The Strange Ways of God and Writers
“Well, it’s clear things have changed a bit since I was last here.” Miss Kate Hamilton glanced around the long, narrow alcove decorated like an old-fashioned porch and smiled as she took a seat in the lone rocking chair. For a few seconds, she examined the odd wall in front of her that seemed to project the image of a prairie horizon, then shook her head and sighed. “I’m not like to make heads or tails out of it all even yet, but I’m told I’m brought here today to talk to—” She made a little uncertain motion with her hand. “—all of ye—wherever ye’re watching—about the strange ways God uses to bring His purposes to pass.”
“Ach, it’s true enough, for all that, and I’ve proved it for myself. Years given over to asking in my own heart whether God’s plans for me were spent. A trip to town that was none of my own making. An all but aimless walk to seek out what I knew was a senseless hope. And all of it came together to bring me—” She stopped and bit her lips together, but a soft light still shone in her eye as she glanced back into the shadowed hallway, toward the door she had first exited.
“But I’m not to tell all of that. Only to say that God answered my prayers and questions far beyond what I could even dream. Ye’re to read the story if ye want to know more. It was published last year in a collection called Everything, and now it’s here on its own with the same title. It’s only available through the author’s own store as yet, but she’ll work to put it in other places as soon as she’s able. And if ye want a chance to read it for free, I’m to offer it as soon as I tell this story.”
Miss Kate’s eyes twinkled as she let them run over the wide screen in front of her.
“Ye see, I’ve been told how the spark of my story came, and it’s as much proof as anything of the mysterious ways of the Lord. It was brought to her at a writing camp, she says, though she assures me the girls who came there had better to eat than beans and jerky. I don’t understand it all yet, but one day the conversation happened something like this…
Writer #1: Winter is on its way! We just saw our first robins!
Writer #2: I thought robins came in spring?
Writer #1: Depends on where ya live! Down south, we get our robins in the fall.
Writer #2: Ahhh. We northerners are losing our robins.
Writer #3: I'm slowly watching my beautiful robins disappear.
Writer #1: But just know that they're being thoroughly enjoyed in Texas!
Writer #3: As long as you take good care of them.
Writer #1: Oh, I will! I'll send them safely back up north next spring.
Writer #2: Thank you.
Writer #3: It’s appreciated.
“And somehow in God’s own plan and the unpredictable mind of a writer, the seed of my own story was planted. Yet somehow she says that’s not even the strangest way she’s been given a story idea.” Miss Kate shook her head with a bemused smile. “But that’s where this next piece comes in. She’s made a quiz for ye to try to match some of her other stories with the idea that started them. She’ll place it somewhere here so ye can find it. And if ye match at least five out of the ten, ye can send her an email at contact@quietwaterspress.com and she’ll send ye a code to get a copy of my story for free. Also, she apologizes that she couldn’t put the code into the quiz itself to make things simpler, but she’s searched everywhere and couldn’t find a way to manage it without paying an arm and a leg—I rather hope she was exaggerating a bit about that.”
“I believe that’s all I’m to tell ye, except that her new serial starts on October 4th, so she’ll show ye where to find it if ye’re interested. And if ye were reading it before and haven’t seen the update from this Friday, check to make sure it didn’t end up in some hidden folder after the break.”
The Chronic Warrior Chronicles
“Now, I’ve a hundred things to do, so I’ll be going back to them.” Miss Kate rose, and the door in the hallway opened for her. The lights in the long alcove slowly faded, and the screen went black.
