“For I know the plans I
have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to
give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah
29:11
I’ve always loved this
verse. But it’s hard to remember the truth of it when you’re stuck in the
middle of a disaster.
For the first
twenty-five years of my life I wanted one thing: a husband, home of my own, and
a family. To me the three are entwined. In May, 2009 I walked down the aisle
and thought I had it. A man who appeared to adore me, got along with my family,
had a bright future in his chosen field, and I was willing to follow him
anywhere. Even to New York, the last place this country girl ever wanted to
live.
Then it all blew up in
my face. I was two hundred and twenty miles form home, in a town where I knew
no one, and my dream turned into a nightmare. I had this verse on a plaque
which I kept on the dresser. I spent hours pouring my heart out to a man who
was the opposite of what I thought I was getting, hours pouring my heart out to
God. Hours crying and demanding to know why I couldn’t have my dream.
The following January
we moved even further from home. This Southern belle moved to Long Island,
hoping and praying things would get better. Things got worse. They escalated,
in fact, to the point where I had to call the police.
Even as every woman’s
worst nightmare unfolded, my God had a plan to protect and prosper me. In 2001
I discovered message boards on the Internet, and made a friend on Long Island.
God, in his mercy and provision, put me fifteen minutes from my friend. Her
parents sheltered me until mine could arrive.
But it was over. Two
weeks later I left out of fear for my safety and life. I tried for a year to
put things back together and give him another chance.
I was angry, offended,
and wanted nothing to do with God for over a year. I was on thin ice for
awhile. And it was lonely. But he drew me back to him. Convinced me Jeremiah
29:11 is still true. Gave me new dreams that have taken me to places I never
could have imagined I’d be.
I’m a novelist. Before
those new dreams took root my words dried up. I wrote nothing for close to a
year. It hurt to not write. Then, on what would have been my third wedding
anniversary the words came back. A novel poured out of me that summer and became
the story of my heart, with a wounded hero looking for redemption. God’s
fingerprints are all over this space opera universe.
I once again believe
with all my heart his plans for me are good, to give me hope and a future.
(Here’s the excerpt, and fits
with the theme of the post. I poured a lot of my journey back to wholeness into
A’yen.)
He leaned against the
wall, back of his head touching the cool metal. Dr. Hart brushed his arm. “You
look a little lost.”
First
step to trusting her was talking to her. “I don’t have a purpose anymore.
Everything I used to do no longer exists.”
She took his hand,
rubbed her thumb across the top. “Not true, A’yen. You know about stars, and
now I’m going to teach you about archaeology. There’s a lot to learn and you
only have a month.”
She released his
hand and held her empty one out to him, palm up. First he stared at her hand,
then her eyes. Everything in him missed physical contact with another person.
Hell, missed sexual contact. The way it made him feel. The way he made his
partner feel. He’d never been with a human woman on his own terms before and he
wanted it. Really wanted it.
Master’s voice
whispered in his memory. Patience. Desire alone wasn’t enough to sustain a
relationship or reveal his secrets. Master could have taken him at any point,
but he never did. It must be mutual, or he really was nothing more than a
slave.
He placed his hand
in hers. Green eyes flicked to his hand, the storm gray cuff around his wrist,
then up to his face. As if she knew what she asked of him, and what it cost him
to say yes. “Let’s get one thing clear. I am not a lab rat to be molded to your
specifications.”
ABOUT AUTHOR RACHEL LEIGH SMITH
Rachel Leigh Smith is a
romance writer, a geek, and a Southern belle. She lives in Louisiana with a
half-crazed calico named Zoe. When not adding words to an SFR novel she’s
reading paranormal romance or crafting while watching some type of SF on TV.
She’s still unpublished, but hopefully not for long.
Rachel also blogs at www.rachelleighsmith.com and hangs out on Facebook.
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