Marisa's Destiny

Marisa’s Destiny

By

Jo Ann Snapp

Marisa’s Destiny Copyright 2013 Jo Ann Snapp

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

To my family for the inspiration they have been, to my co-workers in careers far different than expected when they started life’s journey, to all those who just enjoy a good love story and of course to the story Giver, my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, this book is dedicated.

Chapter One - The Mission Message

Marisa Thomas stopped her task for just a moment to watch the sun begin to rise above the Australian hills in the distance. Being born to an average, fairly pampered American family, she’d grown up with washer and dryer and most of the other amenities to which families in Dexter, Illinois were accustomed. She stared into the large kettle of steaming, soapy water in front of her. She was at the end of the earth away from those luxuries.

When Marisa asked the mission team leaders, David and Georgette Griffith, how they’d found or picked Fire Mesa, Australia, David said they’d thrown darts at the map. She presumed by his laugh that he’d been joking, but now, she wasn’t sure how else they could’ve found the place.

She’d made a decision, along with a small group of other High School graduates from several towns in the United States, to dedicate three months to a church field mission. They’d gone to live among people that Marisa had no idea existed in the modern world a month earlier. So far in the outback, she was in the in-back of the outback. The sun sent long fingers of light along the red earth, and she turned back to her work.

Using a stick to flop the jeans back into the kettle, she then poked them under the water. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead and pushed her damp, medium length, brown hair from her face. The heat rose as the sun became brighter across the bush. The day would be hot, hotter than it was now, which by guess must’ve been eighty-five or ninety degrees. She was glad she’d gotten to the wash before full daylight. When had she become such a work horse?

Marisa, can I use the wash pot when you finish, please?

Marisa turned to see Tammy Cooper, the homecoming queen, stumble from the grass topped veranda they called the barracks. The tent structure had cots for sleeping, mosquito netting for walls, with roll down canvas for privacy. She called it primitive camping, until she saw the grass and stick huts the village people lived in, with dirt floors and no furnishings except for sleeping mats.

Marisa had never thought of Australia looking the way Fire Mesa looked; Sidney or Melbourne, that was what Australia looked like. She got back to poking the wash and answered Tammy.

Sure, Tammy. I’m ready to run mine to the creek for rinsing. With a grunt, she lifted the few garments from the big kettle and deposited them into a large basket. Now the hard work would be lugging the basket the one hundred yards to the creek. Real doubt flooded her mind as to the reality of her staying the required three months.

Marisa came upon Delbert Martins, a fellow team member, coming back from the creek. He was freshly scrubbed and exuberant as always.

Smart move, Mar. It’s going to be a hot one!

No offer to help! Marisa heaved a sigh. It’s already a hot one over that pot. She plopped the basket at the edge of the creek. The water was clear and free flowing. She’d been told in orientation that, in bad years, it would stop flowing and become stagnant.

What would Delbert, Mr. Clean, Martins do in that case? Marisa sloshed the garments up and down in the clear water and wrung out the clothes. She returned them to the basket, thankful for her good physical condition.

She wondered how the Griffiths had spent all their adult life in such environments from Alaska to Chile, from China to Africa and now the last year in Fire Mesa. How could they take it? Marisa was fed up with the heat, fed up with the bugs, fed up with the dirt, and she wondered if she’d missed God’s voice of direction.

It didn’t seem anything good was happening. Well, maybe the excitement in the children’s faces, and maybe the grateful mother of the child who’d been healed of a high fever. . . she supposed she had heard God’s voice. She just wished that listening didn’t have such rough consequences.

Three weeks of homesickness hadn’t offered contentment to this point. A bath, or shower instead of the creek, or a soft bed wouldn’t make the work less rewarding, would it?

While Marisa lugged the basket back into camp, Georgette waved her over to the table behind the sleeping quarters.

Marisa, breakfast is ready. Georgette, a physically fit, and a well figured woman, Marisa found out was thirty-five years old. Her hair, a little darker than blond, was not really brown either. Not what many would call beautiful, but she was pretty and with her personality, a pleasant person to be near.

Marisa dropped the basket of clothes under the clothesline and went to the table.

Where’s Willard? Georgette set a plate of bread near the eggs.

Probably out to get a look at some hydra-whatcha-ma-call-it that only comes out at dawn. Tammy answered half-heartedly, sitting down next to Marisa. Marisa noticed that she straightened considerably as tall, good-looking, football star, Brad Norton, reached the breakfast table.

Yeah, Will got up before daylight to check out some kind of plant. Brad’s voice would’ve been perfect for late night radio; clear and low, deep but not too bass.

Oh well, so much for dreamland. Marisa pushed her sunglasses up the sweaty bridge of her nose. Brad was the type who’d never given her a second glance in school.

Now Tammy Cooper? Tammy was cheerleader, homecoming queen, and model rolled into one. She had beautiful, long auburn hair, a sculptured, athletic body, and a face to match the body. She also had a very venerable act she used when needed to gain attention. That was a match for Brad!

Delbert was more Marisa’s fate. He was a perfectionist about everything, including his health. His body toned and trim, appeared in great shape; he wasn’t ugly but not handsome like Brad.

Or—heaven forbid—the bug and flower man, Willard Smith? Willard, poor boy, was a scrawny, intellectual, dweeb type, but he was a nice person compared to Delbert with his superiority complex.

While analyzing, Marisa didn’t notice David behind her. He put both hands on her shoulders and squeezed. Marisa came back to reality.

Morning troops! Ready for the battlefield? David asked.

Marisa pictured David as a, perfect husband. He was calm, humorous, very dedicated to his wife, and strongly dedicated to God. He and Georgette never had children of their own but had helped take care of many multi-cultured children over the years. For the past thirteen years they’d taken mission teams to the areas where they set up ministries.

Ready to go, sir! Delbert stood with determination. Are we going to finish the school house?

Yes, but not today. David sat on the edge of the split log table. Today I’d like to take you into the outback.

Outback? Marisa’s mind raced. How much further outback could they go?

Are the plants more exotic? Willard, glasses drooping, plopped his hat on the table as he joined them.

Uh—no, I don’t think so, Willard, but I thought we should talk first. Where we’re going, the people are more primitive than here and very likely, in daily activities, will be running around pretty much in the all together—

You mean stark naked? Tammy winced.

Not quite, Tammy, Georgette said. You know from coming here that the culture views dress differently than the States do and most other countries.

All of the young people had taken time to adjust to the scantily clothed women and girls. The children were mostly naked until bodily development started and then not having much more than loin cloths or waist wraps in the day to day activities. The tribes weren’t as modern as some of the Aboriginal people, traditional in activities and dress, because of the isolation.

David and Georgette had been partially responsible for the change from stark naked, however according to the leaders the Gospel was the real reason for the changes. David and Georgette taught the young people that they hadn’t come to see change on the cultural outside, but the soul changed by belief on Jesus Christ. If personal changes in lifestyles changed because of that belief, the Griffiths accepted it as a positive by product.

The Bible teaches covering up our nakedness! Tammy quoted aloofly, as if word for word.

Aren’t we here to teach them the things they don’t know? Delbert asked.

I thought we were here to show them God’s love, Marisa heard herself say. She remembered a distant sermon she’d heard once about Jesus being naked on the cross. Whether accurate or not, she thought within herself how humiliating that must’ve been, and that He had endured it because of the love He had for people.

I agree with Marisa, Brad stated in that wonderful voice. When God takes over, he can mold the people the way he wants, dress and all.

That’s our goal, their souls to know Jesus as their Savior, their friend, their teacher, David said. God can do wonders we can’t begin to instigate. Georgette and I’ve taught these people their need of Jesus as Savior. God’s made the other changes in them. The people we’re going to see today haven’t heard the word of God or at least very little. Boomerang’s brother is the village Chieftain. He wants his brother to know the Jesus he’s met.

Marisa liked Boomerang. All the young people had taken an instant liking to the Deacon. He had very bushy hair, which he joked in his non-traditional English, was the reason the people were called Bushmen! He raised a big family, thirteen children, of whom he was proud.

Another thing, Marisa never considered the heathen people as being proud of their children. Wasn’t it the heathen who sacrifice their young to pagan gods, or made them pass through the fire, things like that?

Eight of Boomerang’s sons had gone through the trial of manhood and taken positions in the tribe. His daughters were married to men of position, a thing to be proud of; however, Marisa couldn’t, as yet, tell any rank or positional differences in the village.

Boomerang went on ahead to set things up. Georgette began to clear the table. If you’d really rather not go, Tammy, you can stay here and help me paint the desks in the schoolhouse.

Could I? Tammy almost whimpered.

Of course. How about you, Marisa? Georgette asked.

I’ll go, Marisa answered.

How about you guys? David questioned.

It’s part of the mission work we’re here for. Delbert reached for his hat. Brad and Willard nodded.

Well, then get your packs ready, and we’re off. David headed for the barracks that Georgette and he shared.

Let me hang the wash! Marisa stood and started for the clothesline.

Tammy and I’ll take care of that, Marisa. Georgette waved Marisa on. She didn’t miss the pouting look from Tammy.

*****

Marisa put pant legs inside her boots and laced the calf high boots tightly as did the other members of the team. She had no desire to have some un-welcomed creepy crawlers hitching a ride up a pant leg. A tee shirt would’ve been nice alone, but David insisted on long sleeve khaki shirts over the tee shirts and broad brimmed hats. Marisa thought they looked rather like a group on safari. As they adjusted each other’s packs, David gave some assurances.

Actually, these people could be so shy of strangers, we may only see faces peeking out of huts. David patted Willard’s backpack and knocked the thin boy off balance. David steadied him. Are you alright, Willard? By the way, you’ll see some beautiful scenery on the way to the village. Some of the ravines are lush, waterfalls, pools of water, that sort of thing.

Then we may have to keep Willard’s nose away from the bushes. Delbert chuckled.

Willard seemed to ignore the statement as the troop headed out across the bush.

Soon Marisa understood the dress code. They’d applied bug repellent on hands, neck and face and gratefully it kept the flies out of her eyes, but it was the shirt set up that was great. The loose over shirt, with the tighter tee shirt working with perspiration, created a primitive cooling system. Marisa understood better why the Arabians wore those huge, heavy looking robes head to toe.

Not long into the trek, Marisa appreciated the time she’d spent hiking and walking on weekends when some others were doing more sedate things.

Brad’s football stamina kicked in, but Delbert, who had headed out with vigor, had slowed. This exercise was not in a gym.

Poor Willard struggled, not from the walking, because he was used to hiking around. The heat, so unlike the Alaskan city from which he’d come, along with the burden of the supply pack, was taking its toll.

The flat terrain changed downward, to a black and red, rocky landscape into a lush valley. Brad reached back on an especially high step up, and Marisa timidly took his helping hand. Starting to go on, Marisa saw Brad hesitate, then turn back and give Willard the same helping hand. Marisa smiled. That was a very nice thing to do.

Then Brad did something even more endearing to Marisa. He stopped Willard and removed the supply pack. Willard protested, but not very convincingly, as Brad added over half the contents of Willard’s supplies to his own pack and replaced Willard’s lighter one. Talk about helping to carry your brother’s burden. Brad was a perfect example in action.

Well, kids, ready for a break? David asked an hour later. They were in a shaded area with a cool pool of water that stretched under an overhanging, stratified rock bridge.

Marisa removed her pack, pulled out a bottle of water, and seated herself on a smooth dark rock in the pretty area. She looked at David. He amazed her. At thirty-five he was handling the hike much better than the young people some seventeen years his junior.

How much further? Delbert tried to sound exuberant, but the heavy breathing betrayed him. Nothing like an early morning jaunt!

About another hour into this ravine. David removed his hat and wiped the inside band with his handkerchief. How’re you doing, Willard?

Hum? Willard broke from his examination of the ferns by the bank of the pool. Oh, I’ll be alright. It’s cooler down here.

Good. David propped himself against a large stone.

Marisa? Brad’s voice took her by surprise. He hadn’t