Living & Working On Purpose

The Saga of Amberlin: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After finishing with the dishes, Jonathan and Amberlin walked out the back door and along the gravel path to the small cottage about twenty yards from the main house. It had once been a guesthouse, but after Jonathan and Rose had made their agreement, Jonathan had taken it over as his office space. It wasn't long before he thought of it as his sanctuary away from the craziness of the world, and thus the name took hold.

As they approached the cottage, Ruffin stuck his head out from his doghouse and took a sniff of the air.
"He smells those grits you have, Amberlin. Better let him have them."

As Amberlin put the bowl down, the blue-merle, rough-coated Australian Sheepdog pulled himself from his shelter, stretched his front legs, then his back ones before moving in on the unexpected breakfast.

"Ruffin likes grits," Amberlin said, as she rubbed the soft fur behind Ruffin's ears.

"That's for sure," Jonathan said with a laugh, "Unfortunately, they go straight to his hips. I might need to get you to start walking him around the neighborhood to take off some of that weight. Come to think of it, I might need to join the two of you."

Jonathan patted his less than flat stomach, then reached down and undid the chain from Ruffin's collar. "When you finish your breakfast, you can come on into the office," Jonathan said to his aging companion. Ruffin was rarely allowed in the main house. Rose felt strongly that if God had intended dogs to be indoors, he wouldn't have designed their coats to shed, but Ruffin seemed happy to make the Sanctuary his home.

The Sanctuary was made up of one large living area that included its own kitchenette, a smaller bedroom, and a bathroom. Jonathan had converted the living area into his office and library, leaving the bedroom to collect clutter through the years.

"We'll clean out the back room and convert it into your school room. How will that be?" Jonathan asked as he turned on the lights, and breathed a deep sigh as he gazed around the cozy room. He truly felt more at home in this one room than he did anywhere in the main house.

"That would be great," Amberlin replied. "Is being my teacher part of protecting and preparing me?"

"That's right. I can't think of a better way to prepare and protect you."

"Prepare me for what? Protect me from what?" Amberlin asked as she climbed onto the overstuffed couch that sat against one wall across from the stone fireplace.

"Well, answering those two questions is the perfect place to start, I guess." Jonathan pulled the swivel chair from his desk and pushed it closer to the sofa.

"Hmm, let's see, where to begin?" He paused for a moment, rubbing the coarse whiskers of his chin from where he'd failed to shave this morning.

"I'm not completely sure what I'm to prepare you for, least not yet, except I'd say, for starters, to prepare you for life, and for your own destiny."

"What is a destiny, Papa Jon?"

Jonathan smiled. This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd thought. "Well, I believe that God has placed each one of us here on Earth for a special reason. Some people call it a life purpose, or their destiny. We're each here for a reason, and I believe you're here for a particularly special reason, although I have to admit, I don't quite know what it is yet."

"Then, how are you going to prepare me for it?" Amberlin asked with a coy smile on her face.

"That's another good question, my dear. I kind of thought I'd be the one asking you the tough questions." Jonathan joked. "Remember what Mo told me just before I left his room, when I asked him about the third P-word?"

Amberlin frowned for a moment, trying to remember. "I was just about asleep by then."

"Well, he said the third word was 'purpose', and that the person who I was to prepare and protect would bring a deeper sense of purpose to Earth, and so that's where we'll begin. In fact, I'd say we already have."

Apparently satisfied with that answer, Amberlin nodded. "And what are you to protect me from?"

"Anything and anybody who would keep you from fulfilling on your life purpose." Jonathan replied.

"Who would do that?"

"Oh, plenty of folks, I'm afraid, mostly out of ignorance and fear." Jonathan paused, trying to think of a simple way to share his thoughts with his granddaughter. Finally he continued. "What I'm about to share with you, you might not understand, least not all of it, but we'll continue to talk about it from time to time until you do. Ok?"

"Sure, Papa Jon. I'll try my best."

"That's good, sweetheart. So will I. There are different ways we can know and relate to God. I won't go into all of them right now, but one of the ways is to think of God as our protector. I know you've heard the stories in Sunday school about God being up in heaven, looking down over us to keep us safe, right?"

"Yes, they tell us about him watching over us all the time."

"And that's one way to know God. If we're in trouble, he's there to watch over us and protect us. Have they also spoken to you about God giving Moses the Ten Commandments?"

"I think so, though I don't remember what they all were." Amberlin replied in a worried voice.

"That's ok, sweetheart. You'll have plenty of time to learn them, over and over, I'm sure.
Well, thinking of God as the Supreme Rule Maker is another way to know God.
And if we think of God as our protector, like a parent, and someone who gives us certain rules to follow, what should we as good children do?"

"Follow the rules and do what he says!" Amberlin replied quickly.

"Exactly." Jonathan chuckled. "And those are two important and common ways for us, his children, to know God. Is this making sense?"

"Yes, I think so," Amberlin answered. "But what does this have to do with people being ignorant and afraid?"

"Another good question. Well, sometime people get stuck knowing God in only those two ways. They never bother to look further, to consider other ways to be connected with God. When that happens, and unfortunately it has happened a lot throughout history, people often become afraid when God shows up in different ways. These people then think that their way of knowing God is the only way. That's their ignorance showing, and when God shows up in different ways or when other people get to know God in different ways, it frightens them."

"But what other ways are there to know God?" Amberlin asked, a perplexed look on her face.

"Well, as I said, there are many different ways, probably more than I've discovered at this point in my life, but let me share one other way by telling you a story about your grandmother, Rose. I think you'll also begin to understand why she's frightened by what she saw last night."

"The story takes place many years ago, when Rose was a young girl, not too much older than you. I didn't know her then, but she told me this story once, just before we were married because she was afraid if I found out on my own, that I wouldn't want to stay married to her."

"The incident happened in this community, and while almost no one knows about it, Rose was still afraid I might find out from someone else. The 'voices' as Rose calls them, started when she was 12. She began to 'know' things about the people around her, things that they hadn't told her. At first, she didn't think much about it assuming everyone else had the same ability, but before long, she figured out that she knew things in ways that others didn't have access to. She finally shared this with her best friend, Missy."

"Missy Stover, the reverend's wife?"

"Yes, except her name was Missy McMillan at the time, and this was long before Reverend Stover. Missy and Rose grew up together as best friends. When Missy found out about this inner knowing that your mother had, she didn't believe it at first, so she challenged her to put it to a test."

"A test?" Amberlin asked.

"Yes, an experiment to see how accurate it was, and to see if it was real.
There was another little girl in their class named Emily Rogers, that neither of them liked, but that Missy particularly disliked, so Missy asked Rose to see if the voices could tell her what Emily's greatest fears were.

It took a few weeks for Rose to come up with the answer since this ability was new and she was still learning about it, but eventually she got the message that Emily was deathly afraid of two things - spiders and the dark."

"Emily sounds a lot like me." Amberlin said. "I'm not too crazy about either one of those."

"Well, it was even worse for Emily. She had what is known as a phobia against spiders and also about being in the dark. In fact, it was so bad that she kept a small lamp in the shape of an angel turned on in her room even when she slept, and she was constantly asking her parents to check under her bed for spiders. When Missy learned of this, she decided the only way to check to be sure the information was true was to put it to a test."

"How'd they do that?" Amberlin asked.

"Well, late one night after everyone had gone to bed, Rose and Missy met outside Emily's home. Over the past couple of weeks, they both had collected a bag full of spiders from every dark little hole they could find. Missy climbed into Emily's bedroom with the spiders and one other surprise for Emily while Rose entered the basement where the fuse box was."

"Fuse box? What's that?"

"It's what controls the electricity that goes through the house. By loosening a fuse, you can cut the power to that section of the house."

"Oh," Amberlin said, then realizing what that meant, she repeated, "Oh, I see."

"As soon as the nightlight went off in Emily's room, Missy dumped the spiders out on Emily's bed, replaced the nightlight with one that Missy had left over from Halloween that was in the shape of a spider. Then, just before climbing out the window, she shook Emily awake."

"What happened?" Amberlin asked.

"Well, unfortunately, the test proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Emily hated spiders and the dark more than anything in the world. They kept her in the dark for several minutes, with the spiders climbing over her bed and on her. Then Rose replaced the fuse, turning the spider light back on. That's when Emily started screaming. The combination of darkness and spiders was too much for Emily. She flew into hysterics, crying and screaming, and swatting at the spiders that climbed over her. Finally, in a blind panic, she ran out of the room, into the hallway, tripped at the top of the stairs, and fell."

Amberlin gasped.

"Meanwhile, seeing what had happened, Missy quickly climbed back in the room, exchanged the lamps, and then escaped out the window again.

"What happened to Emily?"

"They said she was dead before she reached the bottom of the stairs. Her neck snapped."

"Oh, no!" Amberlin gasped. "Poor Emily."

"Yep. No one ever quite understood what happened that made her panic, though they figured it was probably a bad dream. But, of course, Rose and Missy knew. That's when Rose decided the 'voices' inside her were a curse from Satan. She refused to listen to them or ever talk about them again with Missy or anyone else."

"Wow!" Amberlin said, whose eyes shone bright with amazement. "No wonder she's afraid. Is Satan tempting me too, Papa Jon?"

"Well, that's what Rose fears is happening," Papa Jon replied, "but I have a different opinion about it. Do you want to hear what I think?"

"Sure. After all, you're my teacher who's here to prepare and protect me."

Jonathan smiled. "I think these special powers that the women of this family have are like other gifts and talents we all have. Like I have the talent for writing, others have the talent of being able to draw well, while other people have musical talents. In other words, God has given us all special gifts. It's just that your gifts are, well, a bit more special in that fewer people seem to have them."

Papa Jon leaned in closer to Amberlin. "But it's what we do with our talents that determine whether they are truly gifts or curses. You see, Missy convinced your grandmother to use her gifts in an evil and malicious way, so they became a curse."

Amberlin thought hard about what Papa Jon said, and decided it made sense to her. "So, you're saying there's nothing wrong with what I can do as long as I don't use my abilities to do wrong things?"

"That's what I'm saying, sweetheart. Rather than rejecting or denying your special gifts from God, embrace them, develop them, but do so with care."

"Why's that?"

"Because, remember, not everyone has the same way of viewing them as you and I do. I'm afraid people in the Golden Acres Community spend much of their time stuck in fear, so anything that is different or that they don't understand, like your special powers, is automatically assumed to be trouble."

"And from the devil," Amberlin added.

"That's right," Papa Jon sighed. "So, if you notice new things that you can do that you're not sure if others can do"

"Like moving the water around?" Amberlin asked.

"Like moving the water around," Jonathan agreed, "Or hearing voices, or having a feeling that you know what's going to happen before it does, or knowing what someone else is thinking without them telling you"

"Wow! I'll be able to do all that?"

Papa Jon chuckled. "I don't know, sweetheart. I just don't know. Only God knows at this point what you'll be capable of as you grow older." But I have a feeling you'll have a lot more power than either one of us can imagine, he thought but did not say.

"I do know this, though. You're here for a very special reason. In truth, we all are. I just have a hunch that your reason may be even more special."

Amberlin thought about what her grandfather had said. "Papa Jon, is a 'hunch' one of those special gifts from God?"

Jonathan laughed again. "Could be. It sure could be." He patted her lightly on the head, then a thought came to him. "You know, now that you mention it, having hunches and inner voices and the like could be considered another way of knowing God. It's called the 'intuitive response,' and we all have the ability whether we develop it or not. The potential to tap into God's wisdom in this way exists within us all. It's unfortunate that in Rose's world she couldn't be open to that possibility, but you can be."

Amberlin sat quietly, nodding her head with a faraway look of innocence in her eye.

"Ok, let's not blow a fuse in your brain on our very first day. What say you and I see about turning that junk room in yonder into your special classroom?"

"Yea!" Amberlin shouted. "I like having you as my teacher."

The Saga of Amberlin: Chapter 3

THE GODDESS RETURNS - The Saga of Amberlin Continues

I'm continuing to work on my visionary novel and invite you to share in this adventure by reading the chapters as they unfold. Here is the next chapter:

Chapter 3
Jonathan awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon and the phrase "protect and prepare" reverberating around in his head. He wasn't sure whether Amberlin really had changed the direction of the waterspout the night before but he was pretty sure that his explanation to Rose, though true, hadn't convinced her of her granddaughter's innocence.

After all, she'd been looking for some signs of Satan appearing in Amberlin, and Jonathan knew if you looked long enough for something you were bound to find it sooner or later, and in Rose's case it had been sooner.

So, as he dressed and prepared himself for the day, he was already strategizing how to fulfill his mission. "Not going to make the same mistake twice," he muttered as he walked downstairs. It was rapidly becoming his mantra.

"Hello, my dear hearts. How are my two lovely ladies this fine morning?" Rose glanced over at him from where she stood in front of the stove watching over the bacon. "My, aren't we a happy fella this morning?" she asked, but in a lighthearted voice that meant she too was in a better frame of mind.

"Morning, Papa Jon," Amberlin said from where she sat at the table, holding her arms out to him for a hug, which he happily obliged her with.

Rose brought the platter of eggs and bacons over to the table. "Toast will be ready in a minute." If she even remembered last night's incident she gave no hint of it, but then that was just like her. After all, she was a Southern lady, and if there's one thing a Southern lady knew how to be it was what Jonathan called "Southern nice," and what he'd heard other people, especially transplanted Northerners, refer to as covert.

But Jonathan knew how to play this game. After all, he was a Southern gentleman, and had been raised playing this "Southern nice" game of chess. So, he waited as breakfast got under way, the blessing said over the food, and most of it had been eaten before he moved his center pawn forward.

"Do you have a busy day today, Rose?" He asked between mouthfuls of eggs and grits.

"Why you know I do, Jon. At ten o'clock I have a meeting with the Community Board to discuss plans for our next quarter, and that's just the start of my day. Seems like the older I get the more responsibilities I'm expected to fulfill. I don't know how Golden Acres would get along if something were to happen to me. I wonder if your great-great granddaddy had any idea how much this community would grow when he donated the land? Bless his heart, I doubt it, but it sure did seal my fate without him ever even knowing me," Rose replied.

It was one of her favorite complaints, that as the sole-surviving member of the Drayton family who had bestowed the land that had made the Golden Acres of Christ Community possible, she was always so busy. Jonathan decided it was time to move his next piece into action.

"Well, I've been thinking about how busy you are and all. You know I'm not much when it comes to Community matters." Which was one of the largest understatements of the year. Rose and he had come to an agreement over two decades ago that he would put in the necessary appearances to keep the rumor mill off their back, as long as Rose gave him the room and the privacy to pursue his own interests without interruption or interference. Although like Rose, Jonathan had been born and raised in the Followers of Christ Assembly Church, he had moved on in his values and beliefs, though not before falling madly in love with Rose. The agreement had, no doubt, saved their marriage.

"So, I've been wondering how I could help out a bit, and it came to mind that you have so much to do to keep this community running." Here goes, a bold move of his knight into the center of the board.

"I'd like to offer to help out by taking a more active role in Amberlin's home schooling. Could you pass the grits, sweetheart?"

It had been Rose who had insisted Amberlin be taught at home, insisted that it was the best way to assure she received a good, Christian education, but her reasoning hadn't fooled Jon. He knew underneath it all was her deep fear that Amberlin might be visited by Satan while in school, condemning the entire family to another round of malicious gossip that would almost certainly ruin them this time around, and possibly lead to expulsion from the community.

He made it a point not to stare at Rose, but instead kept his wife in the corner of his eye as she pondered his offer while also passing the grits.

"Well, that's very thoughtful of you, Jon. I must confess Amberlin has been taking a backseat of late. I suppose I could use some help."

"Well, I can sure understand that, Rose dear. What with all the other important matters you have on your mind, which is my point. You know, I've always thought I might have missed my calling by not becoming a teacher, and this way it might not be too late to answer God's call." There, he'd moved his Queen off the back line, where she could do some good, that is, if Rose didn't counterattack.

"Papa Jon, You'd be my teacher?" Amberlin spoke up, surprising both of them.

"Why, sugar, I didn't have any idea you were following this conversation." Rose reached over and patted Amberlin's hand lightly. Jonathan noticed it was the same hand she had slapped so roughly the night before but didn't say anything.

"Would you like your Papa Jon to be your teacher?"

"Sure," Amberlin replied. "I'll promise to study hard."

"Well, I guess that settles it," Rose said, as Jonathan breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "At least on a trial basis," Rose added.

"Sure, exactly. We'll give it a try and see how it works out." But Jonathan knew the agreement had been sealed. Rose would be too busy with her many other Community duties to monitor any trial run. Jonathan was now in a perfect position to carry out his destiny.

"Not going to make the same mistake twice," he muttered for the second time this morning.

"What was that, dear?"

"Nothing," Jonathan replied as he stood up. "Let me take care of the dishes. You go ahead and get ready for your meeting." After Rose left to dress for her day, Jonathan began to clean up.

"Can I help?" his granddaughter asked, as she slid off her chair.

"Sure, you can help, just be careful not to drop anything," Jonathan replied, as he scraped the last of the grits into a bowl. "We'll take these out to Ruffin in a few minutes. He's a good Southern dog that never turns down a bowl of grits." He handed Amberlin a dry dishtowel.

"You can dry the dishes, but be very careful. Wet dishes can be slippery and end up making a big mess on the floor if you drop one."

"I'll be careful, Papa Jon," she said as she took the first dish from the dish rack where Jonathan had placed it.

"Speaking of being careful, I want to talk to you about last night," Jonathan said. He paused before going on to make sure Rose wasn't within earshot.

"I'm sorry, Papa Jon. I was a bad girl."

Jonathan took another towel from where they hung on the oven door and dried his hands. Bending down to Amberlin's height, he gently grasped her shoulders and looked her straight in her blue-green eyes. "Sweetheart, that's what I want to talk to you about. What you did, whatever it was and however you did it, wasn't wrong. Your grandmother made a mistake. It was late and she was tired and frightened."

"What frightened her, Papa Jon?"

"Well, Rose, like many people, become frightened about things they don't understand, and there are things about you that are beginning to happen that are a mystery, but that doesn't make them wrong or bad. However, I think it would be a good idea if we didn't frighten Rose or the others in the Community. Don't you agree?"

Amberlin thought about this a moment, a confused look on her young face. After a moment she asked, "But what is it that frightens them?"

"Hmm, that's a good question," Jonathan replied. Of course, how would Amberlin know what special powers she might have that others didn't. "Tell you what. That will be our first lesson. Right after breakfast, we'll go out to the Sanctuary."

"Where, Papa Jon?"

"Oh, that's the name I've given to my office space out back, and now it's the name you and I can call it, but only when no one else is around. We'll go over some of the things that frighten others so you'll know what not to do in front of them. Ok?"

Amberlin smiled, and giggled. "First lesson, coming right up in the Saint-u-airy."

Chapter 2

THE GODDESS RETURNS - The Saga of Amberlin Continues. In this next year it is my intention to complete my next 'visionary novel,' the story of Amberlin, the first 'fully enlightened being' who comes to Earth in a female's body.

I invite your participation by reading the saga of Amberlin as it's being written and offering constructive questions and comments. Here's the beginning of Chapter 2 of The Goddess Returns:

Chapter 2

"Top bunk or bottom bunk tonight?" Jonathan asked as he entered Amberlin's room, even though he knew the answer.

"Bottom, please. The top is too high," Amberlin replied. As he lowered her into bed, she asked, "Will you tell me a story, Papa Jon? One of your real ones?"

He sat on the bed next to her and chuckled. How she loved his stories, especially the "real" ones about his life growing up that had at least a thread of truth in them. He paused for a moment, trying to think of one he hadn't told her recently.

"How about the time I met a real spiritual sage?"

"Sure," Amberlin replied, then, "What's a spirit sage?"

"Spiritual sage," Jonathan corrected her. "That's someone who has devoted their life to seeking a closer relationship with God, and who often shares their spiritual journey with others."

"What was the spiritual sage's name?" Amberlin asked as she snuggled down in her bed, preparing for the story.

"His name was Mo Zoloff, and I met him not too far from here, in a retreat center outside of Black Mountain."

"I know where that is kinda'," Amberlin said.

"Yes, well, it's only about an hour or so drive from here, but when I first went there I was staying even closer at my family's summer cabin, just outside of Black Mountain. It was the summer after I graduated from high school. I wasn't really a freelance writer yet, but I sure thought I was, or at least I knew that's what I wanted to be."

"How did you meet Mo?" Amberlin asked.

"Well, like I said, I heard him speak at this retreat center. I remember it like it was yesterday, even though it was, well let's see, close to 30 years ago."

"That's a long time, Papa Jon."

"Not really, sweetheart. It's really just a blinking of God's eye," Jonathan replied. Closing his own eyes, he could picture the rustic, assembly hall filled with people, awaiting the start of Master Mo's talk.

I sat about two-thirds of the way from the front. I could have sat closer but I felt out of my element. This was my first time to be in the presence of an actual guru from India, least that what I thought Master Mo was at the time. You can imagine my surprise when a white man in his mid- to late-30s wearing a white t-shirt and black, baggie pants strolled on stage. There was a sturdy table sitting in the middle of the stage. He stepped out of his sandals and climbed onto the table, where he sat cross-legged facing the audience. The room was already about three-fourths full, but Mo continued to sit there with his eyes closed, meditating, I guess.

As the room filled, he continued to sit quietly, apparently lost in his own reflection. The minutes dragged by. I began to fidget in my chair, as did a number of other people, then we would all grow quiet again in anticipation of Master Mo's talk.

Finally, the figure in the center of the stage opened his eyes, and gazed around for a moment, a smile growing on his face, before he finally broke the silence. "I'm thrilled to see so many people gather here for a 2-hour silent meditation." There was a moment of surprised silence as everyone glanced at each other before realizing it was a joke, then the whole audience burst out laughing as Master Mo joined them. As the laughter finally died down, he spoke again. "And so we begin."

And so we did, and for the next hour I sat mesmerized by the quiet man with the deeply moving and inspiring message. He challenged the audience to look within themselves for their own spark of divinity. He accused our Western culture of looking too much to the East - to places like India and Tibet ¬ for our spiritual sages. He suggested that is was time for us in the Western hemisphere to create our own spiritual leaders, and he even went so far as to suggest that there could be a spiritual sage sitting right there in our own seat.

I was so moved by his message that by the end of the talk, I ignored my customary shyness and approached him on the stage, along with a number of other people enthusiastic about what they'd heard. When it came my turn, I handed Mo my business card. I'd had them printed the week before with my name and phone number on them, and under my name the bold declaration, "Writer."

"I'd like to help you share your message with more people," I stammered. Mo smiled knowingly, nodding his head. "Come see me tomorrow - noon time. Don't be late."

I nodded in return. I wasn't sure how I was going to get myself back the next day but I knew I would, and I did. In fact, I was back at the retreat center before 11 o'clock, which was a good thing, because I had failed to ask Mo where we would meet. It took me close to an hour to find out where he was staying. He had one of the dorm rooms just like everyone else, although he wasn't sharing it with anyone, like most of the retreat participants were.

I knocked lightly on the door, wondering what in the world I was doing there, but then I heard Mo's calm, soothing voice telling me to enter, so taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders like my father had taught me, I turned the handle and walked in.

Mo was sitting at one of the desks scribbling in a notebook. Hearing me enter, he looked up from his work and smiled warmly. "Ahh, my young writer friend who is going to make me famous by sharing my message with the rest of the world. Come in my friend. Make yourself comfortable," he said, pointing to a nearby chair.

As I sat down, I gazed around and realized that the only light in the room, other than that filtering in from the window, came from a dozen or so candles distributed throughout the room.

"I was just capturing some thoughts from my meditation," Mo explained, noticing my puzzled look. "We can turn on some lights if you prefer."

"No, this is fine," I replied, trying to hide my nervousness. "I appreciate your taking time to see me."

"Oh, it is my pleasure. I am intrigued to meet such a young writer, especially one with such an aura of destiny and premonition surrounding him." As he said this, Mo stood up from the desk and walked over to the nearby bed where he sat cross-legged.

"First, let's address the reason you thought you were coming to see me, your interest in writing about me. When I return to my ashram, I will have someone send you background information about my work and me. Upon reviewing it, if you need additional information including an interview, I'll be only too happy to oblige. Will that work for you?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied. "That would be great." Then mustering up my courage, I continued, "What did you mean, the reason I thought I was coming here? For what reason am I really here?"

Mo only smiled at first, nodding his head. "Why, so I could confirm for myself that what I was picking up from you was indeed true, and if true, so I could share it with you."

"And what did you see?"

"Your manifest destiny," Mo replied.

"My what?"

"Your manifest destiny," Mo repeated. "You can think of it as fate - a future event or events that are inevitable. Of course, that might be a bit overstated. We do continue to exercise free choice, so nothing is completely inevitable, although yours might be as close to inevitable as I've ever seen."

I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention as Mo spoke. I wasn't too sure I wanted to know my manifest destiny, but then again, how could I refuse. After all, at 17 years of age I could use as much help with my future as the next recently graduated high school student. "Pull your chair over next to the bed. Don't worry. I won't bite. I just need to make a stronger connection."

I did as Mo instructed. Funny, looking back on it now, I probably should have been more concerned about what this strange little man might do to me, but for some reason I wasn't at all. I was mostly concerned that he might tell me that my "manifest destiny" was to be a bum, or to fail at everything I tried.

I sat there in my chair, just a foot or two from where Mo sat on the bed. He instructed me to close my eyes and to take several deep breaths. Around the third or fourth breath, I felt a light pressure on either side of my forehead and realized it was Mo's hands lightly touching me. They stayed there, just barely perceptible. I started to open my eyes, then thought better of it.

After what felt like a minute or two, I heard a voice. It didn't sound like Mo but it must have been since there wasn't anyone else in the room. The voice was about an octave lower than Mo's and with a strong, foreign accent that I hadn't heard before or since.

"What did he say, Papa Jon?" Amberlin's sleepy voice brought Jonathan back to the present, but he continued in silence for a moment before answering.

"Well, sweetie, he told me I was destined to be a protector and preparer - someone who would prepare the way. That's what he said."

"A protector and preparer for what?"

"He didn't exactly say, but he did tell me I would know at the right time," Jonathan replied, grasping Amberlin's hand that had snuck out from the cover and squeezing it gently.

"And did you?"

Jonathan pondered the question for a moment before replying.
"I guess I can best answer that question this way. I believe God sometimes gives us a second chance to fulfill our destiny, and I certainly feel like he's given me a second chance to fulfill mine."

He paused again, unsure whether to continue, then added. "I feel like you're my second chance. I'm here to protect you and to prepare you so you can fulfill your own destiny."

He wasn't sure whether Amberlin had heard this last comment. Her eyes were now closed and her breathing had become slow and shallow, but as he turned to cut off the light next to her bed, he heard her whisper, "Papa Jon's my protector and provider," and she sighed as she turned on her side and snuggled deeper under the covers.

Jonathan leaned over and kissed her temple. "That's right, sweetheart. As long as there's breath left in this body, I'll always be here for you. I won't make the same mistake twice." He straightened the covers, then turned and tiptoed from the room, but as he returned to his bedroom, he remembered leaving Mo's room over 30 years ago.

His hand had been on the door when the question suddenly occurred to him. "Master Mo, could I ask you one last question?"

"What is it, son?"

"Well, it seems to me that, often times, spiritual matters come in three's, you know, like the Holy Trinity. I was just wondering if there's a third word to go along with protect and prepare?"

Mo considered the question then smiled. "Yes, you could say there is. It's purpose. The one you will protect and prepare will bring purpose to the world. Go in peace, Jonathan."

As Jonathan reached Rose and his bedroom, he braced himself for what he might face on the other side, but as he entered the room he breathed a sigh of relief. Rose was already in bed and apparently asleep.
He quietly changed into his pajamas, then walked over to Rose¹s side of the bed to kiss her goodnight. As he bent over her, he paused and gazed as her face, oh so familiar, after close to 30 years of marriage. He realized now that when he had taken the vow to prepare and protect Amberlin, that it included protecting her from his own wife, and from the whole community where they lived and that Rose was such an integral part of. The task that lay before him loomed much larger than he had, at first imagined -- much larger and much more important too.

©2005 Brad Swift of Life On Purpose Institute, Inc.
This article can be reprinted freely online, as long as the entire article and this resource box are included.

Chapter 1

The Amberlin Series

Book 1

The Goddess Returns (Working Title)

By

W. Bradford Swift

Chapter 1

7-year-old Amberlin watched as her favorite ducky drifted towards the spiraling waterspout as the water drained from the mammoth Victorian-style tub. As the clockwise current of water drew the floating toy into its influence, she smiled and waved her index finger in a counterclockwise motion, then giggled lightly as the spout changed direction and the toy duck followed suit soon after. After a few moments, Amberlin stopped her finger, and the water quickly resumed its customary clockwise motion, until once again she impressed her own will upon the water. She continued playing like this for several moments, enchanted by the game without noticing her grandmother, Rose, quietly observing her, until suddenly…

“What in God’s name are you doing? Oh my Lord,” Rose shrieked. “Jon, Jon. Come up here at once,” She yelled to her husband, but even before he arrived, she took matters into her own hands, as she was accustomed to doing. “You stop that right now, you hear. That’s a bad girl.” Rose grabbed Amberlin’s hand and slapped it sharply across the knuckles. “You mustn’t do such things. Dear God… Jon, Jon. Are you coming or not?” Amberlin tried to stifle her cry of alarm and pain, but a whimper escaped despites her best effort. As she tried to pull her hand from danger, a pair of tears escaped, coursing down her ruddy cheeks.

“What’s all the ruckus about, Rose?” Jonathan Gentry asked as he hurried down the corridor from their bedroom.

“It’s your granddaughter. It’s started… already. She’s only 7 and it’s already begun. Do you have any idea what this means? She’s… she’s…” but Rose couldn’t finish the statement. Grabbing a large pink towel from the rack, she dragged the young girl from the tub, wrapping her in the towel.
“Oh, Rose, calm yourself and tell me what you’re talking about.” Jon smiled reassuringly at his granddaughter, who continued to fight back the tears, the words of her beloved grandmother reverberating in her mind, “That’s a bad girl.”

Rose grabbed her husband’s shoulder. Jonathan winched from the intensity of the grip, as Rose tried again. “She’s only 7, and it’s already started. I was almost 12 before Satan tempted me, and Evelyn had just turned 10 when the curse first visited her. Now, here’s her daughter changing the course of a waterspout with the flick of her finger. Oh, Lord, what are we going to do?”

Unaccustomed to seeing his wife so emotionally distraught yet finding it oddly humorous, Jonathan tried to keep from smiling, knowing it would only inflame her more. He gently took Amberlin from Rose’s arms, as he replied, “Well, to start with we won’t panic. We don’t really know if Amberlin is exhibiting special talents or not.”

“But I saw it. The water was turning in its proper direction as God intended, then she waved her finger and reversed the flow. Water all over the world flows either clockwise or counter-clockwise, Jon, depending on which side of the equator you’re talking about. That’s the way God intended it to be.”

Allowing himself just the hint of a smile, Jonathan gently rocked Amberlin to calm her, as he caressed her golden curls dampened by the tub water. “Well, it’s a bit of an old wives’ … uh, a misconception to think that all waterspouts turn in the same direction. I wrote an article a few years ago on why cyclones rotate clockwise in the southern hemisphere, and counterclockwise in the northern and found out during my research that it’s due to the inertial force of the rotating Earth, but it takes a tremendous amount of air or water for it to take effect. For smaller amounts, like the water in Amberlin’s tub, there are many factors that could have influenced the direction including the shape of the container it’s in, other currents, etc. Who knows, she could have been moving her toes in the water which created a new water current that affected the direction of the draining water, and that would hardly take God’s or Satan’s intervention.

“Now, go get ready for bed, and I’ll tuck Amberlin in. It’s all going to be ok.” Jonathan shared another reassuring smile with both of them. Only Amberlin smiled back.

“Papa Jon, I’m ready for bed,” she said. Placing her head on his shoulder she tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.

“That’s good, Dear Heart. I’ll be tucking you in tonight.”

What I'm Doing & Why

Several years ago, one of my favorite speculative fiction writers, Orson Scott Card, started creating an online community of readers at http://www.hatrack.com/, a community that continues to thrive to this day. As I recall, during my first exposure to the community Scott was posting chapters of the book he was writing at the time, and giving people the opportunity to comment and make suggestions.

I thought, "What a great idea," and promptly stored it away for future use. Well, the future is here now as I pull a writing Purpose Project from the backburner to the a front burner. I envision the Amberlin Series to be just that -- a series of books chronicling the life and times of Amberline Gentry, a spiritual genius who's born into a ultra conservative spiritual community known as Golden Acres. There she is raised by her grandmother, Rose, who is the great-granddaughter of the founding father of Golden Acres, and her grandfather, Jonathan, who quietly practices an 'eclectic spirituality' while living in the fundamentalist community.

Since I started writing this visionary novel about a year ago, I already have several chapters roughed out which I will be posting over the next several days. My plan is to then continue to post chapters as they are written.

I invite your participation by reading the saga of Amberlin as it's being written and offering constructive questions and comments. I'll also post more about what I'm particularly looking for that falls under the heading of "constructive questions and comments."

Ok, on with the chapters.