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    Friday
    Nov232012

    Interceding For "The Johns"

             *Eve was waiting for him in a glade at the foot of the mountain. When he saw the dark circles under her eyes and the sadness in her face, Rapha wanted nothing more than to toss her over his shoulder and escape.

             “Have they hurt you?”

             “Oh no. It is known whose mother I am. They wouldn’t dare.”

             “Have you seen Cain?”

             “Yes.”

             “How is he?”

             “Miserable. But he is powerful, feared, honored… everything he desired,” she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Listen,” she hurried on, “I have news and I have only a short time.” Her face crumpled with grief and she struggled to continue. “The child’s mother, Lael, is… has… she took her own life.”

             “Were you able to tell her her daughter is safe?”

             “Yes,” Eve answered, “it was the only time she smiled. But the fear for her child was all she lived for. Once that fear was gone, she stopped living.” Eve shut her eyes tight. “I couldn’t blame her. The things the men did… oh, Rapha, the way they used her.” Eve’s face flushed and she jumped to her feet, tears shedding unheeded as she paced.

             “I am glad she killed the last one to use her! Adonai help me, I am! She rose as he slept, found his blade, slew him, and then… turned it on herself.” Eve fell to her knees, “Oh Adonai! How has Your creation come to this?” The rage and sadness warred across Eve’s face but after a moment’s despair she leapt to her feet to pace again.

              “I took her body to Cain. I screamed at him, of what I thought of his kingdom, of his… these savages he calls warriors. “‘You should die for speaking to me this way,’ he said, and I dared him to do it. I called him a coward and a murderer and begged him to kill me since I could not bear what he has become.”

    Her tirade of words stopped and she wilted to the ground. “That’s when I saw it, Rapha. For one short moment, the Cain I love was looking out of those eyes. He is lost. He is tortured. I want to hate him but… he is my son,”

    *excerpt from THE FALL, chapter titled "Rafe"

    ********************

    There are certain victims of sex crimes I’ve never considered praying for—the Johns.

    Not that I really want to pray for them.  Part of me would rather see them strung up old-West style.  But it stands to reason that, even if we see girls rescued and rehabilitated, the guys doing the pimping and buying will just find more victims.  It’s not really addressing the root of the problem.

    But when I consider these men caught in this web, I feel God tugging at my heart to see them through His eyes—to see them as brothers, sons, fathers, etc. who have a dirty reality that makes them believe they are as unredeemable as possible.  They hide and lie and most likely are tormented by demonic possession.  After all, wouldn’t someone need to be demon possessed to want to rape a child? 

    However, in the cold light of day, the broken heart of the wee morning hours is gone.  When I see my kids and think of what I would do to someone who tried to violate them, the death penalty is too lenient.

    But the fact remains that the perpetrators are broken men.  Once they were innocent babies.  How did they become what they are?

    And regardless of what experiences molded them, is Jesus’ blood enough for them too?  Can the pedophile, pervert, and possessed find new life in Christ?

    Thus I found myself, pre-dawn, praying for the three p’s.  I’ve begged God for years to see revival, but I admit spurring me to pray for broken men took some doing.  I didn’t want to think about it.  It’s easier to ignore the cold facts.

    When I think of the miracles of Christ, the one that represents what would be needed for a man caught in this type of perversion is the miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead.  A man caught in those lies and cruelty toward the weak and vulnerable needs total death and resurrection.  For him, it would be spiritual suicide followed by being a completely new creature—“It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.”

    But Jesus died to bring just such miracles.  And it’s not my job to judge and condemn.  It’s my job to intercede when God prompts me to intercede.

    Perhaps you are hiding a dirty secret that would ruin reputation, family, business and everything else if it was known.  How desperate are you?  Does it seem suicide is your only option for escape?

    Here’s a better option: commit spiritual suicide.  Throw yourself at the foot of the cross and exchange your life for Christ’s.  Lose your life for His sake and you will find it. 

    There is no better option and you’re never going to get a better deal.  Others may still condemn you, but Christ took on the torture you deserve.  No it’s not fair.  But if we all got what we deserve, we’d all be hanging on a cross for our sins.  It’s called grace—undeserved, but so powerful it can kill the evil that makes you want to die.

    Related articles:

    The Comfort Women: Forced Sexual Slavery in WW II

    Online Support For Pedophiles

    Morningside Sexual Addiction Treatment

    Tuesday
    Nov202012

    The Horror of Sex Trafficking

             *Slowly, as if emerging from deep fathoms of liquid warmth, Rapha became aware that Sheatiel was slumped against him. A gentle snore told him she was fast asleep. Moving slowly so as not to wake her, Rapha inched Sheatiel onto his lap in order to carry her to where Eve was sleeping.

             But when her head rolled against his chest and her small hand grasped a fold of his robe, Rapha stopped to enjoy the warm sense of companionship, the absence of alone-ness, that had become an accepted element of his circumstances. The feeling was so unexpected and sweet, he froze, gazing at Sheatiel’s velvety cheek and perfect, full lips, parted in the absolute peace of sleep only an innocent child enjoys.

             Rapha felt a wave of rage as he considered Sheatiel at the hands of evil men who would abuse such beauty. He hugged her closer and ran his large hand through the shining hair, letting the rippling curls slide through his fingers. Again the blissful scent of Adonai was in the air. Again tears ran down his cheeks, this time for the horror and cruelty she had endured. How could Adonai know and not intervene?

             Clearly the answer resounded in his heart, “I AM intervening now… through you.”

             And he was there, looking through Sheatiel’s eyes, feeling every violation, the sting of every blow, the despair and shock searing his mind to numbness. In the midst of this torture, the image of the Holy One, holding Sheatiel close in the same way Rapha held her, stroking the hair from her bloodied and bruised face, whispering endearments and weeping as Sheatiel lay, shivering and naked but too frozen inside to cover her body, hating herself too much to care.

             Then came peace; Adonai covering her with his mantle of love, and healing, salving every wound, inside and out.

             In her sleep, Sheatiel whimpered and buried her face in Rapha’s chest. Reflexively, his arms tightened around her and he whispered the language of heaven, his voice and heart slowing until there, on the hard ground... Rapha too slept, breathing in the essence of Sheatiel's grief and freedom.

    *excerpt from THE FALL--chapter twenty-six--"Death"

    *************************

             A young woman whose innocence and future are ripped away and destroyed.  Unfortunately, this is not just tragic make-believe. Sex trafficking is a multi-billion dollar industry that preys upon desperate young women and makes them human slaves. Yesterday, I heard an interview with Mary Bowley, founder of Wellspring Living, an organization that "walks alongside victims of sex trafficking."  Her words have played over and over in my mind... especially the part where she talked about working with girls as young as nine.  I have a ten-year-old daughter. 

             Thankfully, there are those who are making a difference in the battle against human trafficking.  But the startling numbers of those trapped in this horror reveal the war is far from over. Wellspring Living and Mary Bowley are on the frontlines.  Please check out their website, pray for them and order the book, White Umbrella: Walking With Survivors of Sex Trafficking.

             Proceeds will fund the continuing efforts to bring hope and a future to victims of trafficking.

    Amazon Link for the book, White Umbrella

    Link to Wellspring Living.org

    Link to Wellspring's YouTube Video

    Jer. 29:11
    "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

    Through Christ there is hope and healing. 

     

     

    Friday
    Nov162012

    Sanctity of Life--ANY Life?

     *However, while the war was no longer beating against the confines of their shelter, it raged stronger than ever inside the minds of those surrounding Rapha.  Adam’s struggle was understandable as he strove to support his wife, stroking the hair from her brow even as he struggled against feelings of revulsion toward the babe in his arms, the perfectly formed, eerily aware baby boy that gazed with innocence from thick-lashed eyes of prismatic beauty.  The iridescent glow was unmistakable.  He had his father’s eyes.

    But even greater than Adam’s struggle was the storm raging in Kal.  The little man was going through the motions of wiping the baby in his arms clean with water-soaked clumps of wool and preparing to wrap it in woolen strips set aside for that purpose, but his mind was tortured. 

    The sight of Eve’s distress during birth, the blood, gore and newborn wails, were bringing forth horrific memories for Kal.  The man’s protruding eyes stared down at the babe in his arms, but he was living another moment:  the beloved Eliana in travail, his own baby in his arms.

    Rapha was pulled into Kal’s emotional sphere even as he completed the stitches on Eve, cleansed the site one last time and added a light poultice of herbs to strengthen and protect the vulnerable wound. 

    Now he must tend the babys’ cords, cut them short and burn the end to staunch the flow of blood.  After heating the sacrificial knife Rapha stepped toward Kal.

    Horror and fear flooded Kal’s features as he leapt to turn his back to Rapha, his bent body forming a living shield for the newborn in his arms.  “No!  It is not his fault!  You will not harm him!”

    Rapha reassured Kal.  “No, my friend.  I will merely burn the severed cord.  No harm will come to him.”

    Kal’s hands remained ready to intervene as the blankets were parted and the glowing knife approached.  When the scent of burned flesh assaulted his nose, the stoic warrior succumbed to his darkest nightmare.  Rapha tossed the knife back into the fire in the center of their shelter just in time to catch Kal’s crumpling form. 

    Smoke everywhere.  Flickering shadows and a sickening scent of burning herbs…the smell made his head heavy while something in his heart fought the sensation.  His heart.  It was his heart he cradled against his breast.  He was handing her over.  No!  He must snatch her back from them, from the men with their flowing robes and noble faces that flickered in the wafting fumes to become hideous, grasping beasts, licking their lips, eager for a kill.

    When Kal came to, he was on his back outside the shelter with a cold rain lashing his face and Rapha’s concerned expression above him.

    Panic once more flooded in.  “Where is the baby?  What have you done?”

    “Both the babies are with Adam.  All is well.”  Rapha’s hand was on Kal’s shoulder. “No, do not rise.  You… fell over.”

    Kal leapt to his feet.  “Ugh!  A great lot of help I am!  Get in there and tend Eve.  I am fine!” 

    Rapha, noting the pounding vein in Kal’s temple and his trembling hands, knew this statement was far from true.  “Of course,” Rapha said as he stepped back inside the shelter’s heavy animal skin doorway. 

    But Kal’s memories continued to asail Rapha’s mind and he peeked out just in time to see Kal sink to his knees, knobby hands covering his face.

    With a quick invocation of Adonai’s peace, Rapha had to train his thoughts once more on the newborns... and their parents. 

    So much balanced on the knife’s edge of that moment.  Eve’s life hung by a fragile thread and, as Rapha continued his ministrations to her, he felt the turmoil in Adam’s heart. 

    There the young man stood, cradling the spawn of his enemy in his arms, his face a mask of fear, revulsion and, remarkably, pity. 

    “I cannot,” Adam gasped, “Please, Adonai, do not ask it of me.”

    Rapha did not need to ask what the Almighty required.  The words were pounding through his frame as well. 

    Adam, with dark circles under his eyes and Eve’s blood yet staining his garment, spoke Adonai’s directive, though each word ripped through his lips as if composed of flaming thorns.

    “Teach them My ways.  Love them with My love.  Nourish, cherish, and instruct them as your own flesh.”

    Soon, Eve revived enough to reach for the babies and Adam took them to her.  With coos of adoration she snuggled them close with an unquestioning maternal instinct.  Even the second-born babe responded well, grasping to a fold of her robe and drinking deep with an expression of bliss. 

    Physically, it appeared, all would thrive.  But Rapha needed no divination to know their struggle had just begun.

     

    *Excerpt of THE FALL (Rapha Chronicles #1) from the chapter titled "Birth"

    **********

    Do two wrongs make a right?  How about when the offspring in question is, literally, the spawn of the devil?

    This is the quandary of Adam as he holds Eve’s newborn child in his arms.  How can Adonai ask this of him?  Wouldn’t it fix the problem to just undo it?

    But God sees beyond the immediate circumstance.  To perpetrate another evil in order to counteract evil is not the answer. 

    However, we can see the future in this case.  We know from the biblical record that one of these babies will grow up and kill the other—the famous Cain and Abel story of the Bible’s first recorded murder.  So why didn’t God have Adam do the deed with proactive justice?

    And why would God encourage mercy at this juncture then bring a flood later to wipe out everyone on the face of the earth besides one man and his family?  These are valid questions without simple answers.

    These issues and more will be addressed in future posts (can you say “Pandora’s box?).  Suffice it to say for today’s discussion, the urge to “be our own god” is at the root of our world’s ills.  When we put our will and limited understanding ahead of submitting to God’s higher knowledge and fathomless love, evil wins.

    I could easily venture into the controversial waters of abortion and sanctity of life but I think my views are evident on that matter.

    However, what of those who lived?  What of those walking around today who feel unloved, unwanted and perhaps are even convinced they are a mistake?  What does God say? 

    Just know this.  God’s heart of love overflows for you regardless of the labels or experiences you’ve endured.  No, it is not God’s will for a child to be conceived out of wedlock, for a child to have to endure debilitating deformities, for a baby to be conceived through rape or incest or any other of a number of painful ways to begin life.  But even if those are the circumstances in which you were brought into this world, God’s message to you is one of love, grace, healing and redemption.

    Redemption is a strange word to our ears today.  Simply put, redemption is to make exchange or to “deliver by the payment of a ransom.”  Before you were born, God loved you and saw you as worthy of ransom.  Don’t ever believe or let anyone convince you of worthlessness.  When God looks at you, he sees a child worth living and dying for; a precious life worth Christ’s life, death and resurrection.  Jesus’ blood on the cross—literally the most precious substance in all history—was paid to ransom you. 

    That’s your worth. 

    God is reaching for you.  Please reach back.

    Chana is wife, mom of four and author of several novels--most of which are not available... yet.  Her first to make it out of the chutes is THE FALL, a biblical retelling of ancient times through the eyes of an angel who was once best friends with Lucifer.  She brakes for homemade cookies, Jane Austen and old barns. Reading a Jane Austen novel while munching cookies in an old barn--paradise.  Please check out the special holiday offer of THE FALL for only $8!  Click the link at the top of the page.

    Thursday
    Nov152012

    Adam Finds God Outside the Garden

    *One morning Adam rose early, gazing with tenderness on the girl-woman who slept on in the pre-dawn light.  He had been taught so much about how to manage animals and nature, but how could all that knowledge aid him when he simply needed to keep food in their mouths?  How he wished for Adonai’s limitless wisdom that he had enjoyed in the garden.  He recalled their conversations.  They usually followed a simple line.  He would ask a question and the Maker would answer, sometimes with another leading question, sometimes with a story.

    “How I need You, Adonai,” he intoned without thinking.  “I can’t believe You have forgotten us or didn’t have a plan for our survival here.  You know everything.  You are so kind and good, it is just so much harder to believe in You when I can’t see You every day.  But I know You.  You would not want her to be hungry.  You would show me a way if You could.  I know You hear me, but how do I hear You?What do you need? For God to do some sky-writing or something?

    He recalled the words Adonai had spoken when He had joined them as man and wife.  How did that go? 

    “For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and cleave to his wife and the two shall become one flesh.” 

    At the time Adam had not understood the meaning.  Now those words made sense.  He and Eve had finally become true mates when ties with their old life were severed and they were forced to rely on each other.  There had been nowhere to run when their pain had bubbled over.  They were forced to trust each other with their vulnerability and therefore they had melted into one—just as surely as two mounds of precious metal became one when Rapha had placed them in fire. 

    So this was part of Adonai’s plan?  No, Adonai could not intend evil, it was not in His nature, but He had known.  He had known everything that was to come.  He had even known their love would flourish outside the safety and ease of the garden.  So, could Adam surmise that Adonai’s plan was still unfolding according to its purpose?  Could he hope that he and Eve had not completely failed?  Hope warmed him.  Was Adonai so powerful He could even work beauty from their complete failure?

    That thought almost choked him.  Shouldn’t he hold that failure close to remain truly sorry for it?  Wasn’t it his future to dwell in that failure forever?  He could not fix it, he could not turn back time and undo it, but was it possible he needed to let it go?

    He hopped to his feet, pacing as the rim of morning sun blazed out to greet him.  He caught his breath at its beauty.  Overhead a flock of ducks flew east and appeared to be swallowed by its brightness just as a fresh breeze, like a kiss blown from Adonai’s mouth, brushed his cheek. 

    He recalled another conversation with Adonai when he had questioned why the sun appeared and disappeared each day.  “It is a picture of my love, that my mercy is new every morning, that no matter how dark the night may be, a new day awaits and my love is renewed.”

    Those words had carried little meaning for a young man wrapped in the lap of luxury and contentment but now he grasped them like a lifeline.  Adonai’s love was new every morning.  Every day He offered a fresh start—even for a cocky manchild who had to lose everything to realize how much he had.

    Then it hit him.  He felt renewed much like he had after lounging in Adonai’s arms in Eden.  He had asked and Adonai had answered!  All the words from their many conversations were in his heart, just waiting for him.  They were like the seeds placed in the ground, hidden but taking root, growing in secret until finally their meaning broke through the soil of his stubborn mind.  Gratitude flooded his being and he cast himself to the ground.  Adonai was here, unseen but still present, still available to give counsel and comfort. 


    *Excerpt of THE FALL (Rapha Chronicles #1) from the chapter titled "Sacrifice"

    ***********************

    How strange it would be to have total access to God and live in a perfect paradise only to then have to adjust to work and worry and stress.  You know, the kind of lives we live in this modern age.

    But this is where the rubber meets the road, so to speak.  This, in the midst of confusion and doubt and circumstances that seem to scream that there is no God, is where true faith can shine like a bright star on the darkest nightOur sweet Hannah-banana having a God-moment at the beach..  Often, though, that moment comes when we have reached the end of ourselves, when we are desperate and truly have nowhere else to turn.

    We try to make such a mystery of prayer that we give up, say it doesn’t work and forego praying at all.  I love the simplicity of Adam reaching for God with all his heart, even though he doesn’t feel worthy and doesn’t even  know for sure if communication with God is possible outside of paradise.  But he is convinced of Adonai’s goodness and has faith in Adonai’s character, that God would at least care about their desperate circumstances.

    Prayer is simply communion, conversation if you will, with God.  There is example after example of God speaking with folks who are not “good enough” in the Old Testament and numerous examples of Christ conversing with the outcasts of his day, so toss aside the feeling of “I’m not good enough to talk to God.”  He’s reaching for you.  Reach back. 

    Silly pic courtesy of my sis-in-law, Terri. Trust me, I never feel "good enough." But God's goodness covers that.

    Chana is a wife, mom of four and author.  She and her family live in southern CA with a menagerie of pets. Fix her a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies and she will be your friend for life. Gush about Jane Austen with her and she will put you in her will.

    Monday
    Jan232012

    22-Rapha's Moment With HIM

    (THE FALL, Ch. 4, pp42-45)

    Lucifer’s voice was in his ear.  “Ooh, you’re in trouble now.  Wait ‘til Daddy hears about this.”  Reaching toward the mound of dead and dying, Lucifer plucked up a tiny, struggling rabbit.  Too late, Rapha realized his intent and fought against invisible bonds as, with one sharp twist, Lucifer detached one of the rabbit’s legs, relishing its pain-filled shriek and Rapha’s mute struggle. 

    “This is a momentous occasion.  A proud angel is taught humility.”  Lucifer squatted beside Rapha and shoved the writhing bunny into his face.  “Take note little beast.  This is the first to shed innocent blood in Adonai’s new world.”  With a gentle caress, he held the mangled creature close.  Then, gazing into Rapha’s eyes, he squeezed tighter and tighter, his gaze never wavering through the cracking of tiny bones and terrified shrieks until, finally, the mound of fur ceased twitching. 

    Lucifer tossed the limp form into Rapha’s face, then brought forth the severed leg and pressed it against the angel’s mouth.  “Here.  Kiss it.  Perhaps it will bring me luck.”

    As Lucifer stood to leave, Rapha felt his body and tongue released but had no will to fight.  With the blood still warm on his lips and proof of his foolishness displayed before him, he remained kneeling, his spirit as broken as the animals’ bodies.

    “Remember this position,” Lucifer stated from above.  “I know I will.”

    With that, Rapha was once more alone atop the mountain.  If not for the suffering before him, he might have crawled away in shame.  Even with countless years of experiencing Adonai’s fathomless love, his faith in the face of such guilt failed.  But he could not abandon the innocence he had helped to crush. 

    “Please, Adonai,” he whispered, “come and heal.”

    At first, the only difference was a new scent.  Instead of the metallic smell of blood, there was a fragrance of sweet, honey-filled blooms and a particular type of fruit that grew only before Adonai’s throne.  All was borne on a breeze of such unreasonable love that Rapha felt he could slip into glorious delirium if he took one deep breath.  As it was, he kept his breathing shallow.   He was unworthy of such a gift.

    Then someone touched his shoulder.  Warmth flooded his being and the sweet scent took physical form in his mouth, becoming the purest nectar that flowed over his tongue.  But the bitterness of guilt welled up to repel this glorious intruder.

    “Please,” a soft voice with the magnitude of a surging ocean spoke, “To heal them, you must first be healed.”

    The kindness of that voice was a wedge to the vault of his pain.  A trickle of purity slipped inside exposing the venom that sought to infiltrate every fiber of his being.  The deep shadows were no match for that piercing light.   Yet still Rapha resisted.  He did not deserve absolution, much less this absolute bliss offered freely to his tortured soul.  Besides, there was a question to be answered.

    With his head still bowed, Rapha asked, “I sense the presence of Adonai, but He cannot dwell with impurity.  Who are you?”

    Rather than words, Rapha heard the most unexpected sound.  Laughter.  With a warm updraft the soil sighed, a flock of graceful birds took flight, the branches of surrounding trees waved as if applauding and, deep underground, Rapha felt the murmur of earth’s bones straining closer.  Even the whimpers of the suffering animals hushed.  Surprised, Rapha looked up.

    It was the man who had offered restoration to Lucifer so long ago before Adonai’s throne.  In contrast to Lucifer’s glory, the man bore a rough garment and unremarkable features.  However, Rapha sensed distilled power as if the sun’s radiation were compressed into an earthen vessel.  Rapha’s sadness and guilt could not exist before those eyes that peered unhindered into the core of his being and pulsed with delight.  The power was soft and malleable, like water, trickling into every hidden place but capable of breaking the proudest rock with its patient assault.

    As a mother might tend a messy child, the stranger lifted the edge of his sleeve to Rapha’s mouth and wiped away the blood.  Rapha blinked in amazement as the garment absorbed the stain, leaving only snowy whiteness in its wake.

    His senses probed into fathomless confidence and unbreakable love.  Questions pulled at his mind but they too bowed, swallowed in this One who embodied the meaning of all things. 

    The familiar stranger breathed across the animals.  One by one every wound healed and the shy creatures crept forward to nuzzle, perch, scamper, and slither to their heart’s delight.  Once again, creation was gifted with His laughter.  This time Rapha, awed that his failure was transformed into this moment of joy, also laughed.

    He stared in wonder at the humble, human profile that contained the sum of Adonai’s character, discovering delight in the paradox.  Why couple earthly flesh with divinity?  Then again, at his lowest moment, this One provided what Rapha needed; not the Almighty surrounded in blinding holiness, but this Holy One choosing to wrap Himself in vulnerability. 

    Ultimate power choosing humility?  Yes, that would be inconceivable to Lucifer. 

    But, wasn’t this One destined to appear thousands of years in humanity’s future?

    The Son of Man addressed the unspoken query.  “What I will do is already recorded in eternity.  That moment is as the pinnacle of this mountain.  Those on either side can look up, ponder, and climb toward its height.” 

    Even as Rapha grappled with this concept, he noticed something odd.  The tiny, abused hare struggled on only three legs as it tried to climb into the lap of its healer. 

    Once again the man answered his thoughts.  “This small one is a sign to all creation.”  As He spoke, the three-legged creature stepped timidly onto His palm, drawing Rapha’s attention to a scarred gash in the Holy One’s hand.  As He drew the animal to His breast, Rapha noted a matching wound on the back of the other hand as well.

    The soothing voice continued, “This age will be well-acquainted with corruption and cruelty, yet the greatest beauty and strength will thrive in that environment.  Adonai will never leave them comfortless.”  He placed a kiss on the animal’s head, then set it upon the ground.  As if understanding its purpose, the creature hopped toward the forest without looking back.

    Rapha pondered the Holy One’s words as he watched the small outline merge with shadows.  When he turned toward his mysterious companion, he discovered the man was gone.  There were two spots of bruised grass where His knees had rested and, as Rapha watched, they filled with water as if an underground spring had been tapped.  When the puddles overflowed, they began to trickle in opposite directions down each side of the mountain’s face.  Rapha raised himself to hover above the ground and watch each shallow stream become a widening river.  Within moments they were digging deep grooves in solid rock and splashing to the valley below, their force carving twin canyons that rejoined for the journey to the sea. 

    In the pounding waters, Rapha heard echoes of the Holy One’s laughter.

    (end excerpt)

    ************************

    It's your turn. Please give your feedback... and remember, this is for posterity, so be honest.

    THE FALL is my first published novel. Hopefully there will be many more to follow, but regardless, I'm hooked--addicted to the written word.

    Click the link at the top of the page for more information about The Rapha Chronicles, Book 1: THE FALL.