Read Online Lost and Found by Ginny L. Yttrup - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ginny L. Yttrup
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todayâthe something, or rather some one , that God told me I wouldn't want to miss. Although, experience has taught me, I could be wrong. Dead wrong. But then, that's part of the adventure.
Either way, I'm paying attention.
Skye looks from me to Jenna, then she gets up. "We can't have a conversation like this." She takes off the jean jacket she's wearing, spreads it on the concrete in front of the wall, and then plops down in front of us. Her legs hide under her vintage patchwork skirt. Yeah, it's vintage. Tess, remember?
"So, you two"âshe points at me, then at Jennaâ"share the same spiritual vibe." The silver ring on her index finger reflects the sunlight.
Jenna looks at me and then at Skye. "Spiritual vibe?"
Skye's golden eyes, catlike, shine. "Yeah, we carry the same Spirit within us, but I get a vibe from both of you. Like the Spirit speaks to both of you in the same way." She cocks her head to one side. "Or maybe you both interpret the Spirit's voice in the same way. I don't know. But there's some kind of Divine connection here." Again she waggles her index finger between us. "I feel it."
I nod. "Cool."
Jenna looks at me. I can't read her, but I'd guess she's as curious as I am.
Then Skye laughsâdeep and throatyâwhich is always surprising coming from such a petite thing. "Besides the vibe, you two have nothing in common." She shakes her head and laughs again. "But that's okay, 'cause you've got a foundation to build on."
"So . . ." Jenna seems hesitant. "You want us to . . . get to know each other?"
She glances at me and I shrug. "I'm game."
"No. I mean, yes. Sort of. I was thinking you could work together." Skye looks at Jenna. "Like I said, Matthew's a listenerâhe's a spiritual director. He's a guide for those on a spiritual pilgrimage."
"Spiritual pilgrimage?" I roll that over in my brain. "Hey, I like that. You've never said that before."
"I just thought of it."
Jenna holds up her hand, like a traffic cop. "Wait, a spiritual director? Aren't spiritual directors Catholic or"âshe waves toward the cathedralâ"Episcopalian, or . . . something? Which is fine, but I'm not . . ."
She leaves her sentence hanging, so I jump in. "Yep. They're associated with some of the more liturgical traditions. But it's an ancient practice that more Christians, even those in the evangelical traditions, are embracing. Like me. I'm just a plain ol' nondenominational follower of Christ who believes God still speaks."
She nods. "I believe that too."
"Look, girl," Skye says, "you've got a lot going on in your life and you're searching for God in all your circumstances. Sometimes, we need someone to journey with us. Someone gifted to listen to us and with usâsomeone who will help illuminate the path. That's what Matthew does. Right?"
"Yep. That's basically what I do. Or more accurately, what God does through me."
Skye, shading her eyes, looks up, at the sun I'm guessing. Then she leans over and grabs my wrist and looks at my watch. She gets up and picks up her jacket and shakes it out.
"I have to run."
Jenna's eyes widen a fraction. "Run? What about lunch?"
"I got a gigâa paying gigâlast minute. We're rehearsing in thirty minutes. Sorry. I'll leave you two to talk." She bends and kisses Jenna on the cheek. "Lunch next week?" And then she turns to leave. She holds her fingers in the symbol of peace as she says good-bye.
I turn and look at Jenna. "So . . ."
She smiles and her eyes light up like blue bulbs on a Christmas tree, erasing the wiped-out look I picked up on earlier. She's a dazzler. Even with that scar.
"What happened there?" I point to her jaw. As soon as I've asked, I can feel Tess's imaginary elbow in my ribs again. "Whoa, sorry. None of my business." I watch as her eyes shift from my face to the ground.
I know that look. I've sat across from it in my counseling office way too many times. Saw it on Blake's face this morning.
Shame.
"Uh, sorry, occupational
Either way, I'm paying attention.
Skye looks from me to Jenna, then she gets up. "We can't have a conversation like this." She takes off the jean jacket she's wearing, spreads it on the concrete in front of the wall, and then plops down in front of us. Her legs hide under her vintage patchwork skirt. Yeah, it's vintage. Tess, remember?
"So, you two"âshe points at me, then at Jennaâ"share the same spiritual vibe." The silver ring on her index finger reflects the sunlight.
Jenna looks at me and then at Skye. "Spiritual vibe?"
Skye's golden eyes, catlike, shine. "Yeah, we carry the same Spirit within us, but I get a vibe from both of you. Like the Spirit speaks to both of you in the same way." She cocks her head to one side. "Or maybe you both interpret the Spirit's voice in the same way. I don't know. But there's some kind of Divine connection here." Again she waggles her index finger between us. "I feel it."
I nod. "Cool."
Jenna looks at me. I can't read her, but I'd guess she's as curious as I am.
Then Skye laughsâdeep and throatyâwhich is always surprising coming from such a petite thing. "Besides the vibe, you two have nothing in common." She shakes her head and laughs again. "But that's okay, 'cause you've got a foundation to build on."
"So . . ." Jenna seems hesitant. "You want us to . . . get to know each other?"
She glances at me and I shrug. "I'm game."
"No. I mean, yes. Sort of. I was thinking you could work together." Skye looks at Jenna. "Like I said, Matthew's a listenerâhe's a spiritual director. He's a guide for those on a spiritual pilgrimage."
"Spiritual pilgrimage?" I roll that over in my brain. "Hey, I like that. You've never said that before."
"I just thought of it."
Jenna holds up her hand, like a traffic cop. "Wait, a spiritual director? Aren't spiritual directors Catholic or"âshe waves toward the cathedralâ"Episcopalian, or . . . something? Which is fine, but I'm not . . ."
She leaves her sentence hanging, so I jump in. "Yep. They're associated with some of the more liturgical traditions. But it's an ancient practice that more Christians, even those in the evangelical traditions, are embracing. Like me. I'm just a plain ol' nondenominational follower of Christ who believes God still speaks."
She nods. "I believe that too."
"Look, girl," Skye says, "you've got a lot going on in your life and you're searching for God in all your circumstances. Sometimes, we need someone to journey with us. Someone gifted to listen to us and with usâsomeone who will help illuminate the path. That's what Matthew does. Right?"
"Yep. That's basically what I do. Or more accurately, what God does through me."
Skye, shading her eyes, looks up, at the sun I'm guessing. Then she leans over and grabs my wrist and looks at my watch. She gets up and picks up her jacket and shakes it out.
"I have to run."
Jenna's eyes widen a fraction. "Run? What about lunch?"
"I got a gigâa paying gigâlast minute. We're rehearsing in thirty minutes. Sorry. I'll leave you two to talk." She bends and kisses Jenna on the cheek. "Lunch next week?" And then she turns to leave. She holds her fingers in the symbol of peace as she says good-bye.
I turn and look at Jenna. "So . . ."
She smiles and her eyes light up like blue bulbs on a Christmas tree, erasing the wiped-out look I picked up on earlier. She's a dazzler. Even with that scar.
"What happened there?" I point to her jaw. As soon as I've asked, I can feel Tess's imaginary elbow in my ribs again. "Whoa, sorry. None of my business." I watch as her eyes shift from my face to the ground.
I know that look. I've sat across from it in my counseling office way too many times. Saw it on Blake's face this morning.
Shame.
"Uh, sorry, occupational
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