“I wish Christmas would last forever!” Kylie Hawk wrapped her arms around herself. “What do you say, Zsuzsi? Isn’t this the greatest time of year? Don’t you wish it would just go on and on?”
The large white dog sitting beside Kylie’s rocking chair responded with a happy Woof! Kylie grinned at the komondor, then uttered a contented sigh as she rocked back and forth. She gazed out the bedroom window at the early morning, noting the cloud-covered sky. “Looks as though we’re going to have snow again today, girl.”
The dog tilted her head, as though considering her mistress’s words. Kylie laughed, reaching out to rub the dog’s long ears, loving the feel of her soft, corded coat.
She glanced down to the Bible in her lap. Several years ago she decided to read through Isaiah during the Christmas season. It had been so moving that she’d made it a tradition. Normally she settled for reading two or three chapters a day. But this morning she’d found herself paging through the book, as though looking for something. And so she had. Once again she read over the section in Isaiah 40 that had seemed to jump out to her when she’d turned to it:
A voice says, “Call out.” Then he answered, “What shall I call out?” . . . Get yourself up on a high mountain, O Zion, bearer of good news, Lift up your voice mightily, O Jerusalem, bearer of good news; Lift it up, do not fear. Say to the cities of Judah, Here is your God!
A shiver passed over Kylie. She’d been reading the Bible for most of her life, but seldom had she felt such a strong impression—as though the Lord wanted her, Kylie Hawk, on this specific day in early December, to read these specific words. As though he had something special in store. “I’m listening, Father.”
A strong, sweet awareness swept over her, and she closed her eyes, filled with wonder. God was there. She could feel him touching her heart and spirit, flowing over her with his presence. And a certain conviction settled in her heart that this Scripture was more than just a morning reading. It was a message she needed to share.
But with whom?
“Show me, Lord—”
Be-weep!
The sharp sound startled Kylie from her whispered prayer, and she glanced out the window. The neighbor was walking toward his sleek, expensive car. He must have just disabled the alarm. She watched as he opened the car door . . . and took in the man’s tall frame, confident stance, and no-doubt tailor-made overcoat.
Mackenzie St. Clair, the quintessential “man who has everything.” She started to turn back to her prayer, but something stopped her.
“Call out.”
She frowned, watching the man as he retrieved a file folder, then pushed the door shut and reset the alarm.
“Call out . . . say to the cities of Judah, ‘Here is your God.’ ”
Kylie’s breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding, Lord!”
“Call out.”
She shook her head. “No way. Not this man.” She lifted her gaze heavenward. “I’ve tried before, Father. You know I have.”
She’d tried to be friendly after moving in next door. Every conversation she tried to start had been met with monosyllabic responses. The record to date was a three-minute conversation in which he’d stopped her while she was on a walk with Zsuzsi and asked her to please keep her sunflowers from leaning over the back fence into his yard.
“They drop seeds.” The distaste in his expression was echoed in his tone. “And the birds are all over them.”
“I know.” Kylie offered her most winning smile. “Aren’t the birds fun to watch?”
His eyebrows arched a fraction. “Fun? You like having birds spreading seeds all over your lawn?”
“Well, yes. That’s the point.”
His dark eyes when he turned back to her were pure bafflement. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She tried to explain. “More flowers means more birds.”
“And more mess.”
She’d opened her mouth to debate but realized it was no use. He just didn’t get it. And so she told him she’d do her best to keep the flowers on her side of the fence.
“I’d appreciate it.”
Nearly every other encounter she’d had with him had ended in the same way: with him looking at her as though she were from Mars, and her sighing and shrugging her shoulders.
“He thinks I’m a nut, Lord!”
The room resonated with silence, and after a moment Kylie let out a slow, deep breath. “OK, if you say so.” She let her fingers stroke Zsuzsi’s broad head, finding comfort in the action. “But I sure hope you intend to send me some help with this. Because one thing’s for sure, I’ll never get through to Mackenzie St. Clair on my own!”