Life by FireA novel by Deborah L. Jones
Any kind of linear thinking is doomed to remain trapped on the surface of life.
But if we experience our minds as multidimensional, we get closer to God’s mind, which is all dimensional.
1942: Dreizehnlinden / Papuan, Santa Catarina, Brazil: In August 1942, a single German submarine sunk five Brazilian vessels in two days, causing more than six hundred deaths and leading Brazil to declare war on the Axis on August 22, 1942. That’s when the war truly reached Dreizehnlinden, forever shifting its foundations.read more
1939 – 1942: Dreizehnlinden, Santa Catarina, Brazil: No sooner had the stalwart community of Dreizehnlinden established foundations, than political unrest and natural disaster combined to shake them to the core.read more
1933 – 1939: Dreizehnlinden, Santa Catarina, Brazil: By the time Gisa grew old enough to go to school, the rudimentary communal barracks had transformed into small neat houses and productive farms, and the settlement of Dreizehnlinden into a community complete with a church and a store, as well as a school.read more
Gisa Catarina Gärtner was born at sea on October 5, 1933, halfway between the province of Tirol, Austria, and the state of Santa Catarina, Brazil, thereby becoming the youngest of 91 Catholic Austrian emigrants headed to found a new colony in the New World.read more
Wednesday, July 22, 2009: My curiosity over the letter’s origin turns to obsession. Who could have written such a letter and under what circumstances? The question rests on my pillow, and the letter under it, as I drift off to sleep that night.read more
Monday, July 20, 2009: In the days that follow, I carry the mysterious letter with me everywhere, pausing often to re-read it and re-examine the envelope.read more
Thursday, July 16, 2009: The year transpires much the same, one distraction to the next. By day, I split myself in two—half domesticated mom, half professional businesswoman—accomplishing neither whole-heartedly. Perpetually fatigued and scattered.read more
Tuesday, February 13, 2007: I awaken to the offensively chipper chatter of morning show hosts from the clock radio at my husband’s bedside. Pulling up my knees, I withdraw deeper into the dark, warm covers and lift them over the back of my head, relieved when he hits “snooze” and heads to the bathroom. A ten-minute reprieve.read more
Monday, February 12, 2007: Death by fire. I dream of dying in a burst of flames. Searing heat traveling from my feet, up my legs, swirling around me. Hot, dry, release. My soul purified by fire—a quick, dramatic death, nothing left but ash. The antithesis of my life.read more