The Designer Bag at the Garbage Dump, page 1
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Endorsements
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Endnotes
About Jackie Macgirvin
© Copyright 2012–Jackie Macgirvin
All rights reserved. This book is protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America. This book may not be copied or reprinted for commercial gain or profit. The use of short quotations or occasional page copying for personal or group study is permitted and encouraged. Permission will be granted upon request. Unless otherwise identified, Scripture quotations are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. Please note that Destiny Image’s publishing style capitalizes certain pronouns in Scripture that refer to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and may differ from some publishers’ styles. Take note that the name satan and related names are not capitalized. We choose not to acknowledge him, even to the point of violating grammatical rules.
DESTINY IMAGE® PUBLISHERS, INC.
P.O. Box 310, Shippensburg, PA 17257-0310
“Promoting Inspired Lives.”
This book and all other Destiny Image, Revival Press, MercyPlace, Fresh Bread, Destiny Image Fiction, and Treasure House books are available at Christian bookstores and distributors worldwide.
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ISBN 10: 0-7684-4145-5
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Ebook: 978-0-7684-8815-9
For Worldwide Distribution, Printed in the U.S.A.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 / 13 12
Acknowledgments
Thanks to all my friends who read and made invaluable comments: Lori Garcia, Linda Sprague (also my technical support person; I’d be lost without you, seriously!) and Sarah Butterfield.
To Julie Kandal, who ministers to orphans in India and who read for accuracy.
To Marsha Foix for doing research on the Indian Mafia and looking up Scripture references.
Special thanks to Jackie McLeod, my go-to person for excellent plot suggestions and feedback. Without you, this book would be much thinner and rather boring!
Thanks to Bob Hartley and the Deeper Water’s team for all the great hope teachings from your awesome morning prayer meetings. May they bless others as much as they have blessed me.
Thanks to Ronda Ranalli and the awesome, creative, and unique team at Destiny Image.
Endorsements
Jackie Macgirvin’s latest book, The Designer Bag at the Garbage Dump, is an imaginative journey of the heart—full of action and surprises. Julie, an unlikely heroine, starts out as a conflicted, self-absorbed, obsessively shallow woman whose world is transformed by an inexplicable event that transports her to a chaotic foreign culture where she finds herself faced with choices that evoke valor and faith she didn’t know she possessed. The story is about personal transformation and how one person’s change of heart brings redemption, joy, and justice to others. Jackie brings to life the natural and supernatural dimensions of the human dilemma through her characters’ journey and most of all through the real power of faith to bring the heart home.
Bonnie Chavda
Senior Pastor, All Nations Church
Touché! Jackie Macgirvin has done it again. The Designer Bag at the Garbage Dump is a real page turner that gives you great insight in the very heart of God and His passionate love for every tongue, tribe, and nation!
Kevin Basconi
Author of The Reality of Angelic Ministry Today Trilogy
King of Glory Ministries International
www.kingofgloryministries.org
* * *
Religion that God the Father accepts…is this:
caring for orphans (James 1:27a NCV).
* * *
FOREWORD
Powerful teaching can be hidden in stories. This is why Jesus taught in parables. You hold in your hand the story that highlights truths we need to embrace in our journey to die to ourselves. Though slow and painful, it is necessary in order to totally live for Him. I have learned through the years that setting our heart to obey Him 98% does not leave us with vibrant spirit. But, giving 100% of ourselves brings 100% of Him. What an incredible exchange!
Learn about the struggle for total surrender by watching Julie’s life and read the rich rewards that come to her as a result: intimacy with the Lord, a change in perspectives and priorities, a love for people, a healed heart, relational changes, joy and the alleviation of stress and disease.
The second theme of this book is our attitude toward the poor. Reading this book will give an increased inspiration and vision to touch the poor. I challenge you to grapple with the issue of what it looks like to live a simple lifestyle in our western, affluent consumer-oriented culture. Do our checkbooks distinguish us from our unsaved neighbors? Is most of our time consumed by our work in order to pay for more possessions? Beloved, it is best to settle these issues now, not tomorrow or in ten years. Read, learn, be inspired and be changed by His abundant grace!
Mike Bickle, Director
International House of Prayer
Kansas City, Missouri
CHAPTER
1
MUMBAI, INDIA
Agaily painted dump truck, covered in yellow and red swirls, drove too fast through the pounding rain. The driver held a cup of chai in his right hand along with the wheel and reached to the passenger seat to grab a pastry. He sped toward a narrow bridge over a deep gulf.
In the backseat of the family car, nine-year-old Ravi held his favorite toy, Silly Putty®, contained in a red plastic egg. Next to him was the suitcase his mother had filled with his clothes, toys, homework, and snacks. A large, leather-bound astronomy book was opened to the chapter on the Horsehead Nebula. As the rain intensified, his father kicked the wipers to high.
“Are we there yet?” asked Ravi.
His father chuckled.
“No,” replied his mother. “We’ve been driving for 15 minutes; the drive is 15 hours.”
“I don’t even remember my uncle.”
“That’s OK. The last time you saw him you were only four. You will remember this trip. Your cousin Gitika is getting married.”
At that moment, Ravi dropped the egg, and it rolled under his mother’s seat. On his hands and knees, he reached for it.
“What is my uncle’s name? Where does he live?”
“He’s your father’s brother. He is also a doctor like your father—”
As the dump truck barreled across the small bridge, the cup slipped from the driver’s hand and the hot chai scalded his lap. He screamed in pain. The truck swerved into the other lane.
To avoid a head-on collision, Ravi’s father turned a hard left just before entering the bridge, and the car became airborne. It smashed on the rocks of the riverbank 40 feet below, where it was obscured from view. It hit nose first and settled right side up. The truck’s driver sped down the road unaware.
CHAPTER
2
GARDEN OAKS, NEW YORK
Michael was absorbed in an article, “New York City Waterfront Vision and Enhancement Strategies,” when he heard Julie’s key in the front door of their flawlessly decorated Victorian home. He dropped his copy of The Architect’s Newspaper and sprang into action; he fanned the magazines on the coffee table, picked up Logan’s toys and tossed them into the antique basket in the corner, and scanned the room quickly to make sure nothing else was out of place.
He sunk back on the floral fainting couch just as Julie burst in the door like a whirlwind. Her shoulder-length brown hair was perfectly styled. Her designer skirt and jacket were perfectly tailored to her tall, slim frame. She removed her leather sandals and gave the room a quick scan. Walking toward the couch, she pocketed the Silly Putty® egg that Michael had overlooked.
She dropped a department store bag in front of the couch, re-fanned the magazines more to her liking, and then held her hands and one foot out for her husband’s inspection.
“What do you think?”
“What do you mean, ‘what do I think?’” he asked, laying his paper aside.
“Isn’t this just the perfect color of pink? I know I was only going to get a manicure, but…pedicures just feel so good. It’s such a luxury to have someone fuss over me.” She noticed a loose hair on Michael’s shoulder and picked it off.
“Well, I don’t think I’d want anyone messing with my feet, but I’m glad you’re happy,” said Michael from his spot on the couch. “What’s in the bag?”
“I unpacked t
“I’ll wear it tomorrow, shopping—”
“You bought an outfit to shop in? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” Michael crossed his arms and let out a deep breath.
“Well….” She held up the brightly colored green and yellow dress with a tag that said, “Made in India.” “It’s casual and comfortable; the colors are almost neon. It will be perfect for the train and traipsing all over New York tomorrow. Feel how light the fabric is, and of course, I took advantage of the employee discount.”
Must count to ten. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10. Deep breath, Michael. OK. “Julie, we’ve been over this before. Employee discounts don’t save you money; they cost you money.”
“But I would have bought it anyway.”
“It’s the 24th of the month. Where are you with your clothing budget?”
“Under.”
“But what about this shopping trip?”
“It’s exempt. I planned it before the budget was in place. It’s not frivolous; I need new clothes for work.” She plopped down on the couch next to him.
“And tell me again why you need more clothes. I designed you a mammoth walk-in,” he spread his arms wide, “and it’s bulging at the seams.”
“Maybe need isn’t the right word, but you know how everyone at the store dresses perfectly. When I look good, I feel better about myself. It gives me confidence at work, and people seem to respect me more, so,” she twisted her hair around her index finger, “I just buy them, and you know we can certainly afford them. It’s my little splurge. We’ve all got our issues.”
“But, Julie, you have so many clothes.”
“I know. I’ll donate some of them. When I wear something too many times I just feel, I don’t know, like a bag lady.”
“You are definitely the best dressed bag lady in the world. Why don’t you take up a hobby that’s cheaper, like keeping thoroughbred race horses?”
Julie looked wounded.
“I’ll get back on budget in August. I promise.”
“I’ve got to pay down some of these remodeling bills and new furniture you bought—”
“Those are one-time bills, Michael. I won’t have to buy a couch or bedroom suite for Logan for years.” She hugged him. “I don’t mean for you to be stressed about the finances. This will be my final splurge. I promise.”
“OK, Julie. I’ll try to believe you.”
“Mommy,” shrieked nine-year-old Logan as he ran into the room.
“Hey, buddy! Give me a hug.” Julie wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.
“I missed you today. Ran some errands after work. Did you and dad eat?” She tousled his blond hair and looked into his cobalt blue eyes.
“Yep, my favorites. Peanut butter and jelly, macaroni and cheese, and Popsicles®.”
“Well, your dad is quite the gourmet, isn’t he?” she smiled as she glanced toward Michael, who had conveniently buried his face in his trade journal.
“Did he say ‘Popsicles®?’” asked Julie.
“Hey, we all have our issues.”
“Read to me, Mommy!” Logan yanked her by the hand, unaware he was rescuing his dad.
“I’ll finish the new book we started yesterday, and, Logan,” she tossed him the Silly Putty®, “we’ve had the conversation before—kitchen table only.”
Everything in Logan’s bedroom was decorated around a cowboy theme— lamp, area rug, curtains, artwork, and trinkets. Cowboy hats, lariats, and bandanas were painted on the headboard.
Logan played contentedly with his Legos® while Julie read page after page of an adventure story about a boy Logan’s age who escaped from kidnapping pirates.
“…and after the last pirate walked the plank, Mark turned the ship for home.”
Logan jumped up, gave a salute, and announced, “I could do that. I’m brave!”
Julie closed the book. “Well, I think you are brave, but maybe you’d need to be a little older before you take on a vicious band of marauding pirates. Dad and I will always be here to protect you as long as you need us. Go take your bath; then come get me. Don’t forget, all the Legos® in the drawer.”
“Mom, at Jeffrey’s house he gets to leave them out, and we took the sheets off his bed and made a tent over chairs and then slept in it all night.” He smiled broadly at the memory.
“If Jeffrey’s mom wants to be messy, that’s up to her. I feel better when everything’s nice and neat.”
“And he doesn’t have to make his bed in the morning.”
She frowned, “Logan, you know the rules.”
Logan glanced at her with a mute appeal.
Julie sat on the couch next to Michael. He closed his trade journal again.
“Nine years old, and he thinks he’s ready to take on the world,” said Julie, sorting the magazines from newest to oldest.
“Huh?”
“Logan. He thinks he’s invincible. So sure he could escape from a band of pirates like the hero in the book.”
“That’s normal. Little boys are all about action and adventure and pirates’ treasure. As a former little boy, trust me. My brothers and I played pirates and cowboys and Indians. We even had intergalactic battles to save the Earth from invading Martians. If it wouldn’t run away, we’d strategize how to conquer it.”
He sighed, lost in his thoughts. “My brothers and I had so much fun together. I wish Logan had a brother to play with. Just think, you could have had three raiding, looting, pillaging, plundering pirates running all over the place! Aaarrg, matey,” he said as he pulled his wife close for a kiss. Julie smiled at his antics, but he caught her sad expression.
“I can promise you, little girls are definitely more about playing dress up than saving the planet.”
He took her hand and pretended to admire her nails. “So are big girls, too. It’s just the perfect color of pink!” he squealed excitedly. Julie pulled her hands away and smiled. She prepared to whack him with the pillow, but he was saved again when Logan called.
“I’m ready.”
They both entered his bedroom.
“OK, TV off for the night,” said Julie, interrupting the theme song for the Andy Griffith Show. The small, flat screen TV was part of a media center in Logan’s room that included all the latest technology.
“Look at you, you’re wearing your cowboy pajamas. Maybe you’ll dream about riding horses tonight. Jump in, partner,” she said as Michael folded back the down comforter, exposing the cowboy sheets. After tucking him in and a little more chitchat, she folded her hands. “Let’s pray. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen.”
“Amen,” he repeated.
“Amen,” said Michael.
She sat on the bed next to him.
“I get extra kisses tonight because I’ll be gone when you get up. I’m meeting grandpa for breakfast, and then I’m going to New York. Remember?” Logan nodded.
“You and dad will have a fun weekend. He has all kinds of things planned for you two. And,” she said, scanning the room, “you did a great job picking up your toys!” She covered his face with kisses and he grinned.
“Sleep well,” said Michael, giving his son a kiss. “Don’t forget, it’s just you and me,” he lowered his voice, “and Popsicles® the whole weekend!” Logan gave him a high-five. Julie gave Michael a look that implied, Well, maybe I need to talk to you about that.
Julie and Michael headed for the kitchen. While washing her hands with anti-bacterial soap, Julie said, “I have a surprise. Look in the freezer. Crab and brie quiche!”
As the quiche heated in the microwave, she wiped the fingerprints off the door and quickly wiped the sink and the toaster. Then she washed her hands again.
“Michael, how soon do you think you’ll be able to get the mudroom painted?”
Please, not with the paint again! he thought. “Not this weekend. I’ll be a stay-at-home dad for the next two days. Got a lot of things planned to keep us busy.” The microwave beeped, and she handed him one of the plates.
“Now that I’ve finalized the decision on the paint color, I just can’t wait to see it on the walls.”
