Every night, my husband and I debate watching the news. We want to be informed about what is going on in the world, but so much of what is happening is ugly and heart-wrenching.
Almost every time we do watch, I breathe the words, “Come, Lord Jesus,” when the last image fades from the screen. We yearn for the day John described in Revelation 21:3-4 when “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.”
God alone knows when that day will be. But while we are here, He sends us glimpses of heaven, reminders of what will one day be. Those glimpses come in many different forms—a sense of His presence with us when we are sad or suffering, the kindness of a stranger, or the breathtaking beauty of the created world around us.
In my newly released romantic suspense novel, Forged, Puerto-Rican-Canadian private investigator Jax Rodríguez has been searching for his brother for twenty years. The slim lead he is now following—the one he has determined will be his last before he gives up his quest and marries the woman he loves—takes him to some of the most dangerous places on earth. Despite his circumstances, Jax is reminded, through the intense beauty around him, that God is still in control, still with him.
After being robbed in an alley in Caracas, Venezuela, Jax faces the very real possibility of his life ending:
“After what felt like an eternity, the guy lowered the knife and shoved Jax hard against the wall. ‘It’s not worth it. Let’s go,’ he muttered in Spanish before pushing through the group and storming toward the opening of the alley. His gang fell into step behind him. In seconds, Jax was alone. He slumped against the wall, his legs trembling slightly. His neck stung, and he swiped his fingers over the spot where the knife had dug in. A small amount of blood smeared his fingers when he held them up. No major damage then. Could have been much worse. Gracias, Dios mío. He shot a look toward the sky, a startling blue that Mikayla had told him once was called celeste. So much beauty shimmering above all the ugliness below.”
Later, Jax’s life hangs in the balance again as he flees through the El Yunque rainforest in Puerto Rico, desperately trying to stay one step ahead of a ruthless drug lord. One night, Jax sits, his back against a tree, gazing up at “the rooftop of branches—not nearly as thick now as it had been when he was here as a kid, something else the hurricane had stripped from this country—to the few stars that had managed to break through the cloud cover to glitter across the dark sky. A crane glided overhead, silhouetted for a moment against the golden glow of the moon. More beauty shimmering above the pain and heartache below.”
Whatever we are going through, whether we are suffering ourselves or witnessing the suffering of others on the nightly news, or on social media, or in the lives of those we know personally, the beauty of creation serves as a visible sign that God has not abandoned us. It moves us on a soul-deep level because it reminds us of how things once were and how they will one day be again.
And, above all, it reminds us that we are not alone, and that here on earth and for all eternity, we never will be.
Sara Davison is the author of four romantic suspense series—The Seven Trilogy, The Night Guardians, The Rose Tattoo Trilogy, and two sparrows for a penny, as well as the standalone, The Watcher. A finalist for more than a dozen national writing awards, she is a Word, Cascade, and Carol Award winner. She currently resides in Ontario with her husband, Michael, and their three mostly grown kids. Like every good Canadian, she loves coffee, hockey, poutine, and apologizing for no particular reason. Get to know Sara better at www.saradavison.org and @sarajdavison.
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