The Chronicles of Janie

Secrets. Everyone wants them. Not the nasty, gossipy kind, but the deliciously thrilling kind. Secret thoughts, secret places - things shared only with the trees and the wind. I am feeling a bit nostalgic tonight, so pardon me as I take a look back at some of my secret places. I had many secret places as a child. I delighted in the thought that I, and only I, knew where to find them. Of course, looking back, I am sure that others had found them before me. There are not many places on a 30+ acre farm that go unexplored by a family of adventurous children. But, at the time, they were my secrets, and I guarded them zealously. A lot of our land is covered in a bewildering growth of cedar trees. One day, as I was crouching, ducking, and dodging through the dense, low-growing cedar branches, I came upon a lovely little clearing. It was carpeted in brilliant green moss, and if I stood in the very center and looked up, I could see a patch of clear sky. It became my secret place. I did not...

OK, this is weird! Why did this randomly re-post? 'Beep! Beep! Beep!' I rolled over, pawed blearily at the snooze button on my watch, and the morning debate began. To get up, or not to get up? Sleeping in sounded amazing, but I knew I probably wouldn't be able to focus on my devotions once everyone else was awake and stirring. I got up, and I had no sooner stepped out the door, Bible in hand, than I was glad I had decided to get out of bed. It was light, but the sun couldn't truly have been called 'up' yet. The world was illuminated by that early morning half-light that lends an air of other-worldly mystery to everyday objects. I walked along the pristinely swept sand of the walkway. My feet marred its smoothness, leaving behind bare footprints to be erased by the hustle and bustle that would take place later in the day. I turned off at the orange guest house, and rustled through the dew spangled grass that grew right up to the edge of the veranda. I sat do...

"How are you?"  Have you ever struggled to answer that question? I'm really glad that no-one has asked me lately, because I would have had a difficult time answering. In all honesty, I feel as if someone has chucked a huge bundle of spiritual and emotional junk in my lap, and, frankly, I'm not quite sure what to do with it. My glowing self-image has been marred, and I've come to realize that I'm not quite the great Christian I was beginning to view myself as. It's been a rather rude awakening. Or perhaps I should say re-awakening. To start with, I experienced a violent attack of discontent over my status as a very single girl. This was a first for me, and when it descended without warning from the blue, it took me totally by surprise. I am tough. I'm not emotional, I'm not romantic, and I don't understand people who are. I've taken pride in that fact. I've mentally looked down on the emotional romantics I've met. In fact, I...

A gusty wind fluttered the cloak of the lone figure standing at the crossroads. It toyed with the loose strands of hair around her face, and brought her the scents of rain and grass. The lonesome music of the wind-swept pines whispered all around her as she looked out over the twinkling lights of a small town. She watched as, one by one, the lights blinked out. Quiet, innocent people were going to their beds down there, but sleep was not for her. She knew that she had become a legend to the people of the scattered towns. She was the guardian, the night-walker, the one who stood between them and some overshadowing dread they dared not name. Now she stood, silent and alone in a rapidly darkening world, with the crossing of four roads beneath her feet. North, South, East, and West...the possibilities were endless. She knew that adventures and danger lay along each gloomy path, but as she felt the steady strength rising up from her booted feet, she knew that she was ready to go wherever...