She didn’t ask the question, but she knew the answer. They wouldn’t want her to go back home by herself, and they wouldn’t want her to drive.
She took the medicine Jan had brought her and with much embarrassment and excruciating pain, used the bedpan. When Jan left, Sarah started thinking. Suddenly, having Parkinson’s and having to use a walker to get around didn’t seem so bad compared to the situation she was in now. Waves of discouragement rolled over her as she listened to the spirit of Deception: “You were so ungrateful when you should have been grateful for what you still had left. You were just too stupid to see it then.”
“Your life is wasted,” lied Depression. “You can’t do anything for anyone now. Everyone has to do for you. You’ll never go back to the jail to minister. You can bet God is really mad at you.” Sarah began to fixate on God being mad at her. This was an open door for the spirit of Guilt, who readily joined Deception at his gruesome game. “You’re such a failure! Your ministry and your prayer walking have come to an end. You just ruined the plans that God had for the rest of your life because of your stupidity.”
“Sarah,” whispered Joel, “God is not mad at you for your failures, accidents, and weakness. Your sin sometimes surprises you, but it never surprises God. Before He even saved you He knew every sin you’d commit your whole life, and He called you as His daughter anyway.”
“No one is a failure by God’s standard until they give up and just quit trying. No pun intended, Sarah, but Proverbs says that ‘the righteous falls seven times and rises again.’2 You can fall, get up, and try again and fall, get up, and try again. As long as you keep getting up after each fall, God never classifies you as a failure. You’re not a failure. God always looks at your heart and your intentions.”
“God can still use your life even though it looks bleak to you,” said Joel. “Romans 8 says He can turn anything for good.3 He is the all-powerful God of the universe; He still wants to use you. Trust Him.”
“You have the ability to make bad situations worse by the way you react. The opposite is also true.”
The life in Joel and Malta’s words imparted hope and faith during one of the most trying times in her life. By an act of her will, Sarah began to sing out loud, “You’re all I want. You’re all I’ve ever needed. You’re all I want. Help me know You are near.”4 There was no one in the bed next to hers, but she wouldn’t have cared anyway. Joel looked at Malta, who was grinning from ear to ear. He nodded. Joel pulled his sword and split the evil spirits between their yellow eyes. When they vanished, Sarah felt a freedom she hadn’t felt for quite awhile.
She was still in significant pain from the surgery, but she called Barbara and asked her to pick up her Bible, devotional book, and other reading material. She also asked her to call Herald to fix her back door. It could have been worse, she thought. I could have not only blown myself up, but also taken some of the neighbors with me. Clarence Harvey would have been only too happy to tell of my stupidity and death in large headlines on the front page of the Gazette. She shook her head and said sheepishly, Thank God for the lesser of the two evils. Even though I’m really in a bind, I’m grateful to be alive.
CHAPTER 30
“Do not be afraid to allow the Holy Spirit to reveal any unforgiveness or bitterness. The longer you hide it, the stronger it will become and the harder your heart will grow. Stay tenderhearted.”
John Bevere1
Paul hadn’t slept well last night. The spirits were influencing his dreams again. He’d tossed and turned so much that Kathy pleaded with him to move to the couch. At 3:50 he finally trudged out of the bedroom. On the way down the hall, he passed the steps to Jordan’s room. Saldu was pointing up. Paul took the suggestion. Jordan’s door was ajar and his nightlight spilled out into the hall. Paul entered and stood over his crib. He was lying on his back, clutching his favorite blankie in one arm. Winnie the Pooh was sitting by his side like some incompetent night watchman, and it made Paul chuckle.
Hael watched as Paul brushed Jordan’s fine, brown hair to the side of his head and pulled his T-shirt down over his belly button. Jordan was so precious to him. Soberly, Paul made a sincere commitment to spend more time with the family.
Every so often, Jordan made little sucking motions with his lips. Paul was so filled with emotion for the little guy he wanted to scoop him in his arms right there, but he knew it would be selfish on his part. Besides, Kathy had an ironclad rule—never wake a sleeping child!
Paul stayed by Jordan’s crib admiring his son. His thoughts drifted. He wondered if his dad had ever stood over his crib admiring and appreciating him. Unlikely, he thought. He couldn’t picture his dad being sentimental over much; it wasn’t a side of his dad that he ever saw.
He was probably sentimental for his drinking buddies. I can imagine them crying in their beer together. He must have used it all up before he came home, that’s for sure. Whenever he came home drunk, all he did was spew contempt.
Contempt, that was what Paul felt toward his dad now. When he was younger, it was fear; when he became an adolescent, it was hatred. Paul’s feelings had mellowed to contempt through the years because his dad was gone and unable to continue sinning against him.
Saldu had been standing by Hael watching Paul’s tender side expressing itself toward his son. They were enjoying the intimate scene; Hael pulled his flute and played a lullaby. When Paul’s thoughts switched to his childhood wounds, their ministry did, too.
Paul couldn’t remember a time in his life when his dad wasn’t a drunk. But Saldu and Hael knew it didn’t happen until Paul was three and a half, when the family business started to falter. Paul’s dad, Wilson, had taken over the family clothing store from his father, who constantly pressured Wilson to perform. Wilson had wanted desperately to be a mechanic. When he was just 16, he saved the money he earned from working in the family store and bought a 1936 two-door Ford coup that wouldn’t run. He overhauled the engine, replaced some parts, and proudly drove that car for the next six years. He loved the hands-on aspect; he loved puttering, getting greasy, and figuring things out by trial and error.
When he was a senior in high school, he broached the subject that he might not want to follow his dad in the family business. His dad pitched such a fit that he never brought it up again. He always resented the clothing store. When a new shopping center was built on the town’s outskirts, most of the downtown customers were pulled away, and Wilson watched the numbers steadily deteriorate. He hated the fact that he was going to be the one to kill the family business. It would become his legacy. Emotional pain always seeks pleasure, or what it perceives as pleasure. That’s when he started going from the business to the bar and then home.
Before that, Wilson had been a caring, involved father. He did indeed stand over Paul’s crib admiring his son. It was Wilson who coaxed Paul to take his first steps and Wilson who insisted on having a family portrait taken every year, at least for the first three years.
Saldu placed his hand over Paul’s heart. He could feel the anointing surging through his hand into Paul’s spirit. He spoke softly, “Receive this, Paul, really receive it: It wasn’t you your father was mad at; it was himself, and it was his own father. Unfortunately, it just spilled out on everyone else who was around. Once the spirit of Addiction trapped your dad with alcohol, it was a downhill ride, an open invitation for Anger and Rage and other bad spirits to join in. Your father was ensnared by evil, and it spilled onto everyone he was around, but mostly his family. As a child you were a helpless victim with no protection. But you didn’t deserve that. You deserved better. You were a beautiful, wonderful, worthy child created in God’s image to run and play and laugh and be loved. Father cried many tears. Every night you cried yourself to sleep, He cried, too. It was not His plan for your father to become a drunk.” A murky haze of deception started to lift.
Saldu pulled his flaming sword. “Receive the Love of the Father for you. Feel His unconditional love. He chose you before the foundation
of the world, and His thoughts toward you are more than the sand on the sea-shore.2 Even in your sin and brokenness, you are a source of joy to Him, just like Jordan, in his immaturity, is a source of joy for you. Receive,” said Saldu as he tried to plunge the sword into Paul’s heart and spirit. It wouldn’t penetrate.
Saldu dropped his head to his chest, Still the wall of unforgiveness. “Paul, listen, being in unforgiveness moves you out of the fold. Sheep don’t survive well without the shepherd’s loving care. You’re putting yourself at great peril by being on your own. You’re moving into the same territory your dad did.”
“If humans only knew how bitterness and unforgiveness cut them off from Father, they wouldn’t be able to repent fast enough,” said Hael.
The next morning after breakfast, Paul stayed to play with Jordan, giving him a rambunctious piggyback ride. Jordan squealed in delight. Kathy loved watching Paul play with Jordan and threw back her head, laughing at Paul’s imitation of a horse’s whinny.
As Paul was getting ready to leave, Kathy commented, “It says here in The Gazette that Sarah is in the hospital. She apparently fell and broke her hip. What a shame.”
“Yes, that’s too bad.”
“And….”
“And, what?”
“Well, you’re her pastor. Aren’t you going to go visit her?”
“She hasn’t been attending here for a long time. She’s probably with the Baptists or somewhere else.”
The look that Kathy shot him made him squirm. It was like she could prod his conscience through telepathy or something.
“Maybe I’ll stop and see her; that’s the best I can say right now. Ever since she came by the church and tried to tell me….” He stopped abruptly. He’d forgotten he purposely didn’t share that story with Kathy.
“What?”
“Nothing. Forget I mentioned it. I’m late. Gotta go,” he said as he ran out the door, grimacing at his error.
He felt like a creep for ducking out, and he felt bad for not telling Kathy about Sarah stopping by the church. It’s just that he knew she would take it seriously enough to pray about it, and he really didn’t want that.
He passed the hospital on his way to the church but had no intention of stopping. The farther away I get from Sarah the better I feel.
You could be a blessing to her today, whispered Saldu.
“No way,” screeched Unforgiveness. “Keep your distance.”
He put his leather folder down on his desk and plopped into his chair. How could the day start out so good and in a matter of seconds turn bad? If only I would have left one minute earlier, before Kathy read that paragraph in the paper.
He picked up the phone to check his voice mail. He flinched. How can I have 27 messages? That’s more than he usually received in a month. What he didn’t know was that the older adults had also organized the “Call the Pastor Phone Protest.” The messages ranged from cordial and polite with people leaving their names, to several anonymous, angry callers who even used profanity. Larry McBride rambled on for a full three minutes, or there probably would have been a few more callers before the mailbox had filled up.
His day was taking a fast nosedive. What else can go wrong?
Kathy had split her thoughts between Sarah being stuck in the hospital with a broken hip and her curiosity over what sounded like a confrontation she had with Paul. She felt bad for Sarah. She perceived her as a kind of crazy old loner who probably didn’t have much of a support group. Kathy toyed with the thought of visiting Sarah herself. Then she dismissed the idea because she felt her ulterior motive might be to try to get information on Sarah’s meeting with Paul. All morning she wrestled with whether she should go. Finally she felt like she heard a yes from the Lord. Lord, she prayed, Help me to go with Sarah’s best interest at heart and not to satisfy some curiosity of my own.
She dropped Jordan off at Mary’s and then headed to the hospital. She prayed for Sarah all the way. When she entered the hospital room, the first thing she noticed was Sarah reading the Bible and various devotional guides and religious books stacked beside the bed. The second thing she noticed was that there were no flowers. She made a mental note to call the church secretary and have her order some.
“Hello,” she said, approaching Sarah’s bed. “I’m Kathy Reynolds, Pastor Paul’s wife.”
Sarah’s face brightened immediately. She had prayed for them so much that there was a special place for them in her heart, almost like they were family members she never saw.
“Hello. Please sit down.”
“Thanks,” said Kathy, scooting the chair toward the front of the bed. “Well, what happened?”
“I’m afraid the details are too embarrassing. Let’s just say I fell and broke my hip and leave it at that,” said Sarah with a chagrined look.
Kathy relaxed. She immediately felt drawn to Sarah and she had no idea why.
They talked chitchat for a while: therapy, hospital food, hospital gowns, and pain medicine.
Kathy was at first pleased when Sarah asked about Jordan, but then she remembered that Paul had been concerned. I can’t believe she has some kind of fixation on Jordan; she just seems like the grandmotherly type. Kathy considered herself fairly discerning when it came to people, and she had been immediately at ease around Sarah so she dismissed the thought.
“I notice you have a lot of reading material. I hope the days go fast for you.”
“I’m looking forward to catching up on my praying. Especially my prayer walking.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. It doesn’t look like you’ll be walking, at least for a while.”
“I can prayer walk in my mind. I’ve done it so much that I can visualize every house. It’s even better this way. I used to be worn out after I walked four blocks, but now, when I finish, I can go around again,” she said with a smile, pointing to her head.
“Ask her ‘How long she’s been prayer walking,’” said Valoe.
“I started just about the time that you moved here,” replied Sarah. Valoe dropped the revelation into Kathy’s mind.
“Did you pray for us, in front of our house?”
“Yes, you were on my regular route. Sometimes I walked morning and evening, and some times just morning. On days that I didn’t walk, I always prayed for your family. I received a specific word from the Lord that I was supposed to do that.”
Kathy could feel her eyes watering. She was deeply touched and equally grieved by the way Paul had accused Sarah of being a lunatic. All the time she was fervently praying for us.
“Sarah, may I pray for you before I go?” She reached out and took her hand.
CHAPTER 31
“I don’t have to attend every argument I’m invited to.”
Unknown
“Anger is a bad counselor.”
French Proverb
Paul was shuffling papers on his desk just to have something to do so he could avoid going home. The secretary was gone; so was the janitor; it was almost 7:30. “I guess if I don’t go home soon, she’ll have two things to be mad about.” He collected his papers and lumbered toward the door.
He pulled up in front of the house and sat in the car for a while. He felt like a kid who had crayoned the walls and now mom had seen it. Why hadn’t he just told Kathy about Sarah’s word? He already had Sarah pegged as crazy so maybe Kathy wouldn’t have taken it too seriously. He was kicking himself now. He slouched into the house and tried to pretend nothing was wrong. Let her make the first move.
Kathy had been upset all day that Paul had purposely concealed some sort of information from her. She had been praying that she could share her hurt and frustration in a way that he could understand. She was also praying that she wouldn’t fly off the handle. She felt like she was pretty much under control—until she heard the key in the lock, and then she wanted to run to the doorway and unload. She took a few deep breaths and decided to let him make the first move. After all, he was the one who needed to apologize.
“Hi, Hon, sorry I’m a little late.”
“No problem. Dinner in five minutes. Get Jordan.”
“OK.”
Paul was thinking, She didn’t say anything about Sarah, and she seems to be in an OK mood. Maybe I’m off the hook.
Kathy was thinking, He didn’t say anything about Sarah; he’s such a weasel.
They sat down to dinner, said an obligatory prayer, and started eating. The silverware against the plates was the only noise. Finally Paul broke the silence, “What did you do today honey?”
“Not much,” she said nonchalantly, “some laundry, fixed dinner, played with Jordan. Oh, I almost forgot,” her tone turned sarcastic, “I visited Sarah in the hospital.” That stopped Paul in mid-bite. His defensiveness overtook him, “I can’t believe you went all the way to the hospital and pretended to care about a complete stranger, someone you don’t even know, just to try to milk information out of her. That’s pretty low, disguising your fact-finding trip under the guise of ministry.”
Kathy thought, Ha, I’ve got him now. She paused for a moment to compose herself. “For your information, I didn’t go to the hospital to try to get information out of Sarah. I went because she is a church member and I doubted that you would visit her. I didn’t even bring up whatever happened between you two.” She was trying not to, but she was feeling smug.
“What happened anyway?”
“She tried to give me a prophetic word,” mumbled Paul. “And what was the word she gave you?”
Paul shrugged, “Nothing really,” he said, trying to sound laid-back. “She came to my office one day and tried to tell me that God had shown her that I was supposed to take a part-time job as chaplain at the new jail and that we were supposed to minister there together.” He paused briefly. “See, it’s a ridiculous word; the woman is half crazy. She has this fixation about me anyway; she just wants me to go to the jail so I can be with her. I saw through her word immediately.”
Angels of Humility: A Novel Page 19
