Read Online Bloodline (The Forgotten Origins Trilogy) by Tara Ellis - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tara Ellis
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embarrassment takes it place. “I’m sorry,” I say to him sheepishly. “I haven’t had that happen in a long time.”
“Sorry for what?” Looking at him, it’s clear that he’s serious. When I don’t answer, he moves his hand from my elbow to my shoulder. “Are you okay now? Your color is much better.”
“I’m fine. I just needed to get out of there.” I look at the trees, the sidewalk and the other kids…anything but him.
“Alex,” he insists, not giving up.
Finally, I meet his gaze and then find that I can’t look away. I’m surprised by what I see there. “I used to get claustrophobic,” I explain. “But I thought I was over it. Really, I’m okay now. Thank you.”
Satisfied, he leans back, crossing his arms. “How is your mom today? Any better?”
Forcing myself to look away, I star down at my hands in my lap. “I…guess she’s doing better.”
“You guess?”
“Well, it’s hard to explain. Her flu symptoms are starting to go away, but…she doesn’t seem like herself. I…”
“What?” He seems genuinely concerned, so I tell him what’s on my mind.
“After Dad died, she suffered from depression for awhile and had to take some medicine for it. She’s been off that for over a year. The way she was back then…sorta like not caring about anything? That’s how she seems now, but not exactly.” Frustrated at my lack of ability to explain my feelings, I jump right into what I really want to discuss; “What do you think about dreams?”
Blinking at me, trying to keep up with my train of thought, he raises his eyebrows questioningly. “Dreams? What about them?”
“Do you think that, I mean… that it’s possible to get a message in your dream?” I’m not sure if he understands me, because he sits there staring at me for what seems like forever.
“There are many, many Native American stories and beliefs that surround dreams. You’ve seen dream catchers?” I nod in response. “That’s one example. But it is part of our culture to interpret and listen to what our dreams tell us. As a Christian, I believe that God may use our dreams as one way to speak to us.”
This surprises me. That wasn’t what I expected to hear. “Really?”
“Oh yeah, it’s very scriptural. I did some research on that due to my cultural background and found that among several other ways God may choose, dreams are a very common one. I think its Job 33….um, maybe verse 13 or 14 that says: ‘For God does speak – now one way or another – though no one perceives it. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls on people as they slumber in their beds.’ I’ve always liked that verse.”
“Wow. That’s pretty cool,” I admit. “I never knew that kind of stuff was in the Bible.”
Laughing, he smiles broadly. “Oh there are all kinds of stuff like that. You just have to read it. I’ve done a lot of that lately, in preparation for my mission trip I’m going on after graduation. What I’ve read amazes me. It all makes so much sense. But why the dream questions?”
Kicking at a piece of dirt that has suddenly become very interesting, I struggle with how to explain it. “What about someone other than God? Like, maybe an angel or a person that died?”
“God uses Angels in all sorts of ways, giving messages is one of them. As to an actual person that’s died , I don’t know. I think there has always been debate about that among Christians. I certainly believe it’s possible though. Who’s better to serve as your guardian angel than a loved one? Like your dad.”
I look at him, grinning at my own transparency. Okay, I need to just jump into this. I look at the clock on the outside wall; only fifteen minutes until class. I’ll have to hurry.
“I need to tell you a little about my dad first, if any of this has a chance of making sense.” He nods
“Sorry for what?” Looking at him, it’s clear that he’s serious. When I don’t answer, he moves his hand from my elbow to my shoulder. “Are you okay now? Your color is much better.”
“I’m fine. I just needed to get out of there.” I look at the trees, the sidewalk and the other kids…anything but him.
“Alex,” he insists, not giving up.
Finally, I meet his gaze and then find that I can’t look away. I’m surprised by what I see there. “I used to get claustrophobic,” I explain. “But I thought I was over it. Really, I’m okay now. Thank you.”
Satisfied, he leans back, crossing his arms. “How is your mom today? Any better?”
Forcing myself to look away, I star down at my hands in my lap. “I…guess she’s doing better.”
“You guess?”
“Well, it’s hard to explain. Her flu symptoms are starting to go away, but…she doesn’t seem like herself. I…”
“What?” He seems genuinely concerned, so I tell him what’s on my mind.
“After Dad died, she suffered from depression for awhile and had to take some medicine for it. She’s been off that for over a year. The way she was back then…sorta like not caring about anything? That’s how she seems now, but not exactly.” Frustrated at my lack of ability to explain my feelings, I jump right into what I really want to discuss; “What do you think about dreams?”
Blinking at me, trying to keep up with my train of thought, he raises his eyebrows questioningly. “Dreams? What about them?”
“Do you think that, I mean… that it’s possible to get a message in your dream?” I’m not sure if he understands me, because he sits there staring at me for what seems like forever.
“There are many, many Native American stories and beliefs that surround dreams. You’ve seen dream catchers?” I nod in response. “That’s one example. But it is part of our culture to interpret and listen to what our dreams tell us. As a Christian, I believe that God may use our dreams as one way to speak to us.”
This surprises me. That wasn’t what I expected to hear. “Really?”
“Oh yeah, it’s very scriptural. I did some research on that due to my cultural background and found that among several other ways God may choose, dreams are a very common one. I think its Job 33….um, maybe verse 13 or 14 that says: ‘For God does speak – now one way or another – though no one perceives it. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls on people as they slumber in their beds.’ I’ve always liked that verse.”
“Wow. That’s pretty cool,” I admit. “I never knew that kind of stuff was in the Bible.”
Laughing, he smiles broadly. “Oh there are all kinds of stuff like that. You just have to read it. I’ve done a lot of that lately, in preparation for my mission trip I’m going on after graduation. What I’ve read amazes me. It all makes so much sense. But why the dream questions?”
Kicking at a piece of dirt that has suddenly become very interesting, I struggle with how to explain it. “What about someone other than God? Like, maybe an angel or a person that died?”
“God uses Angels in all sorts of ways, giving messages is one of them. As to an actual person that’s died , I don’t know. I think there has always been debate about that among Christians. I certainly believe it’s possible though. Who’s better to serve as your guardian angel than a loved one? Like your dad.”
I look at him, grinning at my own transparency. Okay, I need to just jump into this. I look at the clock on the outside wall; only fifteen minutes until class. I’ll have to hurry.
“I need to tell you a little about my dad first, if any of this has a chance of making sense.” He nods
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