“But these thoughts won’t go away,” I admitted. Fearfully, I pressed my hands together. Knuckles white. “Perhaps there is beauty—”
“Where are you hearing this? These kinds of thoughts come from Satan himself. He bleeds dissension and temptation into your heart and waits for you to seek him out. He paints pretty pictures all the while masking his evil intentions.” Pastor raised his voice, his cheeks flushed. He ran hands through his thin hair, standing it on end. He looked a bit crazed.
He looked like this when he was preaching. When he was in the throes of something divine. Something holy.
I found myself recoiling slightly. Overwhelmed by his vehemence.
I was reminded of David earlier. Of the comparisons I had drawn to myself.
I was horrified.
“They will die!” he shouted. I flinched. “They will all be burned alive! Is that what you want? To lose your soul to eternal damnation?” His eyes snapped with a fire that consumed.
I shrank in on myself. “No, Pastor. I don’t!”
“You will be lost, Sara! You will be separated from those you love forever. From your mother. From Anne. From me! Because Satan wants you for himself. He’s greedy. He will rip you apart and feast on your still beating heart. Your blood will coat the road to hell!”
I was going to throw up. The image was terrifying. I hated when Pastor got like this. It reminded me too much of the things that had frightened me when I first came to The Retreat.
“I’m sorry, Pastor—”
Pastor shushed me. “Be silent, Sara. You must spend time with your thoughts. Your prayers.”
I began to shake violently. Was he going to take me to The Refuge? He couldn’t send me there. I couldn’t go back. Not after the last time…
I rubbed at the scar on my wrist then stopped, realizing what I was doing.
Bile rose in the back of my throat and black spots swam in front of my eyes. I felt dangerously close to passing out.
I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have told him…
I’m glad he doesn’t know about Bastian. What would he do then?
“Please, Pastor,” I begged. I could barely speak, the horror of The Refuge too great.
Please, Mommy. Don’t leave me!
Pastor’s breathing was shallow and ragged, but he calmed down. He smoothed his hair and took my hands again. They were cold and clammy. Could he feel my fear?
“Everyone has missteps. Our paths are never smooth. I have told my children about the importance of facing temptation. Of looking it in the eye and turning your back on it. Do you want to walk through the gate? Do you want to venture into the outside?” he asked.
I couldn’t say a word. I only shook my head. My eyes pleading.
Please don’t send me to The Refuge…I’m so sorry…I’ll say anything…
“He has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time.” Pastor Carter calmed himself down. He kissed my palm. I loved and hated the feel of his mouth. “I know you don’t want to leave, Sara. You’re too strong. Too special. God put you here for a very specific reason. This is only a test. But you can’t succumb. You can’t cave. The darkness will eat you alive. I won’t be able to save you if you give your soul to Satan.”
“I won’t!” I protested.
He held my hand against his cheek and closed his eyes briefly. I was thankful for the momentary reprieve.
When he opened them again, they were clear and at peace. The passion of earlier had dissipated. “Come lay with me, child.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to me.
I felt beaten down. Emotionally exhausted. I would do anything to make it up to Pastor. For testing his faith in me.
I didn’t want to betray his trust.
Yet there was a niggling in the back of my mind that resisted. That screamed no!
I thought of Bastian. His sad eyes. His soft words. His hope.
The amazing feel of his lips. The total rightness of it.
Was he wrong to think the world beautiful?
Was Pastor wrong to think it evil?
Could my life be my own as Bastian said it could be?
Pastor watched me impatiently. His eyes gleaming. My stomach rolling.
“Sara.” My name sounded like a curse on his lips. Something dirty.
I stood up and took his hand. He led me to a small door. Opening it, I broke out into a cold sweat. My mouth went dry as my body had a visceral reaction to the inky blackness beyond.
I trembled. My belly was finally full. The terror of The Refuge was starting to fade.
But now I felt a different kind of fear.
Even as he looked at me with his kind eyes.
“Sara, lie with me. Let me heal you,” he said softly.
I looked for my mom. But as usual, she was nowhere.
And Pastor was everywhere.
He lit a candle. One solitary flame. “Let me see what God has made,” he murmured.
I hesitated. I knew what he wanted. What I had always done before.
My mind rebelled.
How did this save my soul?
Pastor Carter’s face hardened. “Sara, let me see what God has made.”
Slowly, unsteadily, I peeled off my clothes. I felt as though I were standing in quicksand. Sinking. No escape. I stood before him naked and open. Legs spread. Hands by my side so he could see all of me.
I bowed my head.
At least I wasn’t being taken to The Refuge. Anything was better than that.
Anything?
There were many other things to fear in the dark.
“Come here,” he instructed gently.
He laid me down on the pile of blankets he kept in the center of the room. They smelled stale. As if they hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. I briefly wondered who else had laid on them. How many?
I fought to find the numbness that always aided me. He stretched out beside me, pulling me flush against him. My back pressed to his front. He remained fully clothed.
At the first touch of his hands the numbness came. It took me far away. To the hills. To the river.
To the waterfall with Bastian.
I wouldn’t think. I only listened to his prayers.
“This is God’s work. This is what he wants. Let me take away your pain. Bless this holy child and wash away her sins. Show her the way,” he rasped in my ear.
He loved me. He loved all of his sheep. He took care of us. He would heal us and lead us home.
He loved me.
He would save my soul.
I floated away. Into the sky.
“Get dressed, Sara,” he said after some time. His voice thick and his breathing ragged. I wouldn’t look at him. I kept my head down.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
He led me back to the room of glass. The numbness was replaced with relief.
There would be no refuge today. I could be thankful for that at least. My body belonged to Pastor. To God.
“To yourself, Sara. Only yourself,” Bastian whispered in my ear, as though he were beside me.
“God accepts you for your faults. I’m his conduit. I only want to keep you focused. I only want your spiritual wellbeing. You are coming of an age, Sara, where we must talk about the next step on your path.”
He loved me.
He loved all of us.
He would lead me home…
I nodded mutely. God had taken my voice.
“You have embraced the divine word. You work hard to cleanse your soul, do you not?” Pastor was saying.
I nodded. It was the only reaction I could make. All the worry, all the doubt had slipped away to that dark, murky place that spread outward from my heart.
“And are you focused on The Awakening? Do you feel prepared?” Pastor asked.
The Awakening.
What was The Awakening? Did anyone really know? All I knew
was that it was the point when we reached absolute purity and were ready to be called home. God decided when we were ready. Pastor Carter as his earthly voice steered us forward. If we didn’t live a pure and clean life, erase the toxins and evil from our hearts, then we would be left behind. Our loved ones would ascend without us. That was my idea of hell. Being alone. Without anyone. Abandonment was my greatest fear.
But how did we ascend? What would exactly happen in this perfect, Godly moment? It was a total mystery.
“Your Awakening is coming soon, Sara,” he said and I felt dizzy.
“Soon?” I whispered, apprehension tinged with excitement I had been told to feel swept through me.
“Yes, my sweet, Sara. Very soon. We must ready your heart and soul so you will be taken.”
I could barely breathe. I didn’t know what to say. I felt paralyzed.
“What do I have to do?” I asked, voice high and thready.
Pastor Carter squeezed my hands. I felt steadied by his warmth. His solidity. His pale blue eyes were serious. “Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.”
I knew he was quoting scripture again. Though I didn’t quite understand what that particular passage had to do with me.
“I don’t braid my hair, Pastor. I don’t wear jewelry. I don’t consider myself vain,” I objected. Had I slipped up? Had my thoughts of wanting to look pretty somehow been written on my face?
Pastor pushed a piece of hair back from my face. “I know, Sara. You are very beautiful. More beautiful than any other woman. You have proven your holiness. Your godliness. Which is why I feel you are ready for the most important of sacraments. God has told me it’s time for your sacred marriage.”
My heart stopped.
It had to have.
I couldn’t have heard him correctly.
“My sacred marriage?” My voice sounded frail. It broke apart and crumbled away.
Pastor Carter opened the large Bible he kept with him. He skimmed the passages and began to read.
“And he made a husband and wife, yoked together as one flesh.” Pastor looked up at me. “Marriage is a model of God and the Trinity. It is the ultimate expression of faith and devotion.”
Yes, I understood this. But—
“Your Awakening is coming, Sara. I want you to be ready. It would break my heart for you to be left behind.” There it was again.
The threat.
The warning.
He put my hand to his chest. “It is my duty as your shepherd to herd you towards God. To ensure that your fate is as it should be. To become a holy wife to a holy husband.”
“I’m to be married?” I couldn’t be sure I spoke aloud. The words were wisps of nothingness. Without form.
Pastor chuckled. “I can see this is all too much for you right now. I want you to take my Bible and read the passages I’ve highlighted. Absorb it. Take it into your heart. Know that I only want what’s best for you. What’s right. I don’t want you left here in this hostile world without me. Without your mother. Without your family.” He handed me the holy book.
The very real fear lay like a stone in my stomach.
“I don’t want that either,” I said, trying not to weep.
“You are special, Sara. So special.” He put his hand on top of my head and I lowered it obediently.
My body shuddered and I felt the tears come unbidden. I couldn’t stop them.
“Heavenly Father, guide Sara on her path. Help her see the truth of your wisdom. Fill her with your light. The end is coming. Lead her home.”
The end is coming.
We all knew that.
The end was almost here.
My Awakening was soon.
I cried and cried. I didn’t know why I cried. Whether it was from joy or sadness.
Pastor Carter smiled.
He took me in his arms. Embracing me like the child I still was in so many ways. He stroked my back, praying. His words were everything I wanted to hear.
“Your duty is to our family, Sara. To God. Always remember that.”
He twisted me into a tiny ball of needy desperation.
“I will, Pastor. I do.”
“Follow my word and you will find eternal salvation.”
I spent the rest of the evening at home, skipping dinner. I spent the entire next day at home as well.
Pastor’s sessions were exhausting. I felt wrung out and depleted. The echoes of nausea panged in my stomach. I had thrown up in the bushes after leaving his house. As I always did. As though my body were expelling the sin. Once and for all.
Expelling him.
Pastor said I was healed.
I wanted to believe him.
But I was starting to feel that there was a deep rift inside of me that no amount of prayer could fix.
I felt like screaming until I couldn’t scream anymore.
He loved me.
He loved us all.
He would save us.
Joy was pain.
It had been so easy to justify his methods when it was all I had ever known. Now I was learning other things. Hearing other stories.
I was learning to think about a world beyond the gate.
Bastian was forcing me to believe in things that went against everything I was taught. In truth, he was forcing me to believe in myself.
It was tearing me apart.
Once I was inside the safe confines of my home’s four walls, I tried to read the passages that Pastor had asked me to look over.
Mostly the words blurred on the page. I read the sentences but had a hard time digesting their meaning.
They were about the sanctity of marriage. About why women should show obedience to their husbands. To their God.
Obey.
Submit.
Surrender.
Rules I had learned at a very young age. I had been following them most my life. Yet I balked. The idea of lying down and accepting marriage—a husband—felt wrong.
“Marriage should be honored by all and the marriage bed kept pure.” I was getting a headache.
We hadn’t spent much time on the idea of marriage within The Gathering. I couldn’t remember any marriage ceremonies ever taking place. There were couples who came to The Retreat already married. But we had always been encouraged to focus on our relationship with God instead of earthly unions.
Why was Pastor Carter bringing this up now?
I trusted him, didn’t I?
I had been raised to trust him.
His word was my law.
Shouldn’t I accept what he planned for me? I should believe that he knew best as the voice of God.
“Pastor Carter is an amazing man. He wants what’s best for all of us. He only wants to see that we are accepted by God. That we’re living our best lives.”
The irrational light in David’s eyes as he said these words plagued me.
There was something horrible coiling inside. Something slow and infectious that was systematically tainting everything.
I was being told to marry. To ready my soul for The Awakening. I would be ascending to the heavens. It’s all I ever wanted. What I had been preparing most of my life for.
Yet, it was almost too much to take in.
Marriage.
My Awakening.
I buried my face in my pillow and finally unleashed the scream that had been building and building inside me. Muffled it so no one could hear. No one but me.
A gaping hole opened up and swallowed me.
Eventually I closed the Bible and lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. A tiny spider spun a web way up in the rafters. I watched it toiling on and on. Creating something essential for its survival.
It had no idea whether the web would last a day. A week. It simply needed it. So, it made the best web it could. Because it was
born to make it.
Pastor Carter said we are all born to follow God’s path.
That it was our means of survival.
Did my survival really mean forcing me to marry someone I didn’t love? Did my feelings even matter in the grand scheme of things?
That thought alone had me teetering dangerously on the edge of depression.
A place I had been before.
So long ago…
“Sara, you in here?” Anne opened the door quietly. When she saw me lying on the bed she clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “You should come get something to eat.” I wasn’t hungry even though my stomach was empty after almost twenty-four hours without food. It was already evening. I had completely lost track of time.
I barely acknowledged my friend’s presence. I needed to find that place where I was content with my fate. If Pastor thought I needed to marry for my soul’s betterment, I had to dig deep inside and live comfortably with it.
I could only pray.
I could only give myself over to the truth as Pastor saw it.
I felt fuzzy and full.
I waited for the surety of God’s love to fill me.
I couldn’t leave room for doubt.
I wouldn’t be left behind.
I felt my bed sink with Anne’s weight. She took the Bible, still open beside me, and put it on the bedside table. My head pounded painfully and I wasn’t sure I was capable of conversation.
“You’ve been in here for almost a whole day. You need to eat something. Fasting only hurts you. God wants you whole.” Fasting wasn’t unusual for The Gathering. It surprised me that she spoke against something accepted by everyone else.
I wondered if just once, she would question why I had remained indoors. She seemed as agitated as I felt. I wanted to tell her what Pastor Carter said.
What he did…
I needed her to question it as much as I did.
I tried to find the words.
They never came.
“I’m fine,” was all I could say. It was a lie.
I was doing that a lot lately.
Withholding the truth.
Dishonesty was a slippery slope.
“The group sing is tonight. After dinner,” Anne reminded me.
Ashes of the Sun (The Gathering of the Sun part 1) Page 19
