That’s When It Started, July 27, a Sunday

I kept checking my sales chart — just a few pages read now and then, nothing to write home about.

Then, on Sunday, July 27, it happened. The chart began to peak, climbing for six days straight before falling to zero for three days… only to rise again for another four.

I stared at it, curious, leaning closer as if the numbers might reveal their secrets. My mind slipped past them, far into the chart and beyond — to a world unseen except by dreamers — to a little town, a narrow street, a small flat, and a young woman about to step inside.

It was Sarah, coming home from church. Well — to be precise — she had just stopped by her parents’ house for lunch. She’d moved out a few weeks earlier for some privacy, but she loved dropping by for food. Her parents were always happy to feed her.

She let her bag fall to the floor and sank into her armchair. Her mother had sent her away with homemade biscuits — oat and chocolate chip, her favorite. She took one, closed her eyes, and let the sweet, buttery taste fill her mouth. Oh, how she loved them.

The little flat was a bit of a mess. Books lay scattered everywhere — her treasures — which her parents, in their quiet way, celebrated were now hers to enjoy. Her gaze lingered on the warm chaos of pages and spines, and her thoughts drifted to David.

She’d seen him at church today — the man she had a soft spot for — though, as usual, he hadn’t had time for her. She sighed. Would he ever notice her? She didn’t hold much hope.

Still, it had been a good service, and now she wanted to do what she enjoyed most — rest with a good book. Yesterday she had browsed Kindle samples but had already read the most tempting ones. She kept scrolling until she came across a title far down the list, one she couldn’t get out of her mind. She couldn’t recall the author’s name — some unusual one she’d never heard before — but she remembered the characters: Benjamin, Ruben, and Miriam, three friends facing hard choices during the time of the first Christians. She couldn’t remember reading a novel quite like it — blending Christian history with biblical figures from the time of Jesus alongside fictional characters. Intriguing.

She picked up her tablet. Living Faith – The Destruction of Jerusalem. That was it.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” she said aloud, “I need a good cup of tea to go with this.”

It was always cozier with a hot cup of tea with honey. She put the kettle on, waited for the water to boil, and poured her tea. Now she was all set — tea steaming on the side table, biscuits within reach, feet propped on the pouffe, tablet in hand.

She disappeared into the world of early Christianity. It felt almost like time travel from her armchair. Yes, that’s it, she thought, my armchair is a time travel machine. She smiled at the idea. Just imagine how much fun it would be to actually have been there… or perhaps not. I’d probably have been scared spitless.

Still, it felt as if she were there. Miriam and Benjamin had become close friends in her mind. Ruben, on the other hand — she was angry at him. She didn’t need him. Miriam, sweet, heartbreaking Miriam — Sarah felt tears sliding down her cheeks as she read about her journey. Benjamin she liked. In fact, he could give David a run for his money. Well, she could dream. David always had girls hanging around him.

Back to the book.

“I need some tissues,” she muttered urgently. Still holding the tablet, she searched between the books. Finally, in the kitchen, she found a little packet. She needed them — her emotions swung from anger to tears, and tissues had to be close at hand.

Two days later, she was finished. She sat there, hollow, staring ahead. It had been an emotional journey, and it had drained her. She glanced at the biscuits. “No, not now. I don’t feel like biscuits.”

It was as if heaven looked down on poor Sarah, the emotional wreck she had become, and decided she needed hope. Because then — it happened. A miracle. She noticed a note at the back of the book:

There is a second book in the series: Hunted by Rome.

“Wow,” she breathed. “Is this for real?”

She quickly found the book on Kindle. “Is this how drug addicts feel?” she wondered, because now, with the second book in hand, she felt at peace. It was a good feeling, and she began to read.

Before long, she met Gaius on Patmos, deep in conversation with the apostle John. He was an intriguing man, and when their talk drew to a close, he asked John “Why do you tell me this?” John’s reply: “Because you asked me.” Sarah giggled. Priceless.

Then Gaius met Ruth. Oh my. It was love at first sight — at least in Sarah’s mind. Oh, you silly kids, she thought, you don’t even know you’re in love.

She kept turning the pages, thinking of the early Christians — always alert, always trusting God in dangerous times.

By Saturday, she closed the second book with the same bittersweet mix of joy and loss that comes when a good story ends. Again, her thoughts drifted to David. Such a nice man — and he liked reading too. This could be the perfect excuse to talk to him.

The next morning, during coffee after the service, she spotted him. True to form, he was surrounded by hopeful girls. She mustered her courage.

“David!”

He turned and smiled. “Sarah.” He’d always had a soft spot for her, perhaps because she was the only girl in church who didn’t seem to care about him. He wondered why she was calling him now.

“I’ve just read two books,” she began. “A series. Couldn’t put them down. When I finished, I just wanted more. There’s another one coming soon.”

“Hang on,” David said. “What books?”

“Oh — Living Faith series. Historical Christian fiction. Never heard of the author before — strange name. But you should try them.”

“Sure. They’re on Amazon?”

“Yes. I’ll send you the link.”

They chatted for a few minutes before going their separate ways. Sarah was in awe. I actually talked to him. He smiled at me. He’s going to read the books. He promised. She had to pinch her arm. Ouch — it was real. She went home with a big smile.

David, meanwhile, walked home wondering what had just happened. Sarah was fun to talk to. A breath of fresh air, he thought. That’s why he liked her.

That Tuesday, after work, David opened the first book. Within an hour, Sarah was forgotten — he was in Jerusalem, following Benjamin, Miriam, and their friends. He had often wondered how it might be when Paul met Stephen in heaven. The novel gave him a taste of it. When Leah confronted Saul about the pain she had carried since he persecuted her family, tears poured down David’s face.

“Mom!” he called from the living room. “Do we have any tissues?”

She looked over from the kitchen. “What for? You’re not sick.”

“Just… please. I can’t read when I’m crying — I can’t see the words.”

“Oh, David.” She sighed, handing him a fresh pack. “Why do you read these emotional novels? You know they get to you.”

David finished both books in four days, sneaking pages during lunch breaks. No small talk with colleagues — he had to know what happened next. He stayed up far too late at night, telling himself just one more chapter.

By midnight on the second night, he had finished book one and, without hesitation, started book two.

Oh, Sarah, he thought, you’re ruining my nights by giving me these books to read.

Now he was far into the hills around Ephesus with Ruth and Gaius… yes, he was fortunate not to be doing the same today, hunted for his faith. Still, fleeing through the mountains — perhaps with Sarah — might not be so bad after all, he mused with a smile. But he would miss the comfort of home.

The following Sunday, he found Sarah at church coffee.

“So?” she asked eagerly. “Did you read them?”

“Oh yes. Loved them. You know Mara — I couldn’t stand her.”

“I know.” Sarah nodded. “She was awful.”

“Did you cry a bit?” she asked with a coy smile.

“No, no. It was emotional, but crying? Not me,” he said, trying to sound convincing. Seriously, why would she ask that?

“You know, David, I met your mom at the store yesterday,” she said innocently. She was enjoying herself — teasing him felt better than she had imagined, and she felt a warm glow inside from the closer connection.

“Yes, I guess you talked a bit. She always talks,” he said, a little nervous.

“Yes, and she told me she was stocking up on tissues because her big boy at home was in a mess over some odd books.”

“Okay, okay, I might have cried a little. But it was sort of good and sad at the same time — you know what I mean?”

“Oh, I know. I had it just like you, sitting there with tears flooding down my face, tissues always at hand. That’s why I had to recommend those books to you. They did something to me.”

“They sure did,” he said with a nod. “And I’m looking forward to book three — Scroll and Sword.”

“So do I!” Sarah exclaimed warmly.

They talked until the crowd thinned. Then David said, “Want to come over for dinner? Mom’s made something good. Afterwards, maybe we can take a stroll in the forest.”

Sarah smiled, wide as the morning sun. “I’d love to.”

I blinked, coming back to my desk, my sales chart still on the screen. The spike was only a number — but in my mind, it had a story. And maybe, somewhere out there, that story was real.