The Gift of Sabbath: Season of Change

By S. Lynn Moore

The Gift of Sabbath, Season of Change, is a book about life's lessons in virtue and humbleness of heart. Located on the Fortner family farm, the story is told by the youngest member of the Fortner family, little Esther, also known as "Peanut".
Five year old Esther shares struggles and victories of her family members and herself, as each individual discovers their own strengths and weaknesses, while holding fast to their faith in Yeshua (Jesus) Messiah.
With refreshing innocence and simplicity, Esther enlightens the reader of Daddy and Momma's steadfast faith in Torah as well as Yeshua Messiah, and their unwavering devotion to family and community. Simon and Martha Fortner lovingly guide their family through life's many struggles facing modern day Sabbath keepers, while diligently caring for their neighbors and community.
Full of humor and tenderness, you are sure to feel as though you are experiencing first hand, the day-to-day goings on of the seven members of the Fortner family. From the steadfast faith and strength found in Daddy; Momma's hope for her children's future in a lost and hopeless world; Ruth's humbling battles with vanity; Caleb's integrity and humor; Abby's propensity to be late due to her love of reading; Naomi's moody nature; to little Esther's magnetism toward mischief.
The Gift of Sabbath, Season of Change, is sure to touch the hearts of all who read the words within it's pages, bringing inspiration and family unity for generations to come. May all who read this heartwarming story of faith, family, and community be inspired to hold fast to the many blessings of innocence and purity, while walking this journey in life that we have all been given, once, to walk.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 21, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456723736

S. Lynn Moore

As a child S. Lynn Moore could be found exploring the woods where she grew up in Northern Arizona. She spent countless hours with her horses and various pets, imagining tales of drama and adventure which later became her collection of short stories. In the evenings Lynn's family would enjoy time together listening to Lynn spin tales of adventure and suspense, while vivaciously acting out the scenes she had imagined during the day, bringing laughter and amusement to all who watched and listened. Lynn still lives in Northern Arizona and enjoys life with her husband Joseph, their natural and adopted children as well as their foster children. The Moore family raises a myriad of farm animals including: Cotswold and Shetland sheep, Nubian goats, Border Collies, Australian Shepherds, Golden Retrievers, Angora rabbits and two much pampered cats named Darius and Maximus. The members of the Moore family are indeed Sabbath keepers and live a life rich in Jewish culture as well as believing in Yeshua (Jesus) as Messiah. Joseph and Lynn have a passion for studying biblical history and have traveled to Israel in order to understand and strengthen their faith from a Hebraic perspective. Lynn is a stay at home mom, spending her day’s homeschooling their children, weaving projects from the yarn she has spun out of the fiber harvested off their sheep and rabbits, and gardening in the family's large organic garden. Still, one of Lynn's greatest joys in life is sitting around the fireplace with her children as she spins tales of heroes and noble warriors saving the damsels in distress and conquering new lands! S. Lynn Moore can be reached at [e-mail].

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© 2011 S. Lynn Moore. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 9/14/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4567-2373-6 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4567-2374-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4567-2375-0 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011912748

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

This book is dedicated to my wonderful children who have graced my life with laughter and joy while giving me a wealth of stories to share with others, to my devoted husband and partner for life who encourages me daily to fulfill my dreams, and to my Heavenly Father who inspires me through His written word to live the life I’ve been blessed with to it’s fullest.

Chapter One

As I crept out of bed and stepped onto our wood floor, I felt the cold under my feet. It gave me a little shiver up my spine.

The sun had not come up yet, but there was a faint glow outside of my bedroom window. And I could make out the frost crystals scattered in pretty little patterns on my windowpane.

I tried my best to be as quiet as a mouse so that I wouldn’t wake up my brother Caleb. Caleb almost always gets out of bed and does his chores before me. Then he teases me once I do wake up, saying, Good morning, little sleepyhead, you’re so late I ate my breakfast and yours! But this morning I was determined to wake up and get my chores done before he did.

Caleb is six years older than I am, and he’s my absolute favorite brother. In fact, he’s my only brother!

The good thing about Caleb finishing all his chores first is that he’s always happy to help whoever hasn’t finished theirs yet. And since I’m the youngest, he seems to help me the most.

Usually, when I do wake up early in the morning, before anyone else has, I just turn back over in bed, cover up my head, and go back to sleep, not wanting to face the cold morning just yet. But lately, Daddy has been teaching us to be diligent in our responsibilities. He has had to remind us that our Heavenly Father has given us six days to do our work and on the seventh day He blesses us with a Sabbath rest. But in those six days we are to do our work with all of our might, giving our best effort.

As I tiptoed past Caleb’s room, I could hear the sound of his breathing, very slow and steady. I knew he was still asleep. I wanted to giggle out loud but didn’t because I knew I might wake him up if I made much of a noise at all. So I kept very quiet.

I made my way across the floor and slipped into my red flannel jacket. I felt around in my jacket pocket to make sure that my gloves and hat that Momma knitted me last year were still in there. I knew it would be very cold outside and my fingers and ears would ache if I forgot to wear my hat and gloves while doing chores.

Silently, I walked through the kitchen to the back door, squinting my eyes in the darkness as I searched for my winter boots among the many pairs of shoes and boots of all sizes and colors that were too muddy to wear any further than just inside the doorway.

Finally I found my boots, slipped them on, laced them up, and tucked my pant legs into them. I put my hat and gloves on, took my scarf down from the hook it was hanging on, and wrapped it snugly around my neck. Then I stood there silently for a little while, looking out the window.

It looked very chilly outside, but the frost on the ground looked like a beautiful sea of little tiny sparkling stars. What a wondrous sight it was. Everything looked clean and crisp during the quietest time of the day. It was so calm and peaceful.

As I opened the back door carefully, the cold morning air brushed lightly across my face. I stepped out onto the porch and shut the door quietly behind me. I could hear the frost crunch beneath my boots as I made my way to the chicken coop. I wondered how the chickens did so well in the wintertime, not being able to put on an extra coat, socks, or hat.

All of our hens and our one fat rooster, named Red, huddled under the single lightbulb we had hanging from the chicken coop ceiling. They seemed happy and warm enough, but I could not figure out for the life of me how that one little lightbulb could keep them warm in the dead of winter. I could huddle all night long under a lightbulb and would still get frostbite, but not these chickens! Once the sun is up they happily cluck all over the barnyard, fully awake after a nice night’s sleep, taking an occasional break to come back into the coop and lay a nice brown egg.

Good morning, Red, good morning, girls, ready for breakfast?

Red and the hens made little effort to move, only shifting a little and fluttering their feathers slightly, as they watched me open the feed barrel and take out their mash with an old coffee can and fill their metal chicken feeder.

I shut the feed barrel and opened the next one, which contained the scratch. I scooped out a little into my can, stepped out into the barnyard, and scattered the scratch all over the ground so that when the chickens finally did get out of the bed where they were roosting, they would have some food on the ground to scratch through. They seemed to love that the most. Daddy told me that chickens have to have some food that they eat off the ground because the dirt helps them digest the seeds and grains that we feed them.

I am certainly thankful that people are not like chickens. I’ve seen what’s on the ground around the barnyard, and I would never want to eat off of the ground out there! But the chickens seem happy enough, and they faithfully give us nice eggs for breakfast and baking, and that’s what really counts.

I made sure their water wasn’t frozen, refilled it, and went back inside the coop for my favorite part—checking for eggs!

The chickens hadn’t moved much. They were still just sitting there looking a little lazy. You would think that they’d get used to the routine and just get up and walk away from the eggs they had laid, but they don’t; they sit there until I go take the eggs from them. And this is the fun part.

I went to the first chicken and slowly put my hand against her to reach underneath and feel for an egg. What do you have under there, Henny?

Her eyes got big as she raised her body up part way. Braaaaauuuuuck! Braaauuuck! Brauck! Brauck! Brauck!

The silly thing! Her head moved in jerking motions back and forth, and her feet went plop, plop, plop, as she stared down at my hand while making her funny noises. I wasn’t sure if she was going to peck me or not—sometimes the hens would. It didn’t hurt too much. It was funny more than anything and well worth it just to be able to watch how silly they looked and to listen to the squawking.

I laughed out loud and purposely gave her a little nudge just to see her eyes get even bigger and to hear her squawk get squeakier. Then I went to the next hen and did the same thing, and then the next one, and so on. Braaaaaaauuuuuuuk! Braaaaaauuuuuuk! Brauk! Brauk! Brauk! They each squawked.

I hadn’t taken any of their eggs yet, just so I could go back and tease them again and again. What funny-looking faces they made! I laughed and laughed each time I went to the next chicken. Their googly eyes, funny noises, and silly sounds—and all over one little egg they were setting on!

I got a little carried away with teasing the chickens and laughing at their funny faces and noises, and I didn’t hear Daddy open the door until it was too late.

Esther! What is it that you’re doing?

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I spun around and immediately did not feel like laughing. Father was standing in the doorway with a stern look on his face. I could see a look of sad disappointment in his eyes. This was not the first time he had caught me teasing the chickens, and I knew I would get only one warning—and that one warning had already happened last week.

I put my head down, not wanting to look up into his eyes because I had a huge lump in my throat, and seeing Daddy’s eyes would make the lump in my throat turn to tears that would run down my cheeks. It had happened like that before when he had shown such disappointment in me, and I knew I had made him sad because I had been so naughty.

Esther, I asked you a question. What are you doing? Daddy asked again, even more sternly than the first time.

Teasing the chickens, I said in a whisper.

Have I not told you before to be kind to the animals that our Heavenly Father has blessed us with?

Yes, Daddy.

So you knew that you were doing wrong?

Yes, Daddy.

Esther, go into the house and stay in your room until I tell you that you may come out, said Daddy, his face very serious.

I gulped hard, knowing that I was in big trouble. I had already been warned and I deserved to be punished. As much as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, it got bigger, and then hot tears spilled out over my eyes and ran down my cheeks.

Did you hear me, Esther?

Yes, Daddy. I sniffled and wiped away the tears from my cheeks.

Do as I said.

I could hear the disappointment in his voice. I could not look back up into Daddy’s face as I walked past him.

My feet felt like lead as I walked out of the chicken coop, across the yard, and toward the house.

Why was it so hard to be good? I tried and I tried, but it seemed like every time I told myself that I wasn’t ever going to do a naughty thing again, I could only last a day—then I would do a naughty thing again. I always seemed to get caught. I never could fool Daddy or Momma, no matter how hard I tried.

As I was thinking about what I had done to the hens just for my own amusement, I remembered the things Daddy had said, and I wondered how I was going to be punished.

Then, I looked up at the house and noticed the kitchen light was on. Oh, no! My sisters and Caleb, my brother, were up. Ruth, Abby, and Naomi would be putting their warm clothes and boots on for chore time, and now I would have to walk right past them to get to my bedroom. All of them would be wondering what I had done.

I opened the door and walked into the kitchen. I was too ashamed to look up. I tried to walk right past everyone without hearing anything they said, but I couldn’t get through the kitchen before Ruth asked, What’s the matter, little one?

I couldn’t even answer. I just sniffled and kept going.

Uh oh, said Caleb as he watched me pass by. Somebody must be in trouble. Then the whole room became quiet; they all turned around and stared silently as I slowly walked away, toward my bedroom.

When I got to my room, I lay down on my bed, buried my head in my pillow, and sobbed. I knew I was wrong, and I knew there was no excuse. I had been warned.

As I lay on my bed, I heard my sisters and brother go outside to do their chores. The house got very quiet, and then I heard the door open and shut. I could hear Daddy’s footsteps as he walked across the kitchen floor. He didn’t come to my room right away, but he must have gone to speak to Momma first.

It was a good while before I heard Daddy’s footsteps walking toward my room. I knew I had to accept my punishment. Daddy was always fair. And he always prayed about what he was to do, but, still, nobody ever liked to be punished. You would think that I would be used to it by now, but I wasn’t.

Daddy knocked on my door, and I sat up on my bed and said, Come in.

Daddy walked in and sat down next to me.

Esther, you are five years old now. You are old enough to learn to read and do schoolwork with your sisters and your brother. You’re old enough to do dishes and to help around the house. You’re old enough to make your bed and to keep your room clean. You’re old enough to have many responsibilities—and you are old enough to know right from wrong, are you not? Daddy asked, looking straight into my eyes.

Yes, Daddy, I replied. This time I did look up into his eyes, and the big lump swelled up in my throat all over again.

Daddy continued, looking down at me as he was speaking. You knew that teasing the chickens was not kind, and you did it anyway. You chose to do wrong on purpose. And because you knew that it was wrong and did it anyway, you must have felt that it was worth risking being punished. Is that right?

I didn’t know what to say. Daddy was right, and I knew it.

Because of this, I have not decided what your punishment is to be. I need to pray that our Heavenly Father will show me how to teach you what you need to learn from this, do you understand?

Wait to be punished? Oh, no! That was worse than just getting it over with.

I nodded yes to him, and I could feel my tears warm on my cheeks as I whispered,