Abigail’s 40 Days

My next novel…

Here is a sneak peek, from an early draft, of my story “Abigail’s 40 Days”. The story revolves around the “so-call” rumors that Jesus rose from the dead. There’s been several sightings, but Abigail doubts as her mission is to find who killed her brother. Join her as she lives through a time when the early church was being established.

I had never seen Nathanael so worked up.

“I heard from the other disciples that the guards watching over Jesus’s tomb had been given a large sum of money to claim we disciples stole the body under the darkness of night.” Nathanael’s voice filled with rage as perspiration beaded on his forehead.

Joanna and Silas had been in a deep conversation when they had become aware of Nathanael frustration. Even Mary had finished her cleaning as the last of the clanging pans where hung on the wall. All three joined us where we stood.

“What has you so concerned Nathanael.” Silas put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Calm down, brother, can we pray about the problem?”

I saw Nathanael turn a shade of red.

He stopped pacing. “I’m sorry friends. Sometimes I get angered over the injustice shown to us Jews. I just do not understand the rumors and lies that are building up over Jesus’s resurrection.”

Silas broke out in laughter. “My dear friend, it is not every day a dead man returns to life. Some think Jesus caused great problems for the priests while He was on the earth. Can you image what they think He will do now that He has come back to life?”

Prayer

It’s quiet here where slice of day

finds its courage to slowly blink, as

birds fluff their dry feathers from dust;

which forms mini clouds in hot sun.

The stalks of corn bow low to cracked

earth unable to perspire due to drought.

It’s quiet here where dollops of doubt

find its way into corners of the heart;

tears flow, drip down once dry cheeks

which pool in trembling, empty hands.

The God of almighty resources waits-

for those hands to stretch towards Him.

It’s quite here where a pinch of hope

finds it’s way into the doubting soul,

as prayers rise like incense to the One

to whom clouds, man and all were formed.

The blessed hope lies in power of prayer

not in the fragile strength, or pride of man.

“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” Mark 11:24