“An affair?” Sam froze. “H-How do you know?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Madeleine said. She fumbled with her ring and stared at the big, black Bible on Sam’s desk. “Women know these things,” she went on. “He comes home at odd hours, and he’s…well, he is just different.”
Sam wanted to reach over and hold her, but he knew that wasn’t the right thing to do.
“I’ve hired a private eye,” Madeleine continued.
“A detective?” Sam couldn’t believe his ears.
Madeleine nodded her head in confirmation. “I know what he’ll find. Bert is betraying me.”
“You don’t know for sure,” Sam tried to comfort her, but Madeleine burst out crying. Sam couldn’t hold back any longer. This sheep of God’s fold needed comfort. He stepped around his desk and after he knelt down by Madeleine’s seat, he placed his arms around her. Madeleine looked up at him with tearstained eyes.
“Don’t worry, Madeleine…I…eh…we will solve this problem.”
She bit her lips and blubbered, “That’s why I came. I needed to feel the strong arms of God.”
Sam understood. As he gently rubbed Madeleine’s shoulders she started to play with his dreadlocks and held them to her lips. After they had sat like this for a good five minutes Sam started to desperately hope Annie wouldn’t come in.
“I feel much better, Pastor,” Madeleine finally spoke up. She moved her legs and caressed Sam’s face. Sam swallowed as he looked deep into her misty, blue eyes. Had he ever seen such eyes? For a moment, he felt the temptation to jump into these longing gateways to a world of pleasure and mystery and just disappear. But he shook his head and fought off the feeling.
“I am thankful I could be a comfort to you,” he stammered as he started to rub his own head in confusion and got up.
Madeleine dried her tears and smiled. “Me too, Pastor. I was afraid you would just preach at me or just shove me off with a prayer. But I feel so lost and needed to have a bit more than a sermon and a prayer.”
Sam nodded. He understood that too. Prayer was good and well, but sometimes a little action was more in place. Why couldn’t Precious see that?
As he walked around his desk again and sat down in his office chair, Madeleine looked at him with expectant eyes. “M-May I ask you a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Would you counsel me some more in the weeks to come? It doesn’t have to be boring. We could go to a restaurant or something like that, or a tearoom…”
As Sam looked at her longing eyes he wanted to scream, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” He would be overjoyed.
Instead, he swallowed. He knew going out alone with a female other than his wife was not a good idea. That was something they had warned about in seminary. However, this woman was really sincere and desperately needed a strong counselor. Wasn’t that his calling? Besides, meeting her in a restaurant was as safe as changing a baby’s diaper.
“Will you?” Madeleine asked with a tiny voice.
Come on Sam. Don’t be a dork.
“Sure,” he said louder than he had wanted. He glanced at his agenda. “Maybe Thursday afternoon?”
Madeleine seemed pleased. “How about one o’clock in The Hungry Bear?”
The Hungry Bear? Sam bit his lip. That was an expensive place. He had only been there one time before on a pastor’s retreat.
“My treat,” Madeleine said with a smile. “And, by the way,” she continued, “I told my husband your church need more finances, so he wrote you a cheque.” She opened her leather purse, fished out an envelope and handed it to Sam.
“How did you know we needed money,” he stammered.
“Well, Pastor. You’re a man of God. Don’t you live on donations?” Madeleine’s laughter echoed through the room. “Come on, open it up.”
When Sam ripped the envelope open and looked at the cheque he started to shake. “T-Thank you, Madeleine…T-That is a lot of money.”
Madeleine just smiled and got up. “It’s all right, Pastor. That’s what bankers are for.” Then she turned and moved her body towards the door. Her blond curls were waving goodbye as she opened the door and turned around one last time. “Thank you so much, Pastor. We will be seeing more of each other then.”
Sam nodded. “Bye, Madele…eh, Mrs.Stone.”
When the door closed behind her he leaned back in his chair and smiled to himself as he looked at the cheque again. Then he buzzed Annie.
“Yes, Mr. Jackson,” came Annie’s voice over the intercom.
“Annie, can you find me the telephone number of the agent for the Christian rock band, Roaming Cain. We’re going to book them.”
Chapter 5
If You Think You Are Humble
IF YOU THINK you are humble, you probably aren’t!
Never before in the history of Happy Redeemer had so many young people come to church as in the month Roaming Cain whipped up the service with their enchanting music. Sam had been tickled pink and couldn’t wait until the deacons were done counting the money from the offering.
“It’s much more than you prayed for,” Deacon Ray Bradford announced after he closed the books and leaned back in his chair.
Sam grunted with satisfaction. “Good. We’re on the right road, Ray. And what about the other statistics?”
Ray picked up another folder and opened it up. “Twenty-five conversions and ten new members that have promised to tithe, and that was only last Sunday.”
Sam pressed his lips together. “Ten new people to tithe? That’s amazing.” He couldn’t hide his joy. As he leaned forwards he slapped Ray on the shoulder. “We’re…eh; God is doing it, Ray. We’re growing in all areas.”
Ray looked down.
“And Pastor Cash Biggins?” Sam continued, “Is he finally happy with the financial perks we are offering him?”
Ray nodded. “He’s coming, Pastor. He just confirmed it.” But Ray’s voice lacked enthusiasm. Sam noticed he looked troubled.
“What’s wrong, Ray? Aren’t you happy we’re doing so well? “
Ray looked up and sighed. “Of course I am happy, Pastor. It’s just…well you know…”
“What?” Sam demanded.
“Eh…There’s so much emphasis on church growth, finances, and numbers that sometimes I fear we leave God behind.”
A dark shadow flashed over Sam’s face. “What do you mean, Ray?”
Ray shrugged his shoulders. “I mean…I am happy with the income and the growth of the church—”
“And…?”
“Well…” Ray hesitated, “I always believed quality is more important that quantity. Are these new converts really touched by a desire for true Christian living or is it just an emotional hype?”
“What do you mean by ‘An emotional hype’?”
Ray pressed his lips together. “Well…eh…you know, there’s so much emphasis on feeling good and on the outward show, but I miss the more hidden qualities of faith, like prayer and deep communion with God.”
“Explain!”
Ray looked into Sam’s brown eyes and sighed. “Remember Mary and Martha, Pastor? Martha was constantly busy, but Martha wanted to hear from Jesus. She had chosen the good thing. I am afraid we’re getting to be like Martha.”
For a moment, Sam didn’t say anything. Then he swallowed hard and his eyes flashed with anger. “Ray Bradford, are you questioning the ways of the Lord?”
“N-No, Pastor…I-I just—” But Sam cut him off.
“Who are you anyway Ray Bradford to even doubt the sincerity of these new converts. Do you have a hotline to heaven or something?” Some spit flew out of his mouth and landed on Ray Bradford’s jacket. “Are you a prophet too, like I am? Did you know it was prophesied of me by the great prophet Jeremiah Black, that I am God’s anointed for this age?”
Ray lowered his eyes again and shuffled his feet. “Yes, Pastor…I heard that.”
“Then you also know,” Sam thundered, “that you need to be careful when you question the
Lord’s anointed. Remember Miriam, the sister of Moses. She did that and became a leper. Is that what you want, Ray Bradford?”
Ray’s face had become white and he bit his lips.
“It’s because of people like you,” Sam continued his tirade, “that Happy Redeemer has been such an empty church for so long and the fight for renewal is such an uphill fight.”
Ray shook his head and mumbled something under his breath. “I demand an apology and immediate repentance from your sin of rebellion and pride.”
“What?” Ray’s eyes became wide. “My sin of rebellion and pride?”
“You heard me.” Sam scowled. “An apology!”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong, pastor,” Ray answered. “You asked why I was troubled and I told you so.”
Sam was desperately struggling to remain calm and collected. As a pastor, he could not afford to scream, but life was so very difficult when he was met with such stupidity and doubt. A scripture verse came to mind. My own familiar friend, in whom I trusted and who did eat of my bread, hath lifted his heel against me.* King David apparently had those same difficulties. But, like King David, he too would fight on as a man after God’s own heart.
He looked up again and studied Ray, whose sad, green eyes were sunken deep in his face.
“Ray,” he finally said. “No apology?”
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Pastor.” Ray looked puzzled.
“Fine, Ray.” Sam was calm again. “I understand. It’s no problem.”
“Pastor?”
“I accept your resignation as a deacon of Happy Redeemer. Clear out your office and see if you will be happier elsewhere. I need people around me who have the same vision and drive and will help God to reach the top.”
“But Pastor…I…eh—”
“Goodbye, Ray. Go with God. Be ye warmed and filled. All the best to you.”
*
“There were some problems with Ray Bradford.” Sam had just come home and sat down at the dinner tabIe. “I accepted his resignation today.” Sam put his long dreadlocks behind him and picked up his spoon. The pea soup Precious had prepared smelled delicious and his stomach growled.
“He resigned?” Precious raised her eyebrows. “Why?”
“He’s a dissident. Not a very happy fellow.” Sam started to slurp his soup. “Good soup, Precious.”
“Sam Jackson,” Precious seemed indignant. “Don’t we need to say grace anymore before we enjoy the Lord’s blessings?”
“Huh?” Sam looked up. “Sorry.” He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer. “Thank you, God for the food and for Precious, Amen.”
Precious shook her head as she pulled out a chair and joined Sam at the table.
“I liked Ray Bradford,” she said. “He seemed like a decent fellow.”
Sam shook his head. “Appearances are deceptive, Precious,” he said while some soup drooled out of his mouth. “He’s a backslider. It’s always better to have an enemy on the outside than on the inside.”
“Enemy? I thought you two were friends? And did the board accept his resignation?”
Sam shook his head. “I’ll tell ‘em tomorrow. But the board, that’s basically me. But to be honest, I am glad Ray showed his true colors. I never trusted him.” He stirred with his spoon in the soup and looked for more chunks of meat. When he couldn’t find any he looked up. “Next time I’d like a bit more meat, Precious. I am a man and I need my strength.”
Precious didn’t answer.
“By the way,” he went on, “I’ve got another idea.”
“O?”
A mysterious smile appeared on Sam’s face. “Remember how Abram changed his name into Abraham when things were going well for him?”
Precious frowned. “And?”
“I am going to change my name too.”
“You are?”
“Things are going so well now that I think my progress needs to be reflected in my name.” Sam scooped up another bowl of soup. “From now on, I want to be called Reverend Samson.” He sighed with deep satisfaction as he stared at Precious. “It’s nice huh? I thought of it when I came home today.”
“Reverend Samson?” Precious swallowed.
“Yeah, of course. I am having long hair, like Samson and I am special too, like Samson. I think it suits me.”
“But Abram didn’t change his own name. God did.”
Sam frowned. “Well…God gave me this inspiration, Precious. That’s the same thing isn’t it?” He stared for a moment at his wife and then shrugged his shoulders. “Anyway, after you’ve done the dishes would you want to sing for me? I feel a bit down after today’s struggles and could use a bit of inspiration.”
“Sure, Reverend Samson,” Precious sighed. “Anything you say.”
*
Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands; that, if any obey not the word, they also may without the word be won by the conversation of the wives; While they behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear.*
Precious closed the Bible that was resting on her lap and she lifted her eyes to Heaven. She needed this time alone with God. Studying the Bible and pouring out her heart before God was the only thing that carried her through in her fight to hold onto her husband. She had realized it would be tough, but sometimes it was almost getting too much.
“Dear Jesus…You’ve given me such a difficult job. Sam is not walking in Your ways, right now. But he’s not seeing it. Please keep him Lord and help me to not give up on him. You told me, Lord, that I needed to fight for him in prayer and that’s what I do, but it’s so hard to see him walking in pride. Give me the grace to hold on to that man because You have a plan and You always know best. Thank You, Lord, for being so close to me. Amen.”
*Psalm 41:9
*1 Peter 3:1-2
Chapter 6
Darkness Cannot Stand
DARKNESS CANNOT STAND the light, and wrong cannot bear the right.
The Hungry Bear was impressive. The structure was overlooking the bay of Crystal Lake at the edge of town and rested on several white marble pillars. It ensured that the customers near the window could look out over the vast lake and feel like they were on a voyage. Those sentiments were enhanced by the lustrous, wooden interior of the restaurant. It was almost an exact copy of the famous Mayflower that had landed some of the first pioneers in America so long ago. Soft classical music, mixed with the shrieking cries of seagulls and crashing ocean waves was playing at the background in order to help all the restaurant goers to forget the world outside for a moment and help them to relax. It made the spectacle complete. When Samson stepped in the door and smelled the delicious odors of roasted meat and the penetrating scent of garlic, his stomach growled.
“Excuse me, Sir,” A neatly dressed waiter stepped up, “Do you have a reservation?”
Samson looked at the man and nodded. “Yes, my good fellow. My name is Jackson. Reverend Samson Jackson. I have a meeting with Mrs. Stone.”
“Ah, Mrs. Stone,” the waiter smiled. “She’s waiting for you.”
The waiter made a little bow and pointed to a table near the window. Madeleine Stone saw him coming in and waved with her fingers in greeting.
“Thank you,” Samson said to the waiter and navigated passed several tables over the plush carpet to Madeleine Stone.
“Hello, Pastor Sam Jackson,” She was beaming a gorgeous smile and Samson swallowed. This woman was stunningly beautiful. Today, she was wearing a tight, green low-cut dress that perfectly accentuated all the attractive curves of her slender body. It revealed a lot more of her angelic body than at their last visit and Samson swallowed hard. Her blond hair was perfectly tied in a bun. Not a hair was out of place. Her red fingernails played with the shining, crystal necklace around her neck and as she looked up into Samson’s eyes and cast him her inviting smile, Samson knew he was in the presence of a queen. He realized with great clarity that Bert Stone was as stupid as a donkey.
“H-Hello, Madele…eh, Mr
s. Stone.”
“Please, call me Madeleine,” she said and made an inviting gesture with her hand. Samson pulled out his chair and gracefully slid down opposite Madeleine.
“So glad you could come, Pastor Sam,” Madeleine said. Her smile seemed to be pasted on her shining face, but Samson realized his own smile was not an inch smaller.
After Samson had placed the napkin on his lap he said, “I actually changed my name.”
“You did?” Madeleine giggled. “I liked your name. What must I call you then?”
Samson bit his lips. “I am Reverend Samson, now.”
Madeleine pursed her red lips. “Impressive. Very impressive. I like it.” She gently touched Samson’s hands and then asked, “But if it’s all right with you, I’ll just call you Samson then.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Reverend sound so official, and that would hinder our counseling sessions.”
“Y-Yes…That’s true.” Samson blushed.
“You want an appetizer. I’ll have another whiskey.”
Samson blushed again. “I-I eh…I…”
“Don’t drink alcohol?” Madeleine finished his sentence. “That’s good, Samson. A good habit to have, but let me treat you today. Today is different. And on a different day real men do different things. How about it…whiskey too?”
“Why not?” Samson was convinced. After all, he was a real man and real men needed real drinks. “I’ll join you, Madeleine. Whiskey for me.”
Madeleine raised her index finger and motioned for the waiter to come. He immediately showed up.
“Two more whiskeys, Jacques. And bring us the menu too, please.”
The waiter nodded respectfully and disappeared.
“How is it going with Ber…eh your husband, Madeleine?”
Madeleine wrinkled her nose. “It’s dreadful, Samson. I am not sure why he’s treating me like this. I am so thankful I can talk to you about these matters.”
She looked out over the lake and sighed. “Just wish life would be as beautiful as this lake.” Samson followed her gaze and had to agree with her.
Jacques already returned with the whiskeys and handed them two menus as well. As Samson bravely placed the whiskey at his lips, Madeleine batted her eyes at him and smiled. It made him feel warm inside, and he gulped down the whiskey in one big swig as he had seen other men do.
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