Secrets of a Cabin in a Sacred Forest
This faith-based story will be released here on creatorwhispers.com in segments over the next year. The story begins with a shipwreck on Lake Superior in 1905 where one man was saved by a mysterious sailor. You are suddenly placed in the present day, becoming involved in the lives of a young brother and sister combing the beach of Lake Superior in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. The brother and sister, by chance, meet an old gentleman who curiously emerges from the forest after their grandfather is injured and helps them to get the old man to safety. Days later as the brother and sister are walking along the beach the old gentleman appears again and begins telling them a story. He has a profound knowledge of the scriptures which in turn causes the two young siblings to begin opening their eyes and ears to the truths of the Trinity. The story unfolds over time revealing things that don't make sense to them. As the puzzle of the story begins to fit together, they meet two teenaged boys who had also met the old gentleman under peculiar circumstances. Who is this kindhearted old gentleman? Where did he come from? We learn in 1 Corinthians 3:1 "But I, brothers, could not address you as spiritual people, but as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ." We are told in the book of Hebrews chapter 13 verse 2, "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."
Prologue
1905
Gale force winds came early as the steamer with a four mast schooner-barge in tow was battered by massive waves and received the full force of horrific winds. The crew and deck hands fought fearlessly to maintain her course but the gale prevailed with its violence and power. An enormous wave forced the steamer to pitch and yaw, roll and sway. Heavy winds from the gale tested the integrity of the white oak hulls of both ships. Another massive wave lifted the Iosco and it yawed and began slipping down the backside of the wave while the schooner in tow slipped back down the front. There was too much slack in the cable and both ships yawed in opposing directions with abnormal speed. The tow cable snapped. The captain of the schooner grappled to maintain the ship’s heading. It was all the deck hands could do to hang on. Jonas was neither a crewman nor deck hand on this ship. He was an undocumented passenger but did what he could to assist. Having been a seasoned First Mate on a schooner sailing out of Sweden in years past, he worked side by side with the Olive Jeannette crew. When a task needed to be done, he accomplished it with full authority. The crew needed every hand available to keep the ship from foundering.
Fighting for the ship’s structural integrity to keep her righted was hopeless. Again, she foundered, her hatchways gave in, she was going down. Deck hands were slung around demoralizing their spirits and washed overboard. Jonas was no different, for he knew the captain and the ship’s cook as well as all crew and deck hands would be on their own. Realization set in that it was for God to decide everyone’s fate. With nothing left to save, it was every man for himself. Wind and waves took hold of all loose equipment and planking as the ship was being battered and torn apart. They were thrown to the devouring jaws of the waves. Something bashed him in the head but he was able to maintain consciousness. Another deck hand who grasped a plank to stay afloat, reached out with his gigantic hand and grabbed Jonas by the upper arm and pulled him to the flotsam. With the powerful gush of water pounding his eyes, Jonas could only see the other sailor as a blur. He was grateful to still be alive. Neither man spoke but both hung on for dear life. They were four miles off the point at Huron Island and saw a lighthouse in the distance so they at least knew which direction they hoped the winds and waves would carry them. Holding tight to the plank, Jonas was in and out of consciousness, but his instincts kept him holding tight to the plank saving their lives. Hypothermia from the frigid waters should have claimed the men’s lives but only a miracle was enshrouding them. With the light house in view, they could only hope the waves and current would wash them ashore. Fighting hard, bitterly hard, these two survivors were pounded, beaten as rising waves slammed them back under the surface. Both men held tight to the oil-soaked plank and tried desperately but unsuccessfully to keep from inhaling the bitterly cold spray from the storm. It seemed only a miracle from God was keeping them alive.
As the hours passed of being tossed and spun in the storm, a massive rogue wave, heaved them barbarously hard and fast. They were regurgitated from the unforgiving wave, flung hard and furiously through the air. With a surprising jolt, they weren’t immersed in the liquid ice, but struck solid ground of sand and rock. Jonas’s senses were frozen, his body had turned blue, he could feel nothing. His head was spinning, he had only enough energy to raise his head slightly to see the other sailor kneeling on the beach looking down at him. Jonas was still clinging tight to the oily stinking wood plank that had taken them to shore. It was only then that recognition of the other sailor came back to him. He raised his head and gulped in air that reeked of oil and dead fish. He said “I know you. I know you… the Kronan… Ananiel, you vanished. You drowned. Jonas reached out to touch him but as he lowered his head while trying to push himself up to his knees he heard Ananiel’s voice. With your desire for more money, you were merely chasing the wind. The Father has other plans for you. Jonas raised his head and his rescuer was gone. He looked around slowly trying to focus. He didn’t know if this was real or an apparition that was caused by hypothermia. There was no evidence that Ananiel had even been with him. Shivering from the cold, water dripped from his brow, his lips and poured from his nostrils. His clothes were heavy and cold from lake water saturation. A strong thick smell of musty waterlogged driftwood filled his senses. The rancid stench of rotting fish long since washed up on shore lingered. Tears welled up in his eyes, he closed them and he prayed. Father in heaven, Today I surrender every difficulty to you. I release the questions, hurt, and frustrations. I choose to trust you and do the right thing. Increase your strength in me so that I can live in the victory you have in store for me. In Jesus’ name. He lowered his head to the stench of rotting fish around the musty plank and lost consciousness.