A funny thing happened just recently - a sign (maybe - I will leave that up to you) that makes me wonder. But first let me set the scene. I haven't posted here for a few months now mainly because I have been busy doing a short story course (through Melbourne CAE) to improve my writing skills. A few short stories have emerged - one which I will share with you below.
I have approached the short story writing with a sense of enthusiasm and a desire to learn all tricks of the trade - plot and character development, finding a good opening with a hook etc. But behind the technical stuff, I would love to be able to write prophetically - for want of a better term, in order to express a little of my faith and to see God move through my writing. I engaged with a bit of prophetic art / painting a few years back and I find there is no greater thrill than seeing God move through something I have created - even if it is just engaging in conversation about what something means to other people symbolically. A prophetic element would really give my writing purpose and depth. I am not sure though, exactly what that might look like.
Over my short story writing course I have created and polished two short stories - one that I started a while back and this second one that I started pretty much just as I started my writing course. The intent behind it was around expressing my prophetic gifting in a way that seems whimsical - almost in the genre of magical realism. I started with these two characters that carry lady bugs around (a real child-like faith), and my writing is in the first person to highlight the idea that this kind of supernatural feeling and knowing could possibly be real. I will let you read the story before I share the rest of the story around it - the 'coincidental' (or prophetic) part. I believe I did share this idea or intention of writing prophetically with the group of 4 others and our teacher on the very first night and so a seed was planted, although I am sure I didn't get much reaction at the time! Also this story came easily to me - it did just flow onto the page.
Lady bugs
I felt anticipation in the room. There was no other evidence that anything was about to happen, but in the library that day, where people were quietly studying and reading, I just knew something was about to go down. I walked around the outskirts of the room and felt the boredom of librarian stacking books back onto the shelf. Then I walked over towards the entrance.
A young girl – around 10 years old, wearing a party dress and with red ribbons in her blonde hair walked in with her mother. I felt these were the ones. The mother was watchful and alert and the daughter couldn’t wait to run over to the children’s section. I watched them browse through the book selection and pull out 2 picture books. They sat to the side and flicked through them. The mother felt happy to me - contented and engaged with the library visit. She pulled out a hanky form her pocket and out flew x 3 ladybugs. The lady bugs hovered and flew and in circles, making the young girl giggle at the sight. I ducked back into a row of books as the mother looked around. Once she realised no one was paying attention, she giggled quietly as well. For around 10 min they read books together and entertained the lady-bugs, then the mother opened her hanky again, they flew back in, and they picked themselves up and left.
I felt a little disappointed that the lady bugs had gone but I was curious about the mother-daughter duo. I followed them unobtrusively out of the library and watched them walk across the nearby park to the local supermarket. The girl started skipping, and even from a distance I could feel the joy they carried.
I wandered back into the library and something had changed. Where there had been a quiet anticipation paired with the boredom of the mundane before, I felt there was now a settled peace and a desire to dream. Dreams of fairy floss, hummingbirds and blue skies. Dreams that reflected the mythical tales and adventures in the books. It felt good. I walked around the outskirts, past the librarian again and she looked at me a little quizzically. She no longer looked bored though. She smiled at me and I smiled back.
I couldn’t help myself but go back to the library the next day. In case they would be there again. I deliberated over what to read and settled on a travel magazine and a copy of Roald Dahl’s ‘Charlie and the Chocolate factory.’ It was a childhood favourite of mine. I opened the travel magazine and started to flick through it, dreaming of a cruise holiday in the Bahamas and wondering if it was something I could ever afford. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a small flash of red and put the magazine down just in time to see a lady bug crawling up and away over the top of the stall I was sitting in. I turned and looked over my shoulder and there they were again, which was strange because I hadn’t heard or noticed them come in. The mother was dressed in jeans and a jumper of deep royal blue – the sort of blue you could swim in and get lost. She had matching blue shoes of patent leather with black ribbons to tie them up. They looked like dancing shoes. The girl lay on her back on the carpeted floor with her arms flung out to the side and her eyes shut. The mother sat beside her quietly reading. Who were these people? What was with the lady bugs?? I went back to my magazine. A few minutes later, there was another giggle. I didn’t look back at them, but stood up, put the book and magazine away on the returns rack and left.
I was meeting my grandfather for lunch that day. He lived not far from the library and he had his favourite café nearby. As I approached, I could see him sitting under a grey umbrella. From a distance he looked hidden and diminished. As I came closer though, he smiled up at me almost mischievously. His wrinkled hands almost reflected the blue of the sky and he was wearing yellow shoes, the colour of sunflowers. I hadn’t seen him wear them before. My grandfather was a man after my own heart. He too, felt things deeply and he had been a huge support during my recent divorce. After a kiss on the cheek, I sat down with him under the grey umbrella, happy to relax a bit and spend some time with him.
“Great to see you, Gramps,” I said.
“The pleasure is always mine,” he replied. “How has your day been?”
“Really unusual. I was just at the library, and there was a lady there with her daughter. She seems to be keeping lady bugs in her hanky.”
“Ohh,” he replied. “I thought I felt a bit of a shift today.”
“A shift?” I asked, getting curious.
“Yes, you are feeling lighter somehow today.”
“I felt it too,” I replied. “In the library yesterday, just before this lady turned up with her daughter. What is it about the lady bugs?”
“They are a symbol of good fortune and the strengthening of gifts. Something is about to happen.”
I crossed my arms across my chest. I still wasn’t sure if I believe all this stuff, but I couldn’t deny what had happened at the library. The last few years had been rough for me. My husband had left me for another woman. Someone younger and prettier. After corresponding through lawyers, we had to sell the home we had built together over the last 5 years. The whole process had been long winded, downright painful, and had only been finalised a few months earlier. It had taken a toll on my self-confidence and I was keeping to myself these days. What good could come out of this?
My grandfather reached out and placed his hand out in front of me. I reached down and took it, grateful for his loving vote of sympathy. His papery skin was cool and soft and his thin hand had a slight tremor to it. It was a very similar hand to mine. I looked up into his eyes. They were alight and alive with a bit of a spark in them. He smiled at me with a huge grin.
“Better things are coming,” he said with a small laugh.
“Better things are coming,” I said out loud to myself as I closed the apartment door half an hour later, and threw my keys down on the side table. The house felt empty except for the chirruping of my budgies, Jojo and Chip, coming from a corner in the kitchen. They helped to some degree. I grabbed a handful of nuts from the pantry and sat down in the living room. My neighbour to the right had her television blaring and I could hear it all too clearly through the wall. A bit of peace and quiet would be nice. My home was my hiding place - my sanctuary. I closed my eyes and relaxed back into the chair as a single tear rolled down my cheek. I couldn’t bring myself to even think that something nice might happen for me right now. It was just one foot in front of the other with work and everything else. They say that time heals all wounds. I just needed some time and space.
I went back to the library the following day. Just in case. The mother - daughter pair were nowhere to be seen. I wandered through the fiction section trying to find something to read, but nothing was really grabbing my attention. I had trouble trying to focus, even though the library felt settled today – the anticipation I had felt earlier was gone. After a while, I chose a couple of random books and resolved to settle myself in front of a window looking out over a courtyard. Although the day was cool, the sunshine coming through the glass was delightful. I could see some sparrows flitting around outside and a young boy playing on the path with a skateboard. I opened one of the books and a bookmark fell out. It was a dark brown colour, cut into a sharp rectangular shape with a small red lady bug in the corner. Surely this was more than a coincidence? I turned in my chair and looked all around the library, scanning the room for any clues, but all was in order. Someone had simply returned the book without removing the bookmark. I flicked through the rest of the book and another card fell out. It was a gift card for a cruise company. I looked a little more closely and it was a ticket for a $7000 cruise through the Bahamas, departing from Florida, all air fares from Australia included! Someone must be missing this!
I marched up to the library desk to see if they could trace the previous borrower. There was oddly no record. After looking all around the library, calling the cruise company and filing a report with the police, I waited for answers. After 2 long months, the ticket was officially mine. I still couldn’t believe it, but here was the rest and time out that I so badly needed. And a bookmark to go with it.
I met with my grandfather to tell him the news - again at his favourite café. As I approached the table he was at, I thought that somehow his face looked brighter under the same grey umbrella. I sat down after giving him a kiss on his bony cheek. He smiled at me broadly, before I even said a word.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, beaming, “Congratulations on your holiday!”
“I can still barely believe it,” I replied. “The whole thing is so strange. I have been back to the library so many times over the last few months, but there is no sign of the lady-bug lady or her daughter.”
“You’re right - it is a little strange. You deserve a break, though, and I hope you will enjoy your trip,” said Gramps. “I think the shift is here to stay.”
As he said that, a small lady bug flew down and landed on the table between us.
*********************
I wrote this over the first 2 weeks of the writing course. After the second week, we had a break and a long weekend when our teacher, Beverley, went to Adelaide for a writing conference or something. She is a writer of romantic novels. She has over 30 novels published and likes to write redemptive plots. I emailed it to her that weekend (I believe) to ask for feedback. The next time we met her in class on the Thursday night, she happened to mention that she actually won a $7000 cruise from Virgin that very last weekend. She had been sitting in a middle seat on the plane (travelling with her husband) and Virgin were promoting their new cruises and having a giveaway. She just happened to win! She didn't mention anything about a connection to my story in class, but really??
It still makes me wonder, but it points to a marvellously creative and playful God who loves to bless his people and also maybe those who don't know him yet (but like writing redemptive love stories). Maybe this story in itself is a bit of a word of knowledge and part of a redemptive love story? If it has sparked anything in my author -teacher or not, I will probably never know, and I don't really need to. I pray she enjoys her cruise and wonders about our Christian God. I also hope that she hears the ultimate redemption story one day and takes it on as her own.
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