Pearls and Presence, Chapter Nine- New Community

I can never go back. I can only go forward. Will my future be with a new community, those who are broken as I have been, the ones who share in my shame and redemption? Everything will be different now. There is no turning back from what has been done, and I cannot change the past.

I take one step forward, then another, and another, until I have crossed the threshold and am outside the walls of my empire. Both feet are on the sand now. It is cool and soft and gives way ever so slightly beneath my feet.

The walls of my empire have begun to crumble behind me, as the waves of the ocean have finally reached it. The sandy foundation gives way easily under the weight of the crashing sea, and my empire is destroyed beyond recognition.

I watch a boat coming closer and closer, and I hear the voices of a community. They are getting more audible over the roar of the ocean as they come near.

I close my eyes and breathe. I inhale the Divine, exhale my fear.

With whom do I belong?

~*~

Mara was busy cooking breakfast when He knocked at her door. She knew it was Him before she even opened it. He stood there with a benevolent smile on His royal face, His black and unruly hair full of wild, untamed dignity.

The wait was over. It was time to let go of the past.

He entered the room without a word and looked past her out the window, gazing out towards the sea. He was looking at something. She turned and looked with Him. There was a boat on the horizon, sailing in towards the shore. It carried people who had come to inhabit her island, with plans to build a new community.

They were headed towards the beach even now.

And Mara knew that if she didn’t close the door or run away, she would have to face them. And then it would be time to share her story.

The Man interjected into her thoughts. “Lean on me. Let go of everything else. I am sufficient, I will be enough. Have faith, beloved. It is time now, you are ready for this.” He read her mind and spoke straight into her soul.

Something like panic settled into her body. “Can’t you just tell me if they will love me, if I can belong with them after all I have been through? I can’t meet them unless I know what is going to happen. I still have so many questions, so many doubts...”

She searched without avail for the words to express the feelings of uncertainty inside.

 “Can’t you tell me what they will say when they learn about my story?” Her hands were pressed together and she rubbed them in worry, her gaze searching for a safe place to land.

She stared down at His sandaled feet, remembering how her hair had covered them while she cried. She wanted to go there again now for comfort.

He interjected with words that brought order to her conflict: “My daughter, I love you. And the peace of God will rest on you, and you will go forward into My Kingdom with grace and beauty, accomplishing more than you ever dared to imagine. This is my Spirit working in you.”

His words were poetic truth, healing balm for her fears.

And still Mara doubted. “But I need them to love me, to accept me, to care about me. I want them to value my story as You do.” Her voice cracked with emotion and she was going to cry. “I desire their validation, their approval, their friendship. I don’t know what to do if I lose that again. I don’t know who I am without it. Who am I if they don’t understand me? I know I am too desperate, Jesus. Forgive my doubt, I am afraid.”

He reached out to the pearl necklace which was around her throat, to the name written upon it, and lifted it slightly. “Lean on me, Tirzah. Let go of everything else. I will be enough. Have faith, beloved. I am enough for you. My love is sufficient. My strength is made perfect when yours comes to an end.” He touched the pearls one by one, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger, until He found the letters of her new name.

“Tirzah, my joy and delight, I want you to trust Me.

It’s time to let go of the past.”

“What if they turn me away? What if they accuse me? What if they say nothing at all? God, what if they hurt me.” She closed her eyes and swayed slightly.

She felt his steadying hand on her arm. “Lean on me. Let go of everything else. I am your Abundance. Have faith, beloved. Let go of the past. You have a new name now. Let go.” His arm slid down her shoulder, stopping to squeeze her hand and hold it for just a moment, and then He released it.

You have a new name now. Let go. These words were a powerful force that influenced her entire being.

Mara opened her eyess to speak to Him again, to plead with Him for more answers.

But He was gone.

And where He had stood, there lay white roses from her vineyard, fashioned into a crown and lying on the ground. She walked over, pick it up, and look around. The Man was not in sight. But as she looked at this crown of roses and turned it over and over in her hands, she still heard His last words.

Let go.

The boat was getting closer now, she could hear the voices on the wind. She would have to face them, or shut the door and hide- or run. With a deep sigh, she exhaled fear and inhaled Peace. Then she raise the crown and pressed it to her heart, press it to her lips, and then raised it high and placed it majestically on her head.

Will they accept me for worshiping idols and listening to the Accuser?

          She took one step towards the door.

Will they know the extent of my failings? Will I know the extent of theirs? Can I trust their love for me? Can they trust mine?

For years and years she had known what needed to be done, and now it grew from a realization to an action, and her resolve moved from a place of desire to a place of confidence. She had given up her idols, and she had found the words. She had written her story, she had begun to heal through writing. Now she would take the first step towards letting go of the past.

She pushed open door and walked out into the sunlight.

There is no security here, no safety, no certainty in this moment. I stand in the tension of not knowing.

Her bare feet were moving steadily down the road. She had forgotten shoes.

But I have my King, and my pearls, and my roses. I have lost my idols, and that leaves empty room in my heart for true and lasting community. Perhaps they can love me, If I let them.

She was nearly at the beach, and could hear the laughter and chatter of many people.

As she came closer to the water, a sudden gust of salty air blew her gold-spun brown hair back off her shoulders. With brazen freedom her white dress billowed out, molding to her legs in front and trying to take flight behind her.  She put her hand to her temple to hold down her white crown of roses and pressed her other hand to her heart. He eyes closed and she paused to honor the current of the air. 

She was the perfect picture of redemption.

And in those final moments she heard Him in her thoughts again, whispering that maybe, just maybe, together with this new community she would be free to create an Empire that lasts for all eternity until His Kingdom comes in all its complete fullness.

She spoke out loud in response, just before she started down the small trail to the water. The words were inspired by His Presence:

“The peace of God will rest on me, and I will go forward into Your Kingdom with grace and beauty, accomplishing more than I ever dared to imagine. This is Your Spirit working in me.”

The ocean roared in approval. The wind sighed in relief. She reached up and tenderly touched the pearls around her neck.

“Thank you for redeeming my sins and making me beautiful again.” She whispered with delight.

“I am Your beloved and You are mine. I am present with you always. I love you best through My people, so allow yourself to be loved in community,” this was the Divine instruction.

The girl walked with her head held high towards the travelers, a smile on her face and her arms opening wide to receive them. A story was in her heart and a song was in her soul.

She was ready to be loved again.

She was ready for new community.

And she spoke the brave words of power that would change her life forever:

“Hello! My name is Tirzah…”

~*~

And she found the words to write the final page of her story:

We are a community that has been broken and redeemed by the words and life of our King. We are each at a different place in the journey, but we all have a common hope, that one day the Kingdom of God would be revealed through the humility and grace of our Lord and worked out in the entire world for all of humanity. If you are looking for a perfect family, keep looking. But if you are looking for a place where you are given grace and permission to be completely your true and messy self, ask tons of questions and grow very slowly, Empire Island would be a great place to begin. I love this new community so much because of all the ways they make me feel safe to belong just as I am, with my shameful past, present progress and prodigal story included ♥

God loves us best through His people. Allow Him to love you this way, here and now, in a community of children that are living both broken and redeemed.

Together we will build a new community that creates an Empire of love which will last for all eternity until the Kingdom comes. And we will worship our Beloved, and He will be our King.

May all beings be peaceful and happy.

Amen and Amen.

-Tirzah

~*~

The End!

www.persuasiveabundance.com

To go back to the beginning of this story, click here.

To read my personal confession of redeeming love, click here.

With deepest gratitude for all my readers, 

~Rebecca

Pearls and Presence, Chapter Eight- Refinement

 I will return her vineyards to her and transform the Valley of Trouble into a gateway of hope. She will give herself to me there, as she did long ago when she was young, when I freed her from her captivity in Egypt.

-Hosea 2:15

~*~

The sound of the ocean could now reach the confines of the valley, and the waves became the only noise as the two picturesque figures stood poised in divine stillness together. 

The girl watched with fascination as the tear of compassion glided slowly down his dark skin. It glittered with a rainbow of white colors in the faint light, looking exactly like a tiny pearl. She lifted her hands from the dusty ground as she remained keeling before him, and He himself knelt down directly before her. Face inches before her own, He reached out to wipe her own tears with His thumb.

As His hand brushed her cheek, she felt His touch communicate safety and belonging.

He cupped her face and smiled to reassure her. Something stirred within her soul. He reached down to take both her hands, ready to lift her to her feet. Mara’s eyes grew large with expectation when He held out his hand for hers. She placed hers in his ever so gently, with both timidity and certainty, and at His touch her entire body felt alive with tranquil joy. The emotion was so unexpected, yet she didn’t feel surprised at anything she felt in His presence now. 

His silence seemed to explain what human words could not.  Her only sense of understanding seemed to come from looking steadily into His eyes, so she remained transfixed in that position as they both stood up together.

Gradually Mara became aware of her breath.

It was slow and steady, and it matched His own. She deeply inhaled peace and exhaled fear, again and again. Mara started to speak, to ask Him what she should do now, but He covered her mouth with his hand for a moment and He looked at her. He was transferring divine power from His eyes to her own.

In His expression she could see the vast ocean and the stars and the universe, and His eyes were so kind and knowing that she forgot what she wanted to ask. Then He took His hand away from her mouth and smiled.

And when He spoke there was a place inside of her that had always known what this wild and regal Man in white was about to say for her. She had known for her entire lifetime, although she had never lived it.

“Beloved. I have redeemed you. Every part of your story can be used for my Kingdom. Every feeling can be directed towards good, if you walk close with me. We are going to journey together out of this Valley of Achor up into the light. Know that I am with you. I can return all that has been lost.”

Mara’s throat constricted with emotion. “I believe You. I trust You. I love You.”

In one fluid and completely natural motion, Mara stretched out her arms to Him in an embrace. He quickly closed the gap between them, and there was no distance between their souls. Her heart thrilled with joy as she drew her arms tightly around His neck and lay her head on His shoulder.

This was a treasure even greater than the pearl of great price.

For an eternal moment He was holding her in His arms, and she was holding Him. And Mara never wanted to let go, because it felt like the Kingdom had finally come. She was His princess and everything was beautiful and good and right.

This is what belonging felt like, to be in perfect alignment with her Redeemer.

Deliverance. Redemption. Freedom. Peace.

And then the moment was over, and the space between them widened. Mara lowered her gaze down to His feet, and she heard Him speaking truth again.

In her mind she thought, “I wish He would take me into His Kingdom this very moment.” But she dared not ask such a great request out loud in His royal presence.

But the Man looked at her lowered gaze and read her very thoughts. “It is not time, not yet. First I will give you a new name, and then you can go out to share your story.”

Mara was filled with sudden dread. “I will fail without You.” She clasped her hands tightly in front of her to hide their sudden trembling. “I will fail again. I can’t do this without You. I’m scared.”

“I will never leave you. Walk with me. I am here, I am with you always. You are a warrior princess for my Kingdom. Know your worth and live it.” He paused and smiled knowingly as if at some delightful confidence. “Mara, it’s time to use your writing for good. You are almost ready to share your gift.” He extended His hand and gestured for her to take it.

Mara grabbed onto his hand like it was a lifeline and nodded, blinking back grateful tears of relief. “I will. Oh, thank you. Thank you.”

And lifting her chin, smiling through her tears, she allowed the Man to lead her slowly up the stairs and out into the sunlight. She had to blink and squint her eyes against the brightness of the morning light. She shielded her face for a moment until she adjusted. Then together they walked steadily across the well-worn trail that led up to the door of her home.

He stopped and smiled gently. “I am the Truth. I know the Way. I want you to go inside your dwelling place and write your story, the one you need to tell the world. I will be your strength and your inspiration now. Use your writing for good, my child. It is the gift I have given you.” He let go of her hand.

“Write my story...” Mara hesitated. She stood there with one hand on the door, one foot on the path, and looked out at the vast landscape. There were miles and miles of ocean, sandy beach, and grassy hillsides.

And somewhere out there beyond the horizon were real people that she was afraid to know. Living beings in community, ones who were broken and redeemed just as she was, who could offer real love and companionship because they were not made of stone.

“If I write my story and share it, I will become vulnerable. The ones who read it are real people that could love me or hurt me. They could welcome my story or ignore it, affirm it or deny it, accept my story or judge my words. I am afraid to write, my Lord. I am afraid.” The vulnerability of this confession left her feeling exposed. Her lip trembled, so she bit it to keep from losing her composure.

“Ah my child, I am so proud of you. I want you to see yourself as I see you now.” He pressed His hand to His heart and smiled. “This day you have been baptized at my feet with your hair and your tears, and so this is the day you become Mine. The opinion that matters is Mine, and I say that you are a delight.”

His voice grew louder as if making a pronouncement to a crowd. “And now you will no longer be called Mara, which means bitter. You will now be called Tirzah, because you are My joy and delight.”

“Oh. Oh.” Mara felt the new name wash over her with grace and dignity. She didn’t have the words to thank Him.

“You belong to me now, and I am so proud of you. Keep writing, I am with You. This is going to be so good, your story is beautiful. Go now. Do the hard work of refinement. Trust me.” He gestured to her upstairs window.

Just as she turned towards the door and began to open it, she gave a sudden start as she remembered something important. “Oh, the pearls! We have to go back.” She was filled with remorse at the loss.

She left the door ajar and stepped back out into the path. But He gently squeezed her arm and stopped her. Without a word He pulled the string of pearls from His pocket and pressed it into her palm, the word Tirzah facing upwards, written in proud bold letters.

Mara looked down at it, and then slowly back up at Him, and He waited patiently.

 He nodded again towards the door.

So lifting her head high, she stepped gracefully forward with an air of royalty to push against the door and throw it wide open. The sea breeze rushed in, and the ocean applauded her courage with a roar. She faced Him for one last look.

Stepping forward He lifted the necklace high and placed it gently around her neck. And He was smiling at her with eyes full of pride and adoration at the dramatic effect the pearls had on her graceful appearance.

“Thank you.”

He nooded and she closed the door with a thud of finality. Mara turned and looked around at the quiet house.  Her heart pounded with the anticipation of the challenge before her. 

Yet, she was encouraged by the look she had seen in His eyes when He had given her a new name.  She had seen tenderness there when He said it, as if His very soul had spoken to her.  He had been visibly affected by her tears, as though they were His very own.  She had been transfixed by this Man, and that moment would remain with her forever.

She reached up to touch the pearls hanging around her neck.

She determined that she would only leave one single blank page after she was done writing. This blank page would be the chapter of her reconciliation to community, the final piece of her journey which was yet untold. Nothing else could remain unwritten, or her story would die without ever being told. 

Mara willed her heart to slow down as she walked up the stairs.  Each step was a victory. She stilled her breathing and began to calm her thoughts.

Her heart was made up.  With renewed strength, Mara walked across the upper room to the desk, where she had sat so many times before trying to find the right words.  She lowered herself onto the chair, looked for a moment out the window, then poised her pen to write. 

~*~

Months and months went by.

The waiting was much harder than she expected. The healing was slow.

Mara finished writing her story. Yet she knew that it was not complete, that there was something more still to come. The final blank page remained untouched.

Even as she healed slowly through writing, she realized that forgiveness and restoration were a long process and not a sudden arrival. The hard work of moving forward and letting go of the past, this was her refinement and her great test of patience.

So much time was needed to heal her past hurts. So much time.

Often, Mara paused in her chores and remembered the eyes of the beautiful, dignified Man who had given her a new name. 

“My Lord, what do I do now that my story has been written?” Her voice trembled with fear at this question, and she spoke it out loud into the wind. “How do I share it? Who do I tell? Where should I go?”

“Tirzah, I am the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. I will bless the work of your hands and honor you at just the right time. Have patience, beloved. Trust the refinement process.” She heard the words in her soul, because He dwelt with her there.

“Do I set sail away from this place? Or do I stay and wait? How do I share my story?” She was dying to know, to alleviate the great fear that she still carried with her, the fear of the unknown.

“No.”

“No?? I don’t understand.”

“No. Trust Me. Walk with Me. Wait with Me. Wait, Tirzah. Cease striving. Sit in your healing, dwell in it, observe your refinement and wait. The time will come. Trust.”

She sighed. She just wanted to know how it would all end. Would she ever become something more than an isolated inhabitant alone on this island? She was still so scared to leave her solitude. Part of her wanted to hold onto it forever.

“I don’t know what to do.” Her voice was carried away on the wind, out over the hills towards the sea.

~*~

Join me next time for the final chapter! 

www.persuasiveabundance.com

To go back to the beginning of this story, click here.

To read my personal confession of redeeming love, click here.

With deepest gratitude for all my readers, 

~Rebecca

Pearls and Presence, Chapter Two- Forbidden

The Accuser lives here with me, and I don’t know how he got in except that I must have left a window open. I don’t like him here, but at least he keeps his distance most of the time. I have come to tolerate him. Only I don’t like that he always watches me, and sometimes he walks with me. He is often nearby but rarely speaks. Occasionally he will offer a brief suggestion. I feel that he is waiting, but I don’t know for what. I accept him because I don’t know how to make him leave. Usually he does not scare me. Only sometimes I do wish he would leave. Other times I am glad for a companion in this vast and empty place.

Why am I lonely?

~*~

          Knowing that she must protect her vineyard from her neighbors’ prying hands, Mara rapidly moved through her morning routine. She changed quickly into a tan, cotton dress which flowed gently to her ankles, sprinkled with tiny yellow rosebuds so small that it was difficult to tell what they were unless one looked close.  She glanced in the mirror, stood tall and approved of her dignified and courtly appearance. Although she was a very beautiful girl, she never thought so of herself.  She knew she was decent, presentable, with the appropriate touch of pride when she lifted her chin. She accepted her appearance matter-of-factly, nothing more and nothing less for this princess of the light, for she did not ever allow herself the luxury of arrogance.  Such reserved and simple self-perceptions were reinforced by her long, voluntary solitude on the island.

          Therefore Mara took no more time looking in the mirror than was necessary to pull her waist length, golden-brown hair into a high bun, secure it firmly with pins, and then hastily splash her face with cool water from the wooden basin which she had placed on her nightstand.  She rushed out of her room with an air of graceful hurry, flying down the steps to the kitchen.  She pulled up a stool and ate quickly, as she did not want to face her unwelcome visitor without the basic sustenance to rebuke him.

     Then she pushed open the front door and allowed the morning light to greet her with the kiss of the salty ocean breeze. She was drawn out by the sound of waves as they applauded her appearance. The sunlight made a faint golden halo around her head where it struck her light brown hair from just the right angle.

          The day was warm and the sun was bright.  Clusters of giant white tugboat clouds moved across the blue sky, reflecting their images in the pools of water that had formed in some nearby marshes.  Already, many birds out on the water were diving and scooping up beaks full of sea life to bring back to their young.  Turning her face away from the sun, Mara shaded her eyes and spotted the intruder in the north garden, leaning over a large cluster of white blossoms.  He appeared to be examining their leaves, and a small pile of uprooted roses sat in a cart behind him.

Even from a distance, his charisma and attractive physical features were apparent. His name was Achor. He lived in the valley neighboring her home, and he was the keeper of the idols, those lifeless objects which were the source of Mara’s shame.

She had never learned why Achor first came to her island, except that his purpose in life was to follow her around in close observation of her every move, accusing her of things and questioning her motives. There was a great deal left to criticize, after all.

He especially liked to remind her about the idols he saved for her in the Valley. She didn’t like this topic and refused to discuss it with him. It still brought her great inner pain and turmoil. Occasionally he would offer a brief suggestion about returning to visit the idols for worship, and that always made her feel deeply conflicted. He would remind her that she had not worshiped at those altars in so long, and he would look at her with condemning eyes. And her heart would threaten to break again.

His eyes were always knowing, charming, searching. And they made her completely forget her own Divine inner power.

Achor was a gentleman, despite his sometimes irreverant disposition. But there was one exception to his gallantry- when he pried into her vineyard of white roses it was the only time he directly opposed her wishes and invaded her personal space. Just as he was doing now. Otherwise he never too closely imposed himself where he was not wanted- he knew better.

He made it obvious that he didn’t like her white roses and often searched violently among them, pulling off the ones he didn’t like. He was looking for something- she wouldn’t ask what, she would just order him to get out. And he did- only to return at a later time when she least expected it and her guard was down. She often forgot to shield herself from his influence.

She hurried over the sandy grass to her rose garden, her dress billowing in a sudden gust of soft sea breeze.  There was a warning in the air even now, but she ignored it in her haste. As Mara approached him, she made a mental note not to think of her dream.  He could not read her mind, but Achor was very skilled at reading her face, and she knew the dream would translate as fear in her expression. 

He didn’t look up from the flowers in front of him when Mara spoke.

“Excuse me,” she said firmly, planting her feet and crossing her arms defiantly. “I would have been out here sooner, but I didn’t realize you would be meddling in my garden today. As I have said before, you are not welcome to work in my vineyard. I don’t want you in my rose bed. These belong to me and they are mine."

“Goodmorning Mara.” His voice was flat, as if he was too caught up in his work to pay her any attention. He was examining a white petal closely.

Achor pulled off the cluster of white roses he was studying and threw them into the cart with a dismissive gesture, then moved and lifted up two more from a neighboring plant nearer to the fence.  He continued to scrutinize them carefully, turning them this way and that in his tan, skillful hands.  

Mara bent down to move the cart away from him. He glanced over at her movement, and then his gaze drifted slowly from her head to her feet and back again, then returned to linger on her face- he studied her with the full attention of curious eyes. Then he lost interest and returned his attention to the work at hand. 

Mara stared at him in silence for several minutes, feeling violated and tapping her foot as she watched him ravage the flower.  She instinctively knew that he was waiting for her to do or say something, but she didn’t know what. The lack of conversation began to bother her even more than the unspoken tension between them.  She wondered if Achor knew something new that prompted him to raid her garden with such blatant irreverence.  

She uncrossed her arms and placed them on her hips, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Just as she was about to muster the courage to order him away, he finally broke the long tense silence.

          “I came here today because I heard you crying out in your sleep.”  He stood up to his full height, straightened himself and ran his free hand through his black hair. He threw the crushed roses he had been holding into the cart. As he stepped out of the rose bed, he wiped his hands carefully on a towel draped over the side of the fence with the grace of a proper gentleman. Then striding towards her purposefully, Achor closed the gap between them and looked down at Mara with an expression of feigned concern. Tilting his head, he arched an eyebrow and asked, “What was wrong?” His handsome eyes were very dark.

          Mara hesitated and looked away. His air of chivalrous gallantry was daunting and made it hard to think.  She didn’t realize that she had been crying out loud in her sleep during the night.  But as she could see, Achor already knew the truth, and so she decided beat him to the admission.  “I had the dream about a storm again.” And the man in white came for me this time- she instinctively knew she should not mention Him, because that part made Achor violently jealous. She would never speak of Him again.

          He sighed, a spark of worry flashing in his eyes, and he quickly turned his face away from Mara towards the ocean.  “I thought as much,” he said, an unusual hint of uncertainty in his voice.  Mara pushed back loose strands of brown hair out of her face as she followed his gaze out towards the bay.  Then she looked back at him, observing his strong profile against the light of the sun. She thought of the wild and regal man who she saw in her dream.

She recalled the mysterious boat she had glimpsed last night- or did she only imagine it? She wondered briefly if Achor had seen it, and what he would do if a visitor came to Empire Island. She shivered at the possibilities.

After several seconds of gazing out towards the bay, Achor turned back to Mara, a masked expression on his face where there had been worry moments earlier.  “I suppose,” he paused and gestured with one hand to her garden, ”I suppose you really should reconsider turning over this vineyard to my care. You are obviously under too much stress managing all of them. It seems you are not capable of handling them.” He pointed accusingly at her roses.

          Mara lifted her head proudly, snorted arrogantly at his suggestion and reacted in anger to push away Achor’s hand just as he was sweeping it in the direction of her rose bed. 

          The minute her fingers brushed his, Mara knew she had made a huge mistake. It was always anger that got her into trouble with Achor. It was innate fear of his opinion that made her lash out at him, and every time that happened shame had the last word in their conversation, just as it did now.

With an animal reflex he moved his hand so that he was gripping her wrist firmly, her small hand open towards him in the graceful pose of a beseeching prayer. He held it there tightly for several seconds, looking right past it and boring his eyes into her own. He was taking some of her dignity and power away. He remained silent in order to cultivate her shame and bring his own strength to fruition.

Their eyes were locked in battle- time stood still, and there was an aura of light glowing around Mara even as his knowing gaze penetrated into her soul. She held his look with equal intensity, refusing to break away. She knew better than to resist him, and knew to bide her time with learned patience. When he looked at her like that she knew he could see way down into her fears, where her shame was. And these were the opportunities for him to learn about her weaknesses. 

So she abandoned her uncertainty and stared back at him boldly. She called on her self-worth and goodness and channeled the image in her dream of the Rescuer in white.

This was not the first time he took advantage of her contact with him, nor would it be the last. He never once touched her first, it was always her move- this enemy of hers could not have access to her being without her expressed consent. And so many times she thoughtlessly gave him permission to overpower her by her own careless choices. For some reason she could never remember that reaching out to him in anger always ended in more pain and regret. And like a snake waiting to strike, he always took full advantage of it.

She had made the choice to connect with him, slapping his hand in animal fear, and now she knew the price would be a little piece of her dignity. So she waited until he was satisfied, until he had taken what he wanted from her steady gaze. This was how he possessed her soul, piece by piece, one mistake after another.

But the moment, though powerful, was ever so brief, and though their eyes remained in combat, Achor slowly released his grip. Mara jerked away and cradled her offended hand close against her heart, still staring back in offense. The hole he left in her spirit filled with arrogance now. She found her voice and spoke in a tone that defied her fear. She raised her chin higher and spoke loudly.

“I don’t need help with my vineyard. I want to work alone! Alone! This is why I came here in the first place, to keep my white roses to myself.”  She couldn’t keep a hint of desperation from her voice.  “There is nothing wrong- I have a harmless, reoccurring dream.  Nothing will ever come of it, and it has nothing to do with you! Nothing.” 

Flustered now, Mara bent down and picked up the last uprooted flowers near her feet, throwing them into the cart without even looking.  She continued to glare at Achor with all the malice she could muster as she shook the dirt off of her own hands and walked hastily around to the other side of the cart. 

Anger was unbecoming and unnatural to her bright blue eyes and courtesan face. Achor could read it like a hawk and knew just what to say.

          “You know you can’t keep this up forever, it’s too hard for you to do this by yourself. You mismanage the white roses and make so many mistakes with them...” Achor’s voice trailed off as he considered his next words carefully.  “You really should reconsider sharing your vineyard with me. I know exactly what to do with them.”  He smiled victoriously, seeing Mara’s discomfort at such a remark, then qualified his suggestion by saying, “I’m worried about you, that’s all. The gardening is too much work for you to handle by yourself. This vineyard is too great a burden. You should let me advise you- let me get involved. Let me help you tend your white roses. Give them to me.”

          “No. They are not for you, they are for Someone else.” Mara found her strength from the sound of the sea and the salty breeze it sent her way. She pictured the man in white, walking towards her, and felt that He was affirming her resistance to such a temptation. “No, Achor. There is no need for worrying and no need for your advice or your help. I have told you before- I don’t want you in my garden. I want you to leave my vineyard alone. My white roses are none of your business, they are mine to give to whom I choose.”

In her fear Mara added haughtily, “And now all the ruined flowers must be discarded of properly,” she gestured angrily at the cart beside them. She avoided any more eye contact with Achor as she lifted the cart up on its wooden wheels, because she was afraid he might see the doubt in her eyes. She clenched her jaw with stubborn determination as she lifted the cart, preparing to walk away.

Achor moved out of her way with a low bow and then grabbed his hat, which was resting on a nearby fence, and donned it with a sweeping arc of his arm. He looked closely at her as she continued her rebuke.

“I will take this to the beach and give them a proper burial, and I don’t want you to come with me. You are forbidden!”  She knew he would retreat now, because he never followed her when she rejected him.

“Ah! Forbidden, am I? Just so.” Achor found this choice of words to be comically delicious, and it showed up in the satisfied grin which spread across his handsome face. He reached up to tip his hat to her, nodded slightly and turned on the full force of his charisma. He spoke with exaggerated respect, “Yes, ma’am. Forbidden. As you wish.”

She felt utterly violated by his easy compliance. Mara turned her back to him and felt she had somehow lost the battle, because without a doubt he would return again with more temptations.

And as she turned from him, she heard him say in his genteel manner, “I will see you soon, Mara.” He arched an eyebrow and laughed softly to himself as he watched her walk away, narrowing his gaze and nodding his head. He would indeed be back- just as soon as she started to miss him. She would always long for the forbidden fruit of his presence.

~*~

www.persuasiveabundance.com

Join me next time for chapter three! 

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With gratitude for all my readers- 

Rebecca