In the very beginning Aspiring Writers’ Forum or A.W.F. as
we like to call ourselves, formed a bond amongst the members who transformed
the table on Wednesday nights, sharing our thoughts in written word, our days
in anecdotal stories and our hopes in words and imagined dreams of the glory
and grace surrounding us. Our friend, Sarah Hutson sat amongst us in those
first couple of years. With a genuine
wit, she always made us laugh.
When I think of Sarah, I think of a spunky, young, single
mom, with a huge heart for her family, her job, and especially her son, Gavin.
She possessed many talents involving theater art, something she thought she
might pursue as a career, but God led her down another path, one she also succeeded
in, encompassing both her intellect, her loving spirit and “family.” Employed
as a social worker, specifically, she walked children and hopeful couples through
the foster and adoption process, a gift of patience, insight and long hours,
she saw the fruition of many hopes and dreams.
Sarah did all this fighting cancer, fighting for her own
life, her own future but in that she trusted God wholeheartedly, as she herself
proclaimed her adoption into God’s family.
In early summer, God gave me an impromptu way to serve
Sarah, and I am so blessed to have had the opportunity to give her a ride home
from church one warm Sunday afternoon. We talked a lot and it wasn’t idle
chit-chat. I asked her a few questions I just wanted to know. I felt comfortable enough around her to
inquire and she shared in transparency, she shared humbly, she shared with her
hopes and dreams still attached. My heart swelled in thankfulness for this
dear, strong woman, my friend, who in her frail and painful state, encouraged
me, made me laugh and believe even more that God’s plans are good and that
light shines in and through the darkness.
As I pulled up to her house, I held her hand and we prayed together, one
last time.
In those first few months of AWF, we did a crazy thing. (Somehow,
I think Sarah helped move this idea forward). Putting together stories of
unique perspectives from the Christmas Story, an Advent book came together. A
collaborative effort, Sarah contributed three stories. I chose to share one of
them here, “The Shepherdess.” I am reminded of my friend, a shepherdess in her
own way, leading lost little lambs to forever families, telling cheerful and
funny stories while waiting and watching in darkness over those things she
loved so dearly. Thank you Sarah, for pointing out the glorious lights in
heaven with your shining courageous Spirit and for inspiring us all with your
faithful, unrelenting hope in a Greater Shepherd who comforts us now in our
tears and our memories.
In love and gratitude, Rest in Peace my friend,
Considerably yours,
Coleene VanTilburg
 |
| Sarah and her son Gavin |
The Shepherdess
By Sarah Hutson
Angels, that’s what she heard. That’s what awakened Deborah
and her family. Even her unborn child seemed alert and moving. At first, she
thought she was dreaming, but when she looked around she saw other shepherds
waking from their huddled groups and staring at the sky. A sky alive with color
and movement that swirled together to form heavenly figures. The sky filled
with the messengers of heaven. The air itself crackled around Deborah and an
unseen force drew her and her loved ones to their feet.
“Be not afraid,” the angels said. “Unto you a Savior is
born, go and worship Him.”
“We are mere shepherds, the lowest of the village,” Deborah
said to her husband. “Why would a Savior be born for us? What right do we have
to worship at His feet?”
Her husband drew her close, “I too am afraid; but they have
told us to go to the Child and bear witness of His birth. I do not understand
why we have been chosen, but I will obey.”
The call of the angels overcame the fears of her mind, and
they began to walk toward Bethlehem. Her hesitant, doubtful steps began to hasten. Those around her seemed to
be walking faster as well; some even began to run. She moved quickly through
the streets, and her husband reached out to help steady her. When he took her
hand, she was surprised to find him shaking. And when she looked into his eyes,
she found them filled with love.
They were told to follow the star, but they were led by
something deep in their souls. They filled the dark, silent streets, searching
for the newborn King. She wondered why the whole town was not awake to see the
Savior, and she realized that the first glimpse of this precious Gift was meant
for them.
She expected to find the Child in a fine inn or a wealthy
home, some place suitable for a king. Instead she found a young mother and
proud father holding a Child wrapped in rough swaddling cloths. They huddled
together in an old stable on the outskirts of town. Deborah knew they had found
what they were looking for. The brightest star in the sky shone down on the stable,
like a beacon in the night guiding a lost ship safely home. She felt her unborn
child move and she rubbed her stomach lovingly. It was then that she realized
this young girl’s Child was born to save her children. He was born to save the
world, now and for all the generations to come. The weight of that realization
brought her to her knees, and she wept with tears of joy.
In the dark of the night, the Light of the World was born
and the most humble amongst them became this miracle’s witness.
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