by Ellie Mack
Simple words, “Behold, a virgin shall be with child and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.” -Matthew 1:23
Those words speak truer now than I ever thought they would.
God with us…
God with me.
No matter how many times I have walked passed it, which must have been a thousand times, my eyes seem to always find it and read it. I felt as if it is now a tradition, at least for me.
Stepping back once more, I take the room all in and breathe the evergreen one last time. Peace overwhelms me more than ever before. No matter what has happened or what will happen, I know that I will never be alone.
Finally, I turn around, and my smile brightens as I find him standing there, waiting patiently for me to finish. His hand reaches out for me. Moving closer, I notice that his delicate smile reaches his eyes, reassuring me that things will be alright. Then all my worry, which I did not know I was holding deep down inside me, begins to dissipate. A weight lifts off my shoulders.
“It is time to go home,” he says as I grasp his warm hand. “They will come shortly.” Gently leading me to the front door of the house, he winks at me as we stand there for just a moment. Instead of opening the door in front of us, he waves his hand, and we walk straight through it. A warm light engulfs both of us. No fear of what will come next lingers in my thoughts now. All I think about now is about the warm hand holding mine.
Without looking back, I follow him until the light is so unbearable that I must close my eyes. As soon as I do, I feel the light change behind my eyelids. Curious, I reopen them, and I stand in front of a crowd. A very large crowd of people I know. People I love. They are in their best suits with the largest smiles, standing in front of me and Jesus.
My Family.
About Mai Jagyar
Mai lives in a small town in Missouri. Currently single, but living with her sister, she works for a small printing company full time. However, she daydreams about having her own company. Dream big or go home, right?
Some side jobs are being a sound technician at her church, mission work overseas, and volunteers for disaster relief. She may seem like she is busy all the time, but she does have some time on her hands. She wouldn’t get any writing done otherwise.
Socializing is not her specialty, but she craves attention as any normal human being would. Nonetheless enjoys her solitude when she can acquire it. The outdoors and riding her bike inspire her imagination for the many stories in her head and she has a love for games (PS4 mostly) they help along that line when she may be stuck on what to do next. As small as this introductory is she loves to write yet dislikes talking about herself. Wish her luck and thank you so much for reading this and any work that she has done.
Email: [email protected]
Word Press: http://thenormwithchrist.wordpress.com
or http://maijagyar.wordpress.com
Christmas was once again upon Marcy, but she didn’t feel like celebrating. Normally, this time of year brought a smile to her face, made her giddy with excitement. Not this year. She’d been struggling for the past couple of months, unable to get out of her funk. Her friends had tried to help her…it hadn’t worked. Which was probably why she was currently sitting in a dark bar she’d never been in before, drinking alone when she was supposed to be at her parent’s house during her winter break from college.
“Do you see that?” the bartender asked in awe, his voice rising above the buzz of the crowd filling the bar.
Looking up, Marcy could see that he wasn’t necessarily talking to her as he stared at something over her shoulder. She twisted her head to peer behind her and found nothing. What exactly did he see that she didn’t? The only thing there was some guy standing on the small makeshift stage in one of the darkened corners of the room. Surely that couldn’t be it. This place had a stage, so they had to have live music in here regularly. Right?
“What?” she finally questioned.
“He’s back,” the big burly man behind the dark mahogany bar told her, his lips tugging upward into a smile.
“Who’s back? The kid on stage?”
The bartender’s kind brown eyes finally met hers. “Yeah, he’s been gone for a while. Never thought I’d see him again.”
“Shouldn’t you be stopping him? Isn’t someone else going to perform tonight?” Marcy tucked a strand of her straight, mousy brown hair behind her ear. It wasn’t that she cared because she’d only come to drink her mood away, but to allow someone to just take over when you weren’t expecting them, seemed a little out of the ordinary.
Smirking, he shook his head. “No.”
Unable to stop her bad mood from spilling over, she huffed, “Why not?”
“That stage is his. Always has been.”
“I don’t understand,” she snapped.
“You will.”
Suddenly, music filled the room, and a hush fell over the crowd. The man didn’t have a microphone, but his voice could be heard clearly, enveloping everyone like a warm blanket.
“Do you hear what I hear?” the bartender addressed her.
Marcy did. The voice filled her with peace and–for the first time in months–hope. The baritone timbre of his voice was deep and melodic, soothing her with each note he sang.
A cooling drop of liquid flowed down her cheek, and she realized then that her eyes stung with the rest of her unshed tears. What was it about this man? About his voice? He’d been able to touch her when no one else could.
The song ended, and she turned to the bartender. “Who is he?”
“Rex.”
“As in T-Rex?”
Laughing, the bartender shook his head. “Just Rex. He used to come in here and play when he was in high school, and then again in college. Then one day, he left without saying much. Some said he was offered a recording contract; and some say that he went backpacking to try and get his following, playing in various clubs and bars. A type of tour I guess you could call it.”
“Wait a minute. You work here, and you don’t even know? He didn’t give you notice?”
“Nah. We never had a formal agreement. He came and went, playing on nights when he had time.”
“What if you had another act scheduled?” Marcy questioned, a little confused and shocked that this establishment would allow such unprofessional and immature behavior. To her, it didn’t matter if this guy had been a kid or not. High school was old enough to know better.
“Another act?”
Rolling her eyes, she pointed behind her toward the area the man stood, tuning his guitar. “An act scheduled for that stage.” Her eyes closed as the chords of another song filtered through the air.
“That stage is all his. We’ve had other performers, but they didn’t come around until he left, and that stage hasn’t been used for the past two months.”
Funny how the stage had been empty the same amount of time she’d felt empty herself.
Her body hypnotically swayed to the music. She knew this song. It was one of her favorite Christmas Carols, Do You Hear What I Hear?, but his version connected to her very soul. Listening to him, anything else she’d wanted to ask…words were lost to her.
Marcy stayed there, enraptured by the music, allowing it to fill her, renew her. And when he was done, he made his way to the bar. She could only stare at him, unable to drop her gaze.
“This is a surprise,” the bartender declared when Rex approached and took the seat next to Marcy. Her body hummed with his nearness.
“I was in town and decided to grace you with my presence,” Rex quipped, winking at the larger man.
Up close, he wasn’t what she expected. On stage, he’d looked leaner, almost gangly, but next to her, she could see how his t-shirt pulled tight against his arms and chest, defining his muscles. His black hair was short on the sides and long on top, allowing his bangs to hide his eyes, but not the full, red lips that wrapped around the straw that came with the coke the barte
nder had passed to him.
Stop it! She chastised herself silently. For two months she’d been in a mood and a few songs sung by a hot guy, snapped her out of it? It didn’t seem possible.
“You sounded great,” she rushed, her words coming out a little louder than necessary. Marcy hadn’t actually been planning on saying anything, but her mouth had betrayed her.
Turning to look at her, Rex smiled brightly. “Thank you. I’m Rex Basil.”
She thrust her hand out, offering it to him to shake. “I’m Marcy Michaels.”
A dimple appeared on his right cheek when he chuckled. “Sounds like a tongue twister.” But he took her hand and kissed the knuckles. “Nice to meet you, Marcy.”
“You too.”
“Have you been here before?”
Shaking her head, she said, “No. This is my first time.”
“New to the area?”
“No. I’ve lived in Austin my whole life, but I was passing by and decided to stop for a drink.” Why was she flirting? She never acted like this. Instead, she was normally shy and kept to herself. Maybe that was her problem–loneliness.
“I’m glad you did,” he whispered with a grin.
Mirroring his smile, she had to agree. Maybe Christmas wouldn’t be so bad this year.
It was cold.
Too cold.
Tara shivered within her wool coat. In Chicago when the wind blew while the snow fell, it felt like Antarctica–not that she had been there. She hadn’t been expecting the snow until next month, it was only November for God’s sake, and already she wanted to burrow herself inside a warm cocoon and stay there until summer because not even spring would be warm enough right now.
“Stupid freak snowstorm,” she grumbled as she moved along the sidewalk, trying to get home where she could crank up the heat. She’d wanted to go to Florida or somewhere tropical for the winter season, but two things held her back: the money and her pregnancy. Glancing down at her engorged stomach, she sighed. “Almost there.”
The pregnancy hadn’t been planned, and as soon as her boyfriend found out about it, he’d disappeared never to be seen again. What happened to men who wanted a family, who weren’t afraid of commitment, and who worshipped the women they loved? Her two sisters had found that, so why couldn’t Tara? Instead, she found losers and men who wanted her until the words responsibility and commitment were tossed around.
Sighing again, Tara leaned against the glass building she’d been walking by. She just needed a moment to rest. This pregnancy was taking a lot out of her both mentally and physically, and she wasn’t even sure how she was supposed to take care of a baby when it arrived, which could be any day now. She’d always been carefree, and probably the most irresponsible of her siblings–at least, that’s what her parents constantly told her. This didn’t exactly bode well for my unborn son, she thought as she rubbed her basketball stomach.
“Are you all right, ma’am?”
Tara raised her head and met the eyes of one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. “Uh…um…what?” She couldn’t seem to recall his question. He grinned, and she sucked in a breath. His salt and pepper hair had been brushed back and styled perfectly, his piercing blue eyes were hiding behind a pair of black framed glasses, and the short beard he sported made him look sexier. But it was his smile that made her heart sputter.
“Are you all right? You’ve been standing out here for about ten minutes, and it’s too cold to be…well, in your condition. I’m Max by the way,” he stated, sounding nervous and unsure of himself at the end. When he’d been leaving work for the evening, Max saw this woman leaning against the frigid glass of his building; and he watched her closely. Intrigued. She’d turned her head a few times, and he had to bite his lip to hold back the moan. She was gorgeous. However, when she didn’t move from her spot, something inside him urged him to check on her. He hadn’t been expecting the large stomach though. No wonder she had to stop. “Should I call your husband?”
“No husband,” she snapped and instantly felt guilty. It wasn’t like this guy knew anything about her private life.
“Oh, sorry. Wife? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? You can tell me to shut up any time now.” He was rambling, and Max did not ramble, but the full red lips paired with the ivory skin and stormy gray eyes bewitched him. He’d be lying if he didn’t say her lack of husband made him happy. He only hoped he would still feel that way when she answered him again.
“Nothing. I’ll just be on my way.” Tara tried to push past him, intent on getting home. Her back and feet were killing her, and she swore her body was completely frostbitten. Only, when she brushed his shoulder, she felt a jolt in her heart and then in her stomach. Doubling over, she screamed with pain. She’d been having back pains since last night, but she thought it had been the bowling ball she was carrying around.
Without thinking, Max lifted her in his arms, deposited her in a taxi that had just pulled up to drop someone off, and got in, yelling, “Hospital, now!” He couldn’t leave her. No one should have to deal with this alone, but it was so much more than that, and he didn’t completely understand it.
Looking down at the small baby she held in her arms, Tara cried tears of joy. “You are going to have the best life, Aiden,” she promised. Something about holding him made it real, brought things into perspective, and gave her the conviction to do everything she could for her son. She’d never understood that until Aiden had first been placed in her arms.
A knock at the door pulled her focus away from her son. And when she searched for the reason behind her temporary distraction, she found the stranger, Max, peeking his head in. He’d stayed by her side and even coached her through the birth, but she wasn’t exactly sure why.
“May I come in?” Max asked, a smile on his face. As soon as this beautiful woman–he’d been told her name was Tara–had given birth, he’d stepped out to give the doctors and nurses room to work, and to allow Tara time with her child…even if that had been the opposite of what his heart told him to do.
“Sure,” Tara grinned. When Max settled in the seat next to the bed, she said, “Thank you for everything. You didn’t have to.” She’d had the nurse call her parents and sisters when she’d gotten to the hospital, but they hadn’t arrived yet. Her sisters were both in Virginia and wouldn’t be coming in until Christmas, and her parents had been on vacation in Florida–damn them.
“You needed somebody.”
“So, you just play hero to every pregnant woman you meet?” she teased, snickering.
“I have to say, you’re the first, and I’m not sure I’m going to make a habit of it.” He smirked.
“Would you like to hold him?” she asked, nodding toward her baby.
Max felt nervous. He’d never held a baby before. Sure his brother had a kid, but they lived in California, and Max maybe saw them once or twice a year. “Um sure?”
Giggling, Tara told him, “You’ll be fine.”
Carefully, Max took the baby into his arms and never wanted to let go.
One year later…
“Are you sure you can’t go to New York to meet with the client?” Max’s secretary asked.
“I’m sure. Aiden’s first birthday is tomorrow, and Tara said something about needing to get the house ready for the party,” Max replied, a smile lighting up his face, which happened whenever he thought about his wife and adopted son. It was funny how life had changed in such a short period of time.
“Good!”
“Excuse me?”
“I remember when you did nothing except run the company, working practically 24/7. It’s nice to see you happy.”
“It’s nice to be happy.” Max’s grin grew.
Two lonely souls had been searching for something…someone, and then a miracle happened. They found each other, filling them with light and warmth, pushing the loneliness away.
“Did you know that your son, Brandon, would someday run for office and quite possibly win?”
Charlotte smiled,
watching her son wave from a small stage set up in the middle of their small town. The reporter asking the questions had been trying for months to interview her, and until now, she’d put it off. “Yes, I knew that one day he would do what he could to change the world.”
“How?”
Moving her gaze from the stage to the reporter, Charlotte asked, “I’m sorry, but what was your name again?”
“Chester Field,” he answered.
She quirked an eyebrow and nodded, but didn’t say anything for the moment. Instead, her eyes followed her son as he moved back and forth across the stage for a couple of minutes before she finally said, “Because he’s always been that way.”
It was easy to remember her child when he was a boy. So caring and thoughtful. Most mothers probably felt that way about their children, but Brandon was different. He’d cry whenever he would see homeless people on the street, even going as far as giving one man his favorite travel blanket when he was six. Charlotte and her husband, George, had been scared to death and pulled their son away as quickly as possible.
Grinning, she shook her head at the memory. Brandon had always been able to look past the book cover and see what’s truly on the inside, never letting his fear or doubts rule him. And that was why when her son had announced he wanted to run for office to try and change things, she hadn’t been shocked at all. In fact, she and George had been betting on when it would happen. George won. She thought it would’ve happened sooner.
“Care to elaborate?” Chester questioned. He’d been trying to get this interview for months, ever since Brandon Akrons had decided to run for state senate. Here was a nobody who no one had ever heard of, never held public office, and he’d jumped into a big race like state senate. The thing that blew everybody’s mind, Brandon was ahead in the polls and held a sizable lead.