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The Flowers of His Field (Altered Hearts volume 4)

By Roger E. Bruner

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Prologue

I lifted the heavy gold prism necklace from the corners of the mirror I kept it looped over, held it against me, and grinned at the luxurious way it made me look. I didn't put it on, though. Any other day I probably would've set it aside simply because a style-conscious twenty-year-old woman like me didn't normally wear that type of jewelry.

But I had a different reason for not wearing it today. I had purposely dressed down-faded tee shirt, holey jeans that weren't in good enough shape to describe as "distressed," and equally threadbare sneakers. My only jewelry was the cheapy watch I'd once bought at the Dallas/Fort Worth Airport after losing my good watch on a flight from Atlanta. I normally relied on my cell phone for the time, but my wrist felt naked without something on it.

After a day or two of working with migrant kids at my church's House of Bread ministry several years earlier, I found I could relate to them better if I didn't look more affluent than they did; that meant not looking affluent at all.

Volunteering at the House of Bread for the second summer not only made me think I was performing an important ministry, it also gave me eight hours a day to practice the Spanish I'd been working so hard to learn in college.

I sighed before hanging the necklace on the mirror again. Memories of my mission trip to Mexico two summers earlier chased thoughts of the migrant kids far out of my head for a few precious moments. No wonder. That trip had been the turning point of my life.

Almost overnight I'd changed from a spoiled, thoughtless, and immature teen to, well, a less spoiled, less thoughtless, and at least slightly more mature woman. After leaving a loving mother at home and a dad I couldn't understand, I returned home to a mother who'd died coming to the airport to pick me up-and a dad who was far more wonderful than I'd ever suspected.

Circumstances like those can change anyone-anyone who's willing to let God work on the rough edges, that is. But He had to get my attention first. Had that ever been painful.

I'd also quit floundering over what to do with my life.

My desire to evangelize the villagers of Santa María without any translators had frustrated me no end. But God set me to work reading aloud from a Spanish Bible without knowing what I was reading or how to pronounce the words-until the villagers taught me. The dream of Heaven I had on the bus returning to San Diego turned me into a Spanish major, one I knew God wanted to use in missions.

I looked at the prism necklace again. It had played a more important role in the events of that summer than I'd realized at the time.

Doggone it, Lord! I want to go back to Santa María. I want to see my new 'big sister' Rosa and her precious daughter, Anjelita. Rosa permitted Anjelita to give me this necklace to symbolize the fact they considered me part of their family, and that's why I keep it in front of my eyes daily, even though I rarely wear it.

I need to see them again, Heavenly Father. Not just to catch up on what's happened during the past twenty-four months, but to learn how Rosa has grown in her faith…and whether other villagers have become Believers. Now that You've helped me become this fluent in Spanish, I won't just be able to talk with Rosa and Anjelita for the first time, I'll also be able to witness to the other villagers.

Okay, Lord. I get it. Not my will, but Yours. I need to accept the fact that You know what's best for me and for the villagers of Santa María. But if You change Your mind, just let me know. I'm ready to go. Not just ready. Raring to go…

Chapter 1
Two weeks later.

Dad punched the speakerphone button. "What did you just say?" His tone told me he didn't have any idea who the caller was, and he stared at the phone as if thinking he should've hung up instead of responding.

"This is Dr. Morales. Rosa--Rosa del Mundo--needs your help. Come to Santa María as soon as possible. Preferably sooner."

Although his references to Rosa and Santa María made me sit up straighter, when I heard those last two words, I cackled. Surely the man was joking.

He didn't laugh, however, and he didn't say anything else. Not only that, he hung up before Dad could open his mouth to ask for more information.

Without saying anything to me first, Dad phoned Rob White. As the construction boss on my mission trip to Santa María and the trip Dad and I had taken together--along with my best friends, Aleesha and Jo--to the Red Cedar prison in the California mountains, he'd become a super friend to all four of us.

Dad's call didn't seem to surprise Rob. Yes, he'd also heard from Dr. Morales. He hadn't learned any specifics about Rosa's problem, either, and that frustrated him deeply. But he was going to go regardless. Santa María wasn't close to his home in San Francisco, but it was drivable.

He would go the next day and take a couple of helpers. He needed time to pack and load tools and construction supplies. Just in case Rosa needed the kind of help he'd had more than forty years of experience providing others, most recently on mission trips.

He'd apparently made the decision to go to Santa María without giving it much thought. And why not? Rosa needed help. And Mrs. White had almost insisted that her husband go.

If it were up to me, that decision would be a no-brainer, too. But it wasn't mine to make.

Even though Dad was usually cautious about making a decision, he didn't keep me waiting long that time. As close as he and I had grown since Mom's death, he understood how much I loved Rosa and Anjelita. Rosa was the big sister I'd never had and Anjelita the little niece I'd always wanted.

So I didn't have to beg or cajole him. I didn't even have to ask.

He cleared his throat. "Aleesha…?"

She'd been so quiet, intently reading what looked like a boring college psych textbook, that I'd nearly forgotten she was in the room. Quiet like that was Twilight Zone-weird for an extroverted sweetheart like her.

She looked up. "Yes, sir, Mr. Scott?"

"Can you go with us?"

She wrinkled her ebony forehead. "I'm sorry. Go where?" She must've been even more caught up in her reading than I'd realized. Never had I known her to be so inattentive to anything going on nearby. She probably hadn't even noticed the phone calls.

Dad explained briefly.

She glanced at her fingernails. "How long will you be gone?"

He shook his head. "No way of knowing. I'm assuming no more than two weeks, but Dr. Morales didn't give us enough--"

"He didn't tell us anything we needed to know!" Aleesha looked at me and frowned. Whether it was because I'd interrupted Dad or because of what I'd said, I couldn't tell.

She narrowed her eyes and then looked back at Dad. "This week I have to do a couple of concerts with the Zambranos. Although Rex and Layla would probably understand about me going to Santa María, I couldn't let them down without knowing I was really needed there. And summer school starts next week. I hate to say I can't go, but"-her sigh was barely audible, but clearly frustrated-"I can't."

A couple of tears dribbled down my face. Returning to Santa María without Aleesha was unimaginable. She'd become one of my best friends on the previous trip. "You'll pray for us, won't you?"

She smiled. Her usual radiant smile. "You even have to ask?"

Dad toyed with his phone for a minute. "Kim, you'd better check with Jo before I call Dr. Morales back. See if she wants to make up for missing Santa María two years ago. Tell her we'll pay. I've been setting money aside for a mission trip." His soft moan made me feel like crying. "I wish we knew whether this was going to be one."

I nodded, wiggled my phone out of my rear jeans pocket, and speed dialed Jo's number. When she answered, I pushed the speaker button. I gave her the lowdown as briefly as possible.

Maybe too briefly. She still had questions. "Who is this Dr. Morales, anyhow?"

I shrugged-as if she could see me. "All we know is he's some kind of doctor." Duh. Why would he be Dr. Morales if he wasn't? "He speaks wonderful English, but with a strong Latino accent. He talks very little, though. But he knows Rosa and Santa María. Who is he?" I giggled once. "We don't have any idea."

She was silent for a moment. "When are you leaving?"

Dad pointed at the wall clock and shook his head.

"We probably couldn't get ready in time to catch a flight tonight, even if one was available. Tomorrow will have to do."

Jo groaned audibly. "Believe it or not, I'm heading to San Diego myself the day after tomorrow."

"What? Why didn't you--?"

"Sorry, girlfriend. I only found out today, and I couldn't call you yet because I've been busy getting ready. Mrs. Meekins assigned me to a special research project she thought I might enjoy doing for a well-loved-read that as a wealthy-library patron. No further than I've gotten in my library studies, that's quite an honor."

"What will you be doing?"

"It probably won't sound exciting to you, but I'll be digging through a special collection in the San Diego library, looking for information about Señor Hernandez's family background."

"Yum!" I didn't try to hide my sarcasm.

"I don't know how long that'll take, but Mrs. Meekins told me to stay an extra couple of days if I want to. He's paying for everything, and he wants me to enjoy my trip since he isn't able to go himself. If I wrap things up quickly enough, I might be able to come to Santa María while you're there. I'll be sure to take my passport."

The passport you didn't get to use because your mom-the "old mom"-forbade you to go to Santa María…at practically the last minute. Please, Lord, let Jo find the time to come.

Dad nodded. I don't think he saw me cringe at the thought of him and me going to Santa María by ourselves. Without either of my best friends, that is. As much as I loved doing things with him, he wasn't just one of my best friends. He was so much more…and the world's best dad.

He pressed a button--he must've put Dr. Morales on his contact list while I was talking with Jo--and then switched to speakerphone mode. After several rings, a man at the other end cleared his throat. "Dr. Ricardo Morales speaking."

"This is Scott Hartlinger. Kim and I will come tomorrow. How do we get to Santa María from San Diego?"

"Nikki will drive you. Text me your flight number." With that, he hung up.

~*~

I couldn't believe it. After two years of wanting to return to Santa María de los Campos, I was finally on my way. Dad was seated beside me on an early morning Skyfly flight from Atlanta to San Diego. Non-stop this time; he must not have wanted to chance my making us miss a connecting flight. On our arrival we'd learn who Nikki was.

I groaned so loudly Dad peeked at me out of the corner of one eye. He understood.

If we'd been going to Santa María to evangelize the rest of the villagers in their own language--I'd almost been eating, sleeping, and drinking college Spanish for that very purpose--I would've been thrilled.

But I wasn't excited. This wasn't a pleasure trip. Although I looked forward to seeing Rosa and Anjelita again, it didn't sound like an evangelistic trip, either.

I didn't know what it was. I looked at Dad and shrugged in confusion.

He patted my shoulder. He not only understood, he probably felt as bewildered as I did.

I kept trying to get to sleep-I'd barely slept the night before-but I couldn't. In my half-drowsy state, I grew increasingly antsy about this trip. Could the whole thing be an elaborate hoax? Would drug-dealing terrorists kidnap and hold us for ransom? Or do something even worse?

Why hadn't I quit watching violent movies and TV shows years earlier?

At least I had enough sense not to suggest any of those unlikely possibilities to Dad. In spite of his almost irrationally-instantaneous decision to go, he probably had enough concerns of his own.

Like why he'd made such a hasty decision this time.

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