When Love Came Knocking

When Love Came Knocking
by Sharlyn Guthrie


The street was empty and dark except for flickering television sets illuminating the clouded windows of broken down trailers. A woman’s shrieks shredded the silence, but no one noticed. An infant’s cry soon erupted. Lucy Bryant had given birth to her fourth child. The twenty two year old slumped back onto her filthy bed, leaving the wet, scrawny infant untouched between her legs.

“Mama?” Jasmine’s eyes stretched as wide as lollipops.

“What’re you lookin’ at? Git! And take him with you. He needs a bath.” Lucy used the kitchen knife from the nightstand to slice through the cord.

Regarding the wiggling creature with wonder, the six-year-old gathered him up in a bed sheet. “Mama, can we keep this one?”

“Dunno. Just let me get some sleep.”

“I’d like you gooder if you was a sister, but you can’t help it you’re a boy.” Jasmine filled the bathroom sink half-full of water, dipped her brother in and out several times, then rubbed him dry with the bed sheet. His head wobbled and his legs stiffened as he screamed, reddening his transparent skin.

Several hours later, Lucy found them nestled together, the newborn swaddled in Jasmine’s outgrown Little Mermaid tee shirt. Despair overwhelmed her. Light-headed and weak, Lucy packed a few essentials and fled.

Falls Creek Bible Church would begin its summer children’s program next week. As Laura Rayburn drove home from the planning meeting, something or Someone urged her to turn along the rough, narrow lane she usually passed without a thought. Guilt and shame tore at her tender heart as she drove through the impoverished community. Why hadn’t she or her church family ever reached out to these hurting people?

Silently petitioning the Lord for protection and courage, Laura stretched across two broken steps to rap on a door. Putrid air poured out of the dilapidated trailer, surrounding the wisp of a girl who appeared. Dark half-moons under the child’s eyes made her appear old and haggard.

“Hi, I’m Laura. May I speak to your mother or father?”

“I’m Jasmine. I don’t got no mother or father.”

“May I come in?” The question from her own mouth startled Laura. She hadn’t planned to go inside, and yet something or Someone propelled her forward, through the open door.

Laura gasped when the rag doll on the couch suddenly drew breath and wailed. “That’s my brother.” Jasmine intoned.

‘What’s his name?” Laura questioned.

“I dunno. I just call him Brother.”

Apprehension nibbled at Laura’s insides, but she reached for the child. “May I?”

“You can’t have him. He’s mine.”

“Oh, Honey, I’m not taking him, I just want to hold him.”

“His head isn’t on very tight.”

“Okay, I’ll be careful.” The bit of childish wisdom produced a wan smile.

The infant was weak and much too thin, Laura realized with alarm. He wasn’t even wearing a diaper. “When did he last have a bottle?”

“Oh! I give him one whenever he cries. I found Jake’s old bottle in the cupboard.”

“Jake?”

“He was my brother, too. A social worker took him away with the last baby. Are you a social worker?”

“No.” Laura sank into the couch, nauseated and tearful. “I came here to tell you that Jesus loves you. Do you know about Jesus?”

“I don’t know any Jesus. Is he a friend of yours?”

“Well, yes. He is. He wants to be your friend, too, Jasmine. Could you use some help taking care of this little guy?”

Jasmine’s eyes searched the floor surrounding her dirty bare feet. “I guess so. We’re out of milk. Babies got to have milk, don’t they? He needs diapers, too. I hafta keep changing his shirts. Can Jesus help me take care of him?”

“Listen, Jasmine,” Laura squatted, peering into two deep, serious eyes. “Jesus is God’s Son. We can’t see Him, but He hears our prayers. I’m going to pray right now and ask Him to get you the help you need. Okay?”

Jasmine had an invisible friend, too, but she knew that hers was make-believe. Laura seemed to think her friend, Jesus, was real. Jasmine liked the way Laura smiled when she talked to Him. Brother cuddled into Laura’s shoulder and Jasmine slid slender arms around Laura’s waist, pressing into her as she dialed for help on her cell phone.

Surprised by the warmth surging through her, Jasmine exclaimed, “This must be love!” Then, closing her eyes as Laura had done, she whispered, “Thank you, Jesus.”



Karlene is Hosting Fiction Friday at Homespun Expressions today. Please pay her a visit to find more great fiction or to post your own story.

September's Sunshine

Did you happen to notice that this September's sunshine was just a little brighter than usual? I am about to tell you why. It's because my two new beautiful granddaughters were born this month! Since they are, by far, the best news of the month I can’t let the month end without announcing their arrival here, on my blog. The girls were both due September 18th, so we were eager to see when they would actually arrive. As it turned out, they were both in a bit of a hurry!

Hope Lillian Guthrie was born first, on September 2nd, weighing 7 lbs. 6 oz. Besides her mom and dad (Travis and Kristen), Hope joins her “big” sister, Selah, 14 months. Since she lives over 1,000 miles away, we have been dying to meet her; the next three weeks can’t go by fast enough. Romans 5:3-5, a favorite passage of her daddy's, was the inspiration for Hope’s first name.

For Hope

Hope, the meaning of your name
Is more than whimsy or a game;
more than childish fantasy
or wishing well frivolity.

Hope from God is better far
than pot of gold or falling star.
It’s an anchor -safe, secure-
a place to stand when life’s unsure.

Where God’s love and truth abound
A quiet confidence is found,
giving reason to expect
what nobody has seen, just yet.

Hope lifts eyes to Heaven above;
assures us of our Savior’s love;
keeps your feet from stumbling
when things around are crumbling.

On with life, a “hoper” goes;
Needs not cross fingers or toes;
waits with patience and with peace
as both hope and joy increase.

Hope won’t disappoint, you know;
your mom and dad have found it so.
Sweet child, your parents hoped for you.
God answered, and their dreams came true.

~Grandma Guthrie

Olive Joy Guthrie was born September 10th, weighing 10 lbs. 1 oz. She is Tyson’s and Sarah's first and highly anticipated child, arriving one month after their 9th anniversary! I was asked to write a prayer for one of the baby showers held before Olive’s birth. The theme of the shower was, “Wrapped in Love,” and this baby certainly was!

Prayer for the Talents, Abilities, and Spiritual Gifts of Sweet Baby Guthrie

Father, I thank you and praise you for your marvelous works in weaving the intricacies of my new little granddaughter inside Sarah’s womb. I can’t wait to see what talents, abilities and spiritual gifts you have chosen for her. Will she inherit her mother’s artistic flair, or her father’s songwriting talent? Or will she be endowed with abilities exclusively her own?
I only ask that each attribute be used for Your honor and glory. May we celebrate her as a unique, marvelous being. Please give each of us the grace and the wisdom to accept her just as You have designed her, and in doing so, may we light the path that leads her to You, Lord. For even more than my arms ache to hold her, I yearn for the day when she lays each attribute at Your feet, recognizing You as her Savior and King. Thank You, dear Father! Through this precious creation, Tyson and Sarah and each of us who have earnestly prayed for this child are once again in awe of Your grace, faithfulness and love toward us. Praise Your holy name! Amen
~Grandma Guthrie

Olives are symbolic of many things in the Bible: peace, prayer, promises, and anointing. Tyson and Sarah chose the name "Olive" because of the peace God gave them throughout their difficult journey to parenthood.






Welcome, precious girls! Grandma Guthrie loves you already, and I look forward to many days of dollies, tea parties, dress up...and sunshine –especially when all five girl cousins (now age two and under) get together! Noah, you have no idea what family gatherings will be like for you in the future!

The Fragile Bowl

by Sharlyn Guthrie











Life is great, the day is bright, I’m feeling satisfied.
It often seems that’s just the time my faith is sorely tried.
I’ll stretch a little higher, maybe now I’ll reach my goal.
My fingertips have brushed, and now dislodged the fragile bowl.
In an instant confidence comes crashing at my feet.
There it lies in shattered slivers, threatening my defeat.
One moment all I strove for was nearly in my grasp.
In haste it was destroyed before the next moment elapsed.

This scene has been replayed, and now I ache with a desire
To sweep the pieces up and drop them in God’s blazing fire.
His skillful hands mold broken shards into a vessel healed,
Each more exquisite than the last, His workmanship revealed.
The fire is hot, the process sometimes painful and severe;
But with each trial I’m learning better how to persevere.
When at last my vessel glistens, completed by His grace
I want to see more clearly the image of His face.

Exulting in my circumstance so tragic, yet assured
I find in Him the strength I need to patiently endure.
The confidence restored is in my Savior, not my self.
Tenderly I place it on a not-so-distant shelf.
Resplendent in its beauty, when I look at it I see
A reflection of my Master where my handprints used to be.
New hope expands within me, stirred by the Spirit’s breath;
A hope that never disappoints, and fears not even death.

(Based on Romans 5:3-5)

Hope Emerges

I can't think of anything in nature more mysteriously beautiful than the metamorphosis of a butterfly. It is such a picture of hope and second chances.




Hope Emerges

Throughout the barren winter and in the dark of night,
on dismal days when color is unexposed by light,
an altered life abides its self-made shell
while the things that best could lift it from out of the abyss
expand, useless and crumpled inside the chrysalis.

Creature’s plight could be perceived as pitiful mischance,
restricted by its nature and blind by circumstance.
No future can prevail for one so dead.
Confounding recollections of a less than lustrous past
Transcend present existence by margin wide and vast.

Somehow, despite misgivings and elements endured
The creature feels a stirring, a tiny rip is heard.
Perhaps there is a future after all!
Then blinding rays invade the creature’s dank and dreary space
Enlarging and exposing a life within that place.

Although its whole existence hangs by a silken thread
New warmth floods in, surrounds it, reviving what was dead.
“Alive for what?” the situation begs.
And now it finds the number of its legs has been reduced.
By whose sad misadventure was this tragedy induced?

It’s now finished emerging from out its tight cocoon.
A tingling sensation spreads through its members soon.
Just what it means is more than one could guess.
Its wobbly legs are strengthened and fresh air unfurls its wings,
now swelling up with hope and fortitude that hoping brings.

For hours it sits immobile, yet quivers in the wind.
As transformation finishes, bold hues merge and blend.
Life-sustaining blood now surges through.
Translucent, dazzling wings spread outward with uncanny ease,
and hope, like butterfly is buoyed upon a lilting breeze.

--Sharlyn Guthrie




Please take time to stop by Christina Banks' blog, WITH PEN IN HAND, for more Friday Fiction.

The Tried and True Oreo Cookie

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer." Romans 12:12

Maybe it’s because I am hungry, but the more I contemplate this verse, the more it reminds me of an Oreo cookie. Now I realize that doesn’t sound very spiritual, but stay with me. I’ll try to explain.

An Oreo cookie has two sides held in place by the filling; or perhaps it’s the other way around –a filling, held in place by its two sides. Either way you look at it, it’s a time-tested recipe. It works!

The creamy center filling of Romans 12:12 is “patience in affliction.” Afflictions are common to all of us. When a trial or affliction comes my way, there is often little I can do but endure it. Of course I could choose to complain about my situation, lashing out at God and everyone around me, but that would only expose my character, rather than shape it. If instead I endure my afflictions patiently, I will be enriched and grow; I will stick with it and persevere; and God will be glorified. Patience is the sticky, sweet ingredient in afflictions, just as corn syrup is the sticky, sweet ingredient in the filling of the Oreo.

My filling clings on one side to the “faithfulness in prayer” cookie. It is often because I am “stuck” there in the center of my affliction that I find myself repeatedly calling upon God for strength, endurance, and deliverance. Nothing increases the urgency and faithfulness of my prayer life like an affliction or trial. It works the other way, too. Remaining faithful in prayer increases my ability to remain patient in afflictions.

On the opposite side, my filling clings to the cookie of “joyfulness in hope.” Regardless of what the affliction is, it stirs in me a hope for Heaven, where there will be no more afflictions, no pain, no sorrows or trials. This hope produces joy, because no matter what, I know the ultimate end of the story.

I am always thankful for the cookies on each side of the filling when I eat an Oreo cookie. Besides being delicious, they give me something solid to hold onto. What could be more solid in the Christian life than hope and prayer? Without those two essential elements, it would be nearly impossible to patiently endure the trials that are sandwiched in between. Attempting to eat the filling by itself could get quite messy. In the same way, my life would be messy if I had to deal with trials without the benefit of prayer and hope.

There you have it: short, sweet, and stuck together in a neat little package just like a delicious Oreo cookie. Think of the Oreo and remember God's tried and true recipe for success the next time you find yourself facing an affliction or trial: "Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer."

Now, if you will excuse me, it’s time for a snack. I think I’ll start by pouring myself a nice tall glass of milk.

















Today I am participating in "Monday Manna," hosted by Joanne Sher at An Open Book. Visit her blog for links to more discussion on Romans 12:12.

Three Robust Robins

Three Robust Robins
by Sharlyn Guthrie

Three robust robins reveled in this morning’s warming sun.
They hopped about as Robins do, declaring Spring begun,
Excitedly discussing which strategies are best
For choosing the location of each families’ feathered nest.

The strong and sturdy ash tree was found last year to be
The very place the cats chose as preferred residency
So each fowl in turn examined its own potential perch…
Under the deck, in lilac bush, or high up in the birch.

I watched them from my window as they met out on the lawn
A sign as sure as any that life on earth goes on.
My musings turned to Father God, Creator of all things
Who treasures things like robin nests as well as sparrow wings.

He tends, regards and nurtures every child and bird and beast
Granting worth and favor to those deemed as the least.
His heart is filled with pity for each fallen little bird.
How it must break when humans deem His promises absurd!

The robins quickly scattered when the cat went out to play
But I glimpsed their tireless striving as I labored through the day.
One poked under the clothesline, hoarding feathers, twigs and string
One strained against a worm, and one commenced to sing.

Bird ballad buoyed my spirit, and I joined in heavenly praise.
In this our God was honored on this earliest of spring days.
Approvingly God smiled upon the toils of hands and beaks
This homely worship won His heart…for praise is what He seeks.