“Please give me a call if you have any questions or want to talk. Once you come to a decision, we can announce the good news to the church.” Paul was nodding his head. Before she knew it, Sarah was nodding, too.
Selfish Ambition and Fear of Man stayed with Sarah. The others left with Pastor Paul firmly in their destructive grip. They were so comfortable with him; they regarded him as their permanent residency.
Sarah walked him to the porch and watched as he drove away. She expected to feel better, but her muscles were tense again.
“Paul,” said Saldu, looking stoic yet disappointed, “never measure others’ worth or value by whether they agree with your opinion. What an arrogant standard. Let Sarah do what she wants with the land. It’s hers. You just used every manipulative technique against her, including mentioning her dead husband. You never met him, yet suddenly you’re invested in what he would think? You’re a hypocrite. She’s a valuable, living, breathing, blood-bought Christian standing right in front of you. All you can see is what you can get from her. Everything else is lost on you. You don’t love people; you use people. If you don’t cry out for help from the Lord to change that pattern, you’ll never accomplish what the Lord has planned for your life, and it will bring you immeasurable pain.”
“Paul, you’ve almost got her where you want her,” whispered one of the clawed, leather-winged demons. “She teared up when you mentioned her husband. Did you see her nodding at the end? That Bible verse was a great touch. She’s home looking at the Scripture now. I think you’ve got her.”
“Pray about this land debate,” said Saldu. “You could speak up for Sarah and give her the support she needs. You could be a spiritual buffer between her and the town’s anger. Stand up and do what’s right! Lead your church in the truth. What is politically correct is never heavenly correct. Remember, the Lord humbled Himself to live in a human body, die on the cross, and suffer for sins, none of which were His. In order to fulfill His plan for your life, you must lead the same humble, obedient lifestyle.”
“Keep your eye on the prize, Paul,” said Selfish Ambition. “Don’t give up your goal. Think how many people will flock to your church if you solve this jail dilemma. You’d probably need to build right away. Don’t let up; success is right around the corner.”
Paul smiled.
CHAPTER 15
“Fear is an invitation to courage.”
Bill Treasurer1
“Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.”
Malachy McCourt2
In a few minutes Sarah was reading the book of Esther out loud. Joel and Malta enjoyed watching the demons cringe and retch. “God’s Word is alive and active,” whispered Malta. “The Word is a sword. It’s powerful for warfare against the enemy.”
“For if you remain completely silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish. Yet who knows whether you have come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” read Sarah.
“All Christians have at least one ‘such a time as this’ in their lives. Sometimes several,” said Malta. “This is your time Sarah. It’s your time right now.”
A few days ago Sarah was convinced the jail was God’s will. Now Paul and his demonically fueled logic had confused her, plus Fear of Man had her afraid of the consequences if she sold the ground to BCCF. Things seemed so clear a few days ago. Now Sarah was confused and distraught, almost to the point of being physically ill.
“The towns’ people will never forgive you if you sell the ground,” whispered the scorched voice of Selfish Ambition.
“You need to think about your future and your comfort these last years of your pathetic life,” said Fear of Man. “You need to make some friends, and selling to the jail isn’t the way to do it.”
Some of the towns’ people might even get violent. They feel really strongly about this jail,” whispered Intimidation. “You are here all by yourself at night.”
“You’re not by yourself Sarah,” said Joel. “The same Holy Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead lives inside you.3 You are never alone. Don’t give in to these spirits. The more you believe them, the more power they have over you.”
“Right now you have more faith in your inability than in God’s ability. Fear is really just faith in the devil. The demons only have power when you give them your worship.”
I need clarity. I think I’ll prayer walk. I just need to do it. Jesus, help me; I can’t stay in this house forever. Before Malta even unsheathed his double-edged sword, the spirit of Agoraphobia was gone.
Sarah grabbed her denim jacket and pulled on her floppy garden hat. Maybe this will conceal my identity and my black eye. It seemed like a long time since she’d been out of the house even though it was just a few days. The leaves were mostly gone; the trees looked skeleton-like as they swayed in the breeze. There were many houses that had bales of hay, pumpkins, Jack O’ Lanterns, or Indian corn out as decorations.
Sarah rounded the corner praying and thought how good it felt to be prayer walking again. When she turned onto the second block, she saw that the real-estate sign had been removed from the yard of the small Victorian house. A car was in the driveway, and there was a huge pile of empty boxes at the curb. “Let’s stay a little longer here, Sarah,” whispered Malta.
Lord help this person or family to get settled in quickly. Let them make friends and feel like they “fit.” If they don’t know You, bring them quickly to salvation. I pray Your favor and blessings on them.
Inside the house Barbara was still unpacking. She’d been at it all day. She had on her old blue sweat suit and had her salt and pepper colored hair pulled back. “You may as well get these out of the way,” suggested her guardian angel, Gadiel. She grabbed the stack of empty boxes accumulating by the door and stepped out on the porch. Startled by seeing Sarah standing in front of her house, she jumped. I‘m a sweaty mess. I can’t be meeting people, making first impressions looking like this. She fought her first impulse, which was to drop the boxes and dart back inside.
Sarah was also startled by Barbara’s sudden appearance. She ducked her head to hide her face and shuffled down the sidewalk. When Sarah was 20 feet away, Barbara worked up the courage to yell, “Wait, Sarah.” Sarah hesitated, afraid she’d get an earful from a disgruntled citizen opposing her views. Slowly, tentatively, she walked back.
“You are Sarah, aren’t you?”
“Yes, how do you know me?” she asked, still staring down to conceal her black eye.
“I was at the meeting the other night.”
Sarah recoiled, as if preparing for a verbal kick to the gut.
“I’m new in town. My name’s Barbara. I just wanted to meet you and say that what you did was very brave. We all need to do what God tells us, even if it goes against the flow. Do you understand?”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. The words were like a cool breeze blowing over her tattered soul. In her neediness, she blurted out, “Can I talk to you?”
Barbara was embarrassed by how she looked and the state of her house, but she felt this was a divine appointment. “Sure, if you can stomach the mess.”
I’d go to the city’s trash dump to have someone to talk to who understands, thought Sarah. “I don’t mind at all,” she said looking up for the first time.
“Oh my gosh! Did someone beat you up?”
“No. Just a car wreck. I hit my head. It looks worse than it is.”
After clearing boxes off the couch and apologizing for not having anything to offer Sarah to drink, Barbara sat down.
“I was at the back of the meeting hall when you came in. What you did was very brave, very godly. You didn’t back down; you didn’t let your fear of what people thought stop you. I was going to come after you, um, but I was embarrassed. I’m new in town and didn’t want to make enemies right off the bat. I’m really sorry.”
“I understand,” said Sarah, and she really
did. “I’m the town’s outcast. I got nine letters in the mail today, and I haven’t had the nerve to even open them.”
At Barbara’s encouragement, Sarah shared about what had happened since her salvation.
“You’ve been through so much—both good and bad. It’s exciting what the Lord is doing in your life. Some people are saved all their lives and don’t seem to have that much supernatural activity going on.”
“What do you mean?” asked Sarah.
“It seems like most Christians just go through the motions. Their lives aren’t very different from their unsaved neighbors; they rarely pray for people, read their Bible, or take time to hear God’s voice in any significant ways.”
Until now, Sarah assumed that the Lord spoke to everyone like He did with her. “But doesn’t He speak to them during their morning sessions with Him?”
“That’s the problem; most Christians don’t spend enough time with Him to learn to recognize His voice. Hearing from Him isn’t a priority. But I believe the Lord has something special for you. I think He’s going to do a lot with you before He takes you home. You’re in the middle of one of those, ‘for such a time as this’ seasons.”
“You have no idea what you just said.” Sarah laughed for the first time in almost a week.
Sarah learned that Barbara had just retired from a secretarial position in a large city where she’d spent most of her life. She’d kept working at a job she had grown to dislike by promising herself that if she stayed on until retirement she’d treat herself by moving to a small town. She’d always liked Bradbury. A friend of hers from high school had lived there once. When her Realtor told her about this house, she came that day and made an offer. She went back home and gave the landlord her 30 days’ notice.
After another hour, the conversation came to an end. “Thanks so much for listening to me tonight. You have no idea how good it feels to have a trusted confidant.”
“Well, it was a God thing that I came on the porch when I did. Do you want me to drive you home? It’s late.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine walking. I just live one block over.”
Sarah praised God all the way home, accompanied by Joel and Malta. Then she held tightly to the porch rail and slowly ascended the stairs. The big picture window behind the porch swing was shattered. The porch was covered with shards of glass. “Oh, Jesus, what does this mean?” she asked out loud.
She turned on the living room light and saw the brick. It had hit the coffee table, leaving a large gash and then bounced onto the floor. The couch and floor were also covered with glass. She felt the tears welling up again. She sat down in the floral chair opposite the couch and cried. Joel was at her front and Malta at her back, their ethereal wings encircled her, keeping away the spirits that wanted to buffet her.
After a while Malta began, “The enemy would like to see you paralyzed with fear again. He’d like nothing more than to bring your work for the Lord to a halt. But you need to know God’s protecting you; don’t ever doubt that. He loves you, and He has a plan for you to complete. Now here’s the challenge. He wants you to pray for the person who did this.”
Sarah recoiled at the thought.
Joel added, “I know it’s hard; it can only be done with the Lord’s help. Call out to Him for grace to bless your enemies.”
I can’t forgive them; look what they did to my home. They don’t deserve to be forgiven. Two evil spirits were drawn to Sarah’s unforgiveness, like flies to blood.
“That’s right sister, preach it,” shouted Bitterness and his gnarled cronies. “They don’t deserve your forgiveness, just your revenge.”
“Remember, forgiveness is God’s provision for people who do wrong. People who haven’t offended you don’t need your forgiveness. Forgiveness is only for those who offend or hurt you,” said Malta.
Sarah looked again at the brick and the gash on her coffee table and her anger was rekindled.
“Look at every trying circumstance that the Lord allows in your life as His way of purifying your spirit and attitude,” said Joel. “You can remain bitter and head down Satan’s path, or you can forgive and become more like Jesus.”
Sarah sat for a while thinking, while a battle raged for control between her spirit and soul.
“Think of it like this, Sarah,” said Malta. “Bitterness is like a snakebite. The snake that bit you, when it hurled that rock through your window, has already slithered away. But until you forgive, the poison is still circulating through your veins. It’s only damaging you; your hatred has no effect on the snake.”
“Whoever did this was scum,” shouted Unforgiveness. “They deserve to go to jail, and that’s all they deserve. Why would you even consider forgiving them?”
Malta continued, “Remember Jesus’ parable about the king who forgives his servant 10,000 talents?”4
“Which is 20 billion dollars in today’s money,” said Joel with a grin. “That’s billion with a “b.”
“Then that servant went out and found someone who owed him a mere 100 denarii.” Malta paused and looked toward Joel.
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
“His master had forgiven him an unpayable debt, but he choked his debtor and had him thrown into prison. When the king heard it, he was furious. ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. Should you not also have had compassion on your fellow servant, just as I had pity on you?’ Then he handed him to the torturers. Jesus said that we will not receive forgiveness from God unless we forgive others. No matter how badly you are treated, it is miniscule compared to what Jesus suffered to forgive your sins.”
She still felt mad, and she still felt violated, but she realized the truth when she heard it. Lord, she began slowly and through somewhat gritted teeth, You know who is responsible for this. I might never find out. I guess it’s not important that I do. Will You help me not to hate and help me not to fear? I guess anyone who would throw a rock through an old lady’s window is a pretty sad case. I pray that they would come to know You in a personal way and that You would change their hearts. Amen.
With each word, the circle that Bitterness, Unforgiveness, Selfish Ambition, Agoraphobia, and Fear were flying around her grew wider. As little bits of glory fell from Heaven, the spirits became more frantic until they were jostling and scratching each other in the corner of the ceiling, trying to avoid the heavenly fragrance that invaded the room.
Sarah felt a little better after the prayer. She even had more energy. She picked up her dustpan and broom and slowly swept up the glass. After going over the couch with the attachments on her vacuum, she found a large piece of cardboard and with a black marker she wrote, “Jesus loves you.” This was more than the demons could take; they cursed and fled to the kitchen. Sarah taped the cardboard over the window. Then she took the brick and set it on top of the television. Every time I see it, I’ll remember to pray for whoever did this.
“Nooooo,” came the voices shrieking in unison from the kitchen, “You must take revenge.”
Rummaging through the closet she found a large crocheted doily. It was one she had made while sitting by George toward the end of his illness. She gently unfolded it and placed it over the dent on the coffee table. She placed the cranberry scented candle on it. “There. That’s not so bad,” she said, admiring her ingenuity. Then she went to bed. Joel and Malta stood beside her. “It’s been a hard, hard week for Sarah,” said Joel.
“Yes, just the kind of week the Father uses to build character into His children.”
“And Sarah’s learning fast.”
CHAPTER 16
“Affliction is the wholesome soil of virtue, where patience, honor, sweet humility, and calm fortitude, take root and strongly flourish.”
David Mallet1
“You can be pitiful or powerful, but you can’t be both.”
Joyce Meyer2
After her prayer time, Sarah crawled out of bed in the morning. The arthritis medicine certainly wasn’t helping
much, if at all, and she’d increased to 15 milligrams immediately after her doctor’s appointment. As she shuffled to the bathroom, she made a mental note to call Dr. Newbury and make a follow-up visit.
“Look at your clothes basket,” whispered Lying.
It was overflowing with dirty clothes. I haven’t done laundry for ten days. I’d better divide this into two loads.
“Think how much time it will save if you just do it in one load,” said Lying. “Only up and down the stairs twice instead of four times. You can do it all.” She headed to the kitchen carrying the basket. She opened the basement door to go down the stairs, but paused.
“Be careful, Sarah,” said Joel. “You need both hands on the rail.” She’d never thought about going up and down the stairs with the basket before, but today there was an uneasy feeling. She looked at the steps for a long time then put the basket on the floor and pushed it with her foot. Halfway it over-turned, spilling dirty clothes at the foot of the stairs. She grasped the rail as she cautiously made her way down each step, assisted by Joel and Malta.
She checked the washing instructions on a new, brightly colored blouse she had just purchased. The first tag said “Made in India.”
“Watch this,” said Joel. “Here’s a great prayer opportunity.” Malta nodded. “Sarah, the woman who sewed this blouse lives in Bangalore. A mission organization taught her and many other women marketable skills so they can support their children. Many of the husbands are alcoholics and unfortunately their paychecks are rarely spent on food. This sewing group of 30 women is now able to provide for their children while they are being taught the Gospel. Whenever you wear this blouse, remember to pray that these ladies would prosper spiritually and financially.”
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