Another Royal Wedding to Anticipate

With all eyes on the Royal Wedding of William and Kate today, I decided to repost a story I wrote about the greatest love story of all time...and the much anticipated Royal Wedding that is to come.

The Peasant and the Prince
by Sharlyn Guthrie

A young peasant woman shuddered at the sight of the prince striding toward her. Shrinking into the shadows she attempted to hide, fearful of his motive in seeking her out. She had spat at him yesterday as he passed, though she hadn’t thought he’d noticed.

The shadows failed to conceal her. He grasped her with firm, yet surprisingly gentle hands. “I saw you on the street yesterday.”

Her eyes scanned the pebbles near his feet and her throat constricted, preventing a reply.
Placing one finger under her chin, he tipped her head, causing her to meet his tender gaze. He wiped a smudge from her cheek, then caught her as her knees buckled.

“I have come to offer you this.” He smiled, extending a roll of parchment tied with red ribbon. “It is a ketubah, a marriage contract. I love you, and wish for you to become my kallah, my bride.”

“You? Marry me?” She searched his face for the mockery she expected to see, but none was found. “I haven’t a dowry,” she managed, ashamed.

“It makes no difference. If you accept my proposal I will see to it that you are housed and cared for until I return to take you as my wife. It’s all here in the ketubah: my love for you, my intent to marry you, and promises to fulfill all of my obligations to you both now and in the future.”

“But where will you be?”

“I am going away to prepare our future home. I can’t say when I will return, only that I will. And when I do, you must be ready for our marriage. Will you accept me as your groom, your choson?”

“Oh yes, I do accept!” She bent to kiss his feet, but was quickly drawn up into his embrace.

“Then you must begin now to act worthy of me. Go, change your clothes and ready yourself for the day of my return.”

One rapturous kiss was shared, and the prince left as quickly as he had come. Word of the betrothal spread, and many were taken aback. Why would a prince marry a peasant woman? Some were angered, while others simply chose not to believe it was true. Still others marveled at the mystery and intrigue of the unlikely match.

The kallah soon discovered that her temporary home was situated in the realm ruled by the prince’s arch-enemy. Still, she cheerfully went about her preparations for marriage, concerning herself with little else. Her new life contrasted sharply with the life she had lived as a peasant. Few had taken notice of her in the past, but with her name now linked to that of her choson, all eyes, it seemed, were on her.

Attractive suitors clamored for her attention –men of strength, ardor, and shocking impropriety. Their attention was flattering, nevertheless. One offered wealth beyond compare, another fame and recognition throughout every worldly kingdom, yet another promised amazing supernatural powers. Such offers sometimes tempted the kallah, who was growing weary, and at times impatient.

Each suitor was seemingly more attractive than the last. When their charming ways failed to entice her, their tactics became less subtle. “Didn’t he say he would return?” they taunted, “Where is your choson? See? He has left you with only a ketubah filled with empty promises. Surely he is dead, or else he has found another lover more worthy of his name.”

Confused, the kallah unrolled the ketubah, seeking her beloved’s wisdom. “Be on the alert for imposters sent by the enemy,” it said. “They are wolves in sheep’s clothing who seek to snatch you away from me. Don’t pay them any heed. Keep your heart pure.”

Years passed, and life went on around her. Most of the kingdom dwellers lost interest in the story of the peasant and the prince. When the aging woman attempted to remind them, they laughed. “You’re still waiting for your prince? You’re missing all the fun. Don’t you know that purity is outdated? A real lover wouldn’t expect you to wait so long.”

Still, the kallah remained faithful, yearning for her beloved. The wait had been long, and sometimes it seemed unbearable. But day after day she reached for the well-worn ketubah, and each day its words rekindled her passion and restored her longing. For once she was merely a peasant woman in soiled garments, but soon her home would be a palace. She knew the prince, her precious choson would come.

If you would like to participate in Fiction Friday or post your own fiction, please visit Writing With Debra.

One Tiny Tender Shoot

One Tiny Tender Shoot

From barren soil, drought-stricken, parched
one tiny tender Shoot appeared.
So plain and homely was its form
it was not welcomed nor revered
where men in sullen shadows marched.

Abundant sorrow shame and grief
bent the Sprout low to the ground,
so smitten and afflicted here
that even God most surely frowned,
making its earthly visit brief.

I saw through eyes blind and diseased;
I saw, and yet assumed the worst:
Death was the end –His just reward,
but of the dead He was the first
to end its curse, and God was pleased!

Abundant love coursed through His veins,
abundant pardon, mercy, grace
gushed from violent gaping wounds,
compassion dripping from His face;
Only His righteousness remains.

Broken and bathed in Jesus’ blood
my sins are gone, my sight restored!
The Bud, once stricken, scorned, despised
now stately, treasured, and adored;
once-thirsty soil quenched by the flood.

Abundant life and joy and peace
sustain my spirit, soul and mind!
I feast on Him, my daily bread,
And drink His water, milk, and wine…
abundant gifts that never cease!

~Sharlyn Guthrie
(Based on Isaiah 53 and 55:1)

Spring Again, and Again, and Again...

I love Spring…awakening to bird song, browns and greys turning to lush greens, life bursting from every crevice! No wonder I am thrilled to be experiencing Spring for the third time this year. That’s right –this late Iowa spring, long in the coming, interrupted this morning by light snow, is my third!










My second Spring was experienced in South Carolina the last week of March.
























In February I had the privilege of traveling to Wales for Heart of God East Africa. I traveled with Denise and Jan –a whirlwind trip, but so beautiful, inspiring, and fruitful. I certainly didn’t expect to be greeted by Spring there, but what a wonderful surprise to discover green grass, crocus and daffodils brightening up the landscape.























We were met in London by our hosts, Mary and Alwyn. Mary is the founder of King's Primary School, the school in Bunambutye, Uganda, where I have visited the past two summers.













Up until the time of our visit, we had only communicated with Mary by email, so of course we wondered if communication would be easier or more difficult in person; if it would take some time to warm up to each other, or if we would feel an immediate connection. The five hour drive with three of us squeezed into the back seat of their compact car provided plenty of time for "warming up." Along the way we each shared our testimony of coming to know Jesus Christ. What a precious time of instant bonding!











As we entered Wales, we soon became accustomed to seeing all the signs printed in both English and Welsh.












Mary drove us to their home in Abertysswg Village, nearly five hours from the airport. Abertysswg means “mouth of the river, ” and was originally built as a mining town.






















Mary and Alwyn’s home is called Glan Yr Afon, or “river side.” One of the only stand-alone houses in the village, it is over 100 years old. The setting couldn’t have been more idyllic.












































































I particularly loved this view from my bedroom window...












Mary and Alwyn made us feel welcome and comfortable. They invited some other friends of King’s Primary School to come and meet us, and we all had such a great time of fellowship. What a treat to be their guests! We made some exciting plans for the school, and decided on some projects for the large team that will be traveling there in July of this year. One of the men, an engineer who helped to build the school, has made plans that our team will use to wire the school for electricity. It has been so amazing to see God working through these plans, providing just the right people for the jobs! He has answered each prayer so specifically, that we can’t help but see that He is in it!






























We had time for a little sightseeing, too. Caerphilly…















































































Cardiff Bay…




















































The Welsh Parliament…












































Theatre of the Arts…





























It was an amazing trip that ended too soon, but as we returned from sightseeing this bit of graffiti spotted on a wall reminded us of our united purpose...











So true! The Bible states it this way, "The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked. Who can know it?"* We are here to confirm that God is in the business of intimately knowing and changing hearts in Iowa, California, Ohio, Wales, and Uganda!

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, He is a new creation. The old is gone. The new has come!"**. Now, doesn't that sound like Spring?


* Jeremiah 17:9

** 2 Corinthians 5:17

Fishin' Fer Men

I scrounged up this poem I wrote several years ago for today's Friday Fiction. It's not what I typically write -mostly jest fer fun.



Fishin’ Fer Men
by Sharlyn Guthrie

“Ernie, put yer waders on.
Go grab yer pole an’ lure.
Reckon I don’t hafta tell
ya’ what them things are fer.

Now tell th’ missus s’long
then hop in this here truck.
Down yon at Lake Kahoochee
we’ll try our trollin’ luck.

I sure ‘nuf knows it’s Sunday,
but ‘tisn’t ever’ day
th’ catfish are a bitin’
same as they are t’day.

Besides, it’s by the churchyard.
We’ll hear th’ choir singin’.
We’ll have a taste o’ Heaven
while our catch we’re stringin’.

I musta been convincin’;
‘took less than a minute.
Th’ missus ain’t too happy?
Shoot! She’ll soon forget it.

Now Hold th’ worm can, Ernie.
--dug ‘em fresh this mornin’.
I ain’t got time fer preachin’;
it’s oh so dry, an’ borin’.

Reckon th’ times a’comin’
I’ll hafta change my ways.
‘Til then I’ll jes’ keep fishin’.
Ain’t got no need t’ pray.

Yer mighty quiet, Ernie.
Th’ cat done got yer tongue?
Now you’ll forget th’ missus
Soon as yer line is flung.

That’s Blindman’s Knob we’re climbin’
--nearly there, by jiggered!
We both can get t’ baitin’
quicker than I figgered.

Doggone it! Nothin’s happnin’…
I’m pushin’ on th’ brake!
Good Lawd! We are a headin’
straight for Kahoochee Lake!”

Now Deacon Joe wuz fixin’
fer Sunday’s meetin’ when
he heard a loud commotion
an’ shoutin’, cursin’ men.

He scurried through the meadow
an’ down the slipp’ry bank
in time t’ see Lyle’s pick-up
jes’ sinkin’ like a tank.

The two men thrashed an’ hollered
t’ save their drownin’ souls.
Out there among the rushes
Joe found their fishin’ poles.

Joe cast an’ hooked Lyle’s britches
an’ as he reeled him in,
Lyle snagged Ernie’s suspenders;
he stretched ‘em mighty thin!

Two wet an’ red-faced anglers
flopped on Kahoochee’s shore.
They thanked the Lord in Heaven
t’ be on land once more.

“Well fellas, I’ll be headin’
back over t’ th’ church.
Guess you’ll be comin’ with me
since yer left in th’ lurch.”

Joe hooked one arm through Ernie’s,
th’ other one through Lyle’s.
folks saw that passel comin’
An’ they broke into smiles.

Down front, right near th’ altar
Ernie caught his missus.
A worm crawled down her cheek as
he laid on the kisses.

A humbled Lyle and Ernie
both took to repentin’.
Th’ preacher let ‘em finish
then did his commentin’.

“This here’s an illustration
of truth y’all have heard.
Ol’ Deacon Joe is righteous
an’ listens t’ God’s Word.

‘An when he sees a sinner
a-drownin’ in his ways
old Joe’ll go a fishin’
th’ dyin’ soul t’ save.

Some folks don’t meet th’ Savior
While sittin’ in a pew.
They hafta git reminded
a’ what God’s grace can do.

So boys, keep up yer fishin’.
But ever’ now an’ then,
instead o’ snaggin’ catfish
go fishin’ fer some men.”



“The fruit of the uncompromisingly righteous is a tree of life, and he who is wise captures human lives for God, as a fisher of men--he gathers and receives them for eternity.” Proverbs 11:30 (AMP)



Catrina is hosting Fiction Friday today at her blog Speak to the Mountain. I hope you will pay her blog a visit, or better yet, join us!

One Day's Worth of Love

"Be kindly affectioned one to another
with brotherly love;
in honour preferring one another." Romans 12:10 (KJV)

Two year old Claire and five year old Noah have had their share of spats lately. I am amazed at how competitive they are, especially considering their age and gender differences. What starts as taunting can soon erupt into all-out war.

Their mom and dad have very specific consequences for unkind behavior:

Hitting or pushing = time out, facing the wall
Taking toys away = loss of the privilege of playing with that toy
Teasing or aggravating = separation from each other (-interesting that this works!)
Using unkind words = say something kind/loving

Saturday evening I helped with crafts at a family Valentine party held at our church. The children made valentines for a family member or friend, then enclosed a customized “coupon” as a gift. I explained all of this to Noah, who had just finished making a valentine for Mom and Dad. He then sat pondering what to write on his coupon. Finally, he wrote, “I will love Claire for…”

“Oh, that’s a good one, Noah. Are you going to love her for one whole week?”

“A year!” he exclaimed, but quickly changed his mind, “…or maybe a day.”

Along with the other adults in the craft room I tried to stifle my snickers.

In the end his coupon read, “I will love Claire for 1 day.”

I admire Noah’s childish honesty, knowing that even one day is no small commitment. Sure, a day doesn’t sound like much when compared to the week I suggested, or to Noah’s grand aspirations of a year, but I’m guessing that keeping that promise for an entire day will be mighty tough!

“Be kindly affectioned to one another with brotherly love; in honor preferring one another.” This is no mushy Valentine sentiment, but a command concerning our brothers and sisters in Christ. In fact, John 13:35 says that this is how others will know that we are Christians -by the love we show toward one another.

If I am honest I must admit, like Noah, that I struggle in this area. I am not always as patient or tenderhearted with my brothers and sisters in Christ as I should be. I sometimes insist on my own way, and I don’t always share. I can say hurtful things, sometimes in the form of gossip...and the list goes on.


I think I will borrow Noah’s idea and write my Father a Valentine coupon:

VALENTINE COUPON To: My Father God
Redeemable For: loving my brothers and sisters for 1 day
Note #1: Coupon may be redeemed as often as needed
Note #2: I can't do this without your help!
Signed: Your child, Sharlyn

Yvonne is hosting Monday Manna today at My Back Door.

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.