Forgotten (Book 3--Forsaken Series)

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Forgotten (Book 3--Forsaken Series) Page 5

by Vanessa Miller


  “Benson was not married when I met him. The two of you had been divorced for four years, and you weren’t in his life at all. As far as I knew, you were dating another man as well.”

  “You mind your own business.” Diane snapped and hung up the phone. Diane was fuming with righteous indignation. She swung around looking for something to throw against the wall and that’s when she saw Brian leaning against the wall. “Hey baby, I didn’t know that you were home. How long have you been here?” She walked over to him and placed a kiss on his lips. Brian Johnson had broken things off with her when he discovered that JT had fathered Lily and not him. But he’d come crawling back last year, and Diane had been thrilled to have him in her life again. But the thrill was wearing off, because Brian couldn’t keep a job even if it was glued to him.

  “Long enough to know that you’re still chasing after Benson,” Brian responded.

  Diane glanced at the phone that was in her hand; she put it down on the coffee table. “I called my daughter to see how she was doing. Is that such a crime?”

  Brian pushed away from the wall. “I told you that I wasn’t going to be played for a fool this time, didn’t I?”

  Standing her ground, Diane protested, “When have I ever played you for a fool? It’s more like you’re playing me for a fool. You can’t even keep a job and I’m behind on my child support because you haven’t been able to help me with that in months.”

  “Oh you’ve played me for a fool plenty of times, Diane, but I’m sick of it. You can call Benson all night long if you want, because I’m packing my bags and getting out of your life… this time for good.”

  She laughed at him. “You’re not going anywhere. When are you going to realize that you belong with me, Brian? I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

  He turned on her, a vicious scowl on his face. “If we belong together, then why are you still trying to get Benson not to marry that woman? You’re trying to go back home to him and leave me out in the cold again.”

  She was sick of Brian and his inability to understand the way the world works. “Oh why don’t you stop whining and face reality.”

  “And just what is our reality, Diane?”

  “You’re a boy and I need a man,” she said simply, “You’re all right to fool around with, but I need someone who can pay some bills around here. So I guess you’re right, Brian, you do need to get your stuff and go.”

  Before Diane could even think about moving out of Brian’s reach, he was on her, knocking her down to the ground and pounding her with his fist. “I hate you! I hate you!” he yelled as he kept right on hitting her.

  Seven

  The sky was clear and the sun was beaming down on the church as Margie helped with the final touches of the Given/Benson wedding. Besides the fact that part of Margie’s duties included providing services for weddings that were performed at Overcomers, Margie was delighted to help this particular couple because she knew how much Deacon Joe Benson had suffered at the hand of his ex-wife. Margie smiled as she thought about God’s quirky sense of humor. Only God could have put a woman with the name Joy Given in the life of Deacon Benson, a man who’d had all the joy stolen from him time and time again by a thankless wife.

  “Okay girls, is that everything you need?” Margie asked cheerfully, as she handed the wedding programs to the hostesses.

  “That’s it. I think we’re ready. All we need now is for the bride and groom to say ‘I do’,” one of the hostess said.

  “And since Joy is forty-two and this is her first marriage, I don’t think there is anything that could stop her from saying those words today. I’m just so happy for her,” the other hostess said, beaming with excitement.

  “It just goes to show what can happen if you wait on the Lord,” Margie said. “Deacon Benson is a good man, and if anyone deserves him, I would say Joy Given surely does.”

  With that, the three women walked out of Margie’s office. She locked her office door and then headed into the sanctuary to take her seat. In recent years, Margie had begun avoiding weddings. Although they were beautiful, the happy occasion always seemed to remind her of what she didn’t have.

  She had prayed about her lonely heart; she confessed the truth to God… that she wanted a husband. The rest was up to Him. With that prayer, she had also decided to no longer avoid weddings. Her new job afforded her the opportunity to make good on that decision. So, Margie just wanted to sit back and listen to the music and watch the bridesmaids and the beautiful bride walk down the aisle.

  As the music began and the first bridesmaid began walking down the aisle, a woman in shades caught Margie’s attention. It was odd to see anyone wearing shades at a wedding because shades tended to dim a bit of the view, and no one wanted their view dim while watching the beauty of two love birds becoming one. The woman turned her head towards the entrance to the sanctuary as the next bridesmaid walked down the aisle, and that’s when Margie could see clearly that the woman in the shades was Diane. “What is she trying to pull?” Margie mumbled to herself.

  After witnessing her friend bring a gun to church, shoot a prominent pastor to death and then turn the gun on herself, Margie was always leery of people doing strange things inside of the house of God. As the third bridesmaid began her strut down the aisle, Margie eased out of her seat and walked four pews up. As she slid by to sit next to Diane, she said, ‘Excuse me’ three or four times as she came close to stepping on feet and blocking the view of the bridesmaids.

  “What are you doing here?” Margie whispered to Diane when she was finally seated next to her.

  Diane slowly faced Margie and then turned back to watch the women walk down the aisle without responding to her.

  “This is not a game, please don’t do anything crazy,” Margie said as she frantically looked around for any sign that Diane was carrying a weapon. Her purse was on the floor, Margie grabbed it.

  “Give that back. What are you doing?”

  “I’m checking to see if you have any weapons.”

  “Aw girl, I’m not getting ready to shoot nobody,” Diane said as she snatched her purse and opened it wide so that Margie could peak in.

  Satisfied, Margie leaned back in her seat. “Then why are you here?”

  “That’s for me to know, Ms. Margie Milner.” Diane snapped her purse closed and put it back under her seat. “Don’t think that I have forgotten that you are working for the enemy.”

  “Diane, please don’t cause any trouble. This is Benson’s new start. Can’t you just let him have it?” Margie asked with a look of compassion in her eyes. She could understand Diane’s need to be there. She was losing someone she once loved… the finality of Benson’s marriage had to hurt. “Think about your kids.”

  With venom, Diane whispered, “I am thinking about my kids—all of them, and about everybody who took what belonged to me. Somebody has to pay for that, don’t you think?”

  The ‘here comes the bride’ music began and Joy appeared at the entrance. Everyone but Diane stood. Joy looked beautiful and at peace as she strolled down the aisle headed toward her knight in shining armor. Margie looked to the front of the church and glimpsed the tears in Benson’s eyes as he watched Joy come to him. Margie wondered how Diane could be so bitter about her ex-husband finding someone to bring him such happiness. Couldn’t she see the joy etched across the man’s face? But then Margie remembered that Diane still hadn’t taken her shades off. She probably kept them on so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge how happy her ex was. “This is a happy occasion, Diane. Don’t do anything crazy.”

  Diane ignored Margie. She kept looking toward the front of the sanctuary at Benson. Her mouth tightened in anger as Joy and Joe began holding hands. As the music faded, Diane stood and took her glasses off, revealing two black eyes and a bruised cheek. “Stop, stop! I can’t let this wedding continue a moment longer.” Diane stepped out into the aisle and began walking down the aisle as if she were the bride. “Look what Benson did to my face,�
�� she declared before the entire church.

  Margie got nervous when she saw Diane headed for Joy and Joe and she flashed back to the day she allowed Linda to walk down to the front of the church and shoot Bishop Lewis in the head. She didn’t think Diane had a gun, but something bad was about to happen, and Margie wasn’t about to let this go down on her watch without a fight. She jumped out of her seat, screaming as if a murder was taking place. Margie dived on top of Diane and kept screaming until someone lifted her off of Diane and took her into the prayer room. By that time, Margie was hyperventilating. The fear of not knowing what Diane would do once she reached the front of the church had chilled Margie to the bone.

  “Is she all right? What’s wrong with her?”

  Margie knew the voice she was hearing was Pastor Lamont. She even knew that at that moment she was wondering why he wasn’t still at the front of the church with the bride and groom, but she couldn’t find her voice, so she neither answered him nor did she ask her own questions.

  “I don’t know, pastor. We can’t calm her down,” one of the hostesses said.

  Margie felt as if her heart was about to jump out of her chest. She couldn’t stop the heavy breathing and she couldn’t respond to the people standing around her.

  Lamont dropped down on his knees in front of her. He put her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes as he gently said, “Margie, listen to me. I need you to slow your breathing down. Just take a slow, deep breath like this.” Lamont slowly inhaled and then exhaled so that she could see what he was asking her to do.

  Miraculously, Margie was able to inhale and then slowly exhale.

  “That’s right, now do it again,” Lamont said while still holding her face in his hands.

  Margie complied and before long she was not only taking slow deep breaths, but she was able to focus on the people in the room and speak again. “I-I’m sorry, I must have spazzed out or something.”

  “Why’d you jump on Diane and start screaming like that?” one of the women in the room asked.

  “I was afraid that she was going to do something to Deacon Benson and Joy,” Margie answered truthfully.

  “What else could she do?” another hostess asked. “She had already told the entire church that Benson was a woman beater before you leaped on her.”

  How could Margie explain to everyone her fears, when she had trouble even thinking about the murder/suicide that she’d witnessed in a place that was supposed to bring people comfort and peace… a sanctuary just like the one she had just been in. Lord help me to get over my fears. I do believe that you are able to protect me and others that enter the house of God, she silently prayed before addressing the group that stood around her. “It was silly. I should have known that Diane just wanted to cause trouble and not physically harm anyone.”

  “Well she caused enough of that,” Lamont said as he let his hands drop from Margie’s face.

  Margie instantly felt the absence of his hands and his presence as he stood up and moved away from her. Trying to keep him there with her she asked, “What else did Diane do?”

  “She called the police on Benson and tried to get him arrested, but he had proof that he hadn’t gone anywhere near Diane last night. Their daughter also told the police about how Diane was trying to get Benson on the phone last night, but she never even told him that Diane called.”

  “Did Benson get arrested on his wedding day?” Margie asked incredulously.

  “No, they arrested Diane,” Beverly, the head hostess said with a giggle. “Apparently, you shouldn’t call the police when there are warrants out for your arrest.”

  “What?” Margie put her hand over her mouth in utter shock. When she recovered, she said, “I missed a lot. I can’t believe I lost it like that. Did Benson and Joy get married?”

  “Not yet,” Lamont said as he headed for the door. “We’ve already sent all of the guests to the banquet hall for the reception, but Benson and Joy are in my office waiting for me, so we can make everything official. I just needed to check on you first.”

  “Check on me?” Margie began shooing him away. “After what they had to endure today, don’t make them wait another minute.”

  “You’re kind of bossy, aren’t you?” Lamont asked as he leaned against the door jam, grinning at her.

  “Whatever you say, Pastor Lamont, just go do your job and get those two married.”

  “All right, all right.” As he walked out of the room and headed towards his office, he could be heard laughing.

  That night when Margie got home, she turned on her computer and wrote in her blog:

  Some days I feel as if I’m standing still and making very little progress. Today I had a panic attack at church, because I feared that someone was about to do harm to another person during a wedding. I overreacted and made myself look like a fool.

  Many of you may remember my post concerning the shooting I witnessed at a church I used to attend. Well, it appears that I am still traumatized by that incident and need a bit of prayer from my blog partners. So if any of y’all know how to get a prayer through to heaven, can you please ask the Lord to remove the entire nightmare that I witnessed out of my mind?

  ***

  The next morning, Margie checked her email before getting ready for church and was stunned to see that she’d received about two dozen email responses to her blog. The first one she opened smacked her in the face with: I was traumatized at the church I used to attend also. My husband started spending a lot of time at church working with our choir director on some solos that he felt the Lord had called him to sing. The next thing I knew, the choir director was pregnant and he was asking me for a divorce. That’s why I don’t attend church anymore… you just can’t trust anyone claiming to be a Christian. No, no, no, Margie wanted to scream. She wanted to tell this woman that she couldn’t judge the entire church by the actions of one really wrong individual, because many Christians lived right and wouldn’t dream of stealing another woman’s husband, so she did exactly that, by responding to her email with the good news that God still lives and He is just waiting for her to come back to Him.

  Margie then opened other emails and discovered that so many saints had experienced church hurt that traumatized them. Even if it had been something as small having words with another saint or having a few dollars stolen out of a purse… the people had been traumatized by these events because they never expected to have to deal with such things in the house of God.

  After reading several of these emails, Margie closed her eyes and prayed, “Lord please help your children move past the hurt so they can still see Your glory.” As she finished praying, Margie found herself giggling at the fact that she had just asked for prayer for people about some church hurt issues, and now she was praying for other people with similar issues. Margie was often in awe of God and His ability to take her out of the messy situations she’d gotten herself into and still find a use for her in the kingdom.

  The next email Margie opened brought tears to her eyes. The woman told a story of great heartbreak. The woman had carried on an affair with a married preacher for years. She’d flaunted their affair in front of the man’s wife and basically dared her to do anything about it. The preacher’s wife committed suicide. The preacher she had been carrying on with for years married someone else after his wife died and the woman who emailed her had since been housebound. Eating her way to five hundred pounds and refusing to come out of the house.

  Most people wouldn’t have sympathy for this woman. They’d say that she brought all of her misery on herself. But Margie recognized the woman’s pain and had compassion for her. She wrote back and said, “Do you know that God still loves you?”

  The woman responded with, “I don’t feel loved. I feel guilty… like I caused the death of someone who didn’t deserve to die. She was a really nice first lady, too. Before I started sleeping with her husband, she used to do all sorts of things for me and my family.”

  Margie sent another email
, simply repeating, “Do you know that God still loves you?”

  The woman came back with a question. “Margie, do you really believe that God could love a person like me?”

  “He loved King David, didn’t He? And David had a man who was loyal to him killed just so he could take the man’s wife. So, if God could love him, what makes you any different?”

  The woman didn’t readily respond. Margie began praying that God would reveal to her His simple truth: That we are saved by grace, not by works. So, even though she committed a grievous sin, she could still be restored back to God. The choice was hers.

  A few more minutes of prayer and then Margie received another message from the woman that said, “I guess I’m not much different than King David. Thank you for taking the time to write your blog for us wounded Christians.”

  Smiling, Margie typed, “You’re welcome, but do yourself a favor and go find a church home. The only way out of the trauma is to stand up to it.”

  “Okay, Margie, I’ll do that.”

  “You won’t regret it,” Margie said and then signed off.

  Eight

  It was only Tuesday morning, and the week had already turned bad for Lamont. Not only was he still dealing with the fallout from the Given/Benson wedding, but on the same day that he presided over the DeVon Wilson funeral, he’d received word that another saint had been rushed to the hospital complaining of stomach pains. That morning, as he was driving to the hospital to check on Susan Tilman, Margie called his cell to inform him that Susan had passed away.

  Lamont didn’t understand what was going on. He and every other preacher he knew ministered about the protection of God, and how if the saints pay their tithes, then God would rebuke the devourer from their life… meaning the saints had the ability to live in health and wealth as long as they followed the principles of God. But the saints were dropping like flies on a hot summer day.

 

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