Jesus Calling Novels & Stories

The heat crawled up my spine like something waking inside me. Then I heard him. Malik. They think they can wash me out of you. Let’s show them who you belong to. The shadows in the corners of the room stretched longer, darker. The gospel track twisted, voices dragging slow like syrup. Aunt Dee took one trembling step closer. “Jesus, cover this child—” The bottle shattered in her hand. Glass and oil spilled across the floor. The scent of anointing filled the room—sweet, heavy, choking. And then he was there.

When he pulled it free, he noticed an unfamiliar number calling him. "Is everything okay?" She asked him as he got to his feet. "Of course, darling. I'm just going to answer this and see who it is." He smiled reassuringly as he stepped outside. The February chill hit him like a bus. He shuddered before answering the call. "Is this Mr. Iscariot?" A woman's voice spoke up from the other end before he could say anything. "This is, may I ask who is calling?" He asked in return as he leaned against the wooden railing.

Rebecca was already getting so tensed up. "Enough, Mother! He loves me. None of what you are saying is true. Call his number for me. I need to speak with him. I need him to know that I am awake. Watch and see how he would come running to see me." "Please, Mother, call my fiancé," Jessica pleaded, her voice faint. Her words pierced through her mother's heart. She picked up Jessica's phone and dialed Nicholas' number. After the third ring, Nicholas answered the call. "Hello," his deep voice came through the phone.

Schedule, contacts. Number. "Praise the Lord," I whispered with more strength in my voice than usual for a prayer. I copied it, saved it in a blank contact and dialed. It rang. And rang. Nobody answered. I called again. Same result. The third time I had already been biting my inner lip, whispering in hopes he would respond. The fourth time, I pressed the phone even tighter to my ear and prayed silently, the silent, desperate sort of prayer that is really more of a bargain than anything. My life depended on this; well, the next three months of it anyway.

God, remind me never to listen to Alexa again. I groan to my ringing phone and touch every space in my bed with my eyes still closed. I grab my phone and answer the call and slightly press it to my ear with my eyes still closed. " Ariel." " Who's this?" " Jesus , you didn't save my number? It's Alex." " Oh. Hey , hi." " Where are you?" " I'm at home." I reply with a sleepy voice. " Home? Which home?" Is she kidding me? How many homes do I have?

asked Black Jesus “MJ. That sounds awesome.” Said the Commander “MJ it is then… I`ll call him MJ.” I sighed, “But that`s not what I called you here for. I didn’t call you hear for your positive motivations, Advocate. I called you here because you are a Cruel man and you taught me to be cruel towards this world. I called you here because you are Black Jesus, my brother`s friend, one who can think above Mastermind`s mind. You died twice in front of me and rose from the dead later. And I called you here because you are a Prison Commander all because of me, I made you.”

Jesus replied. “The devil then led him to the holy city and forced him to stand on the temple's highest point, saying, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down. For it is written: "'He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands so that you will not strike your foot against the stone.'"Jesus replied, "It is written,' Do not put the Lord your God to the test.' Rhoda continues reading the verses to Rudolf.

At least when I first saw him because he had known me for a long time. I fell from my seat. I leaned back and then closed my eyes. I want to get out of my office and drink coffee. But instead of that happening, I just got more stressed. Something is bothering my mind even more. I was startled when my personal phone suddenly rang. I looked and Yeshua was calling there. I immediately answered it. "What is it?" I will ask. "Your opening is beautiful." I was in agony even though he couldn't see. “Every time you call, you always need something. So, what is it this time?”

She loves the moon; she would stare up and howl. I wish she were here; I miss her. “You came…” Zeus announces himself, making me stare from the moon at him, standing under the tree by the swing that I now consider mine. “Pardon?” “I called for you, and you came.” “You called?” I ask, confused, walking towards the swing and him instantly. “Only gods and goddesses can hear the call within the wind,” he shrugs one shoulder, lifting it as if it were a mountain rather than a part of his anatomy.

Not the gentle, contemplative kind but the kind where spirit and soul wrestle beneath the weight of divine interruption. “God, what is this?” he cried. “Why me? Why now?” No voice answered audibly this time. But a scripture formed clearly in his mind: “Then the Lord put forth His hand, and touched my mouth. And the Lord said unto me, ‘Behold, I have put my words in your mouth.’” Jeremiah 1:9 James opened his grandmother’s Bible again. That verse was already underlined not by him. His phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.