Julie managed to shut off the alarm before it woke Michael. After showering and getting dressed, she fussed with her hair until it was just right. She tried three shades of lipstick before settling on just the perfect one. In her large walk-in closet, she accessorized the colorful dress from India with the perfect bangles and sandals. After looking through her earrings twice, she settled on a shimmering yellow pair. She looked in the mirror—disappointed.
She grabbed her large green designer bag and loaded it with a change of underwear, her makeup bag, hand sanitizer, and her migraine medicine. I’ll just buy something to wear tomorrow so I don’t have to take a suitcase.
I love this bag. She ran her hands over the soft leather. It’s big enough to hold everything. She put the strap over her shoulder and reexamined herself in the mirror. Perfect. She headed to Logan’s room.
The sight of her sleeping son brought last night’s dream to the surface. Logan and I homeless, how strange. Aunt Bea! Oh, my gosh! She shook her head and immediately dismissed it. She smoothed out his cowboy comforter and sat beside him. He awoke, but was still groggy. She kissed him several times and he rolled over and dozed.
She stood up and caught her reflection in his full-length mirror. She paused and analyzed. After fluffing her hair again, she called for a cab.
I think I’ll take the paper to read on the train. Going down the front stairs, she heard a squeak so faint she couldn’t tell its origin. She paused to listen. There it is again. Julie followed the stepping stone path around her English country garden. Tucked between a coiled garden hose and an empty terra cotta pot was a trembling baby bird.
“You poor thing. How in the world? There’s not even a tree close.” She dropped to her knees. “Well, we can’t let Aunt Bea find you, and I have to get you before Patchwork does. You’re a little robin, aren’t you?” Julie scooped up the little bird. “I’ll take care of you; you’ll be OK.”
She hurried to her parlor. In the corner was an elaborate Victorian birdcage on an ornate wire stand. Julie hesitated, then removed the skillfully arranged silk flowers stem by stem from the cage. I guess I can re-do these when I get back.
In a short time the bird was resting in a tissue-lined Lennox cereal bowl in the birdcage, which was now resettled in the kitchen. After printing the results of a quick Internet search on caring for baby birds, she wrote a note for Michael and Logan with the phone number for the nearest wildlife rehab center.
“You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t hurt you. Here’s something for you to eat and drink.” She sat a little water and some moist cat food in the cage. “I can’t stay and take care of you, but I promise you’ll be OK.” She washed her hands thoroughly. As she was sanitizing the counter closest to the cage, the cabbie honked.
This traffic is unbearable, she thought as they waited on a red light. I should have left earlier. Dad hates to be kept waiting. I don’t need a lecture before breakfast, or during, for that matter. I’ve had enough for one lifetime.
She sighed and distracted herself by stroking the soft leather of her green designer bag, her favorite bag.
Soft as butter. It’s perfect. She stopped to admire her manicure as she spread her fingers then turned her attention to the yellow and green colors in her Indian dress and the sparkling bangles. Looking good, Julie. You’re looking really good today.
After paying the driver, Julie took several deep breaths and walked to the restaurant. Her dad’s car was there, and she checked her watch again to make sure she wasn’t late. You can do this, Julie. You can. She checked her reflection in the window before grabbing the brass handle and swinging open the restaurant door.
Forty minutes later, Julie slunk from the restaurant and crossed the street to the train station.
“The man is incapable of saying anything kind. He never likes what I wear! He didn’t even like my bag!” She gritted her teeth in frustration.
As she arrived on the empty platform, the train was pulling slowly from the station. The conductor stood on the steps of the passenger loading platform and called out, “Julie, quick.” He held out his hand as the train lurched forward.
I must be late! Without stopping to think why this man would know her name, she ran and he pulled her up.
“Good show,” said the distinguished gentleman as he tipped his bowler hat with a flourish and bowed slightly. He pulled out his pocket watch and said, “You’re right on time.”
He’s impeccably dressed in that white suit, thought Julie.
“My name is Mr. Dove, and it is my pleasure to serve you on your special journey today.”
“I like your accent. Australian?”
“Heavens no. British.” He held open the door and led her through several deserted cars.
Not many people going to New York today, thought Julie.
“The dining car has been specially prepared, and your party is waiting for you,” he said. “Please enjoy.”
“My party?” Before she could stop him, he was gone. She looked around at the drab interior. I think it’s time for an update.
One lone man sat in the corner booth. The table was covered in white linen. There was an abundance of food. Three slender burgundy tapers burned in an ornate gold holder.
He motioned to her. Her first response was to immediately decline. Sure, I’ll go sit with some stranger on a deserted train. I don’t think so. She shook her head and turned to go. But without knowing why, she turned back. He motioned toward the empty seat again. She felt drawn. How strange. It just feels like I need to be here. Before she realized it, she was walking. He smiled as she approached. She laid her green purse in the booth and slid in opposite him.
What’s all this food? Crab legs with butter, mu shu pork, spring rolls, a beautiful garden salad, sliced nectarines, fresh strawberries, blackberry cobbler with vanilla ice cream. My favorite foods! She looked up for the first time and stammered, “H-how could you know this? How?” He smiled as he picked up a large glass pitcher and poured.
Apricot nectar?
She stared at the pitcher containing her favorite drink. “How do you know me? I demand you tell me who you are!” She hit her fist on the table for emphasis. She felt exposed, and she didn’t like it, but she did not feel endangered. Maybe I should just leave, now. But something about the situation was too intriguing.
Her brow furrowed. Her brain scanned and discarded possible scenarios.
“I know! Michael set this up as a joke, right?”
The dark-skinned man with the shoulder-length brown hair, wearing a white robe, smiled the most welcoming smile she’d ever seen. When she looked into His eyes, she felt a new, pure, invigorating sensation—perfect love. It seemed to radiate into every cell. She not only felt disarmed, she felt captivated. So peaceful.
Julie, I not only know everything about you, but I created you. My Father and I planned when you were to be born before We created the world.1 I’ve walked down the corridor of your life and seen the very end. Every day of your life is recorded in your heavenly book.
When He spoke her name, she recognized Him. She stared in unbelief. This can’t be happening. At first she thought her heart might stop beating. Then another overwhelming feeling of being loved—truly loved—deeply and fully engulfed her.
“Jesus?”
He smiled warmly and spoke, 103,542.
She didn’t understand and continued staring as she reveled in the incredible feeling.
Of course, after you brush, you’ll be down to 103,401.
She still didn’t understand and remained quiet, choosing to bask in the overwhelming feeling of being perfectly loved.
He smiled. Haven’t you read in My Word that I know the exact number of hairs on your head?
“Yes, but I thought that was just….” her voice trailed off.
You thought that was just something someone wrote. Well, it is. Matthew wrote it under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and I promise you, My Word is life and truth.2
She glanced out the window, amazed that each time He spoke, she heard thunder and saw flashes of lightning.
Julie, My Word says that thunder and lightning emanate from My Father’s throne,3 and I assure you, every word is the truth. He paused, and the thunder and lightning did, too.
“How? Why can I see You?”
Let’s just say I toned Myself down today. If I appeared in My radiant splendor and matchless glory, you, and everything else, would be consumed. But, Julie, I’m really with you every minute of every day.
He smiled and put His hand on top of hers. She saw the nail scar and was overwhelmed again by another wave of His love for her. It burned like a warm ember in her chest.
I have a favor to ask of you, but your shopping stop is coming up.
“NO,” she blurted and grabbed His hand in hers. “No shopping today.”
No shopping today?
“No, I want to stay.”
If the things you strive for in this world—money, recognition, houses, or clothes, He said with a grin, don’t really satisfy, what does that mean?
She shrugged and made a questioning gesture, still clasping His hand and feeling totally enveloped in warmth.
It means, My dear one, that you were created for a different world—for My heavenly Kingdom. I planted the seeds of longing for a perfect world inside you. The eternity in Me calls to the eternity in you so you desire to be loved unconditionally. But no person on Earth can do that. Only I can love you perfectly.
I see your wounded heart, mishandled by your father.
Julie bristled. “What’s he got to do with anything?”
Julie, I’m not like your dad.
Julie could see something like a movie of herself from the past. She watched as little nine-year-old Julie had dressed herself and walked through the living room headed toward the bus stop. Her dad was in one of his moods.
As a little girl you tried so hard, but the praise and love that you needed never came. It wasn’t you, Julie. He was hurting from your mom’s death.
“You were supposed to clean this place up last night.”
“I had home—”
“And what do you think you’re wearing? Those don’t match.” She could feel her lower lip start to quiver.
“My clothes are dirty.”
“Those don’t match. You look like Bozo, the clown! Everyone’s going to laugh at you, and for good reason.”
Little Julie hid in the coat closet, arms wrapped around her knees, rocking and sobbing in the dark.
Outside the coat closet her father pounded his palm against his forehead, then reached for the doorknob—but lost his nerve.
But it crushed you, and inside you’re still that little girl just trying to do something right—anything, just to prove your worth.
She nodded in agreement as tears welled in her eyes.
“It drives me.”
Since you can’t be perfect, you’ve tried to numb that heart pain by acquiring possessions, and when the newness wears off, you do it all again. I call it the “do-it-wrong-harder principle.” But these counterfeits can’t fill your longings either. Competing, scrapping, posturing for status, trying to impress are all like fighting for a first class cabin—on the Titanic. This whole world is going down, and the things that people strive and even kill for are going down with it.
I’m here today, Julie, to tell you that your life is a vapor.4 It’s like the flowers of the field, blooming today, faded and gone tomorrow.5 He opened His hand to reveal a beautiful pink tropical flower, and she watched as it wilted, turned brown, shriveled, and turned to dust, which settled gently on the tablecloth. He held out His empty palm for her to see.
Gone. Decades will hurry by. You will turn around a few more times, and your grandchildren will be weeping by your casket. I’m offering you a choice— live unsatisfied with the counterfeits you long for today or learn to live for My eternal Kingdom. When you leave here, you can bring nothing of this world along. Not your Victorian house that you traded 18 months of your life to restore, nor the antiques in it.
One day I will come in the sky to gather My own, and I will tear the veil that separates time and eternity. The veil that separates My eternal home from this temporary Titanic ship you’re journeying on. You will live forever, Julie; it’s just a question of where.
“I prayed in Sunday school for You to save me when I was seven.”
I heard that prayer, but you can’t call Me Savior and not call Me Lord.
She looked away. “I can’t be good enough. I’ve tried,” her voice dropped, “and I’ve tried again. Every day and I just can’t….” She ran her finger absentmindedly through the flower dust.
No, you can’t be perfect. You’d have to be 100 percent good 100 percent of the time. I’m the only one who did that.
She sighed. As He revealed His holiness and a snippet of His pure shining glory, she became aware of her sinfulness in a way she had never experienced. She felt crushed under a great weight. She turned from Him, compelled to slink away in shame.
Wait, Julie. That’s why I left Heaven, put on a human body, and died for your sins. I give forgiveness and salvation to those who trust Me as a free gift. Obedience, through My grace, is your gratitude gift back to Me.
“I told you, I can’t. I, I hate myself sometimes….” A tear rolled down her face. He gently wiped it away with a nail-pierced hand.
I know, Julie, He said with great kindness. It pains Me because you hate yourself all the time. You’ve taken on the goal of perfection, and you’re miserable because you can’t attain it. When it’s seems almost within reach, it slips away again, leaving you feeling like a failure.
I want to teach you the difference between rebellion and immaturity. On the outside, they look the same, but inwardly they are very different. I’ll show you.
They are standing in a pigpen in front of an old red barn. Julie looks around in surprise and then tries to make sure she doesn’t get mud on her sandals. A pig and a lamb are in the mud hole.
Julie, what do you see?
“Um, a pig and a lamb in the mud?”
Jesus waded into the mud, dirtying His hands and garment, and gathered the lamb in His arms, stroking it gently.
The pig and the lamb both ended up in the mud, but the lamb wants to get out, and the pig is planning his next mud bath. You can’t see the heart like I can.
He brings the lamb to her; she pets its head, being careful not to dirty her hands.
“Hi, little one.”
As He speaks He rubs His nail-pierced hand over the muddied wool and it becomes white as snow.
My darling Julie, you call yourself rebellious, but I see you as immature. I’m overwhelmed with love and enjoyment toward the unattaining yet sincere believer. My heart is also overwhelmed with love toward the rebellious. I love them, but I can’t enjoy them. They cause Me great grief because their choices lead to their destruction. As deeply as I love, so deeply do I grieve their unnecessary demise.
He puts the lamb down and Julie strokes it.
But, my darling Julie, He paused to look into her eyes, you call yourself rebellious. I see you as immature, but lovely.6 In your immaturity, you’ll end up back in the mud hundreds of times, but I made provision for your sin when I died on the cross. I took your punishment as if it was My own. Accept My gifts of forgiveness, mercy, salvation, and grace that I long to give you in exchange for your failures. Come to Me, confess your sins, and I will forgive you. I will help pull you from the mud and clean you up.
“I want to run and hide when I… choose the mud.” She couldn’t meet His gaze and glanced at the ground.
Look at Me, Julie. I want to see your beautiful face. That is the biggest lie of My enemy. He wants to destroy you by keeping you away from Me. His voice whispers shame and lies, saying that you can’t come to Me until you’re perfect. The opposite is true; you can’t get free of your sin until you come to Me.
When you are overcome by sin, run, jump on My lap, and say, “Smother me with Your love.” Coming to Me for forgiveness and power is the only way you’ll ever get free. Wallowing in shame and avoiding Me only sinks you deeper in the mud.
“But there are areas in my life where I can’t get free.” Stress lines formed on her brow. “I’m a mess. How can You love me?”
Julie, you don’t ever have to twist My arm to get Me to care. I love you because I am love, not because you are worthy. I love you because I can’t not love you. Love is My nature. It’s who I am. All My children are My favorite.
If you spent the rest of your days as a shopping addict, I’d never love you any less. My love is unconditional. It has nothing to do with your performance and everything to do with Me.
“I just can’t believe it. But I want to…” she said with a weak smile.
He holds out a bottle with a rubber nipple.
Would you like to feed My lamb? Julie smiles as the lamb enthusiastically drinks. She gently strokes it.
You must renew your mind to replace the lies you believe by reading truth in My Word. Then to get knowledge from your head, He places His hand over His heart, down to where you believe, it must pass between your lips. Confess this truth over your life, frequently and out loud, to break the lies’ stronghold.
Pray daily, ask Me to tell you what I think about you. Right now, you spend more time in deception, listening to My enemy’s accusations that say My love is weak, conditional, and like the love of people who have wounded you. Run to Me in your brokenness and failure. I promise I will never turn you away.
The corners of her mouth curled slightly as she tried to take in this wonderful, new information.
You think that because you just discovered a new place of darkness in your heart that I am also disgusted, because I just discovered it, too. But remember, I saw your whole life, each bad choice you would make, and I still chose you. I know all your future failures that you aren’t even aware of. And I still love you. You can’t shock Me. As long as you ask for forgiveness and help, we’ll get out of every mud hole you stumble into.
And as you call to Me in your failure, you’ll learn I’m not like your earthly father. He lacks the ability to encourage and applaud you. His brokenness left you believing the lie that you could never measure up.
Julie, I’m not your opponent. I’m your biggest fan. As you learn more about Me, you’ll learn to trust and love Me. I give you My righteousness as a gift, and you don’t have to perform to get Me to love you.
Wouldn’t you rather go for a walk with Me in the cool of the evening than knock yourself out trying to impress Me with your “good works”?
She again saw His beautiful nail prints as she placed her hands on His. She inhaled deeply as she felt the weight lift.
“Thank You, Lord.”
You are so welcome. I’d die all over again, even if it were only for you. A huge crack of lightning hit the weather vane on the barn and she jumped.
I really meant that. They both laughed.
Back on the train when they quit laughing, He picked up a dish and offered it to her. Let’s eat dessert first! Blackberry cobbler, extra blackberries, thickened with tapioca, not flour. Thin crust and vanilla ice cream.
“My favorite desert as a child. It’s been here for an hour, and the ice cream isn’t even melted.”
You don’t like it melted.
She smiled, and they ate and talked and laughed as thunder and lightning ebbed and flowed. After she tried a little from each dish and drank three glasses of apricot nectar, Jesus said, Julie, it’s almost time for you to leave.
“No, Lord, no!” she grabbed His hands. A stricken look crossed her face.
“No, Lord,” is the most common oxymoron I hear. I can be your Lord, or you can tell Me no, but it can’t be both.
“Forgive me—Lord. Now that I’ve found You, I just never want to leave You.”
I understand, but you didn’t find Me, Julie. I found you. I’ve pursued you all your life, and I’ll never stop. I am always with you.7 I promised that in My Word. You just can’t see Me like I’ve allowed you to now. I opened your spiritual eyes for a brief moment, but My presence is always with you. I promise.
Before you leave, remember I have a favor to ask of you. Do you love Me?
“Yes, Lord.”
Then feed My lambs.
“What?”
Feed My lambs.
“What does that mean?”
It means that I have a special group of lambs, My precious orphans. I’ve spent this time with you to prepare you to feed them physically and spiritually. I am the light of the world,8 and all My followers are light-bearers.
“Yes, Lord. I’d do anything for You,” she said, gazing at His eyes of love focused on her.
I’m giving you this Bible, He handed her a plain-looking black Bible. Written in the front are some Scriptures in the order you’ll need them. My truth will help guide you on this adventure. He held up a colorful pair of dangly earrings. I know you like jewelry. These might come in handy.
“Oh, they’re perf—they’re wonderful.” She puts them on.
It’s time for you to leave, but remember, I’ll always be with you, Julie.
He walked her to the back platform. She was the only passenger disembarking. After a long hug, she went down the steps backward, still holding His hands and gazing into His eyes. He let go of her hands as the train slowly moved from the station. She followed it to the very end of the platform. “Good-bye,” she shouted while waving. She didn’t take her eyes off Him until the train disappeared in the distance. “That was amazingly, wonderful, incredible!” She sighed deeply and turned around.
Before she could stop herself, she let out a piercing scream and clamped both hands over her mouth. Hundreds of dark-haired, sari-clad women and Indian men stared at her. The sign above the platform read, “Mumbai.”