Guest Blog: Ashley Thompson and Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul

Dear Readers,

I hope you are well! I'm home after a shopping trip with my daughter in NYC, and loving the warmer weather here at home in South Carolina! Now, to our author--while I love meeting new authors, I am honored by repeats. Ashley has been with us before and I love her spirit!

Please join me in welcoming Ashley...

Introduce yourself—name, where you’re from, and something people notice when they

meet you.

My name is Ashley Thompson. I was born on the tropical Island of Nassau,

Bahamas, but I grew up in a quaint Mediterranean coastal town in California. The

first thing people notice about me is my bright smile and amber eyes. I’ve been told

many times that I have a beautiful smile. Because my mother is part French, I was

born with blue eyes, but they eventually changed into this golden brown color.

Tell us about your book—title and back cover blurb?

Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul explores the sacred theology of Jesus as the Church’s

Bridegroom, using fictional stories painted with tender intimacy. This book gently

unravels the ageless waters of human desire for everlasting love in a storybook manner

that sparks the imagination, exposes hidden wounds, and nourishes the soul. Through

deeply warm conversations, unsuspecting characters encounter Jesus in various places

and come to find Him as the healing Lover of their souls. Ultimately, this book was

designed to usher the reader into the comforting arms of Jesus, where He can make them

whole with pure love.

Blurb:

For centuries, the female heart has burned with desire for the lasting pleasure of

unchanging love. In the course of time, civilizations have risen and fallen, yet the longing

for tangible intimacy has never faded. Millions of lyrics have been written to the

passionate tune of this fluid yearning.

Unfortunately, few people find the lasting love they’ve longed for, even as children. Life, education, and societal pressures transform what was once a tangible hope into a mythical fairy tale. Industries have reaped unlimited monetary gain from the erosion of this hope.

Billions of girls grow up to become women who have long since tossed their dreams of

true love in the trash bin of cynicism. Countless others have buried their ache of unmet desire under the disappointment of failed relationships and hopelessness.

Despite most women’s best attempts, this starved craving remains alive, like a

stimulating aroma. This ethereal hope goes back to the first relationship, in a place of

being so “seen” and “lovingly known” that “she” was naked and unashamed.

This novella was not written to add salt to the gaping wound of unsatisfied need. It was

written to satisfy the need completely. Let Romantic Rendezvous for the Soul introduce

you to a lasting relationship with Transcendent Love, where reality becomes sweeter than

your dreams.

Share an excerpt?

Chapter 2 Coffee Shop Ministry

“What makes your beloved better than any other?

What is it about him…?” – Jerusalem Maiden, Brides-to-Be

—Song of Songs 5:9b TPT

Spicy aromas wafted in the shop. Warm ginger mingled with clove, pine, ground coffee,

chai, and vanilla. My favorite scent was the buttery pear.

A group of teenagers sat on a plush, red sofa, drinking from decorative mugs while

sharing headphones and watching videos on their laptops.

An elderly couple sat across from one another, talking. The wife reached a trembling

hand over her husband’s tan, leathery one. His amber eyes misted, and I felt his love for her like warm ointment on my chest.

Some young adults were seated around an oval wooden table doing homework. They

were part of a study group. Still, there were others scattered about. I passed a small girl with

pigtails, happily eating a lemon tart. She stopped to look up at Jesus, and he smiled down at her.

Her eyes twinkled with recognition, and she beamed with joy. She was the only one who

recognized Jesus by his presence. I remembered his words about the faith of children. A quick,

voiceless colloquy was exchanged between them. Somewhere in my heart, I knew she had seen

him before tonight, and she would see him again.

“Who is she?” I asked him privately as they parted.

“Jolie is one of my precious daughters,” he began. “She has a pure heart and sees me

often, especially during worship service at her church and in her own private moments of

prayer.”

“She sees you often?”

“Oh yes, almost every week.”

“How is that possible?”

“Because the eyes of her heart are washed with faith, she can see me. There is little doubt

in her mind about who I am and how much I love her.”

Jesus chortled with joy and gave a beaming smile, “I enjoy my time with her at the park

playing hide-and-go-seek. I delight in having tea parties with her and singing lullabies to her as she falls asleep. We share a lot of happiness.”

I half-wondered if Jesus would produce a megaphone and start to shout at the customers

like I’ve seen sidewalk preachers do. Instead, he went up to the counter in a quiet manner. I

remembered the prophecy of Isaiah 42:1-2. “He will not cry out or raise His voice, nor make His

voice heard in the streets.…”

An attractive barista greeted us. She had thick, brown hair that was woven in the back

and hung like glossy rope with tawny blonde highlights. She had bright green eyes and lips the

color of crushed raspberries.

“Good evening, sir. How may I help you?” she asked perfunctorily.

She appeared frazzled. Although she glanced at Jesus, she didn’t see him. He was just

another customer. It was almost as if the repetitive routine of work shuttered her pretty eyes. She asked the same question before her eyes fell to the cash register, ready to proceed with her standard protocol.

I ordered an apple spice tea with sweet buttercream drizzle. “Good choice,” she said.

Jesus remained silent for a few seconds. His eyes scanned her as she stared at the cash register, waiting for him to order next. She looked up at him when he said nothing.

“What would you recommend, Diane?” he asked, with a warm smile. I knew he asked

that question only to rouse her.

Her eyes quickened and her shoulders perked up. “That depends. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling like I could use something with a kick of zest in it.”

The corners of Diane’s lips lifted at his welcoming visage. “We have pineapple tea with

ginger root. That usually provides a nice kick.”

“That sounds good, but I’d like to hear other options.”

Diane began to read off a list of other teas and coffees that were energy givers. She went

through the complete list before he asked, “Which ones are your favorites? For those nights

when you need a booster?”

The woman chortled. “It would be the spiked cider or the whiskey Irish creamed coffee,”

she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “But if you’re looking for a nonalcoholic

solution, I’d recommend the hot chocolate supreme. It has a few shots of caffeine.”

Jesus paused for a moment. “I prefer wine over whiskey, but I don’t think wine would go

well in coffee or tea, do you?”

“No.” She looked up from the cash register as though seeing him for the first time. “What

kind of wine do you like?”

“I like all sorts of wine. Some have even called me a wine bibber.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s a wine bibber?”

Jesus gave her a lopsided grin. “An ancient word for drunkard. I have also been called a

glutton.”

She took in his clear eyes and well chiseled features. “Who would say such a thing?”

“A few very religious people that I know.”

“Shut up!” she said.

When I saw the twinkle in her eyes I felt my own lips curve upward. The laughter of

Jesus rebounded from the walls to the ceiling and caught the attention of several customers. A

few young adults in the study group glanced his way.

I could see some of the sadness lift from Diana’s eyes. “Do you use a wine-making kit?

A friend of mine recently ordered one of those, and I’m looking forward to sharing a glass with

her.” She shrugged. “Trouble is, I rarely have any days off. I am exhausted most of the time.”

I was amazed by how she seemed to open.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Jesus told her. “Try not to allow life’s

pressures get to you. Learn how to say no.”

She nodded, not taking her eyes off his face. “You’re probably right.” Diana straightened

her shoulders, returning to her bistro persona. “So do you use a wine-making kit?”

“No. I have a special recipe; my wine is mainly available for banquets and weddings.”

For a moment, I was shocked, but then I remembered the wedding banquets taking place

in heaven. And the wedding in Cana, where he performed his first public miracle.

“Impressive,” she said, looking back down at the register. “But since you can’t have a

wine-flavored tea, I believe the pineapple ginger is your best bet. As I said earlier, it depends on how you feel.”

“How do you feel?” Jesus asked her.

A flicker of shock crossed her face. “I feel like I could use a booster myself.”

“I know a booster that you can’t get in a tea or a coffee or anything material, but it always

works. And I’d like to give it to you if you’re willing.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “It always works?”

Jesus gave a soft laugh. “It hasn’t failed yet. Millions of people who’ve had this would

tell you so– from centuries ago to modern day, from all around the world to right in this city.”

“How much is it?”

“It’s completely free.”

Diane lifted a skeptical brow, and she tilted her head as though trying to discern Jesus.

Nothing but waves of love came off him. She glanced around. Everyone had been served, and

her co-worker had gone into the kitchen.

“What is it?” Her voice sounded suspicious.

“Not what, but who.”

Misunderstanding his intent, Diane stated, “I have a boyfriend.”

Jesus nodded. “I know you do, and I’m not coming onto you if that’s what you’re

thinking…at least not in that way.”

Diane pressed her lips together. “Then…?”

“It’s Jesus.”

Diane rolled her eyes. “Puhleeze! I’ve had enough of religious jargon. And I’m too old to

be humored by fairy tales.”

“I disagree,” Jesus said.

“What would you like to drink?” Diane cut him off.

“Humor me for a moment, Diane.”

Diane gave an exaggerated sigh and stared him up and down before her demeanor

softened. “Okay,” she said.

“I don’t doubt that you’ve had enough religious jargon. Religion promises people an

abundant life, while simultaneously separating them from the one who is eternal life. I’ve had

enough of religious platitudes myself. But I do question whether you’re being truthful about fairy tales.”

Diane crossed her arms.

Jesus continued. “Think of it. Most movies are composed of fairy tales, even action ones.

There is some level of magic in them—of superhuman strength, of beauty, of endurance, of ideal romance, of triumph and adventure beyond common life. Most songs consist of a yearning for romance, littered with these noble ideas that are often fleeting in

human experience, yet they are an ever-constant source of ache and desire in the human heart.”

Diane’s arms uncrossed as Jesus continued. “If those aren’t fairy tales, then I don’t know what is. Every human heart longs to experience something more than the dreariness of life. That’s why people stuff themselves with fancies, be it food, relationships, temporary thrills like theme parks, drugs, movies, vacations, promotions, possessions–whatever it be. The soul of man knows there’s something more that it was created for, and so most people numb this yearning by stuffing it with entertainment. The only problem is,” he paused. “Is that they’re trying to fill an eternal ache with temporary possessions. Worldly things can never mask heavenly desire. Many have tried, and all of them have failed. Do you not find yourself entertained by these things, Diane?”

When Diane didn’t answer, Jesus replied, “I know you do.” His tone was thick with

compassion that rose like a sweet fragrance.

“Well, religious people entertain themselves with rules and criticizing others. At least

‘secular’ people seek happiness over hate,” Diane retorted. Although her facial expression was

defiant, her voice was strained, and I caught a glimpse of sorrow in her eyes before she drew it

back.

Jesus reached out to Diane with such compassion that I felt a lump rise in my throat.

“Religious people do. You’re right. And I’m sorry for everyone who has hurt you. Truly, I am.

Many people are so busy making religion their god that they don’t allow God in their religion.

Turns out doctrine is much more manageable than God. Those people you speak of are afraid.

They may not know it, but they are. Pride is a form of fear. They seek control, perfection, a way

to escape chaos. They are desperate to measure up for fear of rejection, failure, exposure,

whatever the fear is. They have so many layers of behavior modifications and thought processes piled on top of their fear that they can’t even detect it. And this only serves to separate them from the life and the life-giver that they truly crave. They look to redeem themselves somehow. But there is only one Redeemer. There is only one love that casts out all fear, and those who have that are not ritualistic. That’s what I want to offer you tonight. It’s not denominational jargon, dear Diane. It’s the liberating, glorious life you were made for from the life-giver himself.”

Jesus paused. “Diane, the happiness that people seek is Jesus. Eternal happiness cannot be found elsewhere.”

Ask the blog reader a quirky question or two?

Question 1: What is your first experience with the love of God?

I remember feeling God's love when I was about six years old. A missionary visited my

church and spoke about God in a personal way that touched my heart. When he spoke

about the Holy Spirit, I felt God's love come over me. It was as if I were clothed with

God’s presence. A feeling of unconditional love, wholeness, and healing peace

surrounded me until I felt as if I were in a heavenly cloud. I remember how deeply that

moment affected me to this day, and I plan to share it for the Valentine’s Day chapel at a

Christian school in my town.

Question 2: What is a Valentine’s Day tradition that you and your spouse share?

My husband likes to make me chocolate-covered strawberries for Valentine’s Day. I

think this is very sweet, because he takes his time to melt the chocolate and he carefully

chooses the berries. I have years' worth of memories of us savoring delicious chocolate

strawberries in the comfort of our home.

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