The Offering By Angela Hunt

ASK THE AUTHOR: Angela HuntLATEST PROJECT: The Offering: A Novel (May 14).PUBLISHER: Howard Books.

What is The Offering about? 

The Offering is a story about a woman who agrees to become a gestational carrier in order to earn extra money for her family. But problems arise, so she has to make crucial decisions in the course of unfolding events. It’s a story about family. 

Where did you get the inspiration for this novel? 

My agent actually dropped the idea into my lap. Knowing that I have a keen interest in adoption and other life issues, she told me about a trend for military wives to serve as surrogate mothers.

What kind of character is the protagonist, Amanda? 

She’s a young mother, a wife and an often-bewildered member of an extended Cuban family. Since her father died years ago and her mother lives in another city, she’s grateful for her husband’s family’s support. 

How does her concept of family change in time?

She begins to truly appreciate family instead of taking them for granted. She has been “adopted” by her husband’s Cuban relatives, but she doesn’t really appreciate them until much later in the book. Finally she comes to understand that love, not blood, is what binds a family together. 

Amanda is sometimes influenced by her dreams. Why did you use this device? 

Dreams were perfect for this story because women really do have unusual dreams during pregnancy. The experience is common enough that many women dream the same sorts of dreams, so dreams were the perfect device to use in this story. 

What research did you conduct for this novel? 

Obviously, I had to do a lot of research on surrogacy, in vitro fertilization and Cuba. Fortunately, I’ve written other books that dealt with most of the elements of this story, so it was simply a matter of seeing how the landscape had changed, so to speak.

Did you draw on personal experience to write The Offering? 

I am an adoptive mother who waited years for her babies to arrive, so a lot of this story felt very personal to me. The emotions were there, I simply had to tap into them—and keep some tissues handy.

What else would you say to Christian retailers as they promote The Offering?

Surrogate mothers—more accurately referred to these days as “gestational carriers”—are increasingly more common. Unfortunately, many people who investigate surrogacy aren’t fully informed about the process, particularly in the area of what happens in in vitro fertilization [IVF]. I have no problem with IVF per se, but all too often too many eggs are harvested, too many are fertilized and too many are frozen. These are tiny human lives, and we cannot lightly dismiss them. I’m hoping that this story will help people think about all the repercussions involved in these procedures. My book club just finished reading this book, and I was amazed at how the book touched those ladies, particularly those who have had some experience with adoption.

Peretti: Love what you've done with the place but where is the old stuff

I recently received an EBook version of the Illusion by Frank Peretti from Howard Books to review.  I grew up on Peretti’s works.  I loved them all.  From This Present Darkness,   to House co-authored with Ted Dekker; they all were filled with a level of intrigue that kept me guessing.

I even read the Christian Living work of “No More Bullies” and heard him speak at a world view conference.  He has always captured my mind, and took me on a journey that left me thinking.

His most recent book is out Illusion!  Let me first give you the publisher’s words on this title:

Dane and Mandy, a popular magic act for forty years, are tragically separated by a car wreck that claims Mandy's life-or so everyone thinks. Even as Dane mourns and tries to rebuild his life without her, Mandy, supposedly dead, awakes in the present as the nineteen-year-old she was in 1970. Distraught and disoriented in what to her is the future, she is confined to a mental ward until she discovers a magical ability to pass invisibly through time and space to escape. Alone in a strange world, she uses her mysterious powers to eke out a living, performing magic on the streets and in a quaint coffee shop.

Hoping to discover an exciting new talent, Dane ventures into the coffee shop and is transfixed by the magic he sees, illusions that even he, a seasoned professional, cannot explain. But more than anything, he is emotionally devastated by this teenager who has never met him, doesn't know him, is certainly not in love with him, but is in every respect identical to the young beauty he first met and married some forty years earlier.

They begin a furtive relationship as mentor and protégée, but even as Dane tries to sort out who she really is and she tries to understand why she is drawn to him, they are watched by secretive interests who not only possess the answers to Mandy's powers and misplacement in time but also the roguish ability to decide what will become of her.

Frank Peretti has crafted a rich, rewarding story of love and life, loss and restoration, full of twists and mystery. Exceptionally well written, Illusion will soon prove another Peretti classic.

So now what did I think… I wasn’t sure what to think when I began reading this book.  Would it be the spiritual warfare version or the World View version seen in his Teen fiction works…?  I was captured by the story. 

In typical Peretti fashion I was not let down by the twists and the imaginative road that this book wove.  As far as were to put it… well it was a great story.  Yet not the redeeming message that I found so blatantly played out in even his books like Oath and Monster.

The final bit of the book is the author giving his take on what the story was an analogy of.  I have to fully admit, I didn’t see that when reading the book.  After the description of the meaning I got it… but it is almost like a joke: It’s not funny if you have to be explained the punch line.

Now do not get me wrong: I did fully enjoy this book.  The twists, the plot, the magic, the adventure it all captured me and took me to another world where my mind asked “What if.”  But the overtly Christian themes seemed to be hidden and veiled behind the words of the story.

So all in all a 3 ½ stars out of 5 in my book. 

Heart Mender by Andy Andrews

I flew into Grand Rapids, MI this week for a conference. I decided I would read a book since the flights were shorter and the Podcasts I have stored up wouldn't really come in handy due to the shorter times.

So I picked up an advanced Reader Copy of the Heart Mender that came out in May.
This book is by Andy Andrews who has written other works, one of which is the Noticer.

I didn't have any background on the book before hand, thinking it was just another great fiction read. This work blew me away and I couldn't put it down. In fact I had it finished before I even boarded my plane.

The Heart Mender is a story about Forgiveness. 2 lives from lives that lead them to hate what the other represents are brought together through a twist of fate. A True Joseph story such as Joseph of Egypt in the Bible. What man had intended for harm turned out to be for good.

this story is full of numerous references to Historical facts that leave you scratching your head at the end... was it true... Are they real?? Seriously!?!?!?!

As well, along the way you will see the story of forgiveness played out in the lives of the main characters.

It is funny how in our lives the SIMPLEST things, the things that Christ shock his head and said "You unbelieving generation... How many times must I tell you this...". Those simple things can be the hardest to grasp.

If you are suffering from un-forgiveness, maybe you feel you can't forgive a hurt or a wrong, maybe someone won't forgive you and you continually try to seek it to the point of obsession. This book is written for you.

Throughout time fiction has been used to tell stories which ultimately can change your life.

This book will do that for you!

Awakening: a Short Story INTRO

For years, my ADHD mind has created fiction in reality. Yet I rarely write them out, or when I do I bury them in binders that never see the light of day.
What you are about to read is one such story that recently came to me.
Yet this one I can't not share.
Please leave me comments as to your thoughts on this story, its storyline, its meaning, what gripped you the most, what items did you notice that were plays on reality in my own life (hint: names, places etc...) And also how you percieve the writting style.
A solid person can take advise well... I will pray to be that person.
Please let me know what you think.

Awakening: Part One

“Awakening”
By Curtis A. Cecil

Micah sat up with a scream. He was sweating, breathing hard and barely breathing at the same time. His immediate reaction was that the house was on fire as he thought he smelled something burning. Yet looking over at the clock which said 3:00 AM, he realized he had that dream again. What was it going to take to stop these nightmares?
They had been plaguing his dreams randomly for almost 3 years now but lately it seemed they had become more of a nightly occurrence. When the first nightmare came Micah thought it was from too many scary movies. After all a good fright from time to time was what he considered fun entertainment.
Micah considered himself as an expert on all movies whose titles included ‘Scary’, ‘Fright’, ‘Exorcism’, or other random words that are meant to be synonymous with fear. At first the movies scared him, and then little by little they didn’t have the same blood raising effect. So he had to start finding worse ones, bloodier, scarier and so on. Soon after Micah’s nightmares began.
At first they were just scenes from the movies, not that startling just enough to tick him off when he woke up. Then gradually the scenes from the movies included him as the person who was chopped to bits, hit by the bus, or had the chainsaw cut him in half. Lately in his dreams he had been the one using the ax, chainsaw etc… Micah’s wife hated these movies and refused to watch them or allow him to watch them when their 2 kids were around.
As Micah turned to lie back down for the night, he looked into the mirror that was facing out from the bathroom in their master bedroom. In the bottom right left hand corner a pair of red glowing spheres pierced through the dark room and hit his gut with fire. He sat there for almost 5 minutes watching as these glowing spherical cylinders stared at him motionless. Just when he decided it was a reflection of the alarm clock, the glow disappeared and then reappeared as if they were a set of blinking eyes.
Micah sat up straight in bed and then froze as the glowing eyes moved up a foot on the mirror and kept staring at this frozen human on the bed. After another 5 minutes of staring at the mirror and watching these eyes, as they were, blinking, Micah got up and walked towards the bathroom mirror. His heart raced, his hands sweating, his blood grew cold in his veins.
“Hello Micah”, sounded a deep voice from the mirror as these eyes relocated to the top corner of the mirror. The voice sounded southing and sinister in the same breath. Micah, eyes now accustom to the dark, could finally see the creature in the mirror that was talking to him. This creature appeared to be standing 10 feet behind where the mirror was attached to the wall staring at Micah. “Do you know who I am?”

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All items contained in this story are the property of the Author and can not be copied in any form without written permission. Copyright May 2008 by Curtis Cecil

Awakening: Part Two

“I…uh…I…” stammered Micah in a shocked frozen tone, unable to get his brain to think or reason. “I am Domhnall Dubh.” Micah continued to blink for that was the only thing he could control at that moment. Micah stared at the mirror and took in the vision of this creature. It stood at least 10 feet high with a body that had to be at least 12 feet tall if it stood completely straight up. Yet by looking at it Micah could see that it was unable to stand completely erect. Dubh’s body had a head and legs like a goat, yet horns on his head like an OX. His face was similar to a man’s, and his hands and fingers like branches of a vine. His skin looked to Micah as if it were bark, a hairy, flaky, yet hard bark of an oak tree.
“You know me don’t you mortal? I can see it in your eyes. Yet you are confused,” said Dubh. “You invited me here. You worshiped me and called me to entertain you. Are you entertained yet?”
“I don’t know you” these first words came flushing out of Micah’s mouth and even startled him that he found his tongue again. “I don’t know you.” He yelled again, more just to confirm that it was his voice he was hearing.
“Oh but you do” stated a smiling Dubh. “I am that tingle up your spine when you are scared. I am that thing that makes you startle. I am Fear, and I am Pleasure. I came by your invitation and have enjoyed my dwellings for these past years.”
A realization swept over Micah that he was no longer standing in the bathroom staring through the mirror at this creature but actually transported into the very presence of it. He glanced around in a panic looking for just how he got there and a way to get back.
“Just realized how far you have gone I see.” The creature said in a playful and mocking tone. “You humans are all alike. Never realizing what is going on until it is too late. Never looking at the signs all around you until it is too late.” And with that thought a very sinister glare lit up the creature’s evil face. “You are mine now. With each movie you sat through that scared you, you were mine. With each time you gave in to that fear that the evil was real, you were mine. I am Fear. Are you entertained now?”
With that this creature reached down and with fingers that now no longer appeared as branches but as thin razor sharp spears and grabbed hold of Micah. He began to scream as the pain and darkness pierced his body, feeling the heat sear his flesh and begin to boil his blood. All the while in his ears laughter so sinister and screeching pierced his ears and made them begin to bleed. He found that he was screaming now.

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All items contained in this story are the property of the Author and can not be copied in any form without written permission. Copyright May 2008 by Curtis Cecil

Awakening: Part Three

I was screaming? I….I was screaming. My wife sitting in the bed beside me was shaking me fiercely and trying to wake me from my dementia. I sat up at the sound of my own screaming. Where was I? It took me a minute to realize, who I was: William Trevor, husband and father of only 1. I looked over at the clock, 3:00 AM.
Then the startling facts hit me; instantly I realized that I was Micah, in my dream, no in my nightmare. I found myself awakened to a new evil. Fear was his name.
I leaped out of bed as if the house was on fire, and ran a sprint through the house turning on every light. Then satisfied that not a single bulb remained unlit, I stood in the middle of the living room panting, hoping the fear would now subside. Yet it didn’t. It gripped me stronger. The lights shown a faint yellow dim light all through the house, but yet the corners still held shadows. Shadows that I could hearing calling my name…
Finally I was hit with the shock of reality. I was standing in the middle of the living room, talking to myself while my wife and child stared at this newly formed mad man in their house afraid and not knowing whether to calm me down or call the mental hospital. When I saw the fear that gripped their faces I finally calmed myself. “Sorry. I know I must have given you an awful fright. It was just a bad dream, nothing more. Go back to bed.” And with that I began to turn the lights off one at a time. With each light whose yellow faint light was snuffed out by my turning of the switch, my flesh would crawl. I felt the darkness closing in on me, yet trying to convince myself it was all a bad dream and I was being childish, I pushed on turning each light off…
When back in bed I lay on my back staring at the ceiling. My wife tried to get some faint understanding of what happened from me but all I could shudder was “It was just a bad dream”. It was my nightmare, my demon; she shouldn’t have to help me with this. And within a few short minutes her questions stopped as sleep overcame her once more. Yet I would not be so lucky. Sleep would not find me again that night, as each shadow, each corner, seemed to hold the distinct sulfuric smell of that creature once more.


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All items contained in this story are the property of the Author and can not be copied in any form without written permission. Copyright May 2008 by Curtis Cecil

Awakening: Part Four

“Head’s up” yelled Stan. “What?” Micah yelled back just as a bat hit him square in the face. The muffled expletives were not audible for Stan to hear but he found amusement in them nonetheless. Turning Stan looked at Micah and said “I said ‘Head’s up’. Just thought I’d warn you of the bat that was coming directly at you so you could duck. Guess I was too late!” He laughed.
Stan was Micah’s best friend and closest colleague. Sturand was his birth name but for obvious reasons very few knew him by anything other than Stan. They had decided to spend the weekend away from family, civilization, or anything else doing what they enjoyed: Caving! Finding some hole in the middle of a cave floor, wall, ceiling anywhere and finding out what adventure might overtake them.
They had been traveling through this cave system for almost a year and still were finding new places every time. One time when they thought they had been farther than anyone ever could possibly have been Stan found some carvings on a rock. Henry 1815 was written on it. Probably from some runaway slave who had been hiding out from his master in this cave. How he had made it this far in the cave through the crawl spaces and cramped places with a torch as his only guide was beyond their imagination. Micah and Stan had modern technology, halogen lamps, and MAG lights yet still had a tough traverse of the caves.
This current trip they had found a rock that looked like a mushroom coming out of the side of the wall. It was possibly 200 feet tall and 75 feet wide. Water was coming in from the ceiling and falling down over this mushroom rock waterfall. There was a spot where they went back under the waterfall and just sat, watching peacefully as the water fell off the stone. So many wonders were to be seen in this cave.
After a few hours the pair turned to go. There was a dry spot in the cave they wanted to get to so as to un-pack their gear, eat and drink a bit and then sleep some before returning to reality the next day.
It took them almost an hour to get to the look out point. It was a flat spot next to a large drop that went straight down about 75 feet to the floor beneath where a small stream wove through the underbelly of the cave. They would always light a few candles to illuminate the area while they ate and then sleep for a while.
After a fine dinner of Beef Jerky and some water, they pulled out their thermal blankets and laid down using their backpacks as pillows. Sleep came fast for both due to their 14 hours of climbing that day.
Suddenly Micah woke up. Something had aroused him from his deep sleep. Was that a voice? He sat quickly trying to look around but the candles had all burnt out. He hit the button on his watch; his face was hit by its green luminous glow. When his eyes finally adjusted to this bright accosting of light, he saw the time 3:00 AM. His stomach immediately knotted

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All items contained in this story are the property of the Author and can not be copied in any form without written permission. Copyright May 2008 by Curtis Cecil

Awakening: Part Five

There seemed to be voices floating up at him from the stream below them. He looked over to see if Stan had been awakened and saw him sound asleep. Then he heard it again. It was his name. Someone was calling to him and then laughing. Micah was frozen in place when suddenly a head began to rise up over the edge of the cliff. It was the creature but larger this time; its eyes sizably larger painting the entire room with their red glow. A scream stuck in Micah’s throat as he saw Domhnall Dubh, the creature of his nightmares. “I have come for you” the creature cried and instantly Micah heard not just one but hundreds of voices calling my name. The creature gripped Micah in his massive hands and holding him up above his head let him drop. Micah’s scream filled his lungs. I was frozen, he was scared… “Micah.” The stream called. “Micah… Micah….Mic… Wil… Will… William…”
“William” I awoke with a jerk as if I had fallen and just hit the floor. My wife was shaking me and yelling my name with a frightened look on her face. “William wake up!” I sat up and again felt the beads of sweat dripping from my forehead. “William are you okay?” she said to me in less of a scream but still filled with panic.
“I’m fine. Just a bad dream” I said in as calm a manner as I could muster even though I knew my entire body was shacking. I looked around the room waiting to see the eyes of the creature, but nothing was out of place. This was my room, my home… my eyes fell on the alarm clock. 3:00 A.M. I should have known.
“That was not just a dream. This nightmare must mean something.” My wife has a knack of not giving in. So finally after 30 minutes I realized that even though I knew sleep was futile again for me that she wouldn’t rest till I told her my dream. So I slowly began to tell her what I could remember from these strange dreams.
After I had finished she looked at me quizzically, “So in the dream you are Micah, but yet you are you at the same time? And this creature seems to be after you… I mean Micah… I guess I mean you?” “That is about it in a nut shell. Some stupid childish nightmare is all it is.” I said trying to down play this as much as possible in order to convince myself as much as calm her down. She didn’t know what to say or even think. I finally coaxed her into sleeping about 4:15 AM.
That night I finally fell asleep about the time I saw the sun coming up. After about an hour or so I awoke to see that my wife had already slipped from the bedroom. As I walked into the kitchen I saw her with her church directory on the table and a phone sitting next to it. “You didn’t?” I yelled at her accusingly. “I just thought that Pastor Ron would know what to do.” She calmly told me. “He says that it sounds like some sort of demonic oppression. The name you said this creature went by sounded really familiar to him as well. He wants to talk to you about it.”
“I will not setting one foot in that church; and your pastor better not even think of coming over here.” I was dead set against this foolishness. I didn’t mind it much when Shelly told me she was going to start taking our son to church; I just thought it would last a short while. Then when she told me she had been reborn or some stupid saying like those church people use to confuse us ‘non-churched’ and make us feel dumb, I was irate. But I let her keep going as it didn’t effect me none. If she wanted to keep a crutch, I’d let her.
“There is no way I am talking to your pastor.” I said again to rub it in. After an hour of lecturing etc... I was about ready to do anything I could to get her to shut up. “Fine! Call a priest, but I refuse to let your pastor in here.” I grabbed a phone book and found quickly a church that was near our house. I handed it to my wife and made her call. The secretary who answered told my wife in a ‘boy aren’t you stupid’ tone that local priests didn’t do exorcisms but that they had a traveling priest who did them for a small donation to the church. Just another get rich scheme by the church if you ask me, but she made the appointment for later that night as this priest just happened to be within 50 miles that day.
The priest arrived at the house that night about 7:00. We had sent our son to spend the night at a friend’s house. “Do you have your donation to the church for me” were the first words out of his mouth. “Wonderful.” He said as we handed him the check. “Now do you have a bathroom I can use before we begin?” I wanted to say something smart but held my tongue under the very piercing glance from my wife. “Down the hall, 2nd door on the left.”
The priest went down the hall and closed the door. When he returned he smiled a yellow stained grin that made me sick. Let us begin. After 2 hours of chanting in Latin and spreading water all over the furniture and in each room on the doors etc… he turned to us and said “Well, that ought to do it.” “That’s it?” I protested. “I thought the roof would begin to breathe up and down and that this dark creature would inhabit my wife making her talk like Macy Grey, gravely and hoarse. What a jip.”
With that my wife slugged me in the back of the head. “Thank you father for all of your help,” She said and took him to the door.
“You know you can be such a jerk sometimes.” Was all she said as she slammed the door to our bedroom and left me in the living room. I went to knock on the door and was greeted by a pillow a blanket and another slam. I could tell that the couch was my domain that night.


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All items contained in this story are the property of the Author and can not be copied in any form without written permission. Copyright May 2008 by Curtis Cecil

Awakening: Part Six

Laughter filled my ears. I sat straight up and felt the couch spring poke me in the rear at the same time. I stared at the clock it was 3:00 am. Where was I? Was this a nightmare and I was Micah again? Or was the creature visiting me in person for the first time? My eyes were still trying to adjust to the room to find the source of the laughter, but I already knew it in my stomach. The burning sulfur smell had hit me as soon as I awoke. Slowly the eyes came out of the corner of the room moving closer to me. The laughter getting louder with each step the creature took.
“Thank you for my bath today. It was so refreshing” He mocked. “You humans are so funny. You think that stupid priest could help you? No human can help you.” The creature said with a sinister grin on his lips. “Let me tell you about your hero priest. You know that trip to the bathroom he took; it was because he forgot to bring his so called ‘holy water’ so he took some from your toilet stool instead. So if you need any more ‘holy water’ go get it and see if I melt in fear.” The creatures laugh was getting more sinister and evil by the second. “Oh, but make sure it isn’t yellow!” With that he reared his head up with a hideous laughter.
“What do you want?” I yelled at him through his laughter. “I came to tell you that your words and plans are meaningless. You are mine. I own you. I also wanted to tell you about your little savior priest. He was so full of his own religion and pompous attitude he can’t even save a drowning cat. Why did you even bother? You hate his kind just like I do. We are alike.” He said with a quite and friendly looking glance at me.
“We are far from alike.” I yelled wanting to jab at him with anything that might pierce through his bark like skin and rid me of him.
“Oh, that is what you think… You hate those religious fanatics and you love me, for I am FEAR!” He said and then vanished with a haunting laugh.
I sat still for an hour thinking that if I moved he would show up again like the rabbit that haunted Alice; Eyes opening and teeth staring at me ready to devour me at any second. I started thinking about what the creature had said. I did enjoy being entertained by a scary movie, but I didn’t like this feeling of constant fear. But he was right about those religious nuts. I hated them. I’d seen too many of them in my life; their noses in the air and their Bibles in their hands. When I had been younger my mother and I lived 10 blocks away from one of their preacher colleges. She went to them more than once asking for help with bills that she couldn’t afford since my father left us. But no one would listen. They all said “We’ll pray for you.” So she worked 3 jobs and was never home. Finally one day she drove into the path of an oncoming semi. The police said she fell asleep, but I know better. She hated living. She hated life and decided that hitting that ultimate delete key was the best plan.
The next morning the door bell rang. It was Pastor Ron from Family Church of Johnson Center. “Good morning William. Hope you and Shelly are well. I was just coming over to say hello.” “Whatever, you are here because she called you about my dreams” I interjected. “Well, you could say that I am concerned and so is Shelly that you are having nightmares that won’t go away. They are affecting your sleep, your job, your family and other things. Don’t you think you should try to take care of this situation?”
“I did try. I called one of your colleagues and he didn’t do a thing. Sprayed some toilet water all over the house and called it cured. Shelly did you ever check the fine silver; he may have helped himself for the building fund.” I threw the last one in to irritate this new want to be hero.

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All items contained in this story are the property of the Author and can not be copied in any form without written permission. Copyright May 2008 by Curtis Cecil

Awakening: Part Seven

“William, your dreams can have many meanings. I am not here to help you. In fact I was just hoping you would share with me your dreams as I am writing a book on dreams and possibly their meanings too. Your’s might be included in the book if you wanted.” Now that caught my attention. I mean, who wouldn’t want their story told to thousands and even millions. So with willing reluctance I agreed.
After 2 hours and a pitcher of lemon aid, I finished, leaned back in the chair and said “So… Sure blows your mind doesn’t it?” Pastor Ron just stared at his cup as if in deep thought. After a long awkward silence he looked up at me with moist eyes.
“You have been through a lot of pain in your life. I am sorry that you had to endure that. I don’t want to try and dissect your dreams or give a patent answer that will be suppose to fix all of your answers. But let me say this. You and I are a lot alike. I don’t believe in religion either.” I had been leaning my chair back on the hind 2 legs but with that statement all 4 legs of the chair hit the ground with a thud. “That is right.” The pastor continued. “I said I don’t believe in religion either. We are in agreement on that one fact. Religion is full of empty promises, water that doesn’t work to clean us, and arrogant self righteousness.
“I believe in a relationship, a friendship with the one who can help. His name is Jesus. Jesus has been there for me when ever I faced trials or fears in my life.” For the next hour Ron sat there telling me about how he and this Jesus had a personal relationship. He talked to him, and knew he was there. I had never heard anyone so intimate with something they couldn’t see. Finally he pushed his chair back and stood.
“William I can’t tell you that everything will be okay tonight and tomorrow night or every night after that. I can’t tell you that you won’t be hurt, or that you won’t be afraid. But I can tell you that when you are hurt or afraid you can call on Jesus who will be with you. Think about that and when you are ready I will be glad to talk more about it.” With that he walked towards the door. Just as he was stepping out the door he turned to me “Oh by the way, I hear you like to work on cars as a hobby? We have a group of guys who meet together and work on an old ’65 Shelby. If you’re interested we meet at the Hill Top for Breakfast at 6:00 on Saturdays. Maybe we will see you then.” “Maybe you will. Thanks” I said as he left and I closed the door.
I stood at the door to the house for what felt like hours. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I felt like I had a new perspective on life; A new understanding of the world. I went to find Shelly. The final room I came to was the bedroom where I found her kneeling by the bed with the Bible open in front of her. Her smooth lips were moving but I couldn’t hear anything coming out of them. Generally when I caught her like this I enjoyed making fun of her, but this time I felt like she was doing a very important thing. Finally I stepped over to the bed and sat down. She, a few seconds later, upon finishing her prayer, looked up at me and smiled. She said, “I want to read you a verse that I just felt led to tell you it is found in 2 Timothy 1:7 ‘For God has given us a spirit not of Fear, but of power and love and self-control.” With that I couldn’t help but begin to cry. I don’t know if it was from the present stress or the pastor’s passion, or my wife’s love? But I felt years of memories of hate, hurt, and fears washing away with each tear. We sat for 15 minutes in each others grasp and I finally looked down at her and said, “I want to know this Jesus the way you and Pastor Ron do. Can you help me?” And with that we knelt together and prayed. I prayed that Jesus would help me, love me, need me, and use me; To take all of my old life away from me and help me be new.

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All items contained in this story are the property of the Author and can not be copied in any form without written permission. Copyright May 2008 by Curtis Cecil

Awakening: Part Eight

The buzzer on the alarm went off; I looked at the clock and saw 3:00 am. I jumped out of my bed and walked the house; Calling on this creature to show himself again. “Come on you coward. You Fear. Show yourself to me…” Finally, I heard a reply. “Since when do you call me? Here I have been the one calling you. Have you decided that we aren’t that much different now?” Yet before the words could fully leave the creatures mouth I saw FEAR hit his eyes when as he saw what I held in my hand; A Bible. He tried to cover it up with a laugh, “A Bible, what are you going to read me to a laughing stupor?”
“No. But I am going to read.” I then repeated the verse my wife had read. “Fear? I am Fear, why read me such a ridiculous verse.” The creature bellowed with laughter. “I could have told you that I wasn’t from a god. I am a god.” He quivered.
“Oh, I didn’t read it for you. I read it for me.” I said with renewed strength. “I am here to do what the priest couldn’t, but not with water or even words from a book. I summoned you here to tell you out of my heart, just one small phrase, no just one name.” I could see recognition hitting his eyes.
“I am Micah of my dreams. Yet, I promise you that he was my old self, a fearful man playing with a fire he didn’t know or understand. I am William and I am filled with a new strength that gives me the power and knowledge to stand up against you. Domhnall Dubh as you called yourself in one of my dreams. That was the name that people of ancient called you. Today we call you the Devil. I am here to tell you that you will plague me no longer. I will not let you.”
With that a softer, yet still strong nervous laugh escaped from his mouth. “You think I am just going to leave you alone because you said pretty please. Or that you learned that Domhnall Dubh was what the ancient Scotts called me. Let me tell you something…”
“NO!” I shouted. “Let me tell you. You have no power over me, or my family. I command you IN THE NAME OF JESUS leave this house.”
In a flash that seemed to last hours, I heard the scream that rose up from the very depths of hell screaming, not in hate but in shear anguish and pain at those words. I yelled them again “IN THE NAME OF JESUS LEAVE!”
In an instance, he was gone. Never again have I dreamed of myself as Micah. Never again have I felt the eyes staring at me, or awakened to those evil red spheres glaring at me. From time to time though when we have moved to new towns and visited friend’s homes I have sensed the slight feeling of his presence; I have smelt the slight smell of burning sulfur.
It scares me when I hear of others who I know and care for who are playing with the creature’s fires. Fear, Pleasure and Desire are all names he goes by. Yet the name all know him by after they meet him is Regret.
How I wish I could share with everyone I meet all my nightmares and my AWAKENING!

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All items contained in this story are the property of the Author and can not be copied in any form without written permission. Copyright May 2008 by Curtis Cecil