The Way Maker and the Scarlet Cord: In the Quake of Two Supernatural Collusions

By Dixie Koch

Her body was weak from giving birth. Her soul was fragile, wishing desperately that she could hold her baby, but she had not even been allowed to see her baby. Under the influence of drugs, she could vaguely remember a baby crying, and then the sound of her baby being whisked away from her. Forever.

No not forever. Hopefully not forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Revival Waves of Glory Books & Publishing
• Release date: Jul 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9783961427604

Dixie Koch

DIXIE KOCH, who worked with kids as a rural public health nurse, is now retired and lives with her husband in Minnesota. Her granddaughter, Andrea Hallstrom, is the artist of the award-winning cover picture.

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Copyright

The Way Maker and the Scarlet Cord

Copyright © 2017 by Dixie Koch. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked (ESV) are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®, copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities, and incidents included in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, and entities is entirely coincidental.

The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of Revival Waves of Glory.

Published by Revival Waves of Glory Books & Publishing PO Box 596| Litchfield, Illinois 62056 USA www.revivalwavesofgloryministries.com

Book design copyright © 2017 by Revival Waves of Glory All rights reserved.

Cover design by Andrea Hallstrom

Cover artwork by Andrea Hallstrom

Published in the United States of America Paperback: 978-1-365-99117-2

Hardcover: 978-1-365-99118-9

Fiction / Christian / Suspense

Fiction / Suspense

w

ritten to all mothers and fathers who regret their past mistakes, who are looking for hope, change, and a promise to hold on

to that their children and grandchildren will discover real love and life. And written to all children who have longed to feel real meaning and love in their lives and who are needy and desperate to experience the heavenly Father’s forgiveness, great love, and the abundant life he longs to give them.

Written because we all need a Savior, and his name is Jesus. Because of the powerful blood he shed for us, he has secured a new covenant that we may enter into with him. Here mercy, forgiveness, deliverance, healing, and redemption begins and continues.

Written because he doesn’t just become our Savior to leave us the same, but he wants to change us and renew our minds and transition us into transformation. The New Covenant is all about him and his kingdom and what he can and will do for and through those who will trust him with their lives.

Dedicated to all my children and grandchildren.

Barry and April, Asa and Elisha; Larry and Angie, Zach, Andrea, Levi, and Josiah; Sandie and Lydia, Hannah and Moriah. I love you all so very much! There isn’t a moment that goes by that I am not thankful for you. There isn’t a day goes by that you are not in my prayers. I’ve asked God for lots of things for each of you. And I believe our God answers prayer! For the promise is to you and your children! Acts 2:39.

Dedicated also to Darla and Brenda and their

families. You girls are like daughters to me.

Thanks to my husband, Jim, for being here and helping out around the house so that I would have more time to write.

A special thank you again to my son, Barry, for all the endless help you’ve given me with this computer! (and to April for enduring through it). Thanks to my talented granddaughter, Andrea, for another beautiful cover art work. And thanks to my daughters, Sandie and Angie and to my son-in-law, Larry, for volunteering to read it with editing eyes!

Thanks to all my friends and family for your prayers and support.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

P

astor Cory, thank you. I am blessed to be learning more and more about the great New Covenant- that this redemption is a supernatural rescue and

life-changing package, which is why the devil hates to see it established in any human life. How important has been your advice, that I learn to transition out of fear and into a greater faith, whereby I may claim these great promises contained in Jesus’s transforming word.

Thanks to my friend, Bev Rodriguez, for all your help, praying, reading, editing, good advice, and the ongoing support you have been to me while writing this book.

Thanks to my friend JaNet for all the times you’ve bowed your head and prayed with me for this book. You are a great friend and prayer partner!

To my sister, Janet, thank you for being you, my dear sister and friend. I love you!

To my friend Pat Anderson, thank you for your friendship and support! It is precious to me.

Thanks to my friends Rozie, Deb, Marilyn, and Nellie for praying and for encouraging me to keep writing!

Thanks to award winning author, Billie, for a listening ear and good pointers along the way.

Thanks to all of my family—nieces and nephews and sister-in-law, Arlene. I love you guys, and I appreciate each of you.

Thank you to my new friend Sam Jayakumar for the interview and promoting my book on Turning Point @ myhopefm.com.

Thanks to all my friends, too numerous to mention, for all your prayers and support!

I sincerely wish to thank Bill Vincent and Revival Waves of Glory for another opportunity to publish the second book in this Mark of God series. You have been great to work with.

Let not mercy and truth forsake you; Bind them around your neck, Write them on the tablet of your heart, And so find favor and high esteem in the sight of God and man. Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths.

Proverbs 3:3-6 (NKJV)

To my grandson Zach, these verses are packed with great promises, and you really surprised me when you had them tattooed over your heart. The way Maker and the Scarlet Cord is all about the promises of God, which are real powerful words needing to be so real in our hearts that they flow from our mouth as well. These words will renew our minds and are the source of supernatural living. Bind them like a scarlet cord around your neck! This is my prayer for you and for everyone of my grandchildren.

CHAPTER ONE

I

t was true. Standing sideways. Looking hard into the full-length mirror. She was pregnant. Could she go through with this? She had guessed she was

pregnant but had been unable to face the thought of another abortion. Now, feeling the baby move inside of her sparked something she couldn’t really understand.

Jezra pressed her lips tightly together as she drew in a deep and troubled breath. Kevin. She swallowed hard. She regretted the twenty months of their spotty relationship. I vow to never let you know I am carrying your baby! You were an evil leech always wanting to usurp my inheritance!

The FBI, especially agent Caleb, was still hot on Kevin’s trail. Though a fugitive, Kevin had managed to morph himself into another identity. She imagined he was cocky about his makeover. She wished he had been caught, too, and locked up and out of her life for good.

Jezra glanced back at the mirror, and with a swipe of her hand pushed back an unruly chunk of her dark, glossy hair. She turned to face the mirror. "But I want the baby even if it means running from Kevin, running

for my life, and running for the life of my unborn baby." Yes, maybe she was a bit like her own mother, who hadn’t rejected her. No, her mother had had no choice but to run.

But I have a choice. I can choose to keep my baby.

Horror smacked itself against the back of her mind. Should she keep this baby, she would be expected to dedicate it to the dark powers of her master. Only, something growing even deeper inside of her was screaming, No!

Jezra flicked on the light switch. Instantly two wire chandeliers, in the shape of antique bird houses, lit up the stairway. Decorative glass pendants hanging from the center of the chandeliers seemed to dance to life under the pale lights.

She climbed the old winding staircase. Her pulse escalated with each step. The old heirloom was hers. It had been her great-grandfather’s gift to her. She had been birthed within the confines of this building. Her grandfather said he had been the first person to touch her, to hold her, and to gift her with his incredible powers.

Jezra stopped and held tightly to the banister. She was breathing harder now. Up here, on the fourth floor, or the attic of her childhood, she had spent most of her growing up days.

This was her inheritance, but she had been glad to leave. Maybe it was those painful memories of an attic existence that had kept her from returning. She had no home really. Neither had she found any lasting or

meaningful relationship. Like Kevin, she had not found

a home with him, only a temporary dwelling place.

But I will need a home now. Her voice was a raw whisper. I need to find one for my baby’s sake.

Jezra stared hard into the room. She remembered the shades being pulled down and only wanting for the sunshine to prove itself. If only now she could pull up the shades of her past and see what all she had missed while confined to such utter darkness. Like, she would really want to know more about her mother. All she had was a picture of her mother, which had been secretly given to her by one of her grandfather’s maids.

She had been thirteen years old when the maid, Anna, had sneaked into Jezra’s room bringing the picture tucked under a napkin on a lunch tray.

Lately, she had been remembering that day, seventeen years ago, when she had that conversation with Anna.

Your mother was pregnant with you in this picture. She was a very beautiful young woman. You look so much like her, Jezra, Anna had said.

Why have I never been allowed to even see my mother? And where is she now? Jezra had asked. My grandfather says she was a castaway and nothing but a traitor.

"Your mother was used as a surrogate, Jezra. Your grandfather could not have any children of his own. Still, he needed to keep his line of powers going. It

was an oath that way. The Oath originated way back to your great-great-grandfather, who was a very powerful man, skilled in dark powers and branded by them. He had made the covenant with the devil himself for the seed of his lineage. This is the kind of blood covenant one would never dare to break. Therefore, your grandfather’s youngest brother’s seed was donated to your grandfather."

Why do they tell me nothing? That makes my grandfather a surrogate grandfather! And Niko is my father? Jezra had cried. Where is my mother?

Ah, child, it doesn’t pay to ask many questions. And you must promise me to never tell your grandfather that I have been meddling in his affairs this way. You must never let on that you know any of these things. You must not let on that you are aware that Niko is your father! I’m on very dangerous grounds as it is for just giving you this picture. The maid’s eyes had taken on a seriousness that Jezra had never forgotten.

I promise not to tell, Jezra had begged as she had grabbed on to the maid’s arm. Please tell me everything.

Your mom had a change of heart, Jezra. She had been offered a considerable amount of money to have a baby for your grandfather. But as she felt the life you brought moving and kicking inside of her, the value of money lost its importance. All she wanted was you. She became very frightened because she knew her life and your life were on the line. Oh, she tried to escape by running barefoot into the woods. She had hoped to get away. Poor thing.

Did they kill her after I was born?

No, child. I had managed to send out a letter to a wise man. It had been a most dangerous arrangement, but God caused it to work. Your mom’s execution had been scheduled. But she escaped. I do not know where she is now. That was so many years ago, and yet I scarcely dare breathe at times for fear your grandfather will find out.

Tell me her name, Jezra had pleaded. Oh, surely you remember her name.

Rahab, the maid had whispered. Her name was Rahab.

Rahab, Jezra had mouthed the name. That’s an odd name. I don’t believe I have ever heard of a such a name before.

I have read about a very brave woman named Rahab, the older woman had answered with tears gathering in her eyes. I read about her in the Bible, and because she had saved some of God’s men by hiding them from the enemy, in return her wish, which was to save her family, had been granted to her by these same men.

And my father? Why doesn’t he come to me and tell me he is my father?

"In the blood pact, your grandfather is your rightful

father until he should pass away."

And I am but a product for the devil?

There’s one more thing I would like to give you, Jezra, Anna had said. The maid had reached into the deep pocket of her blue linen servant’s dress and pulled

out a small book. Jezra, read this whenever you can. But never ever let your grandfather know you have it!

What is it? Jezra had asked.

It is the New Testament. It is about a powerful kingdom of light. It is more powerful than this kingdom of darkness you have been born into. It explains that Yeshua is the Way Maker out of this darkness.

Jezra opened the door of her old bedroom. Shades were still pulled down over the two small attic windows. Pain seared in her chest, almost snuffing her breath away. It burned, almost like indigestion. But it wasn’t indigestion. It was red hot anger. What had been snuffed away was the very breath of her childhood. If only she could look in this room and remember what it had been like to have a mother to hold her when she had cried. If Anna was right, then my mom did want me. But she was denied the right to have me.

She moved quickly to the shades, not just to open them, but to tear them from their mounts.

No, she cried between puffs of breath. I will not let them have my baby! Savagely, her hands grabbed and ripped at the shades until the bloodied pieces fell to her feet.

She kicked at what remained of the blinds. I’ve got to get out of here. I mustn’t let anybody know I’m pregnant. Her hands went nervously over her protruding abdomen. I must leave very soon. Tonight.

Jezra stood in front of the window, the one to the right of the metal-framed, white-painted headboard of her bed. She opened the window to let in some fresh air as she peered out into the shadowy dusk. A large oak tree stood in front of the old stables. A gentle breeze played only enough to slightly rustle its leaves.

Eclipse, Jezra whispered after a jagged breath. Her heart began drumming at the sight of her beloved Friesian mare. Eclipse’s head was proud over the white fence. Even under the darkening clouds and the forthcoming of the night, the black mare looked more beautiful than ever. Jezra could see the thick wavy mane gracing Eclipse’s well-muscled neck.

The horse nickered, and Jezra could feel her heart slide down. My dear horse. You are the only good memory I have of this place. A slight smile tugged at Jezra’s lips.

She would always remember the day they met. It was on her fourteenth birthday. Eclipse was a gift to her from her grandfather when Jezra had been declared by him as finally a woman skilled in the powers he possessed. Two things he had given her in honor of her dark accomplishments. First, that his spirit guide would always lead her, and second, a black filly. She had been speechless at the sight of the young horse. Eclipse became the secret passion of her youth. Many evenings she had stood beside the mare, sometimes without saying a word. Still, there was a communion that only the two of them understood. She had watched as professional horse trainers worked daily with Eclipse. The mare obeyed, but there wasn’t the same light in

her eyes with those men. When Jezra came, she knew the horse’s eyes lit up with more brilliance than the brightest night star. So great had been the comradeship between her and this gifted horse.

Jezra’s head lifted higher. Her lips parted into an open circle. I’m not leaving without you.

Fredrick, the butler who had stayed on to care for the estate, had already completed his chores and his rounds for the evening. I’m sure by now he has retired into the den to read the paper and watch whatever movie. She could remember the butler cleaning up the last of the dinner mess and then slinking away into the privacy of the den. He’s not as energetic as he is sneaky though, Jezra added with a twist of her lip. Jezra looked about the bedroom. There were only a few packed boxes of old clothing, none of which would fit around her waist. She guessed herself to be about five months pregnant, judging from her widening girth. For now, she would need to risk being seen by Fredrick, if perchance he hadn’t retired to his den. The skirt of her dress had enough flare at the bottom to make riding horse doable for now. At any rate, she needed to sneak into her deceased grandfather’s room. Maybe she could find a few pair of sweat pants. He was a small man, but this type of pants should be stretchy enough to accommodate her additional growth. Then, she would see if there was some bread and other goodies to pack. She should have a couple days’ worth of food and water at least. She’d fill a saddle bag with grain for Eclipse too.

No person should be assuming she was on the run yet.

This would buy her time to stop at her stashing ground

and take some of the money she had buried away. Jezra had never felt secure. Always clinging to her backbone, like a leech, was a fear as black as the night she was about to escape into. She could not understand fear, but she knew it was a driving force. It was an energy that haunted her more than protected her. It was a dreadful place of survival, where she must maintain her control. Nonetheless, whether it had been the power of that fear, or some other force, maybe watching out for her, something inside of her had caused her to habitually bury sums of money. And none had suspected, though many had watched her as she’d leave her room regularly for an evening walk. None could have seen her as she had disappeared around the bend of an old country path that led into a thicket of woods.

A shiver shook its way down her spine. She must leave, and she must do it soon. With soft moccasins on her feet, Jezra crept silently down the winding stairway. The door to the den was closed. She put her head against it, listening for even the slightest noise. She couldn’t even hear a snore. Carefully she grasped the doorknob and twisted it ever so gently, trying to avoid an unwanted squeak, lest the sneaky butler should awake and snoop into her affairs. Slowly the door opened, and under the dim moonlight making its way through the window, Jezra could make out the outline of his body against the reclining chair bed.

Jezra sneaked into the kitchen, finding a few possibly needed items and bagging them. When she reached the bedroom her grandfather once possessed, she felt haunted by the darkness within it. Jezra couldn’t

bring herself to open the door. Her heart beat like thunder, and her hand felt weaker than putty. It could not possibly find the strength to open yesterday’s door again. So she left, without looking back.

Eclipse surrendered her husky neck to Jezra’s swift embrace. It was as though the years had not changed a thing. They were there for each other. Nothing could change that. Jezra quickly saddled the mare and loaded the saddlebags upon Eclipse’s strong back. And then, Jezra disappeared into the darkness, riding with the wind, feeling secured by the steady clop-clop of Eclipse’s hooves against the hard ground.

I don’t really know where to go, girl, Jezra spoke into the night breeze. The woods look a little haunted, and the moon hangs like a thin-eyed spy. As though believing the woods and moon were untrusted ears and eyes, she bent forward and low over the horse’s neck to whisper, "I had only