the word and its fulfillment when it comes. But I can't stress and warn you all enough – the Lord is very serious about this Word, and what happens in Tim's life is a very serious matter.”

  “Each of you now has a responsibility, because you heard these words. You are not to repeat them; you are not to talk about them; you are only to pray for this man. The call of God on his life is awesome, and it is not to be tampered with. I am very serious about this. You have been privileged to hear the word of the Lord to this young man, and to watch the hand of God bring it to pass and fulfill it, in the days to come. It is a sacred trust, and one that I ask each of you to respect. What this young prophet will be facing over the next year or two will be very difficult. He will need your support, so please. Pray for him. Don't forget what you heard here, tonight."

  "Now," he went on, on a lighter note. "I think Tim's done prophesying for a few minutes, so let's get the worship team back up here, and get the ministry team up here, and let's just rejoice for Timothy, and enjoy the Lord together."

  Tasha knew she should leave, but she seemed rooted to the spot. She just watched the activity around her, and marveled at all that she'd seen and heard.

  After a time, Timothy struggled to his feet and walked over to talk to the bass guitarist. The guitarist took off his bass and pushed it toward Tim. Tim shook his head, but the young man seemed insistent.

  Tasha was intrigued as she watched Tim strap it on and settle in. When he started to play, Tasha felt her mouth drop open. He was extremely accomplished. He played very, very well. He was smooth and melodic, and knew when to play it straight, providing a strong foundation for the music – and when to add punches and accents, adding his unique flavor to the mix.

  After a few songs, the lead guitarist took off his guitar and offered it to Tim. The crowd started going wild, and so Tim shook his head and took off the bass guitar. The crowd noise rose to a roar as Tim strapped on the lead guitar, and walked up to the mic.

  "You guys," he objected, laughing. They just roared louder.

  Tim shook his head and made an exciting, screaming noise that sounded like a wildcat, come careening out of the guitar. As it died away, he counted off a fast beat, and the band came in with a driving rock sound.

  The crowd went totally berserk, and Tasha could see why. He was very, very good. Passionate, skillful and wild. The music he created caused her heart to pound hard in her chest.

  "Do you want more of Jesus? Do you want to go on with Him? Do you want to walk in the Spirit? Then get in the river and swim!" he roared at the microphone. The crowd reacted visibly.

  He could really sing! He was filled with raw power, raw emotion, raw purpose – and he was purely anointed.

  "You can have all you want to. Leave your cares behind. Leave your desires on the cross, you know this is the time. Get in the glory of the Lord; stay in His presence ever more; Get in the glory of the Lord, and carry on in His Name."

  He repeated the glory lines. The third time, he stopped playing and started clapping and singing it A Capella. It was wonderfully powerful. Then he smoothly slid his fingers down the strings and started playing again.

  Tasha was enthralled. He was incredible!

  After he'd played for a time, he put the guitar down and wandered off the stage, through the back. Tasha noticed several rather crestfallen faces as he disappeared into the hidden forbidden, instead of coming out front where he was accessible to the people.

  Tasha chuckled and shook her head. He was so full of surprises, it was no wonder he was in demand.

  And, this was her cue to le
ave. She'd kept her promise to him. She scooted out the front door, and hurried to the elevator. She was going to waste no time making her exit.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  She entered the elevator quickly when it opened, and pushed the lobby level button. This elevator opened from both sides. Sensing that someone was entering from behind her, she smiled absently and moved to one side. Unfortunately, she'd chosen the side away from the control panel.

  The cologne, the Presence and the power struck Tasha all at once. She shot toward the door, but it was too late – they were already moving. Then to her horror, Tasha saw that the Lobby button was no longer lit. She had certainly hit it, but it was dark, now.

  With a predatory smile, Timothy Rain pushed the button that would take them to floor six. "Well, well. Looks like you made a slight mistake in your timing. I didn't expect to see your pretty angel face, and it obviously wasn't your idea. Hello, Tasha. Nice of you to sneak in, tonight."

  Tasha made a frustrated noise, and tried to catch her breath as the fire engulfed her. It came from his eyes, and the Presence of the Lord was all over him.

  "I, um -- I'm glad I ran into you. I did want to apologize." She stammered. "Mr. Rain, I was very rude to you last night. I really couldn't feel good about it. Please know that I am very sorry." She said quietly. “I didn’t have any right to treat you so callously. I was not prepared, I just … don’t go around men. You were making me very nervous. I get kind of frightened. I’m sorry.”

  She felt him staring at her, but she couldn't make herself look into those eyes, again.

  "Well, it wasn't all your fault. I stepped in it, I admit that." He said with a sheepish grin. "Hey, are you hungry? I'm starving. Is there someplace we could sit and talk a little bit that won't be running over with conference people?"

  "Not unless we go to town." She denied. "But Lucinda always has the stove on."

  Tasha was as surprised as Tim was, by the offer she'd just made. "You could just stay in the guest room, and we could ski together tomorrow." She suggested. This offer shocked her even more than the last! What was she doing?!