Pastor Samson's Secret Sins: The Story Of A Strong Man of God With A Weakness For Women

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Pastor Samson's Secret Sins: The Story Of A Strong Man of God With A Weakness For Women Page 7

by Liberty Gaines


  Dear Jesus, you must come to the rescue. And you must come soon.

  Chapter 3

  Faith Carries The Light

  FAITH CARRIES THE light of truth, which eliminates the shadow of doubt.

  The unexpected meeting with Armsteadt, Bunky and Madeleine Stone had left Precious reeling. It affected her deeply. After she had asked the intruders to leave the house she sank down on her couch and cried. Waves of confusion and fear washed over her. Just like the waves at the beach during high tide, these waves reached further into her heart by the minute and caused a flood of pain and despair.

  Normally Precious knew what to do with her doubts. She knew the scriptural admonition Cast your burden upon the Lord and He shall sustain thee,* but today it didn’t seem to be an option.

  God was far away and seemed out of reach for some reason.

  But crying felt good. It brought some relief.

  As Precious relived the experience she gritted her teeth. What nerve did these people have, coming into her home and demanding that she would sign some sort of document that would ensure her husband’s downfall? Snakes in the grass they were. Snakes, full of bitter poison.

  But it wasn’t the bitter face of Madeleine Stone that disturbed Precious the most, or the smooth and selfish tongue of Bob Armsteadt or the lukewarm, spineless attitude of Bunky Weaslemeyer. What bothered her most was that what these folks were saying was the truth. Samson was behaving badly. He was wicked.

  Samson did not accept any criticism. He revelled in the worshiping eyes of the church members and was constantly worried about finances. He virtually never prayed and the only people on the board of directors in the Happy Redeemer Church were a bunch of jellyfish that had no courage to stand up to him. She had no direct proof of his sexual activities outside his marriage, but she didn’t need more proof. She had often smelled strange perfumes on his shirts when she was doing the laundry.

  “Why God…Why did You tell me to marry him?” She lifted her tearstained eyes to the ceiling but received no answer. She recalled the message that God had given her when she had asked Him the question of whether or not to marry Samson. God had given her the message of Hosea who had to marry a harlot in the Old Testament. An unfaithful harlot that constantly ran around with other lovers. That was Samson all right. He was an adulterer and ran after many other lovers and that included more than only Madeleine Stone. Why could people not see that pride, lust and greed were lovers too that were as bad as an actual physical lover? But God had used that story to illustrate His own love for the unfaithful and adulterous nation of Israel at the time. God was faithful. That was the message. His love stood strong in spite of Israel’s unfaithfulness. He always forgave when there was genuine repentance.

  But Samson… would he ever come to the knowledge of the truth? And what was her role in all this? At the time, God had also shown her that Satan was fighting, but that there was a victory if she would prevail in her prayers…But there was no victory in sight. Precious shook her head and a fresh wave of salty tears rolled in out of the ocean of discouragement.

  Maybe it was time to quit.

  *Psalm 55:22

  *

  When Precious looked into the eyes of the young woman in the coffee bar she felt God’s comfort and grace reaching out to her. As she wiped a tear from her eyes, the young woman who squeezed Precious’ hands gave her an understanding smile.

  She had bumped into her in the supermarket an hour earlier. The woman had asked her if she knew where the diapers where and Precious had graciously escorted her to the baby section. She had given her a warm smile as she stacked several packs of Pampers into her cart.

  “Got twins,” she said apologetically, “but they are worth every penny.” She studied Precious’ face for a moment and then raised her eyebrows. “Forgive me for asking Ma’am, but, are you all right?”

  Precious blushed. Was it that obvious that she had been crying? She bit her lips and nodded. “Sure…I am fine. I-I eh…I am really happy.”

  The young woman apparently did not believe her and asked, “Tell you what. Can I invite you for a cup of special coffee in my favorite lunch room?”

  Precious looked doubtful. “I am in the middle of shopping.”

  The woman nodded. “Me too, but there’s an end to what my wallet can afford. How about we finish our shopping, stuff the goods into the car and then we’ll go.” She gave a small giggle and added, “I’ll even treat you on some of Albert’s chocolate cream puffs. If you taste those you are hooked for life.”

  Precious looked at her. The woman was a bubble of enthusiastic joy and the smile on her face was certainly contagious. She seems nice enough.

  After the woman had thrown some baby cream into the shopping cart, she wiped a strand of her long golden blond hair out of her face and looked expectantly at Precious. Her gentle green eyes seemed sincere and eager to make a new friend. “Well…How about it?”

  Precious had been in the valley of despair for a few days now and the thought of a comforting cup of coffee was tempting. “All right,” she said with a weak smile. “Coffee it is, but I don’t like cream puffs.”

  The young woman burst out laughing. “Then apple pie it shall be. I am Mary, Mary Culbert.” She extended her hand and Precious shook it and felt better already.

  “I am Precious Jackson. Let me finish my shopping and I’ll meet you at the counter in a little while.”

  “What a pretty name,” Mary said. “Well, let’s finish our shopping. Take your time. My twins are with my mother right now, so I have the time.”

  After they entered Albert’s Corner and were comfortably seated with a steaming cup of cappuccino, apple pie and chocolate cream puffs, Mary Culbert smiled and then, in her apparent outgoing fashion, grasped the nettle. “You’ve been crying, Precious. What’s wrong? You are too beautiful a girl to be crying.”

  “Eh…I-I,” Precious stammered. Could she trust this young woman? But it was as if a stop was taken out of the bottle and her pent up emotions just rolled out. “Y-You see…I am a Christian and my husband is a pastor…”

  Mary’s eyes grew big. “Don’t tell me your husband is Reverend Jackson? The one from the Sunday TV show Glories of the Kingdom?”

  Precious just nodded.

  “We’ve been praying for him,” Mary continued.

  Precious looked up. “You’ve been doing what?”

  “We’ve been praying for him. Our prayer group has. He sure knows how to deliver a good message, but something about him seems odd. It’s almost as if he doesn’t really know God.”

  “Are you a believer?” Precious asked.

  “Sure,” Mary Culbert smiled, “Can’t do without the Savior. He’s my hero, my rock, and my refuge.”

  Precious looked up at the ceiling and whispered a soft word of thanks. Thank you, dear God, for helping me again in my time of trouble.

  And so she spilled out her whole story.

  She told Mary all about Samson’s activities. She told her about the vision of Hosea, about his wrong attitudes, about his drinking and his love for other female company. She told her about Madeleine Stone and about Bob Armsteadt…And when she was finished she cried big salty tears.

  “I am so confused,” she sobbed. “The visit from these people the other day was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  “Your coffee is cold.” Mary just said with another smile. “Want another one?”

  Precious shook her head and sniffed. “Thank you. It feels so good to get it all off my chest.”

  “You’ve been fighting this battle by yourself for too long, Precious,” Mary said. “This battle is just too hard for one person alone. We’ll have to start to carry you in prayer. I think God led us to each other. Remember, He will never allow more on your shoulders than you can handle.”

  Precious smiled through her tears. “I think you are right.”

  “God loves you so much, Precious,” Mary went on. “He sees your struggles and He knows how difficul
t it is to fight these waves of doubt and discouragement. We all feel that way sometimes. I know what it feels like when you think you just can’t go on another day. But Jesus cares for you deeply and His heart is touched with your grief. He is right there beside you and so are we! In Christ, you are never alone.”

  “It feels so good to get it off my chest,” Precious said with a big grin. “Like a load is falling off my shoulders.”

  “Why don’t you come to our prayer meeting? We have one every Monday night. I would love for you to meet the others and we can join forces to fight the enemy and make sure God’s plans for you and your husband will not be hindered by the Evil One.”

  “I’d like that,” said Precious. “If I am welcome, I’ll most gladly come.”

  “One can chase a thousand,” Mary said, “but two can put ten thousand to flight. From now on we will fight together to further God’s plan and His Kingdom.”

  “That’s a deal,” said Precious. She felt like singing, but figured it would not be appreciated in Albert’s Corner, so she simply held on to Mary’s hand and whispered, “Thank you, Mary.”

  “And now you need to eat that apple pie,” Mary said, “otherwise I am going to eat it.”

  Chapter 4

  Guilty Conscience

  A GUILTY CONSCIENCE needs no accuser

  From: Abraxas

  To: Boghule

  Boghule, The Master and I are flabbergasted by your stupidity.

  How is it that you allowed the one called Precious to meet with a true warrior of the One Whose Name We Dare Not Speak? Have you been sleeping on the job?

  You have underestimated the craft of our enemy. The progress we so painstakingly made has now been lost, thanks to you.

  The Master is considering replacing you. In the meantime keep this dung beetle by the name of Samson busy with his own sins until you hear from me.

  In the name of the glorious Netherworld,

  Angry Abraxas

  *

  “How then shall we proceed?” Bob Armsteadt narrowed his eyes and looked at Madeleine Stone and Bunky Weaslemeyer, hoping for an intelligent solution. Bunky just shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. Madeleine thought for a moment and a smile appeared on her face.

  “When I divorced my ex-husband Bert, I hired a private eye. Maybe we can use him again. He’s pretty good.”

  “You want to hire a detective to spy on Samson?” Armsteadt asked.

  Madeleine nodded. “He’s skilled. Of course, he costs a penny or two, but we could split the costs.”

  Armsteadt curled his lips. “I’ll talk to the board about it. What will this man do?”

  “Follow Samson, make pictures. Things like that. I’ve heard Samson visits prostitutes. It shouldn’t be hard to catch him in a crime. He’s so deluded that he is careless. Once we get him on something like this, the rest will automatically follow. We just need to have something substantial.”

  “Yeah,” said Bunky. “That’s what I was thinking. In the meantime, we can also put some pressure on Samson’s deacons. Maybe they will betray him. “

  “How,” Madeleine wanted to know.

  Bunky swallowed. “I know an ex-con. Used to be in prison and I met him recently. He’s a base fellow, really, but he would serve our purposes.”

  “Go on,” urged Madeleine.

  “Well, he’s pretty violent. He will have no trouble scaring the deacons in Happy Redeemer.”

  Armsteadt and Madeleine exchanged glances. “Interesting,” Armsteadt said at last.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Fox,” Bunky said. “His name is Jimmy Fox.”

  *

  “I hate them.”

  Samson’s nostrils flared as he shook his head and his eyes resembled bitter holes of darkness. His long dreadlocks swung around as if he was being attacked by bees. “No, no, no! They are all lying to bring me down.”

  Precious was sitting on the couch and stared at her husband as he was pacing back and forth. “Calm down, Samson. Just tell me the truth. What really happened?”

  “Nothing happened.” Samson was steaming. “Who does Madeleine Stone thinks she is anyway. And you said she even came to my house a few months ago?”

  Precious nodded. “I told you. She and Pastor Armrests came by. There was this assistant pastor too, a shady fellow if you ask me.”

  “Armsteadt,” Samson corrected her. “His name is Armsteadt.”

  “Whatever,” Precious said as she looked again at the letter on the table before her. “I agree that the Stone woman was creepy, but she keeps sending me these letters. Why does she write that you slept with a prostitute called Candy Casselmann? Is that all a lie, Samson?” Precious looked up and raised her eyebrows. Samson just grunted and she read on.

  “She wrote, and I quote, ‘this Candy is an unprincipled, vile, inappropriate, dishonorable slut, and your husband knows her in every sense of the word.’ Precious sighed and dropped the letter. Samson, I am your wife. You can trust me, but you must be honest with me. Together with God we can find our way home—”

  “—I am home,” Samson snorted. “Madeleine Stone is just jealous.”

  “Jealous of what?”

  Samson shrugged. “I don’t know. She probably wants power or something.”

  “No, Samson,” Precious said. “I think she is jealous because you dropped her.”

  Since Precious had joined Mary’s prayer group she no longer felt the pangs of discouragement and hopelessness that had attacked her so severely before. She felt refreshed and wanted to fight the powers of darkness. And letting Samson off the hook was not a part of that fight.

  “She doesn’t sound like a woman looking for power. She sounds like a jilted woman. What’s going on, Samson?”

  Samson was very quiet. He stared at the floor and plucked on his dreadlocks.

  “Well, Samson?”

  “You wouldn’t understand, Precious,” he finally said. “You’re old school. You do everything by the book, but I am God’s chosen. I go much further.”

  Precious narrowed her eyes. “I don’t get it, Samson. It says in the Good Book that the Word of God is the same yesterday, today and forever. There’s no such thing as old school and new school. The Word is the same.”

  “W-well…eh…” stammered Samson. “Solomon had a thousand wives. I am like him in many ways. I represent the new relationship God seeks with the church. You know…like the bridal theology.”

  “The what, Samson?”

  Samson coughed and rubbed his forehead. He was sweating. “Well, you know. God loves the church and I am doing that too… as an example.”

  Precious shook her head. “My dear Samson, you are really off the track.”

  Her words angered him. He jumped up and clenched his fist. “It’s because you are old school. And people like Armsteadt are even worse.” His eyes flashed. “So what if I slept with Madeleine. I’ve not sinned. It was all done for the Kingdom. Sure I dropped her. She’s crazy.”

  “Dropped her for Candy Casselmann…a prostitute?”

  Samson glared at her. “No, not for…eh…Never mind. You just won’t understand.”

  Precious felt her chest tighten. She recalled the words she had received in prayer the day she asked God if she was to marry Samson.

  Sam, Sam, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for you that your own faith may not fail. *

  “Stop pacing, Samson,” she asked. “It makes sense. Madeleine Stone fell in love with you, but then you dropped her for another woman. She is hurt and since she is such a bitter and vengeful woman she is out to get you, right?”

  But Samson did not answer.

  “And who’s Candy?”

  “Candy?”

  “Yes…Candy Casselmann?”

  Samson shrugged his shoulders. “She’s just a sheep of God’s fold. I ministered unto her. That’s what pastors do, you know.”

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  Samson
shuffled his feet and studied his fingernails.

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  Samson bit his lips. “A little bit.”

  Precious shook her head. “Oh my Lord; and all for the good of the Kingdom, right?”

  Samson looked up. “Don’t mock me, Precious. I am an anointed, chosen vessel.”

  Precious looked up at her husband with glistening eyes. Her words were barely audible. “Sit down next to me Samson.”

  Samson hesitated. He stared for a moment at Precious and stuck his hands in his pockets.

  “Come on, Samson. Sit down.”

  “Fine.” He walked over to the couch and sank down next to Precious who took his hands in hers.

  “Listen, Samson,” Precious said. “This is what I’ll do. I will be your faithful wife, even though you, in my humble opinion, are really off the track. God instructed me to stand by your side and fight for you. That I will do. I’ll cook and clean and I will continue to love you. But I won’t be coming to Happy Redeemer anymore.”

  Samson’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  Precious wasn’t finished. “I will be joining the small church of my friend, Mary Culbert. My walk with God is the most important thing in my life. I need true spiritual strength.”

  Samson’s face became pale. “B-But, your singing is important. And what will the congregation say if you are no longer there to support me? What will it look like? Am I not feeding you the word?”

  Precious shook her head. “No, Samson, you are not. Talk to God about it. He’s capable enough. I can only help you by leaving your church.”

  Samson bit his lip. “That’s stupid. How can you help me by leaving me?”

  “I am not leaving you, Samson. Just as God is not leaving you altogether either. I just need to preserve my walk with God so I can serve Him in the best way.”

  Samson pulled his hands away and jumped up. “Fine…you do what you want.” He wrinkled his nose and said in a loud voice, “I always heard that life on the mountain is lonely. Now I know that’s true.” Then he turned around and slammed the door as he walked out.

 

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