January 30, 2019

That's What I'm Looking For...




Lately I've been wrestling with a question.

Well, not just lately. I've been struggling with this question for a long time now. It's just recently, after writing a play about a love story and then walking through a breakup shortly after, that I've actually had the time to really ponder this conundrum all over again. That question is this...

What is love?

I know the typical answer, from a Christian perspective, is that "God is love." That's true, and I treasure that truth in my heart. But at the moment I'm talking about romantic love. I've been turning it over and over in my mind, and I just keep coming up short. I've even interviewed people I know on the subject, asking questions about how they and their significant other met and when they "knew" this was the person they'd spend the rest of their life with.

Was it a bolt of lightning or writing on the wall? Was it some magical fuzzy feeling, or something they said? Was it a particular list of things they had in common?

The evidence I've found has been...inconclusive at best. Everyone's story is different. All lovely, all perfectly orchestrated by God in his perfect timing. But all different.

Today, when I was asking God more questions, he placed my favorite book series on my heart. I haven't touched its pages in months, which is unusual for me. Over the years it seems I've constantly gone back to that one series to find deeper wisdom, and allowed God to speak to my heart from it.

That series is Dragons in our Midst by Bryan Davis.

Today God brought to mind two specific quotes from that series. Quotes that I used to have memorized, and yet now had almost totally forgotten. Apparently, I needed a refresher.

Boy, did I ever.

The first quote is from Tears of a Dragon (Dragons in our Midst, Book 4, pages 103,105)

When it comes to being a godly wife someday, this quote always convicts me, because these are points that involve patience, and I am not good at that. But I'm growing, and I have a feeling I'll keep coming back to this passage as I do.

And not only does this apply to being a godly wife, but as a sister, a daughter, and a friend, too.

    Bonnie glanced around at all the quiet activity. "Isn't anyone going with Walter?" she asked. "He looked really upset."
    Marilyn spread one arm around Ashley and one around Bonnie. "There's something I've learned about men. They're indispensable. Well, not all men, I suppose, but at least the good ones. In one way, they're fiercely independent, holding their own beliefs and passionately following visions that no one else can see. They need time alone to gather their thoughts, seek God's counsel, and get reenergized. But, when they get back together, they lay aside their differences and forge an unbreakable unit, like a single sword that rips through their enemies with furious rage."
    Ashley pulled away from Marilyn's embrace. "I think I understand what they're feeling. I'd like to be alone for a while, too." She strolled toward the trees, waving behind her. "I'll be back."
    Marilyn kept her arm around Bonnie. "Looks like it's you and me, kid."

(Skipping down a little bit to where the conversation picks up again)

    (Marilyn) wrapped her arms around her legs and pulled them closer. "Trials change a man, you know. They make a godly man stronger, wiser, a better leader, and, believe it or not, more humble."
    Marilyn nodded toward Billy. He was shining the pendant's light on a page of Fama Regis, carefully studying the glowing letters. The light flashed back into his face, trimming his skin in scarlet and brushing his hair with reddish highlights. Bonnie smiled. Billy looked more like his father than ever before.
    "Whatever you do, Bonnie, give him room to be a leader. Give him time to fill out his masculine frame, always supporting him with love and encouragement. If he drags himself home from a defeat on the battlefield, impatient nagging will just cut his legs from under him, but an encouraging word will puff his chest out and make him charge back into battle. He needs a woman to inject him with power and purpose, because a good man draws his sword for only one reason, to protect his wife and children."
    Another tingle raced across Bonnie's skin, and her heart thumped. Her soul drank in the words as Marilyn continued.
"The mind-numbing complaints of a shrieking shrew will pour acid in his cuts and squeeze dry his masculine energy. But the tender hands of a loving wife will salve his wounds and open the floodgates to power from above."

This conversation totally put things in perspective for me. And it opened my eyes to the fact that I handled so many things incorrectly in my past relationships. I love how beautifully this is worded, and I ache to be this kind of person so desperately. To be the kind of woman who lifts up the men in her life, and infuses them with the strength and energy to charge onto the spiritual battle field.

The other thing I've learned about love from this series, though, is that being a godly wife first requires the commitment of a godly man. That's where the next passage comes in. Without a doubt, this is my favorite conversation in any book I've ever read, and the pages of this chapter are worn to prove it. These words always bring a smile to my face and light a flame within me, spurring me on to wait for a man who will see me this way.

This passage is from The Bones of Makaidos (Oracles of Fire, Book 4, pages 483-485)

    Clearing his throat and hoping to keep his voice steady, he said, "So does that mean you don't want to marry me?" He cringed. Was that too bold?
    (Bonnie's) face displayed half amusement and half anguish. "No, no. That's not it at all. I just want to know that I don't have to marry you. I want us both to be sure that we want to. If you love me, I want you to pursue my heart with your courage, your kindness, and your godly manner. And I want to freely give my heart to you in love, not by compulsion because of a prophecy that seems to chain us together without a choice."
    As she continued, tears streamed down both cheeks. "Ever since Someone labeled me as the prophetic virgin bride, I was okay with it, because you're such a great guy, but it felt like an arranged marriage. We didn't have any choice. Then, when I heard that the prophesy might not be for us, I felt free. I didn't have to marry you if I didn't want to."
    She caressed his cheek, her voice shaking. "But that's a good thing, Billy. If we really do get married, neither one of us will ever wonder about being bound by someone else's words, a predestined edict that denies our free will and forces us to obey its irresistible decree. Instead we can come together by a choice to love that is free and resistible, because if we aren't able to choose to walk away from each other, then our coming together wouldn't be because of love at all, would it?"
    As she drew back her hand, a torrent of conflicting emotions flooded his mind. She was so right. Being bound like that wouldn't be love. Freedom to choose a life partner was the basis of love in the first place. Being dragged by fiat into a relationship would be nothing more than bondage. Still, not knowing for sure that he would forever be with this amazing girl nearly tore him apart. Finally, he squeezed out a reply. "I...I think you're right. But it's scary. It was kind of..." He paused. The words had to be just right. "It was comfortable, I guess, knowing that you would be in my future. I didn't have to guess what was going to happen."
    Her fists clenched in her lap. "But I don't want you to be comfortable. I want you to win my heart. I want you to fight for me, sweat for me, bleed for me. I want you to know that you had to pay a valuable price for me, and that I am a treasure in your mind, not a trophy that was handed to you because of a divine proclamation."
    Billy looked into her fiery eyes. She had been bold, confident, and true. Again, she was right, and he couldn't say a word.
    She laid her palms on her chest, covering the sunburst on her uniform. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, she extended her arms, her palms up. "Here is my heart, Billy. It's yours if you want it. But you have to buy it. And since it's the most valuable possession I have, it will be very expensive."
    He glanced between her palms and her pleading eyes. "How much will it cost me?"
    With a quivering smile, she wept through her words. "Everything. It will cost you your life, your devotion, your commitment to love me for the rest of your life till death do us part." Sniffing back a sob, she added, "But don't answer now. I don't want words. Show me. Show me that you'll pay the price for my heart, and I'll show you that it's worth every drop of sweat and blood you spend."
    Billy cupped his hand over her palms, making a covering for her "heart." Firming his jaw, he pushed every ounce of energy he had into his voice, giving it strength, yet a sense of calmness, like a lighthouse in the midst of a storm. "Watch me, Bonnie. We have battles ahead. We have enemies to conquer. And we have women and children to protect from some of the greatest evils imaginable. But I will not neglect this mission. I will show you how much you mean to me, how precious your heart is to mine. And when you see how much I'm willing to pay, then you can decide if it's enough to buy what is priceless."

The very idea of a man ever loving me this much is unfathomable to me. Honestly, I could type up this entire series scene by scene for examples of beautiful godly relationships. I've been reading about these characters since the 5th grade, and I've gotta tell you, even though the men in these books are far from perfect, they set the standard at an early age.

I don't want to settle.

Not when it comes to being a godly woman. Not when it comes to finding a godly man. And definitely not when it comes to building a godly marriage.

I have this list. It's the typical "I Need A Guy Who..." list that every girl makes when waiting for her husband to come along. Mine has well over fifty points to it so far. But God convicted me about that a few months ago.

"You only need one," he said. "Let me give it to you."

So, I opened my heart, and he did. That one standard is this...

"Can I serve God better with this man by my side than I can without?"

This hit me so hard. Especially when I realized that, so far, for every guy I've ever dated, the answer was no. Every single one.

Honestly, though, it's not their fault. The realm of ministry I'm in is so, so hard. It's the type of ministry that you can't really get away from when you go home. I'm painstakingly aware that the guy God sends my way is going to have to be prepared for so many things, and he's going to have to put up with having a crazy theatre ministry director as a wife. I get it, that is not normal. He's going to have to be very special and unique, and I'm counting on it. I won't settle for anything less.

So...if my future guy happens to be reading this...

Here's my heart.

It's yours if you want it. But you have to buy it. And since it's the most valuable possession I have, it will be very expensive. It will cost you everything. Your life, your devotion, your commitment to love me for the rest of your life till death do us part. But don't answer me now. I don't want words. Show me. Show me that you'll pay the price for my heart, and I'll show you that it's worth every drop of sweat and blood you spend.

January 13, 2019

What Adults Don't See: The Problem Is Never The Problem



"What is your problem?"

It's a fair enough question.  Everyone has one. In fact, I'm extremely willing to bet that everyone has several. There's just the difference between those who honestly admit it, and those who don't.

I'm one of those people who admits it. The one that everyone dreads asking the "How are you?" question, because they know I'll answer honestly.  If I'm not okay, I will tell you flat out. I don't have secrets.  As a youth leader and theatre director I make every effort in the world to be as real as possible, and being an open book seems to be the best way to do that.

The thing about being an open book... It's contagious.

A little while ago I wrote about working in youth ministry, and several lessons I've learned from it. One of those lessons involved vocabulary words that have become a part of my everyday conversations. Self-harm. Anorexia. Depression. Pornography. Anxiety. PTSD. Suicide. The list goes on and on. And what I've found over the years is that there's one thing all of these words have in common.

These words are not the problem.

Parents tell me all the time how their teen is acting out/hiding away/always searching for something more.

"I just don't know why they're clinging so hard to this unhealthy relationship."

"They're so angry all the time for no reason."

"We've tried every preventative measure and punishment, but they can't get past this addiction."

I hate to tell you this, but Jack Sparrow might have actually been right about something: "The problem is not the problem, the problem is your attitude about the problem."

When young adults are struggling through emotional baggage, gripping tightly to unhealthy habits/relationships, and becoming self-destructive, it's not a disease. The words in that list up there are not a diagnosis. They're a symptom.

Here's an example...

Say you have a brain tumor. It's there, it's growing, it inhibits the functionality of your daily life, and you're well aware that it exists. But instead of searching for a treatment for the original issue, you take a variety of medications to suppress the pains associated with that issue. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Not even close.

In fact, the longer you go along ignoring the tumor, the more it will grow, and the worse the symptoms will become.

I've known parents who found out that their teen had depression and was suicidal, and instead of offering compassion and seeking the source of the issue, reacted with anger. Some of the parents I've encountered even separated their child from our team of counselors when we tried to help them, grounding the teen from social situations and communication devices, and isolating them even further.

Let me be very clear: This is not the answer.

Separating the youth from positive social situations and denying the problem exists does not lead to a solution, it makes you an enabler.

If a teen you know is struggling with some sort of problem mentality, you have much bigger things to worry about than the initial situation. In every case I've seen, something much deeper was going on. These youth were dying inside long before the signs began to surface. This is where much more important words enter the picture.

Bullying. Emotional and physical abuse. Loss of a loved one. Divorce. Abandonment. Traumatic experience. Anything that might have altered the teens life in a dramatic way that they had no control over.

This is where the disease is found.

Now, I'm not saying it's a consistent rule that there's always something more going on behind the scenes when these symptoms appear. But in almost 8 years of youth ministry, I have yet to encounter a young adult situation where this didn't turn out to be the case. Thankfully, there is a solution...

Get to the source.

Now, those four words have more than one meaning. And each meaning is just as crucial as the others for getting to a cure. In my experience, these are the measures that improve and even prevent harmful situations from taking place.

1. The Source of the Emotion

When an initial outburst of unusual emotion happens, please, PLEASE do not revert to accusing the youth of "just wanting attention." I can't even tell you how damaging this is. Nine times out of ten there is something so much deeper going on. Every time you pull out the attention card you're telling the youth in question that you are not a person they can ever feel safe opening up to. The youth is going to lose respect for you, cling more tightly to their negative behavior, and will start seeking out other (most likely less moral) sources of comfort and trust.

Instead, try to get to the source of the behavior. Why do they seek out this habit/addiction/relationship? What need is it filling for them (and what is something positive that could fill that need instead)? When was the inciting incident that set this in motion?

And if the source of the issue happens to involve you in a negative way, LISTEN. Do not react with immediate harshness and anger. Calmly hear them out, ask questions about how the situation can be made better. Compromise. In other words, please, BE THE ADULT.

Put simply, react the way you would want your teen to react if roles were reversed and you brought a fault to their attention. Be respectful, attentive, and make an effort to understand their thoughts rather than jumping to hasty conclusions.

2. The Source of the Symptom

Once the source of the initial emotion is discovered, you can work toward a solution to the symptoms. When did depression start becoming more prevalent in their life? If drugs and alcohol are a bandage, where's the wound? What brought on their distrust in adult relationships, and caused them to start disrespecting authority? Find out their logic behind it.

Trust me, in most cases it doesn't take a PHD to get teens to open up. All it takes is someone who's willing to listen without immediately judging them or telling them their problem "could be worse." To them, the problem already is worse. All they want is someone to talk to about it.

Again, this takes calm listening skills, patience, and a gentle nature. Don't rush them to open up. Don't force them into telling you. Just respectfully ask the questions and allow them to tell you in their own time (it'll be sooner than you think, I promise).

No matter the attitude you're getting, the young person has most likely already considered needing help and advice in their situation, and are simply searching out the right person to approach by process of elimination. When they're finally ready to open up, make sure you're the person they feel safe with, instead of the person who will immediately default to anger and problem-solving.

Make the person more important than the problem.

3. The Source of True Healing

At the center of everything, what your youth needs more than anything is prayer. Lift them up to God daily. Ask that the Lord will surround them with people who can uplift and encourage them in the right ways when you aren't able to. Make sure your youth knows that you and God will both love them no matter what choices they make.

Seriously, that last one is super important.

So many young people think love from the adults in their life is conditional. Any overstepping of boundaries or doing something worthy of disappointment and they suddenly feel like they'll only be tolerated by their family for the rest of their lives. This isn't an exaggeration. So many teens feel this way, and it breaks my heart.

Let them know, before it's too late, that your love for them is unconditional instead of the alternative. Reassure them constantly that you're there for them no matter what. Remind them that you're there to walk with them through the storms, and that God is in control. Give them every opportunity to know that you are a safe place, a source of solid ground, and that you're willing to fight for them in every kind of storm.


I know I'm a young, unmarried person who has no parenting experience, so I understand if you have some reservations about heeding this advice. I only hope that you test these waters for yourself. Interview the teens in your life and find out if this process of assistance is something they would find beneficial.

I'm so very thankful for the young people that God has placed in my social circle. I consider them dear friends and family, and watching them grow is such a major blessing. I hope you have the chance to experience that joy!

I hope you all have a blessed week. Keep changing the world one step at a time!




January 1, 2019

Bits and Pieces: The Shadow



(Please enjoy this excerpt from the revised and refreshed 2nd edition of The Iridian Dagger from my Fluents and Shadows series, coming Spring 2019!)

***

A few moments later, after picking up a few scattered papers that had drifted into the hallway and tossing them back into the office, James closed the door. Try as he may, he couldn’t keep himself from shaking. He leaned on the door handle for a moment to maintain his balance. How was he supposed to explain this? Because of his untimely visit, he was likely to be the number one suspect in the murder of Andrew Harris.
“What next, James? What next?” He mumbled to himself, only half aware of anything around him. “Let go of the door, take a deep breath, and move!”
“Hey, is everything okay?”
The voice made James look up with a start. Jared was standing just a few feet away. There was a quizzical look on his face. “Yeah, I’m fine.” James lied.
Jared obviously wasn’t falling for it. He took a few steps forward and placed a concerned hand on James’s shoulder, examining his most likely very pale face in the process. “Are you sure? Because you look like you're dying.”
James finally forced himself to let go of the door handle and somehow managed to put on a grim smile. “I’m just feeling kind of lightheaded. Do you know when my mom is supposed to come in today?”
“She just pulled into the parking lot, actually. Would you like me to send her this way?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Do you want anything for your head? Some pain meds? A peppermint maybe?”
James shook his head. At this point he didn’t think anything would help the sick feeling go away. “No, I think I’m good. Thank you, though.” James turned quickly to walk away, but Jared caught the top of his backpack to slow him down.
“Hey, by the way, I still want to read one of your short stories sometime if that’s okay. Your mom brags them up all the time.”
James stumbled over his words. “I’ll email one to you.”
“Great! I'm looking forward to it.”
With that, Jared left the office wing, and James regained the ability to breathe.  
That is, until his mom arrived.
Worry was etched on her forehead. “James, Jared told me to rush in here and see you. Why aren’t you at your internship?”
“Mom… Andrew is…um…”
And it was here, at this moment, that James’s adrenaline was no longer enough to hold back his emotion. Tears began to escape their prison in the back of his throat. His head was swirling, so he sat down slowly and leaned up against the wall. He couldn’t speak anymore. The only reaction to her question he could manage was a long, sorrowful look in the direction of Andrew’s office door.
When he looked back at his mom, her expression had changed from question and worry to pure terror as her eyes darted to the door. James watched her closely.  Suddenly he was even more afraid than he had been, if that was even possible. Something in her tense posture told him that there was much more to this situation. He didn’t know how yet, but his mom had known this would happen. Maybe not when. But that was a look of dread on her face, not surprise.
“Mom?”
She blinked, as though just remembering he was there. Then she stared for several moments, right through his eyes into his thoughts, scanning for emotional damage like mom’s so often do. A moment later she was kneeling in front of him, her hands squeezing the very life out of his own. “James, everything is going to be okay, but I need you to do something very important for me. Do you trust me?”
The oddly placed question on the end made him hesitate, but James wiped his eyes and nodded. He did trust her. Of course he did. But the fact that she felt the need to ask made him uneasy. What kind of situation had he walked into? “Mom, you’re freaking me out a little bit.”
“I know I am, and I promise I’ll explain everything later. But right now I need you to find Jared and ask him to drive you to your internship.”
Wait…what? His internship? How could he possibly function at an internship after this? That didn’t make any sense. “I don’t think I can, Mom.”
“You have to, James. Please, for your safety and mine, you have to go.” She stood and offered a hand. Her voice was still steady, but there was urgency in her eyes. “Quickly now, before we have unwelcome company.” Once he stood, she was practically shoving him toward the lobby.
“Unwelcome company? Mom, what the heck is going on?” He turned to face her when they reached the door and placed his hands forcefully on her shoulders. “Mom! Confused, scared, and impressionable teenage boy here. Talk to me, please!”
She took a few nervous breaths before answering. Her tone was much lower this time, and she didn’t blink once, which put James even more on edge. “I love you, kid. But if you insist on exercising your famous curiosity today I will knock you out with a tranquilizer and stuff you in Jared’s trunk myself.” Despite the sarcasm, there seemed to be a note of finality in her words that James tried extra hard to ignore.
“Noted.” He said, feeling his eyes grow wider.
“When you get to Jared, tell him to enact Code Omega. He’ll know what to do from there.”
Code Omega… James thought he recalled the meaning of that word from a Latin class he’d taken once, but he promptly ignored the nudge. “Got it. Anything else?”
“Yes, just one more thing.” She leaned forward.
The hug James received next was pretty much the worst thing he had ever experienced. It was tight, and tense, and nearly forced all the air from his lungs. It was the opposite of the typical mom hugs that he loved so much, and that was the final push that made him realize he needed to stop asking questions and obey her request. Something was seriously wrong, and something told James if he wanted to stay alive long enough to find out what he would just have to go along with this.
Jared popping Cheetos into his mouth in the lobby was the very next thing he saw.
“Jared.” James voice shook as he approached the desk.
“Hey, you’re back! Would you like a…um…” His snacking invitation trailed off as soon as he saw James’s face. “Talk to me. What happened?”
“My mom said you’re supposed to, uh, bring me to my internship and enact Code Omega.”
James had never seen a personality change so fast. It only took a moment of realization, and then the once bubbly college student stood up with a military-like straightness. Eyes still trained on James, Jared reached for something under the desk with direct precision.
With all that had happened in one morning James wasn’t sure how much of his own vision he could trust, so when the receptionist pulled out a pistol and tucked it in the back of his khakis, James barely reacted. Jared then grabbed a gray jacket, putting it on to cover the weapon, and stepped out from behind the desk.
“This way.” Jared placed a protective hand on James’s shoulder and began leading him toward the back employee exit. “We need to get you out of here.”
“What about my mom?”
“She’s more than a little capable of taking care of herself, James. More than you know. Trust me, she’ll be just fine.”
“Jared, what – ?”
“No more questions, please. The more we say out in the open, the more danger comes to those you care about.”
The amount of words begging to escape from James’s thoughts just then was at an all time high. Even so, he kept his mouth shut as requested, allowing himself to be swept along toward Jared’s car. James barely recalled even getting into the passenger seat before he and Jared were getting out again outside of the Minnesota Science Museum.
“Is there a name I need to know? A supervisor, someone you were supposed to meet when you got here?” Jared asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you have something with his name on it that you could show me?”
“Um…” James reached into the pockets of his jeans. The front two held a rubber band and a folded piece of paper (most likely containing a story idea or two). There were a couple paperclips as well. His back right pocket, however, held a business card. James passed it underhandedly to Jared.
“Perfect. Just the name I was hoping for.”
“You know him?”
“You bet. We go way back.” Jared held the door open for James. “He kind of hates me though, so when we get inside it would probably be best for you to do the talking.”
“Me? I have no idea what’s even going on!”
“Exactly! He hasn’t met you, and you’re clueless. Two very good reasons for me to keep my mouth shut.”
“Gee, thanks. Remind me to throw you under the bus next time the opportunity arises.”
“Will do, friend. Will do.”
Upon entering the lobby of the familiar museum, James sent his focus upward to look at the huge pterodactyl skeleton that was hanging overhead. Laughter echoed around the open room, coming from a group of kids that were happily staring at a wall near the far edge where several tubes of water ran from floor to ceiling. Bubbles floated up the tubes in a synchronized order to create varying shapes, a giant smiley face in this case. There was a map of the world covering the floor. Colors were everywhere. This would have been such a cool place for a summer internship.
Would have been.
James had received his staff lanyard the week prior, so he didn’t have to stop at the front desk this time. That was a relief. The ability to head straight for the less public staff offices without stopping was a blessing James would have normally taken for granted. But not today. Or it would have been a blessing, if a security guard hadn’t stopped him just a few feet from the door.
“I’m sorry.” The guard said gruffly. “I’m going to need to scan before you enter. It’s just a safety precaution.”
“Um, okay.” James said anxiously.
Jared gave James a curious, bent-eyebrow expression, as though asking if this was normal.
James shrugged, shaking his head. This was an unusual occurrence at the museum.
The guard extended his scanner. At first everything seemed just fine. James had to remove the paper clips from his pocket, but obviously that wasn’t a problem. Then the scanner reached his backpack. A crazy amount of beeping sounded.
“I need to ask you to remove your backpack.”
What could possibly be in there that would set off the scanner like that? The answer hit James like a pillowcase full of rocks. He gave Jared a worried look as the guard began unzipping the pack and mouthed, “Help me.”
Jared stepped forward. “Sir, may I ask why the museum is doing scans today? From my understanding this isn’t a normal thing around here.”
“The museum has had some problems with theft lately, and they believe it might be an inside job. I’m here to make sure that’s not the case.”
“Okay, but when did you start working here? For all I know you could be a guy off the street going through our personal possessions. Do you have a badge, or some sort of proof that you have clearance?”
There was the slightest shift in the guard’s expression. He zipped the backpack. “It doesn’t look like there’s anything of consequence in your bag. You’re free to enter.” He smiled with a stern brow. “Have a nice day.”
James turned swiftly away from the guard, and then he and Jared walked into the office portion of the building.
“Well, that wasn’t the least bit suspicious.” Jared stated after the door had closed.
“Not at all.” James agreed.
“What do you have in there that set off his scanner?”
James started sweating even harder than before. “That’s a difficult question to answer, and I probably shouldn’t until we’re someplace private.”
“Okay, temporarily ignoring your scarily vague statement, do you know where Samuel’s office is?”
“I do, actually. Right this way.”
They started off down the hall.
Meanwhile, James was trying to decide which he was more uneasy about. The unexplained circumstances that lay behind him, or the ones that lay ahead. They both seemed equally captivating, and both demanded his attention. However, the more he thought, the more anxious he became. By the time they reached Samuel’s office toward the end of the winding hallway, James’s stomach had managed to tie itself into so many knots he feared it would never unravel. Something deep inside was telling him that somehow his dad was the connecting factor, but in what way he didn’t have the slightest clue. All he could think to do was send up a short prayer.
Dear Lord, I don’t know who this Samuel guy is, but help him to have answers. And help me not to puke all over his office. Amen.

Maggie gradually made her way through the maze of towering bookshelves on her route to the kitchen. The library, which overtook the center of the large room, was her favorite place in the whole house. The window seat on the back wall was the perfect place for reading, and the high ceilings created space for her thoughts to take flight. Most people would find this many books intimidating, an army of parchment surrounding their next helpless victim. But to Maggie, they were a comfort, old friends that were always there. She had spent many rainy days in this room, reading book after book and experiencing adventures beyond her imagination. She had every shelf memorized, as well as its contents. She loved the smell of aged paper that filled the room. It was her favorite smell, and it made her feel at home. These were more than just books; they were her family.
But none of them were nearly as dear to her as Sam.
Sam had been her only family as far back as she could remember. She had no parents around, or siblings. None that she knew of. And she had figured out very early on that Samuel wasn’t her real brother. Sam had taken Maggie in when she was only three, and that was all he would ever tell her. All she knew of her family was based on a scar on her neck behind her left ear. She had never paid much attention to it, though. Her hair had always been kept long to keep it hidden. Sam had always told her it was to protect a valuable battle scar. She had never managed to work out what he meant by that.
Either way, it hadn’t been hard to figure out that she and Sam weren’t related. His straight blond hair had always stood out next to her brown curls. But no matter how many times she asked, Sam refused to talk about her parents. He had many secrets, which sometimes drove her crazy. Even so, he had been her dearest companion through the years, and she trusted him with all her heart. It was just her and Sam, and she was all right with that.
Maggie pushed open the door to the kitchen and stepped inside. The room still smelled like the pancakes and bacon they had devoured for breakfast. After a quick look around, she sighed happily. Her book was on the counter right where she had left it. The Day Boy and The Night Girl by George Macdonald, such a classic.
Book in hand, Maggie was just about to leave the kitchen in the direction of her reading nook in the loft. Before she could take more than two steps, however, Sam burst into the room with a worried expression creasing his brow.
“And you’re certain?”
Maggie sat down and watched him pace back and forth with a cell phone to his ear. Judging by his tone of voice, something very bad had happened at work in his absence.
“Hold on…you didn’t find him first? Oh, this is grave indeed. I feared this would happen. Are they on their way to my office? Very good. We will leave immediately. God be with you.” Sam ended the call and hurriedly stuffed the phone in his pocket. “It’s happened.”
He was trembling so badly that Maggie thought he might fall over. He ran the anxious fingers of one hand through his hair while supporting himself on the table with the other. Maggie didn’t even need to ask. She knew exactly what “it” indicated.
“Samuel, is he…” Maggie swallowed, trying not to let the fear show in her voice and failing miserably. “Is he dead?”
Samuel shook his head and took a deep breath. “I don’t think so.”
“If he’s not dead, then what…” Maggie couldn’t finish. Suddenly she didn’t want an answer to her question.
Samuel could guess what she was getting at. “I’m afraid the alternative is much worse.”
Sam straightened up with a breath of urgency. He stepped over to her, reaching down to take her hands into his. Maggie let him guide her to her feet, and they stood toe to toe. She could tell he was trying to keep his emotions in check.
“Maggie, the entire world has changed for us in the past ten minutes, and I’m going to ask that you pretend that’s not the case. Can you do that for me?”
She nodded shortly, putting on the bravest face she could muster despite her racing heart.
“They’ve blocked off Andrew’s office, the history center is closed down until further notice, and all the employees have been sent home. They’re honoring his wishes, and are transporting him to a safe facility. I’m going to give you a choice. You can come with me, or you can go with the agents who are transporting Andrew until I come for you.”
Was this even real? She had always wanted to go on a field mission with Samuel. But under the dire circumstances she tried not to let the anticipation show. “I’m going with you, of course. I wouldn’t even dream of doing anything else.”
“Okay. But, Maggie, that means if I tell you to do something, you have to do it. No questions. These people are dangerous, and they wouldn’t think twice about killing a seventeen-year-old girl. You need to promise me that you’ll be constantly on your guard, and heed every instruction.”
“I promise, Sam. I’ll do anything you ask of me. What can I do?”
“First, I need you to get your emergency bag and anything else you can gather in five minutes. Then meet me at the car.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
He nodded solemnly. “Pray, Maggie. Pray hard. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
Maggie bolted toward her room, still trying to keep her eagerness contained. What had happened to Andrew was definitely tragic, but she hadn’t known him very well. Right now the only thought on her mind was getting out of this house and going on a real, actual adventure for the first time in her life. She would be one step closer to proving herself as a real LK agent, just like Sam.
She had dreamed of going on a Light Keeper mission since she was little. Becoming a field agent had been her passion, her dream job, her every thought and daily prayer since she first learned about the organization. She wanted to help people. She wanted to serve God everyday and put her life on the line for those in need just like Sam had done for her since she was young.
“Now’s your chance.” Maggie whispered to herself as she dug her emergency bag out of her closet. “Rapunzel, it’s time to leave the tower. Finally!”
Moments later she was climbing into the passenger seat of Sam’s white Honda Prelude. He threw their bags in the trunk, and then they were off. Maggie had never felt her heart beat faster or louder in her entire life.
“Remember,” Sam broke the silence after they had been on the road for a few minutes, “when we get to the museum you are not to leave my side. Samyaza’s Pride will have agents all over this city after what happened today, and the last thing I want is a second casualty.”
“Samuel, you and I both know I’m stronger and smarter than that.” Maggie said.
The grave look that Samuel gave her in reply shook her confidence a bit. “I do know that, Maggie. I don’t doubt that in the slightest. But what we’re dealing with is worse than just man power. This is demonic, and you would be no match for it. At least not yet.”
Maggie turned to him with a start. His words hadn’t been entirely shocking to her. At least, not until the very last one. “Yet?”
“What?” Sam looked horrified.
“You said I would be no match ‘yet’. What do you mean by that?”
“Never mind. Tip of the slongue.” He wagged his head. “I meant slip of the tongue! It was a mistake, that’s all.”
“But why did you-?“
“Oh, good. We’re here!” He interrupted as they pulled into the underground parking, raising a knowing eye roll from Maggie.
She was no stranger to Sam’s odd way of keeping secrets while badly pretending he didn’t have them. It was annoying, but as they entered the parking garage next to the Science Museum she decided to humor him. Now was not the time to drown him in questions. That time would come later.
“Try your best to keep a brisk pace if you’re able.” Sam swung the car into an empty spot close to the elevator. He continued speaking quickly as they left the vehicle. “We’re meeting someone who needs protection. Someone who knows absolutely nothing about the LK or what we do. He might be here already, so I want to get to my office as quickly as I possibly can.”
The moment they left the elevator on the main floor, Sam hurried his walking pace. Maggie had to practically jog to keep up with his long-legged stride, but she didn’t ask him to slow down. She was determined not to give him any reason to regret bringing her along, and forcing him to slow his urgent gait might do just that. He was obviously extremely on edge about the whole situation, which just spiked Maggie’s curiosity about who they were meeting even more.
The name of the game today seemed to be “Look Straight Ahead And Ignore Everybody.” Goodie, my favorite game. Maggie thought sarcastically.
If it was a game, though, Sam was a professional. He rushed past several coworkers who didn’t even have the chance to give a subtle hello before Sam had already gotten beyond them. If Maggie wasn’t so anxious, she might have been impressed. Samuel was turning introversion into a major league sport.
They made it to Sam’s office door without any interruptions, thank goodness. When they entered his office, however, a whole other problem greeted them. Maggie shuffled into the room behind Sam with a breathless expression.
“It’s trashed.” She gasped. “Did the SP do this?”
“Step in and close the door,” was Sam’s only reply. Without a moment of hesitation he began picking up all the documents that had been carelessly thrown to the floor. Maggie helped him gather and sort everything into the proper filing cabinets. Everything else seemed to be in order. But there was no doubt that the place had been searched thoroughly. Once all the papers had been put back in place, he sat down at his desk and sighed. “The SP is missing something.”
“What do you think it is?” Maggie sat down in the seat across from him.
“I have a couple guesses. But, whatever it is, I don’t have it.”
“Did they steal anything?”
“Not that I could tell. But if they’re willing to get this close to my whereabouts, that missing item must be incredibly important.”
As Sam spoke, a small warning light in the back of Maggie’s mind turned red. She became suddenly aware that Sam had been shifting his eyes to the plant in the corner of the room ever since they’d arrived. Something was wrong. Even now he was watching it distractedly for several moments at a time.
“Sam?”
He blinked, seeming to wake from his thoughts. “Hmm?”
Maggie tilted her head and sent him a quizzical brow.
Sam replied to her silent question by mouthing one word. “Shadow.”
At first Maggie didn’t notice his meaning. The plant had a shadow. What about it? Then something felt…off slightly. At first she couldn’t put her finger on it. Then his meaning came over her like the ice cold eeriness of a foggy morning.
The shadow. The plant’s shadow was on the wrong side. Maggie’s breath froze in her lungs.
Sam mouthed one more word to her, and it was a word she happily complied to.
“Run.”

“Are you just going to stand there?” Jared asked calmly. “Or are you going to knock like a normal person? I can’t remember how the cool kids do it these days.”
“I’m not sure. The first time I knocked on a door this morning I ended up finding a corpse.” Even now, the thought sent a chill down James’s spine.
“Oh, come on now. What are the odds of that happening twice in one day?”
All James could find in the way of a response was a look of total terror. He turned to Jared. “Knowing my luck, pretty darn high.”
Jared straightened out and stared at him blankly for a moment before offering, “Would you like me to knock on the door, James?”
“Yes, please,” James said before Jared could even finish his sentence.
Jared stepped in front of the door. “Alright, here goes nothing.”  Forming his lips into a line with a sigh, he raised a closed hand to the door and prepared to knock.
Neither of them had to knock, however, because in the next moment a screech -- sounding everything but earthly -- filled the air. Before James and Jared had the chance to even think about sprinting away in fright, the door opened with an explosion of black matter and sent the two flying backwards. James’s head received a heavy blow for the second time that day when it hit the floor. Vertigo kept him curled up on the carpet long enough afterwards that he missed getting a second look at the dementor-like creature.
The next thing that registered was a pair of gray eyes.
“Sam, I think this one might need medical attention.” A feminine voice said. “He’s looking a bit cross-eyed.”
A male voice answered her. “Check for bleeding, I’ve got Jared.”
A gentle hand brushed James’s hair away from his forehead and combed over his scalp.
“He’s not bleeding as far as I can tell. He’s a little out of it, though. It’s possible he could have a concussion.”
James’s tried to get a good look at the two speakers, but his vision was still blurring in and out. He barely took note of words leaving his mouth, sounding more like a bumbling infant than a 17 year old. A great first impression, he was sure.
“I can’t understand him.” The girl said.
“We don’t have time to figure that out right now. That Shadow could return any minute. We need to move.”
It was then that his vision grew more stable, and he finally regained control over his voice. He sat up slowly, blinking. “What the heck was that thing?”
The girl looked upward. “Oh, praise God, he’s okay. Can you stand?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
“Here, I’ll help you.” She leaned down and wrapped one arm around his waist as James wrapped one arm around her shoulders. She helped him remain stable as he stood. “Do you feel dizzy? Anything broken?”
James shook his head. “The day is still young, though, so we might want to take it slow.”
Sam yelled from just ahead. “We might not have that option!” Jared was flung over his shoulder, apparently unconscious. One of the dark, scary, ghost-like creatures was blocking their way, hissing opposingly.
“Can you stand on your own?” the girl asked.
“Mm-hmm,” was the best James could do.
“Good, because we need to run. Now.”
Just then, the creature in the hallway screeched in a pitch that threatened the lives of their eardrums, which was odd, since it didn’t seem to have a mouth anywhere. None that James could see, anyway. It was just black matter that ebbed and flowed, until it didn’t. The “didn’t” part happened moments later. The matter slurped together and began to rise, forming arms and a featureless face in less than a minute. This time the screech had a mouth to come out of. A shallow, toothless maw in the smoothest head he’d ever seen.
“Get to the car!” Sam said.
“What about you?” Maggie stepped toward him, but he pointed toward the lobby.
“I’ll meet you there. Just run! Now!”
James didn’t argue. In fact, he was half way through the lobby before he’d even realized his legs were moving, before he’d realized his heart was bursting with adrenaline speed. He’d left everyone behind-- the weird guy in the lab coat, the strange girl, and Jared. James raced out the front doors of the museum toward the bustling traffic of downtown. He didn’t even look up at the skyscrapers standing in rows like soldiers. He just kept running.