Today’s a new day! I have been working on a new book. Instead of going the usual route of publishing a book, I thought I would share it online. Hopefully you will enjoy the story.
Chapter 1 – The House on Joy Lane
The small town of Hope Isles was not the kind of place where secrets stayed secret for very long.
When a new face appeared, people noticed.
When that new face bought the old Wilson house on Joy Lane, people really noticed.
The Wilson house had sat empty for nearly five years. It was a beautiful white farmhouse with a wraparound porch, seven bedrooms, and enough land for a large family. Most people assumed whoever bought it would arrive with a spouse, children, grandparents, and perhaps a dog or two.
Instead, a single young man moved in.
His name was James.
Nobody knew much about him.
He attended church every Sunday. He rode an old blue bicycle around town. He waved at everyone. He smiled often. He seemed genuinely happy.
And perhaps most unusual of all, he appeared to have no interest in talking about himself.
One Monday morning, James walked into the Sit Awhile Diner.
The bell above the door jingled.
June, the longtime waitress, looked up from filling coffee cups.
“Well, good morning,” she said. “You’re that fellow who bought the Wilson place.”
James smiled.
“I suppose I am.”
June laughed.
“Most folks would’ve started with their name.”
“My apologies. I’m James.”
“June.”
She pointed toward a booth by the window.
“Sit wherever you’d like.”
James settled into the booth.
June brought him a menu.
“You’ll want the special.”
“What is it?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you’re hungry.”
James grinned.
“I’m hungry.”
“Then you’ll want the special.”
A few minutes later she returned with eggs, biscuits, bacon, and a steaming cup of coffee.
James bowed his head before eating.
June noticed.
So did several customers.
Not because praying was unusual in Hope Isles.
But because James seemed completely unconcerned with whether anyone saw him doing it.
After breakfast, he walked to the register.
June folded her arms.
“So tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Why does a single man need a seven-bedroom house?”
James chuckled.
“I was wondering how long it would take someone to ask.”
June smiled.
“About three days.”
James looked out the window toward Main Street.
“Let’s just say I believe God has a purpose for every room.”
Before June could ask another question, the door opened.
In walked Joe the mailman.
Joe carried a stack of letters under one arm.
“Morning, June.”
Then he noticed James.
“Oh, you’re the bicycle guy.”
“The bicycle guy?”
“That’s what half the town calls you.”
James laughed.
“I’ve had worse nicknames.”
Joe sat down across from him without being invited.
Small-town rules.
“So where’d you come from?”
“A little bit of everywhere.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“It answers it enough.”
Joe narrowed his eyes.
“You talk like a preacher.”
“I hope not. Pastor Timothy already
has that job.”
As if on cue, the diner door opened again.
Pastor Timothy stepped inside.
A tall man with silver hair and kind eyes.
“Someone talking about me?”
June shook her head.
“Speak of the pastor and he
appears.”
Pastor Timothy spotted James.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.”
Soon the four sat together.
Conversation flowed easily.
They talked about the weather.
The fishing pier.
The upcoming town festival.
Then Pastor Timothy asked the question everyone else wanted answered.
“James, what brought you to Hope Isles?”
The table grew quiet.
James leaned back.
For a moment, he seemed to search for the right words.
Finally, he said softly,
“I was praying about where God wanted me next.”
“And?” Joe asked.
“And Hope Isles kept coming to mind.”
June laughed.
“That’s not exactly a detailed plan.”
“No,” James admitted. “But sometimes God gives directions one step at a time.”
Pastor Timothy nodded thoughtfully.
“I’ve found that to be true.”
As the conversation continued, nobody noticed the elderly woman sitting alone in the corner booth.
Nobody except James.
When he stood to leave, he walked over to her table.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
She looked surprised.
“Good morning.”
“May I pay for your breakfast?”
The woman blinked.
“Why would you do that?”
James smiled.
“Because someone once showed me kindness when I needed it.”
Before she could object, he paid the bill and headed for the door.
Joe watched through the window as James climbed onto his bicycle.
“That’s an unusual young man.”
June nodded.
“Very.”
Pastor Timothy stared thoughtfully toward Joy Lane.
“I have a feeling,” he said quietly, “that James didn’t come to Hope Isles by accident.”
As James pedaled away beneath the morning sun, the empty rooms of the old Wilson house waited silently.
And somewhere deep inside his heart, James knew something the rest of the town did not.
He hadn’t bought the house merely to live in it.
He had bought it for a purpose.
A purpose that would soon begin to unfold.
To Be Continued….~OC
The Blessed Overcomer 
Leave a comment