The Island Mission

A Trojan and Camille Short Story

Part One

Trojan woke up with a start. His muscles were bunched up, sweat gathered on his forehead from the same dream that he’d had for the past three nights. He released the air from his lungs, willing himself to relax. It wasn’t real although it felt like it. As quietly as possible, he moved the duvet and got up, smoothing it out behind him. His wife lay sleeping, her long blonde hair spread over the pillow. The sight of her peaceful face soothed his soul. He pulled his fingers through is own black locks before padding across the thick luxury carpet towards the sliding door where he stepped outside onto the balcony of their condo.

The sun was just rising across the water, its golden rays dancing on the ripples of the ocean in the bay that lay down below. The bright blue pool at the back of their complex lay quiet, waiting for the sun to strike it to bring warmth to its depths. Trojan inhaled the fresh salty air, placing his hands on the railing as his gaze travelled over the numerous yachts moored in the bay. Their own private yacht was nestled somewhere between the rest. He hadn’t seen it before since it was part of the inheritance Camille received from her late father. They’d come to the island to manage the assets there. Their plan was to sell most of it and only keep one residence and possibly the yacht.

He sensed Camille behind him before he heard her. She came up next to him and nestled in under his arm. The morning air had a faint chill, but the temperature would soon be above twenty degrees even though it was September. They’d chosen to come outside of the tourist season although there was a significant amount of people who still travelled to Majorca right around the year.

She smiled and thought: It’s beautiful isn’t it?

Trojan replied in his head: Sure is.

Did you have the same dream again? She soundlessly enquired.

I did. His forehead creased again. I wonder if it’s someone here on the island.

We’ll have to keep our eyes open. Camille tightened her arms around him and he returned the hug. Communicating via telepathy was one of the gifts they’d kept after his transformation.

Time passed quickly that morning and by lunchtime they were ready for a break. Finding themselves in one of the popular areas with a flea market full of colourful clothes and tourist-focused goods to buy, they decided to lunch at one of the open-air restaurants overlooking yet another bay with giant palms swaying in the breeze. Trojan leaned back after clearing his plate in record time.

“Wow, I needed that.” He patted his stomach and Camille smiled at him as she finished off her salad.

“I love watching you enjoy your food these days.”

He smirked, “Better than in the beginning, right?”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah. I prefer my man a little more cultured.”

He leaned closer to her, his muscles flexing as he pretended to growl, “I’m still wild at heart.”

Camille fluttered her eyelids, “Don’t I know it and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

She noticed a group of young women throwing imperceptible looks their way. They were clearly ogling her muscled, tall, better half. She took his hand across the table. That was one thing she loved about him—he was oblivious to other women and had eyes only for her.

His deep voice broke into her reverie, I’m not oblivious. Her eyes widened at his voice in her head—sometimes she forgot about the whole knowing each other’s thoughts thing—as he continued, I choose to have eyes only for you. Our unity means more to me than anything else in the world.

She completed his thought, And to me too.

Relaxing back in the chair, which looked like it was made for a dwarf, he asked, “So what have we got planned next?”

She flipped her sunglasses back onto her eyes so he couldn’t see the mischief hidden there, with a deadpan face she said, “I thought a spot of shopping would be in order.”

His eyes widened, “Shopping?” He sat up straighter, his bushy brows knitted together, “You know how much I like shopping?”

“I know, you’d much rather jump off a bridge, but since you love me and I like it when you accompany me, you’ll have to survive for an hour.”

“I’m going to get you back for this later.” He mumbled.

They paid their bill and strolled hand in hand. Camille headed for the area with the stalls since it was nearest to them. The long main street with all its interesting shops would be next. Trojan was dressed in designer brand cream shorts and a deep green golf shirt. Camille’s desert-sand summer dress looked like it came from the stalls they were approaching, but it was from her favourite boutique in Paris. She wasn’t above appreciating the different styles and materials displayed though, finding the linen particularly lovely.

Trojan trailed in her wake trying not to show his boredom. He didn’t care much for what he wore but Camille had trained him in the importance of keeping up appearances. Even though it didn’t matter to them personally it was valuable for business and connections. He did enjoy seeing her face light up when she spotted something she liked, though.

They walked through the racks of clothes into the next stall which seemed to contain much of the same. A woman in her twenties came out of the depths of the stall smiling at them. She wore a colourful purple hijab that left only her face exposed. Her face…

Trojan stilled next to Camille while she conversed with the woman. His gaze was fixed on her taking in her light brown skin and dark eyes. It felt like she was more African than Spanish, maybe from Algeria?

The short conversation between Camille and the woman ended with her returning to the small table with a chair which she occupied at the back of the stall. As Camille looked through a rack near her, Trojan edged closer to the woman pretending to be browsing himself.

He spotted a small boy who looked around 18 months old in a pushchair near the small table. He had dark curly hair with light olive tinted skin. His eyes grew larger as Trojan moved closer to him. His thumb moved towards his mouth and he sucked on it desperately as the giant man crouched in front of him.

“Hello little one.” He tried to use his softest voice but it still sounded loud in his ears.

The lady moved closer, placing her head on the boy’s head. She said something to him in a language which sounded Arabic. Whatever she said seemed to reassure him. Trojan wondered if she told him that this giant wasn’t going to eat him. He smiled at the boy and was rewarded with a tentative grin around his thumb. Standing up, Trojan tried to ignore the pang inside him. He focused instead on the woman.

He tried to converse with her in French, “My name is Trojan and yours?”

She replied, “Nafisa.”

“Nice to meet you Nafisa. You have a gorgeous little boy here.”

Motherly pride swept across her features, in halting French she said, “He is my pride and joy.”

“Where are you guys from?”

In an instant her pose became guarded as she nervously tugged at her hijab. “He was born here.”

Trojan tried to sound innocent as he questioned her further, “Does your husband own this shop?”

Horror filled her face for a split second, “Non.” She hesitated, glanced at her boy then back at Trojan, “I’m not married. I work for the owner of this shop. He takes care of us.”

There was so much more Trojan wanted to ask. He wanted to tell her about his dream but that would probably freak her out. Giving her his widest smile, he said, “My wife and I are just visiting to do some business on the island, but if you ever need any help, here’s our card.” He’d fished out a business card from his wallet and placed it on the table.

She looked at him and then at the card not taking it. Dipping her head, she asked, “Why would you want to help us?”

He shrugged, opting for a nonchalant look, “I’ve seen a lot of people being taken advantage of in your position and let’s just say that doesn’t sit right with me. We like to help where we can. Changing the world for the better one life at a time.”

She took the card off the table and slid it into her jean pocket. “Thank you.” She avoided eye contact but looked down at the soft curly head of her son, touching him fleetingly.

Camille came up to them with a few items in her hands. Nafisa smiled broadly and helped her with the transaction, even throwing in a free soft scarf which she insisted on giving them.

As they walked away Trojan couldn’t resist a look over his shoulder back at her. Her face had lost its smile and now looked downright sad. It took all his self-control not to go back and force her to tell him what was wrong.

They started going down the main street and Camille entered a shop with beautiful kitchen accessories. The cutting boards made from olive wood were beautiful as well as the colourful patterns and pictures of Majorca on the merchandise. As soon as they were inside the shop where fewer people were, Camille asked him silently, What’s going on?

She’s the woman from my dream.

Camille gave an audible gasp. “What?”

“I know right.” Trojan pushed his fringe out of his face. I just wish I could ask her directly what’s wrong.

Tell me again what she says in your dream? Camille silently asked while she pretended to study the spoons on the shelf in front of her.

She keeps repeating her cry for help in between sobbing. In my dream she had chains on her hands and feet like a prisoner.

Camille’s face took on a look that he recognised. His wife was going to get to the bottom of this. Warmth expanded within him at having such a partner.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, We need to find out more about who she works for.

With nothing planned for the afternoon, they spent it trying to find out about the woman and who she worked for. From one of the other stall owners they learned his name—Hugo Martin.

They also found out that Nafisa worked at the stall from 7am to 7pm every single day of the week. That was their first clue that something was wrong in her life. Working like that while having a young son you took care of was wrong.

The stall owner seemed overly eager to give them information, especially after they offered him a monetary reward. The man was in his thirties and owned his stall himself. He seemed to be a local who had worked hard to have his own little business. He spat as he spoke about the illegal immigrants taking work from good local folk like himself. His opinion of Hugo was that he was the lowest type of scum who’d do anything for money. Apparently, he had stalls all over the island manned by workers whom he paid very little. The man who didn’t want to give them his name, hinted that Hugo had other shadier dealings too and didn’t want him to find out he had snitched on him.

Trojan and Camille hung around out of sight, pretending to enjoy the beach view with ice creams around closing time. The eating-out places near the stalls worked well to hide them from view. Nafisa packed everything up and locked up before scurrying down the sidewalk past the beach pushing her son’s stroller. She didn’t even stop to enjoy the view. Trojan realised with a shock that her little boy hadn’t really left his pushchair all day.

They trailed her, hanging as far back as they could so she wouldn’t spot them.  There was a gangly, sleazy character who met her across the road and seemed to escort her further until they disappeared into an alley that led to an apartment building behind the front row of shops.

Camille released a frustrated breath. “We can’t follow them in there.”

Trojan only nodded; his jaw clenched.

His wife took his hand, “Come on, let’s go back to the condo.”

He smiled down at her, pushing back the worry about Nafisa, “I seem to remember I owe you some payback.”

Her cheeks flushed, “Now that you mention it, I couldn’t bargain for a foot massage, could I?”

“Hmm, you want a slave do you?” As soon as he said that the reality of Nafisa’s plight ploughed through them both again and the sombre mood returned.

They trudged home in silence. Before going into their condo, Camille glanced up at Trojan, “We’re going to help her. God brought us here for that very reason.”

Trojan touched his heart, “I know. We need to trust Him to show us the way.”

“He will.” They both felt the burden on them lift slightly along with the joy of knowing that with God all things were possible.

To be continued…

Photo by Oliver Sju00f6stru00f6m on Pexels.com

If you don’t know Trojan and Camille you can read their story in the novel: The Seer. Available worldwide on Amazon or directly from me if you are in the UK. Just e-mail at: clara@claraberge.com

The Hills are alive…

After being in lockdown on and off for about a year we found ourselves driving three and a half hours away from home into the Midlands – The Peak District. It has been on my list of places to visit for forever. Hills and mountains have always been a favourite with us and to venture to a place we’ve never gone before with the enticing name of The Peak District was very exciting.

As the landscape changed into rural outstretched vistas I could feel my soul breathe. Having grown up in the Orange Freestate in South Africa which consists out of farms and close knit communities it was very refreshing to glimpse a bit of it here. Derbyshire is the county that we are staying in and we’ve found the people a friendly bunch. If you ask for directions you don’t just get an answer you get a whole conversation. Bliss.

On the farm where we are staying in a converted barn – with low beams you have to duck for – above stables filled with horses, we had the best part of rustic combined with luxury in the form of a dishwasher, gas barbeque and jacuzzi and sauna. Gypsy the horse greeted us over the low stone wall, nuzzling our hands for carrots and the two black Labradors who live on the farm yard made themselves at home at our feet. Our view from our table out across the valley make us feel like we are in gazing out across the Peak district from our front porch. Which we are…

Today we took a drive which looks a lot like the picture below…we explored the Derwent Reservoir area. The boys skipped stones on the water… The dam walls were built more than a hundred years ago. These dams now supply water to most of Derbyshire. Those people who did the back breaking work of building them had no idea that long after they’d died their handiwork would serve to provide for thousands of people. Would that whatever we build create something for the generations to come too. Even if it is simply to protect the beautiful place we call earth…

These hills have been around for longer than I can count… The landscape is dotted with buildings that have been around hundreds of years… Crosses placed upon the hills to consecrate them to God which have withstood the elements for a thousand years. Rock solid.

We don’t always see the fruit of our labour straight away but I believe that every single thing you do in love ripples out like the splash of a stone in water. It’s effect felt further than we could ever know. Maybe even hundreds or thousands of years from now… Selah.

Photo by Jack Williams on Pexels.com

Book Give Away!

Dear Readers

On the 27th of March I’m taking part in a business expo with Ignite Nations. This will take place online. Please sign up at: https://www.ignitehubs.org/expo

There are many exciting and interesting businesses that will share what they do. Ignite Nations are a group of like-minded Kingdom focused individuals who pursue their calling to use wealth to bring redemption to the earth as a group.

As part of the Expo I will be giving away a copy of Alexa and a copy of The Seer to two different people in the UK. Please sign up via E-mail to follow my blog on my website: http://www.claraberge.com to be eligible for the draw of the give-away.

I will choose two people out of everyone who signed up to give a book away to.

As a bonus I will soon be bringing out a short story via my blog which only those who follow it will have access to. Happy Reading!

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Family.

Walking down the street I see people walking together.

A stooped elderly man next to his still straight smaller wife.

A teenager next to an older version of herself with their dog on a leash.

A young man and his wife wandering down the path enjoying the sunshine and spring air that’s descended this afternoon after days of gray.

In these strange times where we’ve been forced to group together in our own family groups I can’t help but muse on what family means.

Its always been said that families are the building blocks of a society. Without a stable family unit most people struggle. Contrary to that fact our modern society has tried its best to undermine the importance of family.

Its advocated that sending children off to be cared for by strangers at the earliest age possible is good for their development of independence when most studies show that its not the case. Instead children lack trust and emotional bonding with their primary carers (parents). We have an unprecedented amount of young adults who don’t leave home and find themselves directionless.

Divorce has spread like an unchecked disease destroying families like a warzone and yet its accepted as normal and things like being married, which gave more cement to families, have become an outdated practise. If these things were really beneficial for the human psyche then surely everyone who has gone through it would say so.

The truth is that family has a great impact on us.

Adults carry the issues they experienced growing up into adulthood.

Maybe if we look at children we could learn to get back to the true way society should work. All they want is time with their parents. The one thing our busy lives steal from them.

Add full time schooling when they are young, despite the fact that they could learn all of primary school in secondary school in half the time they had to struggle through it as young kids, isn’t a wonder we are loosing our family bonds.

Technology is great but has brought further distractions from interacting. Tv for tired parents in the evening instead of chatting with their kids. Games that addict kids from a young age.

It takes supernatural effort to focus, listen and engage.

Before long their eager little faces turn to their own screens and they don’t seek what they most need.

Family.

Maybe amidst this pandemic something good could come out of it. A reset of the priorities of society as a whole.

A return to values that added more quality to our lives than the ones our modern society embraces.

We’ve been forced to stop the rat race. To look each other in the eye.

I walk down the road watching as the people approaching me on the sidewalk step onto the road to give me a wide berth before I can offer to be the one to leave the sidewalk.

I smile at strangers and find that most are smiling back something that was a rarer occurrence before this year of forced seclusion. Maybe its not just bringing families closer but society as a whole.

When you loose something you often realise you need it.

Interaction with others. Good old fashioned friendliness. Maybe we just have the time to smile and say hello because we aren’t rushing to and fro.

They say as the human race we share 99.9 percent genetic make up. Essentially things like race has no great bearing on our basic building blocks. We are one big family.

And if we treated everyone as family what a better place this world could be.

If we spend time with our children, help them understand their emotions and how relationships work we would be adding value to the next generation that no amount of schoolwork could make up for.

Teach them to value family because without it our society is in trouble. Teach them to value people as a whole because we are all connected. Then we stand a chance.

The one thing that brought every great society to an end was the break down of the family unit.

This is our wake up call. Our chance to change our society for the better.

Christmas Cheer

The tree is twinkling amidst presents snugly wrapped in colourful paper. They lie there quietly piled together hiding future delights. The smell of pine and logs burning wafts through the air and I take a deep breath.

This year is almost over. It wasn’t what I expected in many respects. Yet, I’m in awe of the mercy of Yahweh. He covered us this year. Provided not only for our family but many families through us. Like Joseph in Egypt we found ourselves blessed in order to bless.

There are more gifts under our tree than we’ve ever had. Abundance. An outward expression of an internal realisation of living in a place of no lack.

An outward manifestation of an inward realisation.

We are abundantly blessed with every good thing in Christ. The only reason we didn’t experience abundance before is because we didn’t think it was ours. We bought into the false thinking that we are subject to the natural laws of this earth. That lack is normal and simply part of living.

But it is not. Nothing is impossible for those who believe. What do you believe? We’ve seen our lives dramatically change as our thinking changed. Because as a man thinks so he is. In other words your thoughts create your life.

This year we chose to turn towards truth more than ever before. We formed new friendships. We found teachers and classes to develop our children that were just right. Those are just some of the small things. We had a wonderful year.

The presents under the tree remind me of the joy our heavenly Father finds in giving us good gifts. How much more than earthly fathers. Can you even imagine how many good gifts He has stored up for you?

If you believe you will receive.

This believe is very practical. It means thinking that you are God’s favoured and beloved child and that everything that is His is yours. Expecting lots of gifts from Him. It’s your birthright. Yeshua made the way for you to become a co-heir. An inheritance that is yours already.

So as I sit here enjoying the ambience of lights and festive cheer my heart is overwhelmed with gratitude. To the Father of lights whom I’m one with. To His body that I’m connected to in Spirit. For the privilege of expressing abundance to my children this year. Testifying to Yahweh’s goodness.

I’m grateful for everything that manifested this year. My fourth novel Alexa. The way it’s impacting people so far. The growth in our personal lives. My new business Hei Creations. The joy of engaging the living letters. The list is long…

My heart goes out to everyone who has lost a loved one this year. We personally have said goodbye to a few wonderful people. They have transitioned to glory but the loss is felt. We mourn with those who mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice.

May 2021 transition you into the new that Yahweh has for you. May you see all that He has for you and see it manifest. For no eye has seen and no ear has heard or mind has conceived all that He has prepared for those that love Him.

Fashioned.

There is a subconscious critic in all of us that voices its discontent with your ‘self’ or the way you are. It disguises itself in thoughts that seem on the surface harmless.

It says things like, “If only I was more disciplined.” Jealously looking at the people who are born with a natural inclination to be ordered and disciplined. Or it might be something like, “I wish I was more fun. I’m boring.”

In whatever shape or form it voices its discontent with how you are, the truth is that as long as you listen and think or agree with it, it won’t change. Why? Because as you think so you are.

It stems from a false belief that you were born without all the things you need to live a fulfilling life. Not pretty enough? Not good enough with sports? Too shy? Too disorganised? Sometimes they go even deeper to things like, “I’m unlovable. I’m a bad person.”

Back to the beginning before you were born where you were in a place where you lacked nothing. Because He made you perfect and wonderfully. In a place of perfection. Down to earth you came to be fused with DNA that carries corruption that needs redemption.

Redemption that has been accomplished for you by Jeshua, the firstborn of many. Now when you become one of the many you start the process of manifesting who you are within Him and transforming even your physical DNA back to how it should be. Full of glory and light.

Back to the inner critic that thinks in earthly concepts of lack and insufficiency. Those things are only real because you believe it to be real. Your life is a reflection of what is going on inside of you.

Your thoughts are frequency and when they align with Heaven they become a creative force. Combined with the words you speak you literally create. You are one with God. There is no seperation. And He said that you can do anything.

It starts with silencing the thoughts of lack and imagining the opposite. Really imagine it, feel it. What is it that you want? Healing? It’s not something you need to ask for. You have it. So step into what you have by faith. Feel how it feels. Allow thankfulness to flow through you. Confess it with your lips. I am healed.

I can see you shaking your head. How can you say things that aren’t real are real? It depends whether you truly believe they are even though you can’t see it in the natural yet. But when you take what is yours in the Spirit realm and you imagine, feel and speak it you are creating a platform so to speak for it to land on.

You are affecting the physical world to realign to the higher truth. It doesn’t matter whether you see it happen or not. It is real. You have everything in Christ. Death, sickness, poverty it cannot touch you. But it starts with you looking at yourself in a new light.

I am one with my Creator. I am His tabernacle. I lack nothing. Imagine yourself in that state – no lack. That is where you are in Him. He fashioned you for a purpose. Uniquely, beautifully designed. So next time you think anything different, arrest that thought.

Your thoughts are like seeds that you are constantly planting in your heart. You don’t know how it works but before you know it a seed grows and bears fruit. Before you know it what you think happens. So think what you want to happen. You were fashioned in His Image. To be a co-creator with Him.

Do you think His goodness is conditional? Do you think His generosity has a limit? Do you think He withholds things from you to teach you something? If you think that it will be like that.

But no you have unlimited favour with Him. The only thing that limits you is you. But if you can look at yourself and say: “I’m perfect. I lack nothing.” You can manifest that. Ignore the DNA that still needs transforming or the Ego that tries to trip you up. That is not who you are. You are a light being created by the Father of lights to be one with Him.

Think about that.

We have a release date!!!

Finally! I’ve been promising you Alexa for months now but this is it. On the 5th of December it will be live!! On Amazon, Barns & Noble, Nook or Goodreads!

For a limited time at an introductory offer especially for all of you who have waited so patiently. Get a paperback copy and wrap it up for yourself for Christmas if you can force yourself to wait longer. Grin. I’m looking forward to sharing it with you. Writing it is only half the fun.

Sharing it with each one of you is like introducing your new baby to your family. Not quite but close! It is my gift to you for 2020.

This has been such a strange year but in the midst of it I’m glad to have been able to birth a story of hope and peace for this tumultuous world. Alexa’s story is all about dreams of a world at peace. A dream that is already possible with the seed inside each one of us.

Changing times.

We went on a walk today. Trudging down muddy leaf trodden paths we breathed in the crisp Autumn air. Wellingtons and warm jacket bright blue against the browns. Water cascading down interrupted by geese loudly chatting in the background.

We lighted the fire when we got home for the first time this year. I’ve been looking forward to it all year. The wood burners smell filled the house as it came to life.

The changing of seasons always makes me contemplate life with its endless cycles of change. This year has seen a larger share of it than most. As with all change you can either embrace the process or resist it.

If you let go of the old you can embrace the new.

The truth is that change forces you to adjust your thinking. And that is a good thing. For awareness of what you believe and what drives you helps you reevaluate them.

So in faith I choose to embrace the new and let go of the old. To look for the gold He has hidden in the mud. Enjoy the constant companionship He offers me. Pursue wisdom like never before. Engage with silver to know purity. And love everyone around me to the full. That’s me but what are you going to do? There are no limits.