Free Flash by Rachel Anne Ridge Page A

somehow carried me. It was unexplainable.
    It happened when the old clock radio next to my bed clicked on at a time no one had set it for. As I struggled to figure out why the radio was on at this strange hour, a song by Fernando Ortega began to play. “Jesus, King of Angels” poured over me like warm honey. That’s the only way I can describe it. I weighed a thousand pounds and could not move as the words gently dripped down into my soul and pooled there.
    The lyrics reminded me that the infinite God of the universe is mindful of each sparrow that falls. My baby. Oh, my little one. He was mindful of all the anxious thoughts that filled me, and He would be with me and keep me in His peace. The final notes of the guitar faded.
    Tears, and more tears. My pillow was soaked with them. I lay in the predawn gray hours and ached for the baby I was about to deliver, the one I would never get to know. I dreaded the hours, days, and weeks that were to come. And yet my heart replayed the song hundreds of times as the dark days passed, a reminder that His presence was with me, even when I could not feel Him or understand the whys.
    There was a hint of a promise that one day I would again rise to speak the goodness of His name, and there was comfort, even in my ashes. The recurring melody pulled me those last few feet into the shelter that was just beyond me. I was warm and safe and dry, even in the midst of hurting.
    Just like Flash on that cold, icy night.

    I went to the window, which was now glazed with a fine sheet of ice. Through it, I could see the amber glow of the stall lights shining through the darkness and spilling onto the frozen ground beyond. And I knew in my heart that I was being pulled close once again.
    Psalm 91:1-2 says,
    Those who live in the shelter of the Most High
    will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
    This I declare about the L ORD :
    He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
    he is my God, and I trust him.
    I tucked in tightly under His shadow. Chose to trust in His care. Leaned into His comfort.
    Shelter.
    Sanctuary.
    Refuge.
    God’s presence is always with us, even when we can’t feel or see Him. Even when we can’t understand our circumstances. And though we might try a million other ways to fill our voids and find shelter from our storms, there is no substitute for the real thing. Only God can be our true source of refuge.
    How many times do we stand outside in the cold when shelter is so close at hand? Sometimes all it takes is a few more steps   —and then we are in His arms, encircled in His care and carried by His comfort.
    He has all the fresh towels and blankets we need.
    Know where to find refuge.
    True sanctuary is found in God alone.

It was early morning when Bridgette called. After the formal chitchat about how-are-the-kids-and-how-is- Hay -soos (eye roll), she got to her point.
    “I’ve got a wonderful opportunity for your talents,” she said. “Please pardon my huffing and puffing. I’m trying to get my power walk in while I talk.”
    “No problem,” I replied. I was still in my bathrobe, but that wouldn’t keep me from discussing business. I poured a second cup of coffee and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie, the breakfast of champions.
    It seemed that she and Steve had been hired to design and oversee the finish-out of a corporate building in Fort Worth, a project that would include a restaurant and call center.
    “This would be per -fect for you and Tom,” Bridgette remarked with enthusiasm. “It’s just one big, blank canvas, and your creativity will make it come to life. It needs custom finishes, artwork, signage, and furniture. And, by the way, we’d like to hire you to head up the FF&E.”
    Bridgette continued on, discussing issues and describing her vision for the space, her effusive voice filling my ear. But I wasn’t following it. I was still stuck on “FF&E.” FF&E? Never heard of it. Were they actual letters, or a word spelled effeffeny ? I didn’t