Bonus Bookshelf

ESTHER ISLAND

As John Bailey peered across the sparkling waters at the sight that lay before him, he couldn't help but feel a sense of joy. An island of rich green hues was seated upon a sea of many colours. They ranged from turquoise, to emerald, to navy. His eyes drank in the sight as he held onto the railing. Esther Island. His new home. At least, he hoped it would be. He felt some trepidation as he wondered whether the islanders would welcome him. At least, he did bear an invitation of sorts. A former islander, who had moved to the mainland, had approached the mission requesting that a missionary be sent to the island. The man, Dona, had become a Christian and wanted his fellow islanders to hear the Gospel too. Now, Dona accompanied John. He was returning to his home and would act as an intermediary.

Moderate winds filled the sails and brought the boat to a welcoming cove. Dona joined John at the bow as the Sailors lowered the anchor. "Home," he gestured broadly, "finally home. And I must thank you once more, John Bailey, for agreeing to accompany me." The tender was lowered to the water. The men's luggage was rowed to shore first. "Don't thank me Dona; thank the Lord, for He has made this possible. But I am more than glad to help you my brother." Dona smiled fondly at the younger man. They were indeed brothers, united by their faith in Christ. In the flesh, they were not, and couldn't have looked more different: Dona was broad shouldered with a shock of red hair and matching beard; whereas John Bailey's hair was midnight black and he bore the look of a scholar. Indeed, he was one, for he was a scholar of God's Word and he would need his knowledge now as he embarked on this new adventure. Yet, not mere knowledge he often mused, but daily counsel and wisdom from the Holy Spirit.

It was such a man who was rowed across the mild waves once the tender returned. A man who sought above all else to obey his Lord and to take the Good News wherever he was sent.

*******

The luggage was not alone on the beach. A large group of men had gathered, no doubt as soon as the boat was spotted. Boats came only sporadically to Esther Island. The island was far enough away from the mainland to be considered difficult to get to. Rogue waves and tempests also served to keep visitors at bay. The oldest man in the group waded into the shallows and scrutinized the men in the tender. "Dona, is it you?" The man helped pull the tender up onto the sand." It is you isn't it? When I saw that fiery head out on the water, I said, "It must be Dona."

"Yes, yes, it is me, Father." He grasped the older man's hand."I have brought a friend too. John Bailey" Dona's father nodded at John. He grasped his hand too, so John felt relieved. He'd been quietly observing the exchange and the islanders themselves. They wore homespun clothing and their feet were bare. Some of the islanders had red hair like Dona's but others had dark or light colored hair. To John's refined tastes, it seemed rather thick and coarse. Their accent sounded strange and other-wordly to his ears. Thankfully, they spoke the same language as he, so he took heart as he followed the group along an oft used pathway. Dona spoke in turns to his father and to John. "I have been welcomed back, even though I have been gone for some years now. You too, are welcome to stay, my friend." The other men in the group were questioning Dona, so John felt at liberty to pray in his heart and to observe the surrounding scenery. It was a fruitful and well watered isle. Many attractive plants and trees lined the pathway. Berries and flowers tempted him with their pleasantness, but he dared not pick anything for fear of causing offense. At the crest of the hill, Dona turned to John and pointed to a settlement in a valley below them. "There it is. My village: Marden. There are two others: one to the north and one to the east. On the west side, there is a shared harbour and some fishing huts." As they descended into the valley, John took note of the orderly vegetable gardens. He recognized potatoes, carrots and onions. He could see why the islanders might be content to live out their days in this apparent paradise. And yet the Spirit whispered to him of the emptiness of the human hearts on the island. Beautiful surroundings could never satisfy the deep longings of the soul.

*******

Four years later.

Dona sat before his house one gentle Sunday morning. As was his habit, he was up early, enjoying time with the Lord. While he watched the sun's slow colourful journey, he couldn't help but think that Esther Island had truly become a paradise. Of course, there were struggles and difficulties, illness and pain. People still sinned. But God had been at work these last years and hearts and lives throughout the island had changed. His thoughts turned to his own father's salvation, how he had testified that the changes in Dona's life had caused him to reflect on his own. As he thought about God's goodness and mercy, Dona rejoiced. He heard Chara and the little ones stirring in the house and smiled. God had heard his prayers. Now married at the age of forty-one, Dona couldn't have been happier. His little boy Gwin was two and baby Lila only four months old. Life was busy and rather noisy; their bodies grew tired and sometimes they grumbled, but God's grace was sufficient. He sighed contentedly and rose to make a fire. Chara enjoyed her herbal tea and it aided her nursing. It didn't take long to put a simple breakfast together in the outdoor kitchen and the water was soon bubbling merrily. Chara appeared at the door, little Lila sleeping in her arms after her morning feed. Chara's long, dark hair was caught up in a simple ponytail. She wore no make-up and her long dress was plain, yet to Dona, she was exquisite. She walked over to him and placed one arm around him. Gwinn who was tugging at her skirt, stayed by her side. He already knew not to go near the fire. "I should be making breakfast Dona, but here you are again, serving me." Chara's heart filled with love for her red-headed husband. "But I thank you." Dona kissed her and began to pour the tea. "Little one woke up several times in the night. I got more sleep than you."

"Now don't make me jealous," teased Chara, "you know what I'd do for a full night's sleep." Little Gwin was already sitting in the mini chair Dona had made specially for him, so they joined him at the outdoor table."Bread Mama. Eat." Gwin said, getting straight to the point. Chara laughed. "Papa must pray first."

"He has the appetite of a man." Dona patted his son on the head proudly. He bowed his head and thanked the Lord for the lovely day and for their many blessings. When he lifted his head and looked around his simple table, his heart filled with gratitude once more. He handed Gwin a large piece of flatbread. If he had still been living on the mainland, he would probably have taken several photographs of the idyllic scene: his beautiful family, sitting under a thatched roof with lush greenery spread out before them and the turquoise water of the cove below. He'd built his house here, just a short distance from Marden, so he and Chara could watch the ever changing waters and be refreshed by cool breezes. Later on, they would walk to the small church which he and the other men of Marden had built. Chara's home village, Tormay, had just this year built their own place of worship. The villagers of Duane which was situated to the north, continued to meet at each others' houses. Moreover, Dona and a group of fishermen from all three villages had gotten together for a chapel raising. Now fishermen working on the western coast had a place of worship when away from home. Dona felt good about all the progress they'd made since that day four years ago when he came ashore with John Bailey.

"God is so good," Dona took Chara's hand in his and remembered the special way that the Lord had brought them together. He hadn't been looking for love or a wife when he had set off on the journey to Tormay with John Bailey. They'd stayed there for several months, during which time, they’d helped Dona's uncle and the other men fish. They’d worked hard, living out their faith and sharing the Gospel. Dona's uncle received the Lord first and seeing that he was the elder of Tormay, the villagers sat up and paid attention. His daughter Chara was one of them. She'd been listening quietly to the men's talk since their arrival. Her father's testimony persuaded her of her need for a Saviour. As Dona interpreted for John, she soaked in every word and was also struck by his gentle strength and kindness. She was in awe of John's knowledge and wisdom and was amazed by his love for the islanders. But it was to Dona that she directed her quiet questions until one precious evening when he helped lead her to Jesus.

"You are many nautical miles away, my love." Chara looked fondly at Dona. "Wishing you were at sea?"

"Oh no," laughed Dona, "I was remembering how we met. How you received Jesus and later how you said yes to me too." His eyes were sweet with memories as they met Chara's. "Do you remember the night of the jellyfish?"

She nodded, enjoying this special Sunday morning, "you mean, the day you saved me from the jellyfish?" They had been walking along the beach, getting to know one another. So many jellyfish lay scattered about that Dona had spontaneously and effortlessly lifted her in his arms carrying her out of harm's way. "That was the day I knew I wanted to always be in your arms."

"I didn't even feel the hot sand." Dona chuckled." I could have carried you all the way home. I love you Chara."

"I love you too."Chara smiled sweetly. Dona rose to take Lila. "Your arms need a rest." Chara quickly cleared the table and rinsed off their dishes. Gwin was playing happily in his sand pit. "Time to get ready for church." Said Dona. He carried the baby into the house for a nappy change. The three roomed cottage was small, but airy and bright. A stranger might have been taken aback by it's sparse simplicity. It housed no modern devices and no clutter, yet it was not cold. A driftwood shelf housed the family's Bibles and books and a vase of flowers graced the table. Wooden pegs held extra clothes and handmade curtains brightened the windows. Dona laid the sleepy little one on the bed and smiled. He loved his simple life and wouldn't go back to the mainland for anything: all the rush, noise, bells and whistles. Old -fashioned nappies, lamps and candles might be more work thought Dona as he placed the used nappy in a bucket, but at least he and his family weren't being sucked into worldliness.

Wearing the little ones in baby carriers, they walked under a fragrant canopy to gather with fellow believers and to hear the Word of the Lord.

"Do you ever wish you could live on the mainland again?" Chara asked Dona as they neared the church.

"Odd, I was just thinking about that." He turned to Chara. "No, I really don't. Life there was easier in some ways: just turning the lights on with a click or cooking on instant heat. But I don't miss the crime, immorality and spiritual decline. People glued constantly to their screens. Nope. I've got everything I need here." He placed his arm around Chara. "And you, my love?"

Chara breathed in the clean air and surveyed their pristine surroundings. She studied her husband's handsome face. "No, I don't want all those things." She paused, thoughtful. "But I can't help but feel sorry for all who live in that darkness."

Dona squeezed her hand, but he didn't comment. Truth be told, his wife's words had convicted him. In the midst of his own happiness and contentment, he hadn't been thinking of the lost on the mainland or further afield. Sure, he had been genuinely concerned for his own people, but that's as far as he'd got. Right away, he determined to at least pray for the lost souls who did not have the privilege of living on Esther Island.

*******

Villagers were gathering outside the church. There was chatting and laughter as children ran about in the sun. Everybody looked forward to the Sunday meeting and the communal meal that followed. Dona's mother Trina reached out for the baby. Smiling, Dona obliged her. Gwin had already toddled off to find his cousins. The fellowship began before church started and would last the whole day. Of course, they enjoyed each other's company throughout the week but Sunday would always be special.

At ten, John appeared, and smiling broadly at the sight of his church family, began to ring the little ship's bell. His young wife Mora was at his side, holding baby Jonah. The congregation filed in, each congregant stopping to greet the missionary and his bride. After a time of worship, John walked up to a simple wooden stand on which he laid his Bible. With God's help he continued to share the Gospel and teach them from God's Word. He'd recently finished a series on becoming holy. Today, he planned to begin a series on the end times, starting in Thessalonians and then he would work his way through Revelation. The believers needed to be reminded that the return of the Lord was near. As he preached, the Holy Spirit stirred a feeling of urgency in his heart. Having come from the mainland himself, he was very much aware of the dire state of the world, and of the desperate need for the Gospel message. As he surveyed the contented sheep who had been entrusted to his care, he wondered whether they would be able to grasp the full extent of the situation. They were so sheltered and protected here on Esther Island. What could they know of the world and it's ways? He prayed in his heart and remembered that the Holy Spirit could be relied upon to teach, so he focused on the Rapture. He explained that Jesus could return for His Bride at any moment, and he spoke of the need to be ready. He then addressed the question of what believers should be doing while waiting for the Lord's return and turned to the Gospels to remind them of the Great Commission: Go into all the world...

*******

John would have been pleased to know that the congregation was listening attentively to his sermon. Excitement for the Lord's return stirred amongst them. Not even a beautiful island like their own could compete with heaven. They were not excluded from life's trials and glimpses of a decaying world reached their shores from time to time. As for Dona, he sat deep in thought at the close of the sermon, while his heart beat with compassion for a dying world.

*******

"John," said Dona as they sat beneath a large shade tree eating their lunch, "you got me thinking about the mainland again." He gazed steadily at the horizon as he spoke. "Of course, the mission was a bright light, but everywhere else seemed to be in darkness and despair. I've been so happy and content here on the island, I'd nearly forgotten."

"It's easy to forget when you're living in these surroundings," agreed John. "We've still got some work to do here, but the greater harvest lies over those waters." He gestured to the ocean." He turned to face his good friend. "We need to pray for God's will, Dona. That's the best place to be: in His will."

Dona nodded as he watched the believers enjoying fellowship together. Chara and Mora were laughing about something while the children napped on a blanket nearby. What a pity that so many people did not know the joy that only Jesus could give.

*******

"Chara told me that your sermon made her think. She's going to be praying more for the people on the mainland." Mora told John that evening. She held baby Jonah against her shoulder and patted his tiny back.

"That's good to hear."John was encouraged by his congregations' response to today's sermon. Several people had asked him questions."What are your thoughts, my love?"John loved these alone moments with his wife. Mora may have grown up on the island, but she was a deep thinker, and wise for her age. From Marden, she had been one of the first islanders to accept Jesus and in Mora, John had been blessed with the perfect helpmeet.

"Well, from what you were saying, I understand that the Bible teaches that the Lord could return at any moment. In light of that, we should share the Gospel with anyone who will listen." Mora rocked gently in the rocking chair as the baby drifted off to sleep." If it hadn't been for your obedience John, I would probably still be lost. And without the best husband on the island." Her eyes met his shyly and she dipped her blond head to kiss little Jonah.

John's gaze rested lovingly on the two precious ones: gifts from God."God is so good. He led me here Mora, and by His grace I obeyed. You and Jonah are my greatest blessings after Him. And you are right, leading souls to the Lord must be our highest priority."

"Are there still islanders who need to hear the Gospel, John?" Mora was a daily witness to her husband's passion for the lost. She doubted that he had neglected any corner of Esther Island.

John looked thoughtful in the lamp's yellow glow. "I believe they have all heard it with their ears, but some remain who also need to hear with their hearts."

"And then there are the traders and occasional visitors," added Mora as she rose to lay Jonah in his crib.

"Always a needy soul who needs to hear." Agreed John. "Sometimes God sends them to us and sometimes we are sent to them."

Tired, but content after a long day of serving, they stood by the crib for a moment and admired their little son. John drew Mora close and prayed softly for God's will for them all.

*******

Esther Island appeared to have a rough cross shape, with Dona's home at Marden to the south. The village of Duane was situated on the northern point of the cross and this is where we will travel today.

The vegetation was a little more sparse there, but it was not an unpleasant place: the beaches were not pebbly. They were covered in white sand and there were many good spots from which to launch a fishing boat. The village was shaded by indigenous trees and as in the other villages, sheep and goats grazed on the hillsides.

One house, which was bigger than average, often served as a church meeting house. Dinny, his wife Hana and their five sons, Deta, Finn, Han, Mac and Reef made their home there. Dinny was the church elder and he and his family all served the Lord.

That same Sunday, Dinny led a Bible Study at his home. John traveled to Duane on a regular basis to teach the villagers, but in between, Dinny helped out. He opened his Bible and began to read from the book of Acts. The believers listened attentively to the account of the early church. "It reminds me of our own story here on Esther Island." Dinny mused."Of course, our numbers are fewer." He added. Yoni, a fisherman, nodded. "Yet the Lord still saw our need and brought the Good News to us so we too could be saved."

How good God is, reflected Dinny as he looked around the small group. To think that He had stooped down to help them. "I can't help but notice how close-knit the early church was and how they shared everything they had with each other," noted Dinny's wife Hana. Her silver hair glinted in the early morning sunlight. "Worldly goods didn't seem to have a hold on them." Hana had borne five sons, all of whom were gathered around God's Word that morning. She could only praise God as she understood how rich she and Dinny were in heavenly treasure.

"And they were preaching with boldness." Added Deta, her eldest."In the power of the Holy Spirit." He was a serious young man. Once, the only joy he'd known had been the excitement of reeling in a game fish or the thrill of a straining net. Now, God held first place in his heart and he yearned to be a fisher of men like those early disciples. Dinny looked with affection at Deta. He prayed that God would use the young man to draw many to Himself. Then, looking around the room at his other sons and each one present, he prayed the same for them. For himself. "We would do well to follow in their footsteps, wouldn't we? Let us pray now for His leading and power." A pleasant ocean breeze drifted in through the open windows as the believers bowed their heads. Deta laid his life down anew as he prayed. No matter what, he would obey God's call.

*******

"There's a boat in the cove."Chara called to Dona. She was busy cooking in the outdoor kitchen while the children napped. Dona was fixing nets on the other side of the cottage. "I see so." Dona studied the medium-sized craft. He didn't recognize it. As he watched, a lone figure lowered a dinghy to the water. "I'll go down to the beach and see who it is," decided Dona.

"Take care." Chara peered at the approaching small craft. "Could be anyone." Dona waved. "Probably just a trader. I'll be back soon." He walked quickly along the leafy trail. As he neared the cove, he heard the sound of the dinghy being dragged ashore. "Hullo," he called. A modern looking man of about thirty or so, looked up and returned the greeting. "Hi there," he said, "Good to meet a local. I'm Zane. Zane Preston. Going to be staying here for a while."

"I see." Dona raised an eyebrow. He didn't actually. Not many mainlanders visited the island and even fewer stayed.

"Tell me, where would be a good place to set up my yurt?" The man called Zane started to off load the dinghy and Dona goodnaturedly pitched in. "A yurt?" Dona placed what looked like a bag of tent poles and a cooler on the sand. "Can't say I've seen one of those."

Zane explained that they were actually pretty ancient and were rather like portable huts. He added that he would use his tent temporarily as erecting the yurt would take some doing on his own.

"Not to worry. I'll round up some help when you're ready." Zane looked quite shocked. The chatty stranger was silent for a bit. "You would? Well, that would be a big help. Thanks, er...?" He extended his hand awkwardly towards Dona. "Dona." The big man smiled. "And welcome. You all alone?" He looked towards the boat.

"Yup. Just me. Getting away from it all. Reducing my footprint, off-grid and green living. Left the girlfriend behind." He chuckled."She wouldn't survive without her phone, you know."

Dona smiled to himself as he helped off-load the rest of Zane's things. The stranger sure was an odd character. "So, where did you say I could pitch my tent?"Zane looked hopefully at Dona.

"There's a clearing a short distance from Marden. Shouldn't be a problem if you set up there." Let's carry what we can for now. We can come back for the rest later. I just need to stop by at home quickly on the way." Dona didn't want Chara to worry.

"Will my stuff be safe?" Zane looked concerned as he eyed the lush growth near the beach.

"No worries," Dona assured him. "No one will take it."

Zane looked as though he was having a hard time believing that anything left alone could be safe, but he followed Dona up the trail anyhow.

"So, what will you be doing while on the island?" Dona carried some luggage effortlessly, while Zane trailed a little way behind him.

"Writing articles, blogging. Who knows, maybe I'll write a book while I'm here. Should have plenty of time." The odd young man laughed. "All about living off-grid, that kind of thing. " He became quite animated as he explained how he had already tried living off grid back home. "Solar panels, chickens, composting toilets; you name it. I've tried them all. It's the way to go man. The only way to save the planet. You should give it a go."

"Sounds interesting." Dona tried not to laugh. The stranger sure was in for a surprise. "Well, here's my home."

Chara had been watching their ascent from her lookout and stood waiting in the garden. Dona made the introductions and quickly explained the need to return to the beach.

"Why don't the two of you have something to eat and drink first," she offered hospitably. Dona led the way to the table and Chara went to fetch the food she'd been keeping warm in the coals. She placed bread on the table along with the coffee pot. "I'll go check on the children." Dona served the fish and vegetables and poured coffee.

His guest thanked him, but seemed quieter than usual. He recovered his voice after a few sips of coffee. "I must be really dumb or something. There I was, telling you all about the simple life and meanwhile, back at the ranch, you're a pro." He chuckled awkwardly. "Still, have you thought of solar panels?"

"No need," Dona assured Zane as he enjoyed the tasty meal, "We manage fine without them." Zane looked around him. He took in the neat cottage and yard and the well organized kitchen and as he glanced at his capable host, he imagined that he coped very well without modern conveniences.

Dona stood up. "Let's return to the beach now shall we?" Zane nodded and thanked Dona and also asked him to thank Chara on his behalf. He hadn't eaten such delicious food in a while. In about thirty minutes, all of Zane's camping goods were deposited in the clearing. Dona stayed to help pitch the tent and stacked the rest of the goods neatly. Zane couldn't thank him enough. As he watched the big red-headed guy stride off in the direction of his home, he realized that he had found a possible gold-mine of information about off-grid living. Something else also caused him to pause in his preparations: the islander had gone out of his way to be helpful. He wondered what made him show so much kindness to a complete stranger.

*******

The talk was all about the stranger as the fishermen set out to sea the next morning. "How long did he say he was going to stay?" Lee pulled hard at the oars. "Don't know as it's a good thing, outsiders coming to stay here." Dona nodded. They had reached the calm beyond the breakers. "He didn't say. Sounds like he plans on staying for a bit though. I'm in two minds about it. On one hand, it's a chance to share the Gospel; on the other, there are risks." The men threw their nets out as they spoke. Lee agreed. "Mainlanders sure have some strange ways."

"They do." Dona recalled his stay on the mainland."But there is good too. And there are Christians."

"And this guy? Would you say he's a believer?"

"Guess I wouldn't." Dona looked toward the beach as he thought about the stranger. "Must be a reason why he's here though."

As they headed back later with their catch, Dona prayed for Zane and for opportunities to share the Gospel with him.

*******

Several of the men offered to help erect Zane's yurt, so Dona made his way to the clearing later in the day to tell him. When he neared the clearing, he spotted Zane sitting in his tent, typing away on his laptop. Dona cleared his throat and the typing stopped. "Going to have to charge it on the boat soon," Zane said by way of greeting. "Good to see you again. I was starting to feel quite lonely." Dona took a seat on a nearby stump, not wanting to trust his weight to the flimsy looking camping chair. "I came up to tell you that some of the men offered to help you with that yurt of yours. Just say when you want it up."

"That would be great," enthused Zane. "The manufacturers recommend at least four people to set it up."

"Well, we should get it up in no time then with six." Dona looked around the neat campsite and complemented Zane on his efficiency. He noted the fire pit and portable sink. "Did you find your way to the spring all right?"

"Yes. Everything is well sign posted and the trail was easy to follow. I even found the self-composting toilet."

"Good. We get a few visitors now and again, so we thought we'd make things a bit easier for them. Also, please don't hesitate to go to Marden for supplies. You'll find several stalls selling produce and other goods. If you need milk, just come get some from me."

"Thank you" Zane popped open his cooler and removed a couple of cold drinks. "Appreciate it. To be honest, I'm not used to people being so helpful." He said as he handed one to Dona, "Why would you bother with a complete stranger?"

"It's what the Lord says we must do." Dona explained simply, smiling at the younger man. "Glad to be able to help."

Zane took a sip of his drink and sat quietly for a moment. "You're a Christian?"

Dona nodded.

"Well, you're the first one I've met who is living out his faith. Most folks who say they're Christians sure don't act like it."

Dona visited a bit longer with Zane, who quizzed him about the island. Dona offered to give him a tour of Marden and to take him with when he went to the west coast. As he walked home, he pondered what the younger man had said and asked God for help to keep obeying His Word.

*******

The following day, Dona showed Zane around Marden. He was proud of his village. He introduced the mainlander to the stall-holders, his father, who was the village elder and to the doctor. "I can't believe how self-sufficient you all are." Enthused Zane on the way back to the clearing."It's not primitive like I thought it would be. All you need is the internet and a few phones and you'll be set."

"Well, I don't see myself as being self-sufficient," Dona chuckled goodnaturedly. "I need God too much for that. And as for modern technology, we feel it would spoil things around here. We enjoy life without it."

They'd reached the clearing and Zane gestured to the tent where he'd stowed his laptop. "It's not all bad you know. People use technology for good everyday. I'm not religious, but I've seen online Bibles and other stuff, like charities online."

Dona nodded. He had to agree that the more Bibles there were out there, the better. But he still doubted that modern ways would benefit the island and he told Zane so.

"Well, you won't be able to keep it away forever." Zane's tone was confident. "And it will be a good thing. Speaking of technology, I'd best go get this thing charged up." He thanked Dona for the tour and went off cheerfully at the bidding of his device. Dona took a seat on the tree stump and spent some time in prayer. The outsider's words had unsettled him. Surely they could continue to live as they always had? he asked the Lord. Once more he prayed for God's will for himself and for Esther Island.

*******

John offered to take Zane along on his visits to Tormay and Duane. They spent a weekend in each village. Zane opted to explore, take photos and write notes while John preached. Zane returned full of enthusiasm for both the islanders and the environment.

To Dona, Zane seemed like a typical tourist, but his concern deepened, when he took Zane along with him to the fishing station a couple of weeks later. "We'll stay for a few days and camp on the beach. I have a boat down there and we'll be doing some fishing. I'll show you the salting and drying process too."

The west coast of the island was truly stunning. Lush growth tumbled to the shore where pristine beaches framed paua shell coloured water.

"Wow! This is incredible! Why don't you live here?" Zane's eyes were on stalks and he kept stopping to take another photo.

"Too much jungle." Dona explained as he led the way to a group of huts. There were drying racks too and several boats tied up high on the beach. A couple of men were hanging fish on racks.

"Man, this would be the perfect spot for an eco-camp." Zane enthused. "Tents, or maybe thatch. Bio-gas would work. And solar of course. Great for the environment, you know. Tourists could learn about drying fish, get to know the culture, hikes, that sort of thing." He took a flurry of photos. "I've got contacts. I'll send the pics, they'll be here in a flash."

"No." Dona stopped walking and turned to Zane, his face bleak. "We don't need one of those eco places here. Esther Island is our home. Not a tourist attraction." Controlling his anger, he continued to walk. "Let's go. I've got fishing to do."

Zane followed meekly, not getting why the big man was so rattled. Surely he didn't think he could keep things the way they were forever? His stay on the east coast of the island only served to cement his opinion that Esther Island needed to be shared with the world.

*******

Dona's ever present smile seemed to have left him as he knocked on John's door. He and Zane had returned from the west coast. The fishing had been good, but Dona still felt troubled. Could their beloved island soon be changed forever? John took one look at his friend and bid him come into his little office.

"Was the fishing so bad?"John prodded gently.

"God is good." Ascertained Dona. "No shortage of fish. Just a shortage of peace in my heart." He then told John about Zane's suggestion. "What would something like that mean for the island? For the fishermen?"

John sighed. "Change. Money, though that's a cold comfort. On the bright side, if it's done carefully, it might not do too much harm. People who stay at eco-camps aren't looking for what they have back home."

"Maybe." Dona said uncertainly. "Hopefully it doesn't come to that." He stared pensively through the window.

"Zane also told me that an artist friend of his is planning to settle in Duane for a while. Apparently she asked him to find her a place to rent. His glowing reports are attracting more people, it seems. I wonder what influence they'll have on the islanders, but at least we can share the Gospel with them."

John nodded."He asked me whether she'd be able to rent. I spoke to Dinny. He has an extra cottage.I can see why you're worried though. Outsiders bring wordly ways with them." He paused."But also opportunities for God to work."

"There's something else.The more time I spend with Zane, the more unsettled I feel. Knowing that there are so many people like him back on the mainland and in the world...."He shook his head. "God is calling me John. To the mainland." He felt relieved now, having voiced what was in his heart.

John studied his friend thoughtfully. "I can tell that you have been praying about this Dona. Does Chara know?"

Dona shook his head. "Not yet. I will speak with her tonight. I have no idea what she will say."

"Where will you go? To the mission? I can write to the Principal for you." John would do all he could to help his friend.

"Yes, please. I believe I need to study. God will show whether I am to be a missionary or a pastor. Either way, I must spread the Gospel. The Lord has placed an urgency in my heart and I must go."

Sadness and joy swelled in John's heart as he listened to his friend. "I will write. And I will pray. It won't be easy friend. But you know that."

Both men had tears in their eyes when Dona left to go home. John promised to be praying as his friend delivered his news to his wife.

*******

Dona's heart ached as he walked into the cottage. It seemed cozier than ever. How he loved their little home! And how he would miss it. Chara was nursing the little one and Gwin was playing with his blocks. Her eyes were closed and Dona wondered whether she was praying. Dona picked Gwin up and softly laid his hand on Chara's cheek. "What needs to be done?" He asked."Can I get supper?"

"No need." She touched his hand. "There are leftovers from lunch and a pot of coffee warming."

"I'll serve." Grateful for something to do, he readied the simple meal and poured some milk for Gwin. Chara seemed quieter than usual while they ate and afterwards as they prepared for the children's bedtime. Once they were settled, Dona poured coffee and invited Chara to join him at the outside table. "How are you doing my love?" He asked tenderly. "You seem preoccupied."

"Just worried about you, is all. You've been looking rather burdened lately." She took his hand in hers. "Is everything all right?"

He squeezed her hand and took a deep breath. Softly he told her what was on his heart; how burdened he felt for the lost and how he was being called to the mainland. Chara listened quietly. Dona was grateful that she kept her hand in his. When she spoke at last, she didn't sound upset.

"I've been praying too, my love. God has been preparing my heart. I will go wherever you go. I want to share the Gospel too." She went to him then. Her strong husband had tears on his cheeks. "I love my home. But I love God more. Much more. And I love you."

*******

They talked about all of the potential obstacles and difficulties which lay ahead. Chara asked Dona about the city and she wondered how they would manage or make a living. Most of the questions didn't have an answer, so Dona suggested that they pray and that's what they did as they fell asleep in each other's arms.

*******

As Brin stood in the middle of the living area of her new home, she declared it to be perfect. The first thing she'd set up was her easel. There was plenty of natural light to paint by.

The cottage had two rooms. The toilet and shower were outside in a separate structure. Brin loved the vast sea views best. She'd chosen Duane precisely because of this. Now she could observe and paint the ocean to her heart's content. Seascapes were her thing, and she wanted to perfect her execution of waves and water in oils, her favourite medium.

Breakfast could wait, she decided, tying a headscarf over her short dark curls. She folded up her easel and grabbed a canvas and her toolbox which contained her oils, brushes, a jar of turps, rags and a small palette. The pathway down to the beach was just across the way from her cottage. Brin lugged her supplies across the dirt road.

Her landlord's wife Hana was sweeping her verandah, so Brin smiled and waved before heading to the beach. Nice people, she thought. They'd gone out of their way to help her settle in. She admired their simple lifestyle and wished she too could permanently loose her smartphone. At present it was lying silent and useless in her bag, but once back on the mainland, she'd be at it's beck and call again.

"Can I give you a hand?" Brin turned at the sound of the polite offer. She recognized her landlord's eldest son Deta. He looked to be around her age: mid twenties or so. Dark hair like hers. His plain clothing certainly wouldn't grab anyone's attention, but there was something about his eyes, she thought. Warmth and empathy met her gaze. "Thank you. This toolbox is a bit heavy. But it was my Dad's." She shrugged. "I'm sentimental."

Deta smiled kindly. "Dad's are special people." He lifted the toolbox easily in one hand and the easel in the other.

"He was the best. Only things he ever painted were houses, but he always encouraged me. Made the easel too. I miss him." Brin caught herself before she rattled on. She didn't want to scare Deta off with her chattiness. She could do with a friend.

He had stopped walking and seemed to be looking at her with genuine sympathy. "That sounds rough. He sounds like a great father."

"He was." I'm sorry for going on so. He died just a couple of months back. That's partly why I'm here."

"No need to apologize." He said quietly. "Would this be a good place for your easel?" He'd stopped a good distance from the high tide mark. "You don't want to lose your things to the waves."

"Perfect." She smiled. "And sorry once more for talking too much." She opened the tool box and began hunting for her greens and blues. When she turned, Deta was still standing nearby.

"I'd be glad to listen if you need to talk some more." He offered shyly.

Brin stopped rattling around in her toolbox, touched by the Islander's sincere offer. "I appreciate that. Thank you."

"See you around, then." He walked back up the beach, but when he was nearly home, he turned and glanced at the slight young woman in jeans and a long paint-splattered shirt. She looked small and vulnerable on the open beach and he promised God he would keep her in his prayers.

*******

Mora sat in the back row of the church holding a sleeping baby Jonah. She was glad that she could stay for the sermon and not have to go outside with a fussy baby. She listened closely as John read from the book of Revelation about Laodicea and the Lord's warnings to that church. The word "lukewarm" truly sounded unpleasant: a state to be avoided at all costs.

"Yes," said John, "the Laodeceans thought they had it all: money, comfort, as well as the prospect of heaven; unfortunately, they were blind; not able to see their true spiritual state. They needed to be on fire for the Lord. He couldn't use them in their lukewarm condition. They had become self-satisfied and complacent." He paused and looked with love upon the believers. "Let us take a critical look at ourselves, brothers and sisters, lest we too become lukewarm." John brought the teaching to a close and led the congregation in prayer. In particular, he prayed for Dona and Chara and the children. For God's provision, guidance, strength and comfort. When he lifted his head he encouraged everyone to keep praying for the couple and for the church.

Afterwards, at the fellowship meal, Dona and Chara were embraced and uplifted by the love and support of their church family. They would be very much missed, but not forgotten. Dona was comforted by the knowledge that they would be praying for him and his family.

As the afternoon meandered to an end, Dona sought out his close friend once more. "The mission should receive my letter soon." John noted. "How are you and Chara doing?"

"We're at peace. And that is God's doing. We don't know what lies in store, but we trust the Lord fully. There are fears of course. And sadness, as you know."Dona sighed. "On some days, I have no idea how I will be able to leave. I love it here so much. And you, John? Do you think you will end up leaving too?" He studied his friend who had worked and was still working hard to spread the Gospel on Esther Island.

"Well, when you received the call to go to the mainland, I prayed, asking God if that were not perhaps His will for me too. But the more I prayed, the more certain I became that I must stay." He continued, hoping Dona would understand. " God helped me to see that I must continue to shepherd these precious ones until a pastor is sent. As change comes to the island, they'll be needing guidance."

Dona felt a burden lift from his heart as he listened to John. "Praise be to God." He said joyfully." He has not forgotten Esther Island."

******

Deta sorted through his morning catch. A good sized snapper caught his eye. Perhaps Brin would like it. He cleaned it and the rest of the fish. Some would be cooked up for lunch, the rest, he would salt and dry.

As he walked towards home, he spotted Brin setting up her easel. He wondered why she was painting on an overcast day, but he didn't know much about artists.

He set his basket down and watched as she laid paint onto the canvas. Intrigued, he saw the familiar scene come to life. Brin had captured the colour of the sea on a cloudy day.

"Hi," Deta spoke softly at last, not wanting to startle her.

She turned, her expression pleased. "Hi there. I saw you fishing. How was your catch?"

"Not bad. I have a nice fish for you if you'd like it. " He studied the canvas again. "I was wondering why you were painting on a day like this, but I see why now. The colours are beautiful."

"Thank you" She gazed at the ocean. "I just can't get enough of the water. It's never the same. Ever-changing." She turned and took in the large basket at his feet filled with freshly caught fish. "I'd love a fish for my lunch. Thanks for thinking of me."

"No problem. I can keep it cool for you if you like. Just knock on our door when you're ready for it."

She nodded. "I really appreciate it. You've all been so kind."

Deta studied his feet for a moment. He felt the Spirit nudging him, but he felt shy. Should he go ahead and ask? "Would you like to join us for church on Sunday? Missionary John will be teaching."

Brin stopped painting and studied her brush. "I was brought up in a Christian home. My Dad took us nearly every Sunday. But that was a long time and many detours ago." She smiled sadly. "Maybe I will. For old time's sake."

"You'd be very welcome." He encouraged her.. "9 O' clock. Well, I'd best get these fish home. See you around." He prayed for Brin the rest of the way. Once home he asked his parents to pray for the young woman too.

*******

On Sunday, Brin donned a long, colourful skirt and modest top. A deep sadness threatened to overwhelm her as she remembered the Sunday mornings of her childhood and her Dad's cheerful presence.

The service was just beginning as she walked through the door. Kind smiles greeted her as Hana quickly offered her a seat. The heart-felt singing brought tears to her eyes, but she wiped at them quickly with the back of her hand. Thoughts of her Dad had made her emotional. She smiled quickly at Deta who was sitting a few chairs down from her. A youngish man with a beard rose to his feet. He said a few words of welcome, smiling and nodding in Brin's direction too. Then he opened his Bible. He read from the book of Revelation about a long ago church in Laodicea. He explained that the people of that church had been neither hot, nor cold, but lukewarm in their faith. It struck Brin that the word cold could apply to her. She had loved God with all her heart when she was a girl, but her heart had grown cold towards Him. She had wandered away, giving her heart to art and to boyfriends. God was no longer in the picture.

The preacher continued his talk and Brin listened. She owed her Dad that much at least."In verse twenty, Jesus gives an invitation. Come, He says. I am knocking on the door of your heart. And then He promises that He will enter in. Hear Him knocking today. If your heart has wandered or even if you are lukewarm, there is hope for you. Repent and answer His knock today."

*******

It rained softly that afternoon, so Brin painted inside.The gray tones of the day matched her emotions. Phrases from that morning's sermon looped through her brain. Tears fell as she poured her heart onto the canvas. But this time, she felt no relief, so she headed for the beach. She prayed to the God she had ignored for years as she walked, pouring her heart and anger out. She realized that she blamed God for her father 's premature death. But still, how she longed for the peace and joy she had known as a young girl. Would God welcome her back? The preacher said she had only to open the door. Suddenly, she felt the need to speak to him, to make sure. Perhaps he would still be with Deta and his family.

She walked as quickly as she could through the wet sand, aware only that God was knocking. When she reached Deta's house, she saw no one about, but she tried anyway. It was Deta who came to the door. He explained that his parents and brothers as well as the missionary were out visiting.

Brin knew she must look a sight, but she didn't care. "You heard the sermon this morning, Deta. Do you really think God gives second chances?"

Deta's calm gaze met her questioning one." I do. God says so in His Word. If He gave the Laodecians another chance, why wouldn't He give you one?" He asked gently. "Can I pray for you?"

She nodded, grateful, and he led her to a bench on the covered verandah.

"Dearest Father, here is Your child," he began, and as he prayed, Brin opened her heart wide to God and let Him in.

*******

It was time to say goodbye. Dona sat in his usual quiet time spot and watched what would be his last Esther Island sunrise for the foreseeable future. A few months ago, he had been so sure that he would never leave the island. Now he realized anew that both the island and his lifestyle had become idols in his heart. By God's grace, they both lay shattered now. He bowed his head and praised God for the joy that filled his heart. There would be sadness this morning too, but it wouldn't overwhelm them.

They ate breakfast one last time in the outdoor kitchen, then made their way down to the cove. Between them, they carried only one small bag and the children. The rest of their belongings were already safely stowed on Zane's boat. He'd insisted that he would take them to the mainland. A large group of relatives and church family were waiting to say goodbye at the cove. Dona's heart ached and his courage nearly left him. How could they leave these dear people? Then John and the others gathered around them to pray and he felt his strength return. They were in God's will for their lives, and that was the safest place to be. What's more, God had helped him to realize, with a little help from Zane, that technology itself wasn't evil and could be used for good.

As they left the cove thirty minutes later, Dona watched the little figures on the beach grow smaller and smaller. Chara was below deck with the little ones. He lifted his arm in a salute, then turned and stood next to his friend, and offered to help in any way he could. Zane smiled and told him he could just relax and enjoy the ride. "You know Dona," he said, as he expertly guided the craft, "you may be winning me over to this faith business. God must be worth serving if you can give everything up for Him."

Dona's smile lit up his face and all traces of sadness left him. "He sure is, my friend. He sure is."

*******

"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone."

ISAIAH 9:2 (E.S.V)

Five years later.

Dearest Dona and Chara,

Our hearts are rejoicing at your news! To think our prayers are answered and we will have our own pastor. Of course, you may have to add on a room to the little church manse, seeing as your brood has increased to four. Jonah, Leah and James will enjoy meeting them. I have been seeking God's will for some time now about where I must go next and He has laid the Isle of Loden on my heart. But we will remain on Esther Island until you are settled in. Your old cottage is in good repair. Zane sees to that. He serves the Lord now as you know and is a faithful brother. I believe he has offered to bring you over? As for other news, the church has seen some spiritual growth despite challenges. The eco-camp is a welcome source of income, and we have more opportunities to serve and minister now. Deta works as a guide for the camp and takes tourists on fishing trips while he shines his light for the Lord. He and Brin make their home on the west coast now. Their second little one is on the way and Brin sells her paintings to the tourists. A sweet love story, to be sure. My Mora sends her love and says she can't wait to catch up with Chara and see you all again. Same here!

'Til we meet again,

John.

THE END

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I hope you enjoyed our trip to Esther Island. It was a fun experience for me, to make up an imaginary place. I also enjoyed making up a few of the character's names.

I prayed as I wrote, asking God for the words, and I believe He answered my prayers. At first, I thought the story would be longer, and I could have waffled on indefinitely, but I am a simple soul.

If you asked me what the message of Esther Island is, I would say that the story reminds us not to become comfortable. We are merely traveling through this world and Jesus has given us our orders:

we must share the Gospel: "Go into all the world and preach the Gospel to all creation." (Mark 16:15. E.S.V)

***************************************

Pencil in His Hand: A Mother's Journal of Stories, Thoughts, and Poems.

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ESTHER ISLAND

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