Strongholds

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  “That’s good. I need to adopt that one myself. ‘Early is on time and on time is late.’ Got it.” Monica looked down. “I have you in Conference Room C: ‘Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.’ Matthew eleven twenty-eight.”

  “Thanks, Monica. I suppose, if it’s okay, I’ll go on in, pray, and anoint the room before Fatima Adams gets here.”

  “Yes, you can go right on in. You have the room until noon. If she arrives early, do you want me to hold her until ten or what?”

  “No, I’ll be ready when she gets here. So should she arrive early, just send her in, and she and I can get started. It’s not like I’ll be in there with anyone else, so it will be fine whenever she’s ready.”

  Johnnie Mae went into the conference room. She set her things down on the table and began to walk around. After about fifteen minutes, she began to pray. “Lord, I thank You that everywhere my feet tread is now anointed. I thank You for anointing my mind with the right words to say. I thank You that I am blessed to be a blessing. I thank You that I have the mind of Christ. I yield my thoughts, my opinions, my mouth, my tongue, my heart, totally to You, Father God. Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight. Lord, I thank You today, captives will be set free. I pull down every stronghold that tries to exalt itself above the knowledge of You and Your Word, O God. Guide me O thou great Jehovah. Anoint me with thou free spirit. Help me to help Your people. I now decrease so that You may increase in my words and my deeds. Let Your light so shine in me that the lives I touch today may see Your light shining through me. It’s not about me, Father. This is all about You and You getting the glory. These blessings I pray and thank You for, in the name of Jesus who is our Advocate and who sits on Your right hand making intercessions for us. Amen.”

  “Amen,” a voice said.

  Johnnie Mae turned around. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I hope it’s all right,” Fatima said. “I know I’m early, but Sister Monica said it was okay for me to come right on in.”

  “Oh, it’s fine. I was just setting the atmosphere.”

  “Just from what I heard, I think I may already have been ministered to.” Fatima walked closer to Johnnie Mae. “Sister Landris, I’m Fatima Adams.”

  “Please, just call me Johnnie Mae. It took me long enough to get here.” Johnnie Mae motioned for her to sit down.

  “Excuse me? Get here? I don’t mean to pry, but what do you mean by that?”

  “My name. I used to be hung up on people not calling me Johnnie Mae. There was a time, after I was grown, when I wouldn’t let anyone call me that. It had to be J. M. or don’t call me anything.” Johnnie Mae smiled as she took a seat. “Thank God for deliverance.”

  “Well, I know a lot of people who will insist that you call them Sister or Brother, Minister, Reverend, Doctor, Pastor, Evangelist, Prophet, Prophetess, Bishop, or whatever title to the office they happen to be holding. It can be so confusing and so paralyzing when you’re trying to remember who is what and you don’t want to offend them.”

  “Yes, I’ve known some people who have gotten pretty hot if you didn’t address them by their title. But I suppose to them it’s a matter of respect. And I respect that. Me, personally, just call me a servant of the Most High God. The only thing that sometimes bothers me is when people try to hyphenate my two last names when it’s not hyphenated. No matter how many times I tell them otherwise, they still do it.”

  “Two last names?”

  “Yes. You see, I’m an author—”

  “I didn’t know that,” Fatima said. “You write real books for a real publisher?”

  Johnnie Mae smiled. “Well, yes, if you put it like that. I write real books, and I have a real publisher who publishes them.” Johnnie Mae didn’t want to get into so much about her career, but it seemed to make Fatima more relaxed before they began.

  “Wow, I can’t believe I’m getting to meet a real live author. I write, but my stuff is mostly poetry. I’m not trying to get anything published or anything like that. I just do it for my own benefit.”

  “I meet a lot of people who tell me they write or are working on a book.”

  “So what do you write?”

  “Mainstream fiction, although people are starting to classify me as being more of a Christian fiction writer lately. In fact, my publisher just decided they want to release my next book as a Christian novel. They were looking into getting into that market, so it looks like I’ll be launching their Christian line next year.”

  “That’s great. I’m sorry, I interrupted what you were saying about hyphenating your name, but it’s just I didn’t realize you were an author. I knew you and Pastor Landris have a book out there that’s here at the church, but I thought that was the extent of your published work.”

  “I was just saying that when people hyphenate my name when it’s not to be hyphenated, it changes my name completely. When people go into a bookstore and ask for a book by Taylor-Landris, there’s no such author name, so they are told they don’t have my book. It can really mess an author up, especially when the books are not readily available on the shelf. Then there are some people who don’t realize I’m still using Johnnie Mae Taylor as my publishing name instead of Johnnie Mae Landris. So they go in and ask for a book by an author named Landris. I have no idea whose book, if anyone’s, they end up with.”

  “Johnnie Mae Taylor?”

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’ve read one of your books before. I can’t believe it. I didn’t realize you were the Johnnie Mae Taylor who wrote books. Wait till I tell my friend Gia.”

  Johnnie Mae smiled. “Well, enough about names and what I do. We’re here today to talk about what’s going on with you.”

  “Where do you want to begin?”

  “For you and me, we will begin with a short prayer. And then wherever you’d like to kick this off, we’ll begin from there. The middle, the beginning, whatever it was that caused you to feel the need to come in today for counseling. Wherever it feels right to you, I’m here. And between me, you, and God, I believe you’re going to leave here different than when you came in.”

  Fatima tried to smile but only nodded. With heads bowed, Johnnie Mae prayed.

  “Okay, whenever you’re ready.” Johnnie Mae fixed herself to make Fatima as comfortable telling her story as possible. Her goal was not to appear judgmental or shocked about anything she might hear over the course of this counseling session.

  Fatima, on the other hand, wasn’t sure how what she was about to say to the pastor’s wife—no less—would play out. She just knew she had to tell somebody!

  Chapter 31

  Let him know, that he which converteth the sinner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins.

  —James 5:20

  Fatima told Johnnie Mae about a man she had been seeing for over three years. How much she loved and cared about him. How much she believed he really did care about her. How hard it had been having a relationship with him. The fact that he was married with small children. How he began early on in the relationship telling her how awful things were for him with his wife. How he was planning to get a divorce. How hard it is for men to leave because of the negative things men have to deal with after a breakup or divorce.

  “Negative things?” Johnnie Mae said. “Did he say what?”

  “Like not being able to see his children the way he would like. Women traditionally get the children and men only get to see them on weekends. He seems to genuinely love his children, and he said he wanted to be with them every day while they were growing up. That’s important to him. They’re expecting another baby now,” Fatima said as she fidgeted with one thing and then another. “And he said then there’s the baby-mama-drama he hears about from his friends who are dealing with divorce. Well, I know a lot of that to be true from some of my friends. But if you ask me, I’d say from a spiritua
l standpoint, he thinks divorce is wrong based on certain scriptures he’s read in the New Testament, ‘in red’ as he says, ‘which means Jesus said it.’ So that’s another thing I think that’s messing with his head and his decisions.”

  “Hold up. Now, I know we are not here to address him and his problems since this is really about you and what you need to do. But you’re telling me he has a problem with divorce because it’s something Jesus spoke about in the New Testament, but he doesn’t have a problem with committing adultery or looking upon a woman with lust in his eyes?”

  “I know, I know,” Fatima said. “When I say it out loud, it sounds crazy even to me. But I’m having such a hard time because I really do love him and it’s hard to stop. I came forward a few months back when Pastor Landris prayed for people to be released from their strongholds, and I seemed to have been doing okay for a while. I was attending the Bible study and the support group. But then he would call and my heart would react and break all over again. Then…came my birthday a few weeks back.”

  “So do you want to tell me what happened?”

  “Not really, but I suppose that’s what caused me to call yesterday to talk with somebody here at the church. I can’t do this on my own anymore.” She started crying. “I just need some help. And I don’t know who to turn to. I don’t know how to fix this. It just hurts so bad! It feels like my heart is being ripped apart daily.”

  Johnnie Mae handed her the box of tissue. “It’s going to be okay. Just get it out so Satan can’t keep using this against you. It’s apparent you’re being tortured. Jesus came that you might be set free, but you’re not free. Look at how this is affecting you.”

  “No, I’m not free by any means. And this does have me all messed up.”

  “Do you need some water?”

  “Yes, please,” Fatima said as she dabbed at her eyes and tried to compose herself.

  Johnnie Mae got up and poured water from the pitcher on the other end of the table. She handed it to Fatima and rubbed her gently on her back to comfort her. “Feeling any better now?”

  Fatima nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break down like that. It’s just people have no idea how hard something like this can be. I know it was partially my fault. That’s the thing: when you start into something of this nature, and it doesn’t always matter what sin or stronghold it is, it’s hard to stop. You don’t get in it thinking it can be this complicated or heart-wrenching, and by the time you figure it out, it’s almost too late to stop the snowball that’s now rolling out of control and faster down the hill.”

  “Well, I’m going to sit right here for as long as you need me, to get this all out so you can be able to go from here.”

  “But don’t you have other appointments? Other things you need to do?”

  “No. So far, there’s nothing keeping me from giving you all the time you need.”

  Fatima looked down at the tissue she clutched in her hand. “Before my birthday, whenever he would call, I just wouldn’t answer the phone. If he left a message, I wouldn’t return the call. Once I even ran into him at church—”

  “So he’s a member here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow, Pastor Landris has a lot of work to do, I see,” Johnnie Mae said. “Is he in a leadership position?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry. Please, go on.”

  “As I was saying, I ran into him at church one Sunday, and we ended up sitting next to each other with his wife on the other side of him. Of course, we acted like we barely knew each other.” Fatima took another sip of water. “After I got home, he called me.”

  “And you answered.”

  “Exactly. I was so upset with him, I didn’t know what to do. But it was so hard doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Sitting by him and trying to keep my mind on Jesus and what the pastor was saying while my emotions were literally kicking me in the stomach. I couldn’t situate my body comfortably in the seat and every now and then he would ‘accidentally’ touch my hand if it was not firmly planted in my lap or ‘accidentally’ rub up against my arm or leg if I wasn’t totally still. So as you can imagine, I sat the whole time squeezed up trying not to let any of our body parts touch each other. It was dreadful!”

  “I can imagine,” Johnnie Mae said as she looked sympathetically at Fatima.

  “No, I don’t think you really can.” Fatima wiped at her tears again. “After I told him to leave me alone that Sunday after church when he called, and that I meant it, he seemed to honor my request.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  “Horrible. Because even though I told him I wanted him to leave me alone, deep down, I really think I wanted him to keep trying. I wanted him to want me enough. It’s so stupid—”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “I’m not talking about me being stupid, but the rationale behind my thinking is stupid. I really wanted him to leave me alone, but deep down, I think I really wanted to know I meant enough to him that he wouldn’t be able to leave me alone. That contradiction just makes no sense. So even though he was granting me my wish, I would catch myself staring at the phone, willing it to ring still, like back when I used to want him to call when we were first together. I was hoping I would answer the phone and he would have called from another number to get past my screening of his number just so I would have to answer it and he could talk to me.” Fatima held her head all the way back and looked up at the ceiling.

  “I wanted him to really want me. And what I figured out was that he didn’t want me that much.” She let her head back down and released a short laugh. “Back up a second and let me say he wanted me, but he really did want to have his cake and eat it, too. So he kept his cake—his wife—but got to consume extra cake on the side—me. Still it was bad for his wife because she was being cheated on. It was bad for me because I didn’t really have that special person to care about me and only me.”

  “And for him?”

  “Yeah, and for him, how did it affect him? Let’s see…His biggest problem was trying to figure out how to juggle his family and his woman on the side and keep us all happy. His biggest problem was deciding who would get him and when. Poor thing. What a problem to have to deal with.” She took another drink of water.

  Johnnie Mae noticed her glass was almost empty. She picked up the pitcher of ice and water and poured some more into Fatima’s glass.

  “Thank you.” Fatima took yet another drink. “So on my birthday this year, which in the past I usually spent alone or with a few girlfriends if they didn’t have anything else planned with their boyfriends or husbands, which most times they did, he sent me flowers. And not just one bouquet of flowers, but a dozen yellow roses in addition to this gorgeous, exotic mixed bouquet. Had them delivered within thirty minutes of each other. Then I received a box from this exclusive designer shop located in Mountain Brook, and it had this stunning hand-beaded dress that I would have never purchased for myself. Believe me, I will spend money on clothes, but I don’t know if I would have ever spent that kind of money on a dress like that one. Trust me: he put out a good chunk for that dress for sure.”

  “So he sent you flowers and a dress for your birthday?”

  Fatima smiled. “Yes, he sent me those, and then another delivery came. This wonderful birthday cake, delivered by none other than him.”

  “And you let him come inside.” Johnnie Mae said it as though she was telling the story now.

  “Yes, I let him come inside.” Fatima looked into Johnnie Mae’s eyes. “I hope you’re not thinking I’m this horrible person.”

  Johnnie Mae touched her hand. “I’m not judging you right now. I’m allowing you time to judge this for yourself. But it’s important that you face some truths, and the only person who can do that is you.”

  “But aren’t you allowed to judge me…to call me an adulterer, a fornicator, some loose woman with no morals, a husband stealer, a home wrecker, Jezebel’s daughter?”<
br />
  “Some people believe they have that right to judge others. Personally, I’m working on some things I need to get right about myself. I figure I have my hands full just keeping my own flesh under the subjection of the Holy Spirit. With me walking in the Spirit, which is the only way I know of to not walk in the flesh, that’s a full-time job, right there,” Johnnie Mae said with a smile. “When do I have time or a place to judge others? You just need to make better choices. And to really think about what’s going on.”

  “You’re just being kind.”

  “No, I’m just being honest. You see, there are sins of the flesh and sins of the spirit. Were I to glory in your problems, thinking I’m so much better than you because I’m not doing what you are, then I’m walking in a sin right there. My sin then becomes one of the heart. Not one that people can see outwardly, but it’s inside. But guess who sees my thoughts, when I don’t think the right way?” Johnnie Mae shook her head.

  “You may not know it or see it, but God sees when I sin inwardly and no one else has a clue,” Johnnie Mae continued. “You’re getting an opportunity right now to make your outwardly sin right. But people with sins of the heart, sometimes they don’t feel that accountability factor to do anything about sins they may be committing over and over again. But God knows it. And I want to be right with God always. If there’s something there—whether inside or out—I want God to help me get it right. Not because I’m saved by my works, but because I want to grow in Him. Because I don’t want to be a stumbling block to anyone who may be looking at me and seeing me in my sin. I don’t want someone to miss heaven because my light wasn’t shining and people weren’t able to see the glory of the Lord shining through me. I don’t want to be a hindrance to someone else’s getting into the kingdom.”