Author: Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 29

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 29

SEVEN SALLIE

BECAUSE YOU HAVE KEPT MY COMMAND TO PERSEVERE, I ALSO WILL KEEP YOU FROM THE HOUR OF TRIAL WHICH SHALL COME UPON THE WHOLE WORLD, TO TEST THOSE WHO DWELL UPON THE EARTH. (Revelation 3:10)

            “There they are!” The leader of an angry mob of about two dozen men yelled.

            Inga and C.S. Lewis were sprinting out of the woods with the mob on their tail. They came toward the small group of us that were sitting on Lewis’s deck overlooking his back yard. Between their hostility and the side effects of the loathsome sores from the first plague (Revelation 16:2), they looked like a band of demons.

            All of us offered up prayers on the order of ‘Lord help us!’

            There were about twenty steps leading up to the large deck. No sooner had Inga and C. S. taken them two at a time, when a being that glowed bright white suddenly appeared at the foot. He waved a laser like sword that blazed with a brilliant silvery hue.

            The angry group fell back in a manner that reminded me of John chapter eighteen when the mob was seeking to arrest Jesus. Our Savior had asked who they were seeking. When they replied, “Jesus of Nazareth,” our Lord replied, “I am He,” and they all fell back.

            Sin makes people stupid. Instead of fleeing, the mob still pursued Jesus. Although He could have annihilated them with a word, our Lord allowed Himself to be taken. Not only that, when one of his disciples cut off an ear of one of Jesus’s captors, Jesus healed it. Yet another element that should have given them pause.

            Not unlike those responsible for the death of our Redeemer, this mob stood their ground. Well, actually they did take a couple steps back. But then the hair on the back of my neck raised when the leader barked, “Just give us Seven Sallie!”

            “We’re sorry, Seven!” Inga said, a look of consternation on her face. “We were running scared, we didn’t mean to lead them here.”

            “It’s not your fault,” I replied. Then I frowned as I realized that wasn’t true. Nonetheless, I didn’t hold it against them.

            A chill ran up my spine when the angel looked at me and said, “Come on, Seven.”

            “You’re gonna give me up!”

            The majestic being smiled reassuringly and said, “Fear not, I will approach them with you.”

            “Cool!” I replied confidently. But it turned out to be a similar experience like Peter’s. I’m referring to when he walked to Jesus on the water in Matthew chapter fourteen. Only my experience happened as we walked in C. S. Lewis’s backyard.

            Between the result of their loathsome sores and their open hostility, the mob truly looked like a pack of devils. Yet for every step the angel and I took, the angry mob took two steps back as their fuming countenances turned to fear. Then something changed. The group stopped. Their expressions changed to vengeful delight and bloodthirsty hunger.

            I looked toward my angelic companion, but he was gone! In his place was a feeble looking old man. With a long white beard and kindly eyes, he reminded me of Captain Kirk, our Pastor at Cotton Creek Fellowship back in eastern Iowa.

            “Where’s the, ah…” I frantically looked around! I was about to do a quick retreat when the old man grabbed my forearm with surprising strength. He calmly declared, as if we were out for a casual stroll, “Once again, you need not be afraid. Do you believe me?”

            I could tell by the strong grip on my arm that this was no ordinary geriatric gentleman. I nodded and as the mob descended upon us, the old man simply held up a hand in a stop gesture. I don’t know what the demon inspired group saw. I saw nothing out of the ordinary. But they not only stopped on a dime, they turned and fled, falling over each other in their haste.

            “Who are you?” I asked in awe as I went to one knee and bowed my head.

            “Stand up,” he ordered. Then he quoted the last half of Revelation 19:10 as he gave me a gentle rebuke. “I am your fellow servant, and of your brethren who have the testimony of Jesus. Worship God! For the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.”

            “Yes, sir,” I conceded. Then I tried again. “Who are you?”

            “The name the Savior gave me is Querida,” the old man told me with a gentle smile as he offered me his hand to shake.

            I paused, looking at the hand that caused two dozen men armed with clubs, knives, and even a couple guns, to flee. Still cautious, I raised my eyes from his hand to his eyes. They seemed to be laughing. As I took his hand in my right, I pointed with my left toward the area where the mob fled. “How did you do that?”

            “Would you have asked that if I had remained in my heavenly body?” Querida, pronounced Kayreeda, asked. I found out later that his name means ‘beloved.’

            “You know, I don’t think I would have,” I admitted.

            “Do you not believe that the Lord’s strength is made perfect in weakness?” he asked, quoting a portion of 2 Corinthians 12:9.

            “Until now I would have said yes,” I replied, feeling humbled. Then I cast my gaze that was upon him downward. “But my behavior a moment ago proved otherwise.”

            He patted my shoulder. “Well done.”

            “Well done? I just admitted failure. I just acknowledged that when you transformed from a brilliant angel into a feeble old man, my faith wavered big time.”

            “Just like courage doesn’t mean the absence of fear, going forward in faith doesn’t necessarily mean the absence of doubt. When I asked if you believed, you nodded and went forward. This despite wondering whether I was of God or of the ruler of this world. What convinced you to go forward?”

            (To reference ‘ruler of this world’ see the Gospel of John 12:31, 14:30, and 16:11)

            “Well, I tended to believe you were from God. But I suppose I figured if you weren’t, I trusted what Jesus admonished in Matthew 10:28. They would be able to kill my body, but my soul was safe with God.”

            “Splendid!” Querida beamed.

            “But why an old man?”

            “You mean as opposed to somebody like Brock Storm?” he asked, referring to my cousin who was built like a linebacker who became a pro wrestler.

            “You know of Brock?”

            He arched an eyebrow.

            “Oh right,” I replied to his unspoken insinuation that he was a supernatural being. “How long can you stay in a human body?”

            “It’s human like, but not quite like you. It’s more like a cloak I can only wear for a short time.”

            “Do you always use an old man for a, um, cloak.”

            “Actually, I became an old man this time because I’m tired of this world. Just plain wore out!”

            “You get tired?”

            “Not in the same way you do.”

            “Obviously the second coming of Christ is closer than ever now that the seven last plagues have fallen. So do you know exactly when Jesus will return now?”

            He shook his head. “Matthew 24:36 will be in effect until 1 Thessalonians 4:16 happens.”

            “I see, makes sense. I just thought, well, you know…”

            “I can tell you this much. Between the destruction of the plagues and the very nearness of Christ’s glorious appearing, I’m afraid you won’t be able to go home.”

            I was stunned. “You mean I won’t see my daughter and son again?”

            “Not on this earth, I’m sorry to say. But I’m happy to say you will meet them as you rise into the air to meet Jesus.”

            “And so shall we ever be with the Lord!”

            “Amen, brother!”

            An angel called me brother! “How often have you made yourself known to us humans?”

            He shook his head. “With the seven last plagues having fallen, things are different. There are many cells of believers, like you here, who have obeyed the law of God rather than the laws of men. They need reassurance and sometimes protection.”

            “Acts 5:29,” I added happily, quoting the scripture about obeying God. “So is this the first time you’ve appeared as a person to a person?”

            “Oh no,” he said shaking his head. “But always before, the person I’ve assisted either couldn’t see me, or they thought I was a fellow human.”

            “I feel privileged.”

            “Your friends look worried,” Querida said, pointing. Everyone on the deck was standing at the railing looking concerned. “Come on, let’s go back to our soon to be heavenly, eternal family and reassure them. The dark night of this earth’s history is almost complete.”

(Writer’s note: FYI, next week will be the last installment of ‘Black Sabbath.’ The next story I plan to write will be about angels. They are mentioned numerous times in the Bible, even the fallen angels. I’ve always been fascinated contemplating the angelic realm and want to explore in imagination what angels, even fallen ones, might think about our world, etc. I plan to do this mainly through the character you just met, Querida. As always, I thank you for your interest! And I pray God blesses you and yours!)

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 28

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 28

SEVEN SALLIE

THERE IS A GOD IN HEAVEN WHO REVEALS SECRETS (Daniel 2:28)

            I had just opened my mouth to speak when a majestic voice from the heavens filled our ears. It was like the sound of rippling water, deep and melodious. There were a half dozen of us on the deck overlooking C. S. Lewis’s back yard. My companions all looked at me with surprise, as if the words had come from me. But then they turned to the sky, knowing that someone as puny as me could ever vocalize in that manner.

            “It is done!” the sky seemed to declare. But we all knew it was a fulfillment of Revelation 16:17 as the seventh and final plague fell. So none of us were surprised when verse eighteen was fulfilled moments later.

            Yet we were not afraid as the longest, loudest peels of thunder roared across the blue- charcoal gray sky. We gazed around in awe, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up and my skin prickle. Then lightening like nothing we had ever seen, a light show no earthly technology could ever duplicate strobed to and fro.  

            Then came the biggest earthquake in earth’s history. The trees began to sway and the ground trembled. The groaning of the earth made me think of the Jolly Green Giant with indigestion. We all gripped the sides of our chairs as if on an amusement park ride. Yet we were not afraid.

            Our faith was such that we knew we were protected. We were all on the archetypical Ark, if you please. So we were the opposite of afraid, we were in awe, even excited! We had preached the second coming of Jesus for years. Many accused us of crying wolf. Most trusted in their traditions rather than Bible truth. Most followed the teachings of man rather than studying the Word of God themselves like the noble Bereans (Acts 17:11).

            One man had told me a year or two earlier. “You’re waiting for a show that is never gonna happen. The Bible is mythology.”

            Well sir, the lights have just gone down, and the curtain is about to go up! 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 was on the verge of being fulfilled, and we had been exercising verse eighteen which instructed ‘Therefore comfort one another with these words.’

            We did this right up to the voice, the thunder, the lightning and the earthquake. Mostly by sharing testimonies. We heard one more only moments before the last plague fell. This one was more about enduring love rather than the sweetness of a beautiful dog playing matchmaker. The miracle of this enduring love is that neither of the two individuals knew they were inadvertently waiting for the other.

            Like Mick, Luke Daniels was the lead singer of a Christian band. Like Mick and Lindsey, Luke and Hannah’s romance began in full force after one of Luke’s shows.

            “My dad was career military, so we moved a lot,” Hannah said. She had long, nut-brown hair and large, doe like amber eyes. “What made it both better and worse for me was being an only child.”

            “What do you mean by better and worse?” Zella asked.

            “Are you skipping ahead to your wedding vows?” I asked with a little smile.

            Zella smirked at me as she gave me a sideways glance. “Do you think you’re funny?”

            “It was part of our vows.” I defended because I was indeed trying at a little humor, albeit unsuccessfully.

            “Hannah was referring to moving frequently and being an only child,” Zella explained to me as if I were a child. “She hadn’t even gotten to meeting Luke yet. Let alone marriage vows.”

            “Gotcha,” I replied feeling a little dumb. Trying to be funny is an odd thing. You feel brilliant when everyone laughs and like an idiot when it falls flat. “Sorry Hannah, please proceed.”

            “No problem, Seven,” she smiled. “What I meant by worse, was obviously not having a sibling to share and comfort with the anxiety of moving to new places and in particular new schools. What was better was learning to find comfort and solace in God. A friend that sticks closer than a brother, if you please (Proverbs 18:24).

            “When I was twelve, in anticipation of yet another move, I prayed like never before,” Hannah told us with such earnestness I perceived she was back in the moment, experiencing the emotions she felt back then. “The thing that made it extra worse this time was adolescence. It wasn’t very kind to me. I was gangly and clumsy. I had braces, glasses, and a bit of acne.

            “Whenever we moved, my parents tried to find a conservative, non-denominational church.  My dad got stationed in Georgia, and we moved into a small town ten miles from the base. He rented a house from a guy who in turn turned him on to his church, a place called Meadowvale Church of the Open Bible. That’s where I met Luke and his brother Matt for the first time.

            “I actually had a huge crush on Matt when we first started attending,” Hannah laughed. “He was fifteen, spiky blonde hair, blue eyes, and an amazing guitar and piano player. He gave lessons at the local music store.

            “Although younger, my age actually, Luke was out going and athletic. I guess you could say he was a more macho image of his older brother. They were both nice to me, but Luke intimidated me. My first impression was that he was the popular type. The type that often would tease and bully me.”

            A look of sadness came into her eyes. “I never understood why so many popular kids pick on the less fortunate. They seemingly had so much going for them, why did they have to make life more difficult for those that didn’t? I suppose it just proved that in reality they didn’t have so much going for them after all. It’s like their image was a facade and at heart they were every bit as insecure as those they picked on. Probably more so.”

            “Immaturity plays a role also,” Luke added.

            “We moved to Meadowvale in the middle of the summer,” Hannah continued. “So I had a few weeks to adjust before the start of sixth grade. And the adjustment was an answer to prayer. There were a couple other kids at the church that were our age. Luke and Matt’s cousin John and a spicey redhead named Cassidy. John’s brother Mark was Matt’s age, and the four cousins ended up forming a band together.

            “For the first time I started a new school with friends. Then I had an immediate hiccup. Two days into school, we were playing dodgeball in gym class. It was scary for me. Other schools didn’t play dodgeball, let alone using actual playground balls instead of nerfs.”

            “One of the benefits of a smaller community,” Luke interjected.

            “Some benefit,” Hannah added dryly. “Right off the bat I got hit in the forehead. My glasses went flying, and I stumbled and fell. But the worst part was the panic of embarrassment. I was sure I was gonna be laughed at. Also, if I wasn’t already classified a nerd, I would be now.

            “But I only heard a few snickers before Luke was by my side, putting an arm around me and asking if I was alright. He helped me up and retrieved my glasses. Unfortunately I wasn’t out, the boy who threw head high was. But then Luke told me to stay by him so he could protect me.”

            Hannah smiled fondly at Luke. “So, I wasn’t out, and my crush on Matt Daniels transferred to falling in love with Luke Daniels. And that love only grew as he and I, John and Cassidy became weekend pals, playing in the woods behind the church, going for horseback rides on the Daniels’ family farm, and my favorite, getting rides on Luke’s dirt bike motorcycle, where I got to hug Luke from behind, and hold him tight as we zipped up trails and down ravines.

            “But then two years after we moved to Meadowvale, my dad got transferred to Fort Hood Texas. I had never been so disappointed in life. Those two years in Meadowvale were the best years by far, until I met Luke again seven years later.”

            “You two didn’t keep in touch?” I asked before Zella could.

            “I tried,” Hannah said, giving her husband a scornful, yet playful look. “But Luke only responded a few times and I eventually gave up.”

            “What can I say, I was fourteen,” Luke shrugged. “But I gave her a sendoff that kept us subconsciously bound for all our years of separation.”

            I opened my mouth, but sound came out of my wife’s instead. “What kind of sendoff?”

            “They had a going away party at the church,” Hannah related happily. “Luke took me out to the woods and kissed me for the first time.”

            “Then a second, third, and fourth,” he laughed.

            “Those kisses sealed the deal for me,” Hannah said. “My time in Meadowvale must have given me confidence. The rest of my school career finished with very little harassment. I ended up going to a college in the Pacific northwest. I was a late bloomer and by then I was getting quite a bit of male attention, of which I mostly ignored.”

            “Because of Luke?” Zella interjected.

            “I think it was a couple things,” Hannah explained. “Mostly nobody ever came close to matching the popular preteen that wasn’t afraid to comfort a distraught nerdy girl after she was embarrassed. But then also, I became cynical. I mean, so many guys mocked and made fun of me as a girl. But then after I transformed into a, forgive me for sounding vain, an attractive woman, the same type of guys tried to charm and sweet talk me.

            “Anyway, let me get to meeting Luke again. The seven years in between are not all that fascinating. I studied a lot and socialized a little. But I did become good friends with a girl I met in Texas, where I finished high school. She went to a Christian college in Washington, so I tagged along.

            “We became friends with some other girls we met, but I usually stayed aloof from going out. They were good girls as far as that goes, but their primary interest was doing things where the opportunity to meet the opposite sex was prevalent.

            “So during our junior year this Christian rock tour was stopping by our campus. Mick’s band Cornerstone was going to be there, and so was Luke’s. I just didn’t know it at first. I didn’t even know Luke was in a band with his brother and two cousins. So when my girlfriends tried to get me to go, I initially declined.

            “Then three days before the show, I’m walking past my roommate’s dresser, and she has half a dozen C.D.’s sprawled out on top. One of them caught my eye. It was called ‘The Band of Daniels.’ And on the front were four guys who looked older but familiar.”

            “Obviously the name of our band was both a play of our name, combined with the book in the Bible,” Luke cut in. “And obviously we knew the famous stories. Daniel and the lion’s den, and Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace. But I didn’t understand the deep prophetic meeting of the book until we met Arlo Aldo several years ago.”

            Then he looked at his wife. “Sorry Hon, go ahead.”

            “Rhonda, my best friend from Texas and college roommate didn’t know that one of the C.D.’s she had was the guys I knew in Georgia. One in particular the boy I loved. The guy she had heard me talk about countless times as I reminisced about my glorious days in Meadowvale.

            “But I kept my mouth shut about knowing them, in particular Luke. I was a fourteen year old middle school student when I moved away. I was now a twenty-one year old premed student living clear across the country. I was sure I was no more than a distant memory.”

            “She couldn’t have been more wrong,” Luke said. “I mean, I did think I’d never see her again. But a distant memory? Far from it. She left an impression on my soul that would last a life time. I often felt no girl could fill the void she left in my life when she left. But I believe it was the Holy Spirt that caused her to brand my mind until we met up again. I think that’s why I was so picky when entertaining the possibility of the opposite sex.

            “Hannah’s sweetness and wholesomeness drew me in like a bear to honey. Plus she had the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen, and very kissable lips. The rest of her was just like she said ‘nerdy beyond compare.’”

            Hannah gave him a playful whap, and they both laughed.

            “You’ve heard of guilt by association?” Hannah asked.

            “Sure I have, “Zella replied. “I’ve experienced it time and again by being married to Seven.”

            They all laughed, but I held mine in so I could give my wife quality stink eye. She mouthed ‘sorry’ and I couldn’t help giving in to the smile I repressed.

            “Anyway, knowing the Daniels’ from church was like credibility by association. They were like the noble four guys in the Bible book of Daniel that their band was sort of named for. They set a precedent for our school. Bullying was pretty much nonexistent.”

            “Keep in mind it was a small school,” Luke said. “Only about forty in our graduating class.”

            “So we were standing outside in line for the concert,” Hannah continued. “I was feeling anxious about seeing Luke as well as my secret. Then I saw a fellow nerd from my Meadowvale days come out of a trailer pulling a black crate that had Matt Daniel’s name stamped in white. So I hollered, ‘Grant.’

            “He turned his head briefly, but assumed he wasn’t the Grant being called for by a female in line. After all he was two thousand miles away from Meadowvale. So I tried again using his last name, ‘Grant Sims.’

            “Then he stopped and looked my direction. I waved. He was, I don’t know, fifty feet away. He began to walk toward me and stopped ten feet away, squinted and put hands on his hips. ‘Hannah? Is that you?’

            “One and them same, I told him with a big smile. He took of his baseball cap and laughed. ‘Well, I’ll be.’ I went to him and we hugged. He reminded me of chubby Chet Morton from the old ‘Hard Boys’ series.

            He told us the guys were about to start sound check, and asked me and my girlfriends if we wanted back stage passes and to come watch. All three of my girlfriends stood with their mouths hanging open in disbelief.

            “Let me take Matt his extra guitars and I’ll get y’all back stage passes.”

            “My girlfriends looked at me like I had two heads. So I shrugged and explained that I knew the band when I was in middle school. None of them were ever prone to violence, but Rhonda grabbed me by the shoulders and scolded me for not telling them I knew the guys in ‘The Band of Daniels.’

            “It was general admission, so we got the best seats in the house. The band was in the midst of a song that would end up on their second CD. When they finished, I noticed Grant walk on stage and say something to Luke. His head whipped in our direction and my heart fluttered. Then it pounded when he moved in our direction, climbed up on a riser, put hands on the railing by where we were sitting and stared at me in disbelief.

            “I smiled and waved, then he grinned and vaulted the railing. As if on cue I stood. The cute boy who kissed seven years earlier was now a gorgeous man who hugged me tight to himself. Even after all those years I felt the love. I also felt eyes on me.

            “When we separated from our embrace, my three girlfriends were watching in incredulity. Three months later ‘The Band of Daniels’ finished their tour. Three weeks after that, Luke and I were married and my three girlfriends who witnessed our reunion were my three bridesmaids.”

            “Wow,” Zella said. “So the vast majority of your courtship happened when you were in middle school.”

            “It did,” Hannah giggled, shrugged. “But when you know you know.”

            “That’s the way it was with Zella and me. When we knew we knew.”

            “Welllllll,” Zella drawled with a wince, but then she laughed when I made a pout lip.

            I opened my mouth to speak, but another voice was heard. Something beyond human utterance. Followed by thunderings and lightenings like nothing we had ever seen!

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 27

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 27

SEVEN SALLIE

THEN JESUS SAID, “FATHER FORGIVE THEM FOR THEY DO NOT KNOW WHAT THEY DO.” (Luke 23:34)

            “Jared, hi,” Lindsey said cheerfully and jumped up to greet a gentleman who had just arrived.

            “That was quite a story,” I told Mick Wadena. I had been a silent observer as my wife questioned him and his wife Lindsey about her dog playing match maker with the couple. Zella would later tease me about calling myself a silent observer. In my defense, TALK show hosts tend to talk, even when they are not on the air.

            “The miracle of Jitts bringing Lindsey and me together actually isn’t the most remarkable part of our story,” Mick told me, pointing to his wife and the guy she was now hugging.

            Lindsey and Mick had just finished telling us about their second meeting after Mick’s band finished their show in Madison, Wisconsin. That’s when a lone man made his way onto the deck that over looked C. S. Lewis’s back yard on a remote acreage, only a few miles from Lake Superior.

            The guy appeared to be about fifty, give or take, as with most of us on the deck. He had a shaved head, a sun weathered face, sunglasses, and a goatee with a light sprinkling of salt. He also was missing half of his left arm, and his left leg was a prosthetic.

            “Do you see that guy Lindsey is hugging?” Mick asked.

            Zella and I glanced at Lindsey embracing the lone man I had just described. “Yeah.”

            “That’s the guy that raped her sister.”

            “What?” Zella and I both replied, stunned. I recalled that because of her sister’s ordeal, Lana had ended up taking her own life. As a result, Lindsey developed a subtle vendetta against men. She also developed a not so subtle hatred of the man that violated her sister! So what happened that a rapist not only avoided the plagues, but was in an embrace with his victim’s sister? I asked as much to Mick.

            “Yeah, their friendship surprised me too,” Mick admitted. “Kind of ironic that he showed up when we were getting to his part of Lindsey’s and my story.”

            “Did he play a role with your, um, romance?” Zella asked with a frown.

            “Actually he turned out to be a major obstacle,” Mick explained. “I perceived early on as Lindsey and I got know each other that her hostility toward him was slowly eating her alive. After a few months of virtual dating, she…”
            “What do you mean by virtual dating?” Zella interrupted.

            “I don’t know if that’s the right way to put it,” Mick replied. “What I mean is, that after Lindsey and I initially met, I was in the middle of a nationwide tour for our second album. So most of our time spent together over the first few months was over the phone.”

            “Okay, I see,” Zella said. “How far apart did you two actually live from each other?”

            I shook my head a little at my wife. I wanted to hear about Lindsey forgiving her sister’s rapist, not geography. Later for sure, but not now. But Zella only frowned at me and continued, “I mean when you weren’t on tour, where did you call home? She mentioned being from Duluth.”

            “Milwaukee,” Mick said. “Three hundred plus miles, but it could have been worse.”

            “Why is that?” Zella asked and I shook my head some more.

            “Actually what was worse than the long distance relationship in the beginning, was our sports rivalry. Mainly she was a Vikings fan while I was for the Packers. Baseball wasn’t so bad since her team, the Twins is in the American League and mine, the Brewers, is in the National League.”

            “I notice you say was,” Zella said, and I just sighed and then chuckled to myself. I needed to exercise the patience of the saints.

            “Yeah, well, we still liked our teams, but the closer we got to Christ the less sports mattered. It turned out we actually enjoyed our teams more when we didn’t take it so seriously.”

            “Amen!” Zella smiled.

            “Now we’re on the verge,” I began, and Zella shook her head. Her wide brown eyes mocking me playfully. “We are on the verge of Christ’s return and sports seem to be a thing of the past. A shadow of our time on earth.”

            “True enough,” Mick agreed.

            “Games people more often than not took too seriously,” Zella added. “When I used to see fans in the stand with their hands earnestly clasped over a close game, I used to think ‘if they only sought the Lord with that sense of urgency.’”

            Lindsey returned, making our threesome a foursome. Mick inquired, “Where’d Jared go?”

            “He just stopped by to see how we were all doing,” Lindsey replied. “He’s on his way to check on a guy that’s from his disabled veterans group.”

            “Mick was just telling us about your long distance relationship,” Zella said.

            “And he was just about to tell us about you and Jared,” I interrupted.

            Zella smirked at me. I knew she wanted to know just as badly as I did. But she knew I struggled more with patience than she did.

            “Yeah, me and Jared,” Lindsey sighed and then looked fondly at her husband. “The subject of Jared almost ended Mick and me before we really got started.”

            “But not for the usual reason another man causes a hiccup with a couple falling in love,” Mick interjected.

            “Yeah,” Lindsey chuckled. “I guess it’s not typical for a boyfriend to tell his girlfriend to seek out another guy.”

            “Here’s the thing,” Mick said. “I tried to convince her that she didn’t have to see him in person. Just call him or even simply write him a letter. I emphatically told her that just because you forgive someone, it does not mean you have to have a relationship with them, or associate with them afterward in anyway. Forgiveness is actually more for yourself.”

            “I was so torn,” Lindsey said solemnly. “I was angry with Mick for making me feel guilty over my sister’s rapist of all people. But what saved our new relationship was he didn’t push it. He gave me time to think on it. But for two or three months, it impeded our progress in becoming close. I had heard that Jared was a wounded war veteran. But I didn’t know the extent. Do you remember me mentioning my girlfriend, Tina Janis?”

            Zella and I acknowledged that we did.

            “So her sister Taylor was a nurse in Minneapolis. All of my girlfriends knew I had a vendetta against Jared. So Taylor calls me and asks me to keep something between us because she didn’t want to get in trouble for violating any privacy policies. I couldn’t fathom what kind of conspiracy she was going to reveal. Part of me wanted to tell her ‘no thanks.’

            “Tina had been my best friend at one time, but her younger sister Taylor was a pest and a busybody. But my nosy side won out, and I told her I would keep whatever it was to myself. That’s when she told me Jared had been admitted the previous night over a suicide attempt. Her tone as she told me was one that expected me to be delighted. But I felt sick to my stomach.

            “I think I remained neutral in my response, and I did thank her,” Lindsey had a tear float from her eye, and she swiped it. “I remembered something Mick had told me about our human condition…”

            Mick gave her a few seconds to make sure she wanted him to speak. Then he said, “I told her we humans are vessels that are either controlled by Satan or God at every moment. I had quoted C. S. Lewis where he said… By the way, I mean Clive Staples Lewis, the author, not Charles Scott Lewis, our friend that lives here.

            “Anyway to quote the author, ‘There is no neutral ground in the universe. Every square inch, every split second is claimed by God and counterclaimed by Satan.’”

            “And that was forefront on my mind when Taylor told me about Jared,” Lindsey said, having composed herself for the moment. “That and his suicide attempt. I actually felt bad for him. For the first time. When I heard he had been badly wounded about a year before, back then I thought good he deserved it. But after meeting Mick, I began to read the Bible again.

            “After my sister’s demise, which I did blame Jared for, I often thought about the mental, spiritual state of victims of their own hand. I have been at some pretty dark places in my life. I’ve had countless bouts of depression. But I never got so low that I considered ending my life. So this gave me perspective. What must that immense darkness be like? I didn’t want to know. But that reality gave me empathy for even, dare I say it, for Jared.”

            Lindsey stared off into the distance. Her breathing became rapid and a couple tears leaked from her eyes. She turned to Mick. “Honey, you know the story almost as well as I do. Will you finish telling the Sallie’s? I’m getting a headache.”

            “You bet,” he replied, as Lindsey stood and walked quickly toward the house. After watching her go, he said, “Knowing it almost as well as she does is a stretch. But you have to understand. Her testimony about forgiveness is powerful. But more often than not, it zaps her emotionally. What with seeing Jared just now, it doesn’t surprise me that she wasn’t in a good place to share how her change of attitude came about.”

            “It’s understandable,” Zella said. “I noticed she watched him as he limped away.”

            Mick nodded. “So, she went to see him in the hospital. She wasn’t sure if she could muster the compassion she needed to forgive him. As she made her way through the hospital, she prayed and quoted scripture to herself. Still she had a supreme battle with self and the hostility she felt. Then she saw him.

            “He wasn’t the handsome all-American teenager she remembered. Although on the later side of his mid-twenties, he looked war weary and twenty years older than his actual age. He wasn’t long out of high school when 9/11 happened. He joined the Marines and served in both Afghanistan and Iraq. Three tours of duty in all, and on the last one he had a devastating encounter with a road side bomb.

            “He was drugged and a bit delirious when she saw him. When he saw Lindsey, he called her Lana and began crying and apologizing. He said he loved her and thought she loved him. She let him blubber for quite a while, then he fell asleep. She left him a note saying she was Lindsey and that she forgave him.

            “She left the hospital feeling both lighter for having gone through with it, yet sick at how broken such a young human being was. She hoped that was the end of it. But she didn’t realize during the stress of the meeting that she had written her phone number on the note she gave him.

            “He called her a few weeks later. They met for coffee and spent a long time talking. Lindsey saw how remorseful he was about Lana’s fragility and the role he played in her demise. He said he felt like a pervert due to his sin. He wanted to do something noble by joining the Marines. This aspect played as big of a role as patriotism had in his motivation to join.

            “Something else occurred to her that she had always purposely overlooked. Although no means no, no matter what! The young, immature couple had been participating in foreplay for a lengthy period of time. Then on the verge of consummation, Lana wanted to stop. As wrong as his actions were, it didn’t seem the same as if he had drugged her or was some guy that yanked her off the street and into some bushes.

            “The thing is, Jared didn’t truly feel forgiven by just reading the note Lindsey left in the hospital. Lindsey’s nurse friend told her that when Jared woke up in the hospital and discovered he was still alive, he was out of control angry. That’s why he was sedated when Lindsey visited him.

            “Lindsey found out later that when Jared called her, he had a phone in one hand and a gun in the other. Like Lana, he had been sort of considering others when he had taken an overdose of pills, only to have his stomach pumped. Also like Lana, he was gonna make sure with round two, regardless of the gory mess. He had made up his mind on a direction. If Lindsey agreed to get together, he would postpone his death so he could apologize in person. If she  wouldn’t see him in person, he was prepared to say a permanent goodnight to the world.”

            “So what changed Lindsey’s attitude that actually made her and Jared friends?” I asked. “I mean it seems one of the main things you said to convince her to forgive, was that forgiveness didn’t mean a relationship.”

            “When I noticed she was having regular contact with Jared, I asked her why. She said Jared asked about her faith, because he was surprised at the love she was showing him. He ended up giving his life to Christ, rather than ending it. She said she saw that he was a new creature (2 Corinthians 5:17). He wasn’t the same person that date raped her sister. Behold, all things were new. ”

            “Amazing grace!” Zella said.

            “Amen, Sister Wife!” I added, and Mick arched an eyebrow.

            “Sister Wife, I like that,” he grinned. Then he added with a look of awe on his countenance. “She also shared another C. S. Lewis quote that moved him like nothing else. Especially coming from Lana’s sister. ‘You can’t go back and change the beginning. But you can start where you are and change the ending.’”

            “I love that,” Zella said.

            “It just goes to show you the ripple effect of good and evil,” Mick continued. “Because of how Lindsey forgave and then ministered to this one soul, he in turn has ministered to countless other fellow veterans.”

            “And all that hung in the balance with that one call,” I said. “A phone in one hand and a gun in the other. We often don’t realize how often life is only a matter of inches.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 26

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 26

ZELLA LaSTELLA-SALLIE

CAN YOU SEARCH OUT THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD? CAN YOU FIND OUT THE LIMITS OF THE ALMIGHTY? (Job 11:7)

            “Back up,” I petitioned Mick. “Didn’t that scare the daylights out of you to suddenly see a dog rushing toward you when you lifted your head?”

            “Sure it did,” he shrugged. “But it all happened so fast. Kind of like a close call in traffic. But after the first couple seconds, I could tell Jitts wasn’t mean.”

            Mick had just expressed reeling emotions after he had been praying in a remote area of some woods. He specifically had been praying for a Godly companion who could possibly be his future wife. As he was concluding his prayer, he was startled at movement to his right. It was a dog of German Shepard decent galloping toward him.

            “Self-preservation instinct produced a healthy shot of adrenaline through my system,” he continued. “But as I began to take a protective position, the canine slowed and I noticed the tail vigorously swaying back and forth. Also, rather than barking or growling Jitts was whining excitedly. He also seemed to be smiling.

            “So instead of exercising fight or flight, I greeted the fury creature. I accepted an invitation to pet and scratch the animal as he lay in front of me and exposed his belly. I remember his right front paw dangled to allow room for my hand to perform ministrations of doggie delight. Then all of a sudden this stunning vixen came charging up the trail hollering ‘Jitt’s!’

            “She stopped in her tracks, wide eyed and mouth gaping when she saw her dog and me. Her face looked like Bigfoot had just stepped out onto the trail in front of her. Her red-gold hair was pulled back tight against her scalp into a ponytail. I took in her black spandex which seemed to be painted on. So I averted my eyes back to the dog and frowned. My mind asked, “Is this an answer to what I had just been praying about?”

            “Time out,” Lindsey said. “Painted on? They were running shorts with top. Standard attire for women who run.”

            “And standard intrigue for guys who lust.”

             “Sounds like a guy problem.”

            “I suppose it depends on the guy as to whether it’s a problem or not. Anyway, I disciplined my eyes to stay above her neck and…

            “Gimme a break,” Lindsey interrupted again with a roll of her eyes.

            “Break me off a piece of that Kit Kat bar,” Mick sang.

            Lindsey and I laughed. Then she ordered, “Just tell the story. But I will make corrections if needed.”

            “Fair enough, so our dialogue went something like this. I said, “Hi.”

            “Hi,” she replied quickly, spitting out the greeting as if it tasted bad in her mouth.

            “I seem to have met your dog,” I said.

            “So I see,” she replied, crossing her arms abruptly and scowling, as if I had called Jitts away from her. But I thought she had called him Jet and said as much.

            “Oh, no, it’s Jitts. Actually Jitterbug. I call him Jitts for short,” she replied, losing her stern demeanor.

            “Jitterbug? That’s an interesting name.”

            “He’s a rescue dog,” she explained. “He shook uncontrollably when I first got him and, I don’t know, I just started calling him Jitterbug, then Jitts.”

            “I see.”

            “Were you praying?” she asked, almost like an accusation.

            “It was not like an accusation,” Lindsey added.

            “I acknowledged I was and she asked, ‘do you pray often?’”

            “Every day, multiple times a day. Do you pray?”

            “Not so much lately,” she confessed, taking a few steps toward me. Those painted on shorts were at head level and only three feet away, so I stood abruptly, my carnal nature protesting and Jitts hopped up with me and went next to his master. She unconsciously put a hand to her dog’s head. “By the way, I’m terribly sorry.”

            “For what?” I asked innocently.

            She laughed. “For my dog charging at you like a lunatic.”

            “Oh, that’s okay. I could tell right away he was friendly.”

            “I let him off his leash because he has never gone after anyone until now.”

            “Well, it’s an honor to be his first.”

            “Did Jitts ever chase after anyone again?” I interrupted.

            “No, but I was more careful going forward,” Lindsey explained and then looked at her husband as if for permission to take over telling the story. He gave a go ahead nod and she continued. “But I think Jitts running up to Mick was, this may sound silly, but I believe it was supernaturally inspired.”

            “That’s not silly,” I reassured. “Mick prayed and God answered using a dog.”

            “Happens every day,” Mick joked.

            “The thing is,” Lindsey said with a look of awe and reverence on her countenance. “If God hadn’t used Jitts to bring Mick and me together, I would never have known Mick wasn’t, what’s the word I’m looking for?”

            “A psychopath?” Mick interjected with an arched eyebrow.

            “No, silly,” she said, slapping his knee. “I would have never known you were worthy.”

            “And Jitts’ adoration of you let me know that you were worthy,” Mick added.

            “Fair enough,” Lindsey said with a satisfied smile. But then she scowled. “Even if I was wearing painted on clothes.”

            “I wasn’t implying you didn’t look good in them. As a matter of fact, after we married there was nothing I liked more than seeing you scantily clad.”

            “Scantily clad? I…”

            “So what happened next?” I interrupted, hoping to direct them away from their differing perspectives on attire.

            “Perceiving that he was a deeply spiritual man, thanks to Jitts,” Lindsey said. “I began to ask him about his faith and then admitted that I was struggling with mine. Which was an understatement. Then he shared the ‘He that began a good work in you’ verse (Philippians 1:6). I felt compelled to tell him about my sister, but I was torn. Part of me wanted to flee, frightened of my attraction, and another part of me would have married him on the spot.”

            “All because Jitts took to him, you would have married him on the spot?” I asked with a playful smile.

            “I do exaggerate a little, but Jitts was the biggest part of my feeling drawn to him to be sure,” she admitted. “But he also was very attractive. And I don’t mean just physically. It was like there was a light in his eyes, and a gentleness in his demeanor, but also a strength in his character.”

            Lindsey looked at her husband, so I did as well. He looked a little embarrassed. I probably didn’t help by asking, “So what about you, big fella? Would you have married her on the spot?”

            “No,” he blurted, and they both started laughing, so I joined their mirth. Then he explained. “I say no only because my head was spinning. I mean think about it. I pray for a potential wife and, forgive me if this is an improper term, a goddess just shows up in a remote part of a forest the very moment I had been praying for something of that ilk.”

            “Then my friend unintentionally ruined the fairy tale,” Lindsey said and smiled wanly. Then she shrugged. “She was actually trying to help pair me up with Mick, but in the moment of my fickle emotions, I took it as a sign to flee from him.”

            “It was an odd couple days for both of us,” Mick interjected. “She had talked about her floundering faith during our brief conversation. So it never occurred to me that she would show up at a Christian concert an hour away from where we had met the previous day.”

            “There were four bands in total,” Lindsey took over. “But Mick’s band was the special guest of the headliner. Because my friend had an in with the headliner, we had excellent first balcony seats. There were, I don’t know, four or five thousand at the show. So it wasn’t like the Stones or Taylor Swift, but still a lot of people. And we were so close, I could have spit on a band member when they came to the left side of their stage.”

            “And that’s how we met a second time,” Mick said. “She spit on me.”

            He said this with such a straight face, I frowned and said, “Really?”

            “No,” Lindsey replied as they both laughed.

            “Obviously you two re-met at the show, so how did that come about?” I asked.

            “The first two bands just seemed loud to me,” Lindsey said. “I was more soft rock or country. Thankfully they only played twenty or thirty minutes. When they were almost done setting up for Cornerstone, which was Mick’s band, a girlfriend leans in and says, “These next guys will be a lot better and play for about an hour.”

            “An hour! I thought. I began to analyze my options. The best thing I could come with is saying I didn’t feel well and have my aunt come get me. We were crashing at her place that night anyway. I was just about to tell my girlfriends that I was gonna leave. But the lights went down and a roar went up. The crowds reaction was way more enthusiastic than for the previous two bands. So I figured I would give them a chance.

            “When the band seemed to explode onto the stage, I was beyond surprised when the lead singer looked familiar. It was the guy Jitts charged in the woods! Tina Janis, the girlfriend that was with me in the woods, leaned forward and looked at me with pure astonishment. Both of our mouths hung open. You could have pushed me over with a feather.

            “There was another girlfriend, Heather Johnson, in between us, and she looked back and forth at us with a puzzled expression. She was also annoyed because we were interfering with her observance of the performance. Then Tina said something into her ear and Heather looked at me with a frown and mouthed, “Really?”

            “I shrugged and then kept my eyes glued on Mick for most of their set. Their music was heavier than I prefer at first. But then it turned out that they had some mellower songs that I really, really liked. One song in particular had me as stunned as when I first saw Mick come onto the stage. The song spoke to me about coming back to God and having a closer walk with Jesus.

            “I had heard the song numerous times when I tuned into Christian radio. The song both drew me in, but sometimes frustrated me, depending on my mood. Sometimes I would listen to it and weep, longing for my broken relationship with Jesus to heal. It made me long for the peace I felt as a little girl as we left church. But another side would make me feel so guilty for my spiritual neglect and rebellion. Yet I never turned it off.

            “Now, here I was listening to it live. The singer only about thirty feet away. The singer was the dream guy I had met the previous day. The singer was the only guy, only person actually, that Jitts ever had charged up to happily.

            “I was wearing a baseball cap with my ponytail laced through the back. I pulled it down low so my friends couldn’t see my watery eyes. Because we were so close I was also afraid Mick would recognize me. Ironic since I had went looking for him the previous day.

            “But what was I gonna do with somebody who was something like a rock star, albeit a Christian one? Plus, I was pretty sure he wasn’t from the Duluth area. Shoot, I wasn’t even sure if the attraction was mutual. All I knew was that I was infatuated with him. He probably thought I was a careless, irresponsible fool who just let her unruly dog run wild.”

            “The truth was,” Mick took over. “The attraction was indeed mutual. But I had moved on already and had her out of my mind by morning. I fancied myself a realist. God doesn’t always answer prayers instantly. By her showing up like that, dressed with not much to leave to the imagination, and espousing lack of faith. Well, I figured Satan might just be trying to trick me. You know like the warning from Proverbs about avoiding the immoral woman.”

            “Thanks a lot!” Lindsey responded, giving him a light slug on his upper arm.

            “So if you tried to hide by pulling your hat low,” I asked. “What happened that you ended up meeting again?”

            “Because Heather’s cousin was H. R. Puffin, the headliner, we had acquired back stage passes,” Lindsey said. “But it turned out to be a little frustrating. I didn’t see Mick or any of his band mates anywhere. Then Puffin himself flirted with me.”

            Lindsey shook her head, laughed and covered her face with a hand.

            “What’s so funny?” I asked, grinning.

            “She hurt Puffin’s ego,” Mick said matter of fact.

            “Even though he was supposed to be a Christian, he apparently was used to women admiring him, not asking him about another one of the lesser stars,” Lindsey explained.

            “You asked him where Mick was?” I asked.

            “I did. Right after he asked if I would like to go somewhere private and talk.”

            “Did he help you?”

            “I’ve got to hand it to him, he did. Although begrudgingly. He said Cornerstone were still out in the arena at their merch table, signing autographs and talking to fans.”

            “What’s a merch table?” I asked, being unfamiliar with concerts.

            “Merch is short for merchandize,” Mick answered. “It’s an area where bands sell shirts, posters, stickers, C.D.’s, and such.”

            “Puffin made a point of telling me he didn’t go to his merch table because he would be there for hours. Anyway, I went back out into the arena. I saw there were still a couple dozen people in line to meet the band. I bought one of their C.D.’s and joined the end of the line to get it signed.

            “I noticed they asked the name of the person they were signing an autograph for. So then they would write ‘To so and so’ before they signed their name…”

            Lindsey started laughing, so Mick finished. “She says to me, my dog is a big fan of yours, could you make this out to Jitts?”

            “I looked up at her in utter astonishment as she took her hat off and grinned at me… You could have knocked me over with a feather!”

(Writer’s note: My stories have sometimes been motivated by music, and I’ve always wanted to implement songs into a story. So I’m doing a little experiment if you are interested in playing along. Not doing so will in no way take away from the story itself.

            So here’s a little supplement to today’s edition. The song I had in mind that moved Lindsey during Mick’s show was a song by the band ‘Kutless’ called ‘Run.’ If you listen to Christian radio, you might recognize it. It was especially played several years ago. It can be easily found on YouTube.)

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 25

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 25

ZELLA LaSTELLA-SALLIE

THE END OF A THING IS BETTER THAN ITS BEGINNING. THE PATIENT IN SPIRIT IS BETTER THAN THE PROUD IN SPIRIT. (Ecclesiastes 7:8)

            As several of us sat on the deck, Lindsey Wadena had just shown me a picture on her phone of the very meeting between her and her husband. She had said a dog had played match maker between them. I had witnessed something similar myself with Willa Waconia and Billy Bob Booker. The parallel between Lindsey and Mick’s romantic account and the one I witnessed several years ago had my curiosity at a peek.

            A friend of Lindsey’s had taken the photo when she witnessed her asexual gal pal chatting it up with a bare chested young stud. Standing beside her, gazing fondly up at Mick was a German Shepard mix. His name was Jitterbug.

            “He was such a scared little boy when I first got him,” Lindsey explained. “He was only about six months old and would just start trembling for no apparent reason. A friend of mine rescued him from a horrible situation. He was undernourished and had been abused. My friend already had five dogs, so I took him in.

            “He was called Nacho when I first got him. But as I spoke softly to him and nurtured him, I would say ‘aren’t you just a little jitterbug.’ I didn’t really care for the name Nacho; it just didn’t seem to fit him. Then a girlfriend suggested I call him Jitterbug, and then I started calling him Jitts for short.

            “It didn’t take too long for his trembling to go away. But I began to notice a pattern with him. Every time a guy came around he would hide and start trembling again. This didn’t happen very often. I didn’t have a boyfriend and I seldom dated. So it was usually my dad or my brother.”

            As a woman of around fifty, Lindsey was certainly nice looking. But the photo she showed me in her mid-twenties revealed an absolute knock out. She also looked like she stepped out of a fitness magazine in her spandex shorts and sports bra. So I had to ask, “So, you just weren’t interested in romance?”

            “Yes and no,” she replied. Then her large almond shaped eyes looked sad. “I had my own tragedy when I was a teenager. Maybe that’s why Jitts and I bonded so well.”

            “Were you abused?” I asked softly, cautiously.

            She shook her head and I noticed her jaw tighten. “When I was thirteen and my sister Lana was sixteen, she was date raped.”

            “Oh no!” I couldn’t help blurting.

            She bowed her head and nodded. “It was horrible. What made it worse was I had such a major crush on her boyfriend.”

            There was an awkward silence for a long moment. Selfishly I felt disappointed. For I was desiring a heartwarming story similar to the one I experienced with my dog Free, not an ugly recount of an innocent girl defiled by unbridled lust.

            “Three months after the ordeal,” Lindsey continued. “Lana swallowed all of her antidepressant medications and some sleeping pills. Her stomach was pumped and she spent a few weeks in a psychiatric unit of a hospital. The very day she was released, she slit her wrists in the bath tub. This time she didn’t survive.”

            “I’m so, so sorry,” I told her. She nodded and as she wiped at a tear. It struck me that even after all these years, the pain of her sister’s torment and death lurked just beneath the surface of her soul. How many such people have we encountered, unaware of the pain they keep hidden. It was a lesson for me about being kind to everyone we meet, despite any sour dispositions they may have.

            “I’m sorry as well, for that depressing little antidote,” Lindsey said, forcing a smile. “But I guess I needed to tell the back story of Jitts and me, and how he ended up unwittingly setting me up with Mick.”

            Lindsey showed me another picture. This one was of a teenage girl and a dog that looked similar to Jitts. The teenage girl also looked similar to Lindsey. But she wasn’t the striking beauty Lindsey was in the first photo she showed me of her, Mick and Jitts. Lana looked wholesome in a long dress with her hair pulled back, grinning from ear to ear with a crooked tooth smile.

            “I love her big grin in this pic,” Lindsey said with a sentimental smile. “Lana was bi-polar. She was also painfully shy and timid, yet sometimes she could be volatile and angry. But Yoda brought her out of her shell like no one else could.”

            “Yoda?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

            “Our brother was a huge Star Wars fan,” she laughed. “When he suggested Yoda, Lana thought it was a good fit. You can see there was another reason I fell in love with Jitts.”

            “Yeah, they look like they came from the same litter,” I commented.

            “Anyway, I was leery of guys, I guess because of what happened to Lana. Jitts didn’t like guys and was afraid of them. So I developed a personal rule. If Jitts didn’t like a guy and hid, I wouldn’t continue to go out with him. This rule proved to be somewhat unreasonable. I didn’t realize Jitts would cower from virtually every guy he came across. The only guy that won him over was my brother, and he is not the macho type at all.

            “So when I met Mick, I was twenty-two. I’d had Jitts for about four years and had zero love life. Come to think of it, maybe Jitts wanted me all to himself,” she laughed. “Until he invited Mick into my life that is.”

            Mick must have been overhearing our conversation because he interjected. “I don’t know about that. Every time we sat next to each other, he nosed in between us.”

            “Yeah, but then what happened a few months in?” Lindsey replied with a disapproving, yet light hearted gaze.

            “Whatever do you mean?” Mick responded innocently.

            She chuckled and looked at me. “I mean that a few months in, Jitts turned his primary affections onto Mick. He followed him wherever he went. He stopped nosing between us and just crawled onto Mick’s lap.”

            “The big lug,” Mick laughed. “Seventy five pounds isn’t exactly a lap dog.”

            “So how did Jitts play match maker?” I asked eagerly.

            “A friend of mine had this cousin that was a pretty famous Christian rock rapper. His stage name is H. R. Puffin.”

            “I’ve heard of him,” I interjected.

            “So she, me and two other girlfriends were going to his show in Madison, Wisconsin. Mick’s band turned out to be Puffin’s special guest on the tour. My friends and I all lived in Duluth at the time. I wasn’t into the concert at all. I didn’t know or necessarily like Puffin’s music or big crowds. But we were gonna camp at Devil’s Head the day before, and rock climb and hike. Nature was what I was really into! Plus I had an aunt that lived near Madison, and she was willing to watch Jitts while we went to the show. So I agreed to go on the trip.

            “So we were at Devil’s Head the day before the show. One of my girlfriends and I went for a run and Jitts came with us. We had just run some hills and was walking to catch our breath.  Then Jitts just up and runs off like a flash.

            “There was a shirtless guy kneeling in front of a log. His elbows were on top of the log and doubled fists were on his forehead. It seemed he was praying. It also seemed that Jitts was charging toward him. Jitts never approached anyone, male or female. But like I said, especially male. That’s why I was comfortable not having him on a leash.

            “I felt a surge of panic! This was so out of character for Jitts. I chased after him and called. But he kept going. I thought for sure he was gonna lunge with bared teeth. I called and called. The man, who turned out to be Mick, raised his head and looked with surprise at my charging dog.

            “But then Jitts slowed and I could not believe what I saw. His tail was wagging as hard as I had ever seen it. Then Jitts surprised me even further. He prostrated himself at Mick’s feet. Well, actually his knees.

            “So I come running up ready to pull my suddenly vicious dog off of the man. But Jitts was squirming and whining excitedly, his tail thumping on the ground. Mick was grinning and petting him and telling him what a good boy he was. I must have stared for the longest time, unable to comprehend what I was witnessing.”

            “It wasn’t even a minute,” Mick interjected with a chuckle. “But it turned out to be an answer to prayer, I just didn’t know it at the time.”

            “He had been praying for me,” Lindsey said happily.

            “But you didn’t even know her, right?” I asked with a frown.

            “I didn’t, and even after our encounter that day, I didn’t know who I was praying for.”

            “You’re losing me,” I replied with a questioning smile.

            Mick chuckled. “Let me back up. There were four of us in the band called Cornerstone. We all grew up together, went to Christian school together. We were all the real deal. By that I mean devout and serious about our faith. The four of us were tight and made a pact of celibacy until married. So two of us married high school sweethearts the year after we graduated.

            “The week before I met Lindsey, our guitar player, Matt, got married. We were all only in our early twenties, yet I was now the only unmarried one in the band. I wasn’t jealous, yet I really wanted to find a mate more than ever. Being in the position I was, especially as lead singer, I had scores of female admirers. But just like Lindsey had her reasons for being leery of guys, I was leery of gals that were smitten because I was in a popular band.

            “I mean, we weren’t a household name by any stretch. But on the Christian rock scene, we were becoming a pretty big deal. And as our fame spread, it seemed it was going to be harder and harder to meet that special someone, as strange as that may sound. It was ironic since I met countless attractive females at every show. But yet I had it in my head that a woman I met at a Cornerstone show was only interested in Mick the singer, not the person.”

            “But then Mick and I met a second time at his show the next night,” Lindsey laughed. “So he ended up marrying a woman he met at one of his shows after all.”

            “Not fair, we met in the woods, and Jitts introduced us.”

            “True enough, but we did go our separate ways in a matter of minutes, figuring we’d never see each other again.”

            “So out in the woods where you met, how long was your dialogue and what did you say to each other?” I asked.

            “First I said I was sorry about Jitts charging up to him,” Lindsey laughed.

            “Then she asked me if I had been praying and I acknowledged that I had.”

            “Then we just stared at each other for a long time.”

            “It was probably only twenty or thirty seconds,” Mick laughed.

            “It’s hard to tell because it sure felt like several minutes.”

            “But we were both dumbfounded. Me because I had just been praying that God would help me find a soulmate. And she because Jitts rarely took to guys.”

            “Try never,” Lindsey corrected.

            “What about your brother?”

            “He had to win him over after a few encounters. Until you, he never took to a guy right off the bat. Anyway, we started talking about spiritual things. I felt compelled to tell him about my struggles with faith, my rebellion toward God.

            “I remember he shared the verse ‘he that has begun a good work in you will complete it’ (Philippians 1:6). I had such a strange tug of war going on inside of me. I had never been so drawn to a guy in my life! Yet I had so conditioned myself toward asexuality, that this other part of my brain was screaming, get away from him!”

            “And you did,” Mick laughed.

            Lindsey looked at Mick and then back at me. “My girlfriend, God bless her, was trying to assist Jitts in setting me up with Mick. After he and I had been talking for five or ten minutes, she sidled up next to me and said she was going back to our camper and that I should take my time. But I used her interruption as both a sign and an excuse to get away from the hot guy.”

            “She meant temperature by hot,” Mick said. “It was about ninety degrees and humid.”

            “I wasn’t talking temperature at all,” she responded with a coy smile. “He looked good with no shirt. But on the other hand, I was a little put off that he didn’t put his shirt on as we talked.”

            “But I didn’t have one with me,” Mick defended. “It was back at my campsite.”

            “I may have gotten away from him as fast as I could,” Lindsey continued. “But I could not get him out of my mind. Who was he? I didn’t even get his name. Where did he live? What was it about him that drew Jitts to him? How could that even be?

            “As I took a shower back at the camper, I almost fell down kicking myself in the behind. What was I thinking blowing off the closest thing to a perfect man I ever had encountered! I dried off and went looking for him, got super sweaty in the process, which negated the shower I had taken. But it was to no avail, I didn’t see him. I was so disappointed.”

            “I too was disappointed,” Mick added. “I had literally just prayed that God would put the woman of HIS choice into my life. Then this happy dog nudges me out of my reverence. I says to the dog, ‘well hi fella, but you’re not what I had in mind when I was praying.’ Then I look up and see Lindsey running toward us, calling Jitts. Then I said to him, ‘but she just might be!’

            “But then after several minutes talking with her, she bolted like she was just called to put out a fire. I kept an eye out for her the rest of the day, but to no avail. I was so disappointed to be teased like that. I tried not to have a complaining attitude, but I prayed again, simply asking, ‘Lord why put that intriguing woman in front of me, only to have her walk away?’

            “After praying I grabbed my Bible. I like to randomly open it and see what my eyes hit on first that I had previously underlined. That night my eyes landed on Psalm 27:14. ‘Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart. Wait, I say, on the Lord!’

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 24

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 24

SEVEN SALLIE

GOD IS OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH, A VERY PRESENT HELP IN TROUBLE. THEREFORE WE WILL NOT FEAR THOUGH THE EARTH BE REMOVED. (Psalm 46:1, 2)

            The sunset was bizarrely beautiful. I’d never seen anything like it. It was both breath taking, yet ominous. Who would have thought a sunset could pose such a contradiction in our minds. It was like a living object lesson of Psalm 85:10. ‘Mercy and truth have met together. Righteousness and peace have met together.’

            Brilliant reds, greens, yellows, pinks, blues, and violets swirled together. Have you ever noticed how fast a colorful sunset can change into darkness? Well this sunset changed and morphed colors five times faster than usual. Yet darkness came five times slower than usual. And the color schemes just kept changing and moving.

             The fourth plague fell the previous day. Unrepentant humanity was scorched with great heat (Revelation 16:8, 9). Yet those of us who had the seal of God were protected. It was as if we were encased in an unseen bubble. The cells of God’s people scattered throughout the world experienced the same protection. Our friends and family back in Eastern Iowa were experiencing a similar shield that we were. I was so grateful to hear my daughter’s voice as she related this information to me.

            We had all had a restless night as the judgements of God continued to fall. Not that we feared for ourselves, for we loved Jesus (John 14:15) and had kept the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus (Revelation 14:12). We were concerned for the unprotected. We mourned for friends and loved ones that sided with the commandments of men rather than the commandments of God.

            We took courage that the plagues indicated that the second coming of Jesus Christ was very, very soon.  The most stunning sunset our eyes had ever seen made us think of our Lord coming in the clouds of heaven. Not in some secret rapture.  

            John the Revelator tells us in the very first chapter, verse seven, that every eye will see Him. Paul tells us in 1 Thessalonians 4:16 that the Lord Himself will descend with a shout, with the voice of an arch angel, and with the trumpet of God. In Acts chapter one, when Jesus arose to heaven, verse eleven tells us that He would come in like manner.

            1 Thessalonians 4:18 tells us we should comfort one another regarding the second coming of Christ. Revelation 21:4 assures us that God would wipe away every tear and that there would be no more death, sorrow, or crying. There would be no more pain, for the former things will have passed away.

            Inga, C.S., who was formerly known as Jackson, Zella and I were sitting on C. S.‘s deck. We were comforting each other about the second coming of Christ as we watched the unique sunset. We were all excited, yet troubled by the falling of the plagues. So we were exercising the Bible instruction to exhort one another daily (Hebrews 3:13).

            It must have worked. C.S. got a boyish grin on his face as he took hold of Inga’s hand. “Come see, a quarter mile through the woods is a large pond. It wasn’t affected by the third plague. Sunsets are amazing there. This one will be absolutely phenomenal.”

            But Inga resisted and frowned. “This is the most interesting sunset I’ve ever seen; but I don’t like what it represents.”

            C. S. frowned back. “What do you mean?”

            “The reason the sunset is so unique is because the fourth plague has fallen. That means  fallen humanity has been scorched with great heat.”

            “Don’t think about that,” he petitioned. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. God is a righteous judge. Think of it as Christ’s imminent return being incredibly soon.”

            “C. S. is right, Inga,” I added. “The loud cry of the three angels messages was sufficiently broadcast. Everyone had their chance to accept or reject the God of Creation.”

            Inga pondered this for a minute. A girlish grin grew onto her face as she did so, and then they were off, walking hand in hand toward the woods. Zella smiled sentimentally as she watched them while I watched her. Her beautiful ebony skin glowed in the fast changing but slowly fading sunlight. “I think love has been rekindled.”

            “Were they in love the first time?” I asked.

            “There must have been something.”

            “Yeah, but Inga despised him for almost a decade. What we’re witnessing is new, fresh.”

            “No, I say there was something. Circumstances all those years ago just caused Inga to take a step back on her feelings.”

            “More like a leap.”

            “Life’s a strange trip,” she said with a shrug.

            I put arm around her and kissed her mouth. Aunt Holly and Benny were at the neighbors, so we were alone. I kissed her again and she giggled. “No wonder you talked Inga into going with C. S.”

            “I don’t know that I talked her into it,” I grinned. “But I was hoping for some alone time with the most beautiful woman on the planet.”

            “Aw, you’re sweet,” she said aiming a big eyed smile my way. I arose and moved to sit on her lap. She stopped me by placing both hands on my back side. “I don’t think so!”

            “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

            “Sit back down,” she ordered. Then she arose and moved to sit on my lap. Unlike her, I allowed it. To my immense pleasure, she kissed me and I mean deeply. I wrapped my arms around her and planned on much more of the same. But it wasn’t to be.

            Inga and C. S. had entered the woods that surrounded the acreage via a trail to the southwest. From the northeast side of the woods we heard the crunch of leaves, the snap of a twig and the murmur of voices. Half a dozen people began to emerge from the woods and Zella sprang from my lap as though it were on fire… Drat!

            The little band was led by Benny and his two friends, a boy and a girl. Holly was with the children’s parents. The couple appeared to be close to Zella and myself in age. They made their way to the deck and Holly introduced us to Mick and Lindsey Wadena.

            Mick was medium height, burly and had thinning blonde hair. Lindsey had short strawberry blond hair. She reminded me of Mary Poppins, but it was probably the old fashioned dress she was wearing.

             “Wow, you’re Seven Sallie,” Mick declared.

            I opened my mouth to reply, but Zella beat me to it. With an exaggeratedly deep voice she said, “Yes indeed, it is he, the venerable Seven Sallie.”

            They all laughed and I looked at my wife. She giggled. “You always look like Daffy Duck when you’re exasperated.”

            They all laughed again, and I couldn’t help chuckling along with them. Then something happened that I didn’t know how to take. Mick was commenting on the strange sunset, but I was  overhearing Lindsey discreetly whisper to Holly, “I thought you said he looks like George Clooney.”

            “I just meant sort of,” Holly whispered back.

            Was this a compliment or a dis? Oh well, I wasn’t even meant to hear it.

            “So you know Arlo Aldo?” I asked Mick.

            “I do indeed,” he replied. “Eli Alderson also.”

            Eli was Arlo’s bandmate. They were both in a Satanic band for many years, and then after their conversion they started a Christian band. Mick rehashed what C. S. had already told me about Arlo vacationing up here and teaching them about the Biblical Sabbath. Then he went on to explain about him and C. S. sharing their information with others in their neck of the woods.

            “As a matter of fact,” Mick was saying. “I think it would be a great comfort if you talked to some friends of ours, Jack and Jill Hill. They…”

            “Jack and Jill Hill?” I asked. “Hill is really their last name? As in Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pale of water?”

            “Yeah, it really is,” he laughed. “Sorry, I guess I’m just used to it after all these years. They have an interesting love story. They became close friends as kids, preteens actually. Jack went by Johnny back then. But then when he and Jill started hanging out, his friends and siblings started calling him Jack to go with her Jill. His dad was John Senior, but went by Jack, so I guess it was a bit of a combination.

            “Anyway, Jill moved away, and they didn’t see each other again for several years. Then Jill showed up at one of his shows a thousand miles from where they first got to know each other. I actually witnessed their reunion. Our bands were touring together at the time. It was a pretty special, memorable moment.”

            “Your own coming together with Lindsey was pretty special too,” Aunt Holly said.

            “Yeah, I suppose it was,” Mick replied, looking fondly at his wife.

            Lindsey seemed like a pretty serious, no nonsense type of person. But she grinned and told us. “Would you believe a dog played cupid?”

            It took me a couple seconds to absorb a dog playing match maker in a romance. However, it wasn’t something I was foreign to. Zella had a rescue dog, a chocolate Labrador named Free. She had been horribly abused. She was blind in one eye and walked with a limp, among other things.

            Free disliked and was afraid of male human beings. The bigger and more macho, the more her disdain. Then one day a big, tall, muscular man with a deep voice came into Zella’s herb and health food shop. Free was in the store that day because Zella’s living quarters upstairs was being painted.

            Although she had warned Billy Bob Booker to keep his distance from Free, the gentle bear of a man couldn’t resist the wounded animal. To Zella’s utter shock, Free couldn’t resist him either. After she witnessed her dog offer up her belly to be scratched by the big man, she had to tell her best friend Willa what happened. In turn, Willa couldn’t resist wanting to get to know Billy Bob herself.

            I looked at my wife. Her stunned expression turned to one of curiosity. “You two were match made by a dog?”

            “Yeah,” they both said at the same time, and  then chuckled.

            “Please tell us about it,” Zella petitioned eagerly. She sat back in her chair, crossed her arms, and anticipated their story.

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 23

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 23

INGA LIKAS (AKA INGA COGNITO)

IF ANYONE IS IN CHRIST, THEY ARE A NEW CREATION. OLD THINGS HAVE PASSED AWAY. BEHOLD, ALL THINGS HAVE BECOME NEW. (2 Corinthians 5:17)

            It was too wonderful to take in! I moved about in a daze. If ever reality felt like a dream, it was now. How do I even describe meeting my son, a beautiful nine year old boy that I thought had died in infancy?

            How about reuniting with a man I despised, having believed for all these years that he was responsible for our son’s death? Then I find out that the dark, nihilistic boy that impregnated me, turned out to become a serious minded Bible believing Christian. But was it possible for me to like, or even trust a guy I had subconsciously trained my brain to loathe for almost a decade?

            Jackson and his Aunt Holly invited us to spend the night in their home. The afternoon turned into evening as I got to know my son and also became reacquainted with Jackson. But I use the word reacquainted loosely. For Jackson and I were not the same people that knew each other all those years ago. Plus, our relationship had been closer to two ships passing in the night rather than anything with real substance.

            However, over the next forty-eight hours Jackson and I got to know each other better than our year together a decade earlier. Our association as teenagers was filled with insecurities and secrecy. The glue that kept us together was lust. This proved to be a rather flimsy adhesive.

The bond that pulled us together all these years later was Christ and mutual love for our son.

            As we caught up with each other, I didn’t have a whole lot to share, or even want to, until I came to the part when I met Seven Sallie at a courthouse. My life up until then had been like that of a vagabond gypsy. I never stayed in one place long. Jackson’s existence was quite different.

            As I learned his story, my feelings for him changed like from night to day. I went from loathing the man I thought he was, to loving the man he actually is. Although our relationship was brief and long ago, it was a hard adjustment referring to him by his changed name. He said he changed his name more out of distancing himself from a dysfunctional family rather than concern about being found. But my mouth hung open in a grin when he told me what he changed it to.

            “C. S. Lewis,” he had said. Then he smirked when he saw my response and said, “What?”

            “You changed your name to that of the famed Christian author, Clive Staples Lewis?”

            “I beg to differ,” he said, raising a finger. “I changed it to that of my mother’s and Aunt Holly’s father, Charles Scott Lewis. But in all honesty, the English writer was also a motive. He is my favorite author, and Benny’s too. He loved the Narnia series.”

            At the mention of this small aspect of my son’s life, my heart ached at how much I had missed. His first steps, his first words. Might they have been ‘Mama’ had I been there?

            “Back home a dear friend of mine’s name is Lewis,” I said, and then pondered one of my words. Home.

            Until I met the Sallie’s, I never really had a home. For home is where love is, and I felt loved by everyone. And I loved everyone in return. The Sallie’s, the Storms, Seven’s daughter Sevenia, Louis Lewis. Sure, my sister, brother and I loved each other. But it was more of a looking out for each other, since our mother only loved herself, and we lived in something like dorms.

            “This Lewis you speak of, what’s her first name?”

            “Oh, it’s he, not she.”

            What was that look that came over Jackson’s face? Jealousy? I’m sorry, although our relationship had been brief, I always knew and thought of C. S. Lewis as Jackson. But out of respect for the main reason he changed his name, I made myself begin to think of him as C. S.

            “I see, okay, what’s his name then?”

            “Louis.”

            “I meant his first name.”

            “It’s Louis.”

            “Okay, I thought you meant his last name was Louis.”

            “It is.”

            A baffled look came over his face. He scratched his head, opened his mouth, and closed it. I started laughing, I was messing with him a little bit. As I giggled, I subconsciously reached out and took hold of his hand. We were sitting across from each other on his deck in a couple of deck chairs.

            His eyes went to our joined hands. Then they turned up to my eyes. What was that look, tenderness? I didn’t know what to make of it and gently pulled my hand away. “Both his first and last names are Louis (Lewis).”

            I spelled the two for him and he burst out laughing. “You’re kidding?”

            “I am not. He’s actually Zella’s cousin,” I said, pointing to her. She and Seven were talking with Holly at the kitchen table where they were having a Bible study with his aunt. Benny was playing with two neighboring kids in the large yard. “He’s a few months younger than Zella. His parents thought it was cute how her first name rhymed with her last, LaStella. So his parents called him Louis.”

            “Interesting,” he replied.

            “Another interesting thing. He was a police Lieutenant, so we all called him Triple Lou. But then he got fired, so we all dropped the triple.”

            “Why’d he get fired?”

            “He was in charge of Sunday law enforcement when Sunday laws first came into effect. But then, mostly through Seven’s influence, he began studying the Sabbath in the Bible and became convicted of the issues at stake. Namely, the Sabbath God instituted at Creation on the seventh day vs. the sabbath of man’s creation, the Venerable Day of the Sun, Sunday.”

            “So he lost his job over it?”

            “Not at first. He had himself removed from his position. But then as Sunday laws became stricter and stricter, he actually got arrested over mandatory worship.”

            He nodded and a smile eased onto his face. Then his hand came toward mine and he took hold of it, squeezing gently. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you again, Inga.”

            Looking at him was surreal. Obviously he seemed older, yet he was so familiar. I had suspected he died his hair black all those years ago, but I genuinely thought the blue eyes looking at me now were dark brown back then, not colored contacts. I relished his hand in mine. I even longed to kiss him. But those feelings also opened the door for him to seduce me all those years ago. I eased my hand out of his.

            He smiled sadly. “I want you to know something. You’re the only female I have ever been with, you know, intimately been with.”

            Seven Sallie and I were two of a kind. Before I could stop my mouth, I asked, “Are you gay?”

            “No,” he replied with a smirk. “What with raising Benny, I didn’t date much. How about you?”

            I snorted. “I never stayed in one place long enough to establish a bond.”

            “But there were guys?”

            “Not really. I have never been on birth control, so you’re also the only one I ever, you know,” I explained. But not wanting to delve any deeper than that, I quickly changed the subject. “So how did you become a Christian?”

            “Well, having Benny was a start. Having this little creature to protect, that was half from me, shifted me away from a nihilistic life view. Then another shift came living with Aunt Holly, who is not only Christian in name, but devout.”

            “Can I ask what you’ve done for a living?”

            “I had a trust fund that I was able to access after I turned eighteen. As you know, I was eighteen when Benny was born. I withdrew my trust fund the very morning of our… I’m sorry, my escape with Benny.”

            “How much?”

            He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “A million dollars.”

            I gasped. “So you never had to work? You were a millionaire and I was homeless?”

            “You knew my dad was mega wealthy. One million isn’t even one percent of his financial worth. You must not believe me when I say it was completely my intention for us to flee together.”

            “I’m sorry. I do believe you.”

            “So, I bought this acreage here, and a tourist boat.”

            “A tourist boat?”

            “I love Lake Superior,” he shrugged. “I grew up by the Pacific ocean, so I love the water.”

            Another irony between now and then. Then Jackson always had pale skin, despite living near the ocean in southern California. Now he was tan while living in northern Minnesota. Go figure.

            He shrugged. “I didn’t say I was a surfer. But up here I am a boater. Captain of my own little ship if you please. And it paved a way to have an income and enjoy the water at the same time.”

            “You must not be happy with the last two plagues, what with the waters turning to blood.”

            “Yeah, it’s not good for business. But it’s not like the Bible didn’t warn us and prepare us.”

            “Very true.”

            “So I piloted the boat and a guy named Mick Wadena, who’s my neighbor across the woods, guided the tour up and down the shore. He was natural at talking to people. He used to be the lead singer of a Christian rock band. As a matter of fact, those are his kids playing with Benny. Another bonus having him as a partner is he’s more than twenty years older than me, so it added maturity to our little crew. I was barely twenty when I bought the boat.”

            “You say he was in a Christian band. Did he avoid the first plague?”

            “He did. But when we met, we both observed Sunday. Mick was also instrumental in my Christian growth, besides my Aunt Holly. So about five or six years ago, an old friend of his from his band days came up and stayed with him for a few weeks. He started teaching us about prophecy and the Sabbath.

            “Mick’s friend and I also bonded over shared experiences with the occult. He helped me through some ramifications I still had dealt with. You see, before he was a Christian, he was in a Satanic band. For him it was more like a gimmick. For me I grew up around it. But we still suffered something like PSTD when we separated from the demonic. I guess you could say it was something like guilt by association.”

            “Was his name Arlo Aldo?”

            C. S. Raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah, are you a fan of his music or something?”

            I suppose I was, but that wasn’t the point. “I know him.”

            “You know Arlo Aldo?” He frowned.

            “I should say I do. His son is married to a good friend of mine. She’s also the daughter and stepdaughter of Seven and Zella,” I told him as I point at the couple sitting with his aunt again.

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 22

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 22

ZELLA LaSTELLA-SALLIE

THE ANGEL OF THE LORD ENCAMPS ALL AROUND THOSE WHO FEAR HIM AND DELIVERS THEM. OH TASTE AND SEE THAT THE LORD IS GOOD. BLESSED IS THE PERSON WHO TRUSTS IN HIM. (Psalm 34:7, 8)

            It was right up there with the most emotional encounters I had ever witnessed. Inga stared absolutely dumfounded at her nine year old son. A son she hadn’t known existed. Her arctic blue eyes, a unique pair of windows to the soul I thought could never be duplicated, gazed into an identical pair of the boy.

            He had asked Inga if she was his mother. But Inga was so stunned, she was speechless. The silence as the two took each other in with awe made me feel compelled to break the quiet. I wanted to shout, ‘yes, Inga is your mother!’ But it wasn’t my place to do something. It was Inga’s right and privilege alone. Maybe the boy’s father. We hadn’t really known his story yet. Only his brief relationship with Inga many years ago.

            Thankfully my brain responded quickly. If I felt a compulsion to speak, what about my husband! A man known to speak before his brain gave him permission. I clasped a hand over Seven’s mouth just in time. Whatever he was about to say came out as a muffled “Wumph.”

            Finally Inga’s paralysis broke. With a desperate croak, she asked the boy, “Are you Benjamin?”

            “Yeah,” he replied quietly.

            “Yes, I believe I am your mother,” she croaked, then looked at Jackson as if for conformation.

            Jackson put a hand on Benjamin’s head, gently rubbing his dark brown, wavy hair that was another trait of Inga. Then he said, “She’s most definitely your mother, Son.”

            “Papa,” Benjamin began to tell Inga. “I mean my dad said that it wasn’t your fault that you have been… Absent. I’ve always wished I could meet you.”

            Benjamin took a tentative step forward. “Can I give you a hug?”

            Inga coughed out a sob but laughed as tears poured out of her eyes. “Yes, oh yes!”

            Inga’s usual attire was jeans, either a t-shirt or flannel shirt, and converse sneakers. But today she was wearing a black and white gingham dress with black and brown saddle shoes. Inga wasn’t all that used to dresses. As she knelt down to receive an embrace from her long lost son, her knees tangled in the garment, and she began to topple over.

            Seven, who was usually quickest with his tongue, proved he had fast reflexes elsewhere. Quick as a lick he grabbed Inga around the shoulders and steadied her just as the boy fell into his mother’s arms. As Inga applied several kisses to the boy’s head, a dam finally broke in my own eyes as a torrent of tears ran down my cheeks.

            Seven wiped at his eyes as well as I glanced at him. I knew what he was going to say before he said, “I’m not ashamed. Jesus Himself wept.”

            Despite a reputation for being brazen, Seven was a somewhat sensitive man. Although I loved this about him, and although he meant it when he declared Jesus wept, it still made him uncomfortable to shed tears even in front me, his beloved wife.

            I looked at Jackson. His head was bowed, but his eyes were raised as he took in the reunion of mother and son. One arm was crossed over his chest, and a hand was placed over his mouth. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as well.

            Who was this guy? Inga had described him as dark and brooding when she knew him years ago. She had even believed him to be a satanist who sacrificed his own baby to the devil. Yet that baby was now nine years old and ensconced in his birth mother’s arms, and he seemed to be relishing it as mother and son reunited.

            “I can’t believe this!” Inga said as she and her son separated from their embrace. Her hands gently clasped the young boys cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just want to look at you forever!”

            “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I want to look at you too.”

            I could tell he was an exceptional young man. Despite the dark mystery behind Jackson Bronx, this boy was raised well. He was polite, bright and loving. Eventually we got to the elephant in the yard.

            “So, Jackson,” Inga said evenly. “I don’t know whether to knee you in the family jewels or hug you.”

            “How about the later?” he replied with a tentative smile.

            To my surprise Inga and Jackson hugged. Yet it didn’t hold anywhere near the warmth of her long embrace with Benjamin. It lasted two seconds tops. As they separated, Inga said, “Well, I guess you and I have some catching up to do.”

            “Yeah, I guess so,” he replied, looking at Inga with a similar amazement that mother and son had just exhibited toward each other.

            But a tense silence ensued as the parents of Benjamin stared at each other. Then Inga defiantly crossed her arms. “I guess we could start by you explaining why you had me knocked out, stole my baby and had me dumped into the woods.”

            “I didn’t Inga, I swear!” Jackson replied, holding both hands up.

            “Well, I’m pretty sure I didn’t dream the most horrifying moment of my life. That being you taking our baby out of my arms, AND SAYING, he was to be a sacrifice to the master.”

            “It was a ruse.”

            “A ruse? Well, that was some kind of ruse, seeing how I woke up laying in dirt with ants crawling all over me.”

            “I’m so, so sorry, Inga! My plan back fired.”

            “I’d say!” Inga retorted. She was working up a lather, and I felt Seven’s hand go into mine. My husband was signaling us to silently pray.

            Inga bowed her head and pinched her nose. With forced calm she said, “Okay, what happened, happened. Why don’t you tell me about this so called ruse? Maybe you could also tell me who exactly the woman known as Jezzy is.”

            “Jezzy was my dad’s girlfriend. She and my dad were hard core satanists.”

            “So I assume you renounced satanism, seeing how you avoided the first plague?”

            “I grew up with the occult, Inga, I did. But I guess you could say my heart was never really into it. This may make you laugh, or as you mentioned before, knee me in the privates. But you and Benny transformed me.”

            Inga studied Jackson thoughtfully. There was a lump on her cheek, and she was literally biting her tongue as she absorbed his words.

            “Full disclosure,” he said boldly. “Do you remember when I came to stay at Uncle Bryson’s with my brother Barret?”

            “Of course I do.”

            “Well, one of us was supposed to, how do I put this? Steal you away.”

            “You mean kidnap!”

            “Not exactly. We were supposed to win your affections and convince you to come away with us.”

            “We?”

            “Which ever one of us you took to.”

            “That’s weird, because full disclosure, I liked your brother better, even though I thought you were cuter.”

            “I know, that’s why I got to you first.”

            “And why’s that, did the winner get a big reward?”

            “Not at all, it’s because I liked you and Barret didn’t. He thought you were a scrawny, nerdy, brat. But he was still interested just because he wanted the accolades. Then I screwed up by letting you seduce me.”

            “Me seduce you!” Inga barked with hands on hips.

            “Yeah, just by being your sweet and spicey self,” he said with a coy grin.

            Inga heatedly crossed her arms across her chest again. “What do mean by screwed up?”

            “You were supposed to be a virgin sacrifice.”

            “Why me?”

            “Your eyes. Both my dad and my uncle thought they were magical. My dad wanted to offer you as a sacrifice, but Uncle Bryson wanted to marry you. Even from the start I was trying to figure out a way to get you away from both of them.”

            “So, is your Uncle Bryson a Satanist?” she asked.

            “I’d say so, but he privately thought of himself as a Luciferian.”

            “What’s the difference?”

            “Well, not much. Satan was known as Lucifer before he was banished from heaven. The name means Light Bearer and Morning Star. That’s why my uncle was obsessed with ufology. The main difference between him and my dad is their approach. My dad is more blatant, more into the carnal, hedonistic side. Uncle Bryson is more into power and influence.”

            “I don’t understand you though,” she said. “You were so dark and creepy, even scary. But then when I got to know you, I thought you were really sweet, albeit mysterious.”

            “I guess the simplest analogy would be this,” he explained. “Think of a kid who went to a Christian parochial school but secretly rebelled against the family religion when not at home. He wore the uniform and played the part, even though he was secretly partying or looking at porn.”

            “So you dressed like a demonologist but wasn’t into, for lack of a better word, the theology.”

            “Yeah, that would be a good way to put it, I guess” he shrugged. “Look, I’ve discovered most Christians don’t even understand their own belief system and history, so how can somebody conjuring devils really understand theirs? Most Christians can’t even explain what the protestant reformation was all about.”

            “Wow, so if you were faking being an occultist back then, you deserved an Oscar.”

            “I’m not gonna lie. As a youth I thought the imagery was pretty cool. That’s probably one of the reasons Halloween is so popular. But I thought my dad’s rituals and beliefs and so forth were ridiculous.”

            “You say your dad and not your parents. Where was your mom?”

            “He divorced my mom when I was very young. I don’t even remember meeting her until I was a teenager. Long story short, he got her addicted to drugs and then in the divorce had her condemned as an unfit mother. Aunt Holly here is my mother’s aunt. In other words my grandmother’s sister. It was she who helped me escape here to Minnesota with Benny.”

            “Help you escape with Benny,” Inga repeated quietly, yet with a hint of anger.

            Jackson perceived the underlying hostility beneath Inga’s words and explained. “The guy that knocked you out and put you in the woods, Brandon, was a buddy of mine. It was me that got him in with my dad as a bodyguard. Anyway, Jezzy wanted you dead. She thought he killed you and disposed of your body. But like I said, Brandon was a buddy, and he owed me.

            “He knocked you out with a little chloroform and then gave you a mild tranquilizer. The plan was for me to sneak out a back door at a certain point in their ritual, ceremony, whatever you want to call it. I had a car waiting for me, another friend of mine driving. He had Benny and was waiting on the other side of the woods.

            “God as my witness, I intended to carry you the quarter mile through the woods and have you escape with me. The plan was for us to start a new life right here in northern Minnesota. Far away from where my dad’s cult or my uncle’s cult could find us. I couldn’t reveal the plan to you because you were watched like a hawk. There were cameras and listening devises everywhere.”

            Inga was hugging herself. I could tell by her countenance that she was overwhelmed. But the grace of God combined with years of being homeless had made her mentally tough. She stoically told Jackson, “Your uncle almost found me.”

            He looked astonished. “When? Where?”

            “Many months ago in Cedar Rapids. I was unwise and told a friend in the homeless community my story. I figured after all those years and distance it didn’t matter. But she betrayed me and told Bryson where I was for a payoff. He sent a couple goons. But an old friend from the cult and a federal agent who was undercover in the cult got us word in return. Thankfully I had met the Sallie’s here, and Seven’s cousin along with a retired police officer friend helped us capture them. If it wasn’t for meeting the Sallie’s, I’m sure they would have got me.”

            I couldn’t keep silent. I turned my gaze onto Jackson and said, “The main reason they were captured, is Inga bravely set herself up as a decoy.”

            “Believe it or not,” Inga added humbly.

            “Oh, I believe it,” Jackson said, gazing fondly at Inga. “That’s one of the reasons I fell in love with her. Like I said, sweet and spicey.”

            Inga’s return gaze was neutral. “So did you try to find me when you discovered that I wasn’t in the woods where you thought I should be? I hitch hiked for about an hour you know.”

            “We did. But to be honest we didn’t have much time. We only had a small window before they discovered Benny and I were gone. I did hire private detectives to try to find you, but they came up with pretty much nothing.”

            Inga shrugged. “I disappeared into the homeless community. For a long time I never stayed in one place very long.”

            “At first I thought Brandon double crossed me,” Jackson said. “But then the private eyes I hired said the police described you as coming to them for help. I got the impression they thought you were an out of your mind addict.”

            “Did they seem to care when my story was corroborated?” Inga asked with a frown.

            “One of the gum shoes said a sergeant seemed troubled and concerned. But whether they followed up by questioning those at my father’s mansion, I don’t know. I was on the run and in their minds, betrayed them. So I had no way of knowing.”

            Inga looked at Benjamin, who was studying her carefully. Inga took his hand. “I’ve missed you. Or maybe I should say I’ve missed knowing you. But I thought…You were… Can I have another hug?”

            Benjamin nodded, smiled shyly, and fulfilled her wish. After another round of hugs and tears, Inga faced Jackson. “Well, it looks like you’ve done a fine job raising Benjamin.”

            “I did what I could, but I need to defer that compliment to my Aunt Holly,” he declared waving a hand toward the older woman. “I couldn’t have done it without her.”

            “Thank you, Ms. Holly,” Inga said. Then she hugged herself and bit her lip.

            “It’s been my pleasure,” Holly replied meekly.

            “I did everything I could to find you, Inga, please believe me,” Jackson said.

            She smiled tentatively. “Actually I do tend to believe you.”

            “I would like to know how you found me,” he said with a cautious smile. “I mean, I’ve changed my name, we live off the grid. How on earth did you ever find me out here?”

            Inga gave a matter of fact shrug and said, “An angel told me.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 21

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 21

SEVEN SALLIE

OH, THE DEPTH OF THE RICHES BOTH OF THE WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE OF GOD! HOW UNSEARCHABLE ARE HIS JUDGEMENTS AND HIS WAYS PAST FINDING OUT! (Romans 11:33)

            “Seven watch where you’re going!” my wife bellowed just as I veered our Subaru Outback back onto the dirt road after putting the passenger side wheels a couple feet onto the grassy shoulders.

            Inga had just stunned us by informing Zella and me that she had become pregnant as a fifteen year old girl. The impregnator happened to be the guy we were looking for in northern Minnesota. In my surprise I had glanced over my right shoulder at Inga, who was sitting in the back seat.

            This inadvertently caused my hand on the steering wheel to move along with my head. Or as my cousin Brock once called it after I got us into some trouble as teenagers, that lump  attached to my neck. His assessment may have proven correct, because my words caused my wife’s lovely dark brown eyes to produce daggers and her lovely lips to purse as if biting a lemon.

            “Did you abort?” I had asked.

            “Seven, that was crass,” Zella scolded. Then her countenance turned compassionate as she aimed it at Inga. “You don’t have to answer that.”

            “No, it’s okay,” Inga replied quietly and looked out of her window for a few seconds before admitting. “I kept him but then lost him.”

            “You mean you miscarried?” Zella gently asked.

            “No,” her voice croaked. “Jackson sort of became my boyfriend. We supposedly tried to be careful when it came to, you know, intimacy. But, well, I still ended up with a bun in the oven. He took me to some relative of his, I think it was a relative anyway. I never did understand what she was to him, an aunt, a cousin, I don’t know.”

            Inga shook her head and gazed thoughtfully out of the window again.

            “You don’t have to recount your situation, Sweety,” my wife told her.

            Yes she does, I selfishly thought. I want to know what happened.

            “No, I want you guys to know what happened. I want you to know what Jackson was like, even though I don’t understand him myself. Let me say this though. If Jackson Bronx has avoided the plagues, that is the biggest surprise to me of anyone. By far! I believe he got me pregnant on purpose. He… He…”

            Inga put her face in her hands and began sobbing. She spoke into her hands and her words, though muffled, were clear enough. “I don’t want to see him. I don’t understand why we were sent here. What do I say to this man I despise, even if he did somehow repent. He must have. He had to have. How else…”

            Inga paused. “Repent from what?” I asked.

            My wife’s leg twitched and I perceived that she wanted to kick me. “Seven, give her space. Did you forget to take your Genius Juice this morning?”

            “No, I took it.”

            “Could have fooled me.”

            “Sorry, Inga,” I said.

            “It’s okay,” Inga replied meekly. My heart ached for her. I was used to seeing her bold and feisty. It hurt seeing her so broken. But then her feistiness came back with a punch as she angrily declared, “Jackson groomed our baby for a satanic sacrifice.”

            “What!” Zella and I said at the same time. Then I only added to my wife’s ire by adding, “And you let him?”

            “No, I did not let him!” she barked heatedly. Then her demeanor shifted to solemn and she spoke with a monotone voice. “Benjamin wasn’t even a month old. Jackson and that witchy woman came and took him out of my arms as I was nursing him. They had two goons with them. Jackson, just as cold as could be, said ‘it is time for us to make our offering to the master.’

            “I was dumbfounded and demanded to know what he was talking about. Just as pleased as punch, that witchy woman, everyone called her Jezzy, explained about the satanic ritual. I went historical, but the two goons grabbed me. One of them put something over my face. It was a rag with chloroform or something.

            “The next thing I knew, I woke up in some woods behind this big mansion type house where I had my baby. Why they didn’t kill me I don’t know. But I got outta there with only the clothes on my back and hitchhiked back to town. That was a nightmare in itself. I don’t want to go into that right now though.

            “But when I finally get to the cop shop, the police acted like I was just a crazy lunatic. I guess I can’t blame them. And I guess that’s why the goons didn’t kill me. They knew the police wouldn’t believe me. But the police did let me use their phone to call my sister. And that was the beginning of us becoming homeless vagabonds.”

            “Wow, no wonder you’re not looking forward to facing Jackson,” I said.

            “Ya think,” Inga snapped. “Sorry. It’s just that I don’t have a clue how I am supposed to behave. I mean, am I really supposed to forgive the man that killed my baby. He was even the father of the child. I can’t fathom how that depth of evil avoided the plagues thus far.”

            “I don’t know what to tell you, Honey,” Zella said. “The only thing I can say is Jesus asked for forgiveness for those who tortured and killed Him.” (Luke 23:34)

            “Yeah,” Inga said meekly as she folded her hands in her lap, chewed her lip and gazed out of her window.

            A couple minutes later, GPS announced we were there. We already knew that as all six of our eyes were trained on a log cabin type house. It looked like something from a century or two ago. It had a small eight by ten foot porch with two rocking chairs.

            “Seven, why don’t you go knock on the door?” Zella petitioned.

            Why me! My mind shouted, yet I forced my actions to nobility. “Okay.”

            I tried three times, but no one came and I heard nothing inside. The cabin was on a bit of a hill, and the back side was twice as big as the front. There was a large deck supported by ten foot tall four by fours. About fifteen stairs jutted to the side of the structure.

            I heard low voices coming from the deck. With heart pounding I placed my foot on the first step, then the second step, then from my voice box came a greeting, “Hello?”

            The talking stopped and a twenty something year old man appeared at the top of the stairs. Thankfully he returned my greeting, albeit cautiously. “Hello.”

            He had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes looked at me through wire rimmed glasses. My first thought was that this couldn’t be Jackson. Inga described him with black hair and dark eyes. There were four deck chairs. Three were empty, but one was occupied by an older woman who appeared to be in her seventies.

            The sandy haired man held a Bible in his hand. With a friendly, but careful tone he asked, “Can I help you?”

            “I’m looking for a fella by the name of Jackson Bronx,” I told him.

            He looked stunned and took a step back. “May I ask why and who you are?”

            I chuckled nervously. “Well, it’s complicated, and might sound farfetched.”

            “Try me,” he said almost as a challenge and with narrowed eyes.

            “My name is Seven Sallie, I…”

            “Thee Seven Sallie?” the older lady broke in with an air of excitement as she arose and stood by the sandy haired man. “The legendary broadcaster?”

            With a little bit of a bow and a hand on my chest, I replied, “Yes ma’am, it is I.”

            My mind’s ear heard my lovely wife say, ‘Give me break.’ It was definitive enough that I even turned to see if she was behind me. She wasn’t. I also wondered if I should explain to this nice lady that my little head bow and hand to the chest was spontaneous, and that my mock humility sprang from praise actually making me uncomfortable.

            This wasn’t always the case with me. When I was a secular broadcaster with a syndicated show on hundreds of radio stations, I was full of myself. But after my Christian conversion, I began mocking my old self. I occasionally joked that I was a legend in my own time. Then my wife would finish my statement by declaring that I was a legend in my own mind. This usually garnered a laugh from the company we kept.

            The converted me enjoyed the tranquility of not taking myself so seriously. The born again me (John 3:3-7), the new creation I became (2 Corinthians 5:17), enjoyed true peace giving God the glory rather than myself.

            “Okay,” the sandy haired man said matter of fact, clearly not as impressed with me as his older companion.  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Sallie. But why are you here then?”

            “I’m with a young woman named Inga Likas. She…”

            “Inga Likas!” he interrupted with wide eyes. He definitely was more interested in Inga rather than the venerable Seven Sallie.

            “Yes, also known as Inga…”

            “Cognito,” he interrupted again.

            “Right, so apparently you know her.”

            “Of course I do.”

            “Okay, great,” I replied, frowning as I wrapped my mind around this second guy. “So do you know where Jackson Bronx is?”

            “You’re looking at him.”

            I looked to my right and to my left. Inga described Jackson as having black hair and dark  eyes. This guy in front of me had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Inga described you as having black hair and brown eyes.”

            “When I knew her, I dyed my hair and wore colored contacts,” he said quickly, then grabbed my forearm and asked excitedly, “Is she here?”

            I looked at his hand on my arm and he pulled it away. “Sorry.”

            “No problem,” I replied. “Yeah, she’s around front.”

            He went down the deck stairs two at a time and I followed. Inga and Zella were slowly roaming around the front yard. Their heads swiveling as they took in the woods that surrounded about an acre of lawn. Inga froze as Jackson approached her.

            “Inga!” he said with open arms as if to hug her.

            She took a couple quick steps back and ordered, “Stay away from me.”

            He put up his hands in a surrender gesture.

            The front door opened and an eight or nine year-old boy ran to Jackson. “Papa, Aunt Holly said Inga was here.”

            My eyes went from the boy to Inga. I never saw a more stunned face in my life. Her jaw hung open, as did my wife’s. Then my gaze returned to the boy, and I took in his wide, expressive arctic blue eyes, Inga’s eyes, as they trained on her. Then my jaw dropped when I heard him ask Inga, “Are you my mom?”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 20

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 20

INGA LIKAS (AKA INGA COGNITO)

SUBMIT TO GOD. RESIST THE DEVIL AND HE WILL FLEE FROM YOU. DRAW NEAR TO GOD AND HE WILL DRAW NEAR TO YOU. CLEANSE YOUR HANDS YOU SINNERS, AND PURIFY YOUR HEARTS YOU DOUBLE MINDED (James 4:7, 8)

            It was like being in a real live science fiction movie! The second and third plagues had fallen, and the seas and waters became blood. (Revelation 16:3, 4) Lake Superior was dark red and foamy on its banks. The smell of it along with the dead fish was gagging me. The thought of paying a visit to Jackson Bronx was making me nauseous with anxiety. I’m surprised I didn’t throw up.

            But I kept remembering Bible verses about confidence in God. Like there is no fear in love. Perfect love casts out fear. (1 John 4:18) Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10) God will keep you in perfect peace when it stays on Him. (Isaiah 26:3) For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. (2 Timothy 1:7)

            I was with Seven and Zella LaStella-Sallie.  We were riding in their dark green Subaru Outback. I was in the back seat with Seven driving and Zella riding shotgun. My two close friends were also a comfort provided by God.

            Our trip up to the north shore of Minnesota was another element like out of a science fiction movie. For one thing, it was as if we were teleported. It seemed like we were barely on the road, and we were driving through Duluth. It should have taken us about five hours to get there, but it seemed like only minutes. The city was desolate. Like the COVID lock down times ten. The few people we did encounter eyed us skeptically.

            But just as the angel assured us, we would be protected from any angry people or mobs that blamed Sabbath keepers for the plagues. The angel also had programmed Jackson Bronx’s address into the GPS. It turned out to be a cabin several miles off of highway 61. Very remote.

            I should have felt creeped out as we got closer. Jackson Bronx was a strange, sinister boy who was almost two years older than me. He was seventeen the last time I saw him. After I tell you what happened the last time I saw him, you’ll understand why I felt anxious as his cabin came into view. But the Word of God gave me courage to go forward.

            Not quite a decade previous, he had crept into my room at midnight. I awoke to a hand over my mouth and a knife blade’s tip an inch from my eye. A full moon’s light shone in through the window and  his dark eyes glazed crazily into mine. Yet his bizarre actions supposedly came as a warning rather than a threat.

            “Uncle Bronx thinks you’re pretty bright blue eyes are magical,” he had whispered. “He intends to make you his wife…. Do you want me to gouge them out? Ouch! Why’d you bite my hand?”

            I wanted to say, ‘what do think you, idiot?’ But that wouldn’t be wise to ask that of an evil person while they held a knife to your face. So I said, “I have allergies. I can’t breathe through my nose.”

            My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest as I prepared to be slashed. But he sat back on his haunches and spoke patiently as he lifted his hand toward the window and the moon’s light to check it over. “I can’t believe you bit me.”

            “I can’t believe you snuck into my room and threatened me!” I replied but then realized I shouldn’t have been surprised. There was a reason I kept my distance from him as much as possible.

            “I didn’t sneak into your room to threaten you. I came into your room to warn you. Maybe you should lock your door.”

            “There are no locks on the doors,” I told him. Then I almost called this place what it was, a cult. But I didn’t know just how close Jackson was to the cult leader, his Uncle Bryson. So I said, “At this compound.”

            “Put a chair under the doorknob,” he said, pointing at a chair under a desk.

            “It has wheels.”

            “Well, get creative then. Hang bells on the door or something.”

            “That still won’t keep creeps like you out,” I blurted, and instantly tensed. I guess diarrhea of the mouth began early for me. I wonder when it started for Seven?

            But he didn’t seem to mind. He shrugged and said, “But it would warn you when a creep like me comes in.”

            “Do you think you’re a creep?” I asked mildly. Then I tensed again. Why did my mouth tend to speak before the rational part of my brain gave it permission to?

            “No, but you apparently do.”

            “Can you blame me? You’re always wearing black with dark satanic imagery.”

            His eyes suddenly looked crazed in the moonlight, and he pointed his index fingers up from his forehead like devil horns. Then he gave a ghoulish grin. No, more like a silly grin. He waggled his tongue and went, “Aaaaah.”

            I don’t know why, but this made me want to laugh, but I held it in. So then it came out as a burst when I couldn’t hold it any more. It was along the lines of not supposed to laugh making something seem funnier.

            “I like you, Inga,” he said softly and ran a finger gently against my cheek.

            I was stunned. I’d never seen Jackson be anything but dark and brooding. It took me off guard, first by him acting silly and now acting sweet. The truth is, I always thought he was cute. But the evil persona he took on turned me off. So instead of saying I liked him too, I asked, “Why are you into devil stuff.”

            “I’m not,” he shrugged.

            “Yeah? Could have fooled me. Actually you’re not fooling me. You don’t just accidently wear inverted crosses and pentagrams, listen to death metal music, sneak into girls rooms at midnight, and put knives to their face.”

            “In my defense, you’re the only girl I’ve ever snuck in on and done that.”

            “Well, how special for me,” I mocked, tilting my head. Then I frowned. He had in fact just awakened me with a knife practically in my eye, yet I wasn’t afraid anymore. But never trust a devil, they will be charming one second and diabolical the next.

            “Like I said, I came to warn you, not harm you.”

            “So why the knife to the face?
            “I didn’t want you to freak out.”

            “Didn’t want me to freak out! You’ve got to be kidding!”

            He shook his head and waved his hands. “I wanted to make sure you kept silent. If I would have simply shaken you awake, you might have screamed.”

            “No might have about it,” I admitted.

            We gazed at each other in the moonlight for several long seconds. Then he said, “Well, you’ve been warned. I better go.”

            Strangely, I didn’t want him to go. He had been sitting on the side of my bed and arose. I had been sitting up in my bed at that point and grabbed his hand. “Let’s talk some more.”

            “Ouch,” he responded, pulling his hand away from mine. But then he sat back down on the side of my bed. “I still can’t believe you bit me.”

            “Sorry,” I said and then frowned. Why was I apologizing? He’s the one that snuck into my room, put a knife to my face and hand over my mouth. My reaction was just instinctive, self-protective.

            “I ought to bite you,” he said with a coy smile.

            He suddenly pulled me to himself and nibbled on my neck. It tickled, so I giggled, but I pushed away from him. Then he grabbed me by the shoulders, yanked me back toward him, and kissed me. The weird thing was, I kissed him back even as I halfheartedly tried to push away.

            It’s strange how the mind works. This duel nature in us humans. There’s part of the mind that draws us to wrong things, also known as sin. Then there’s this other part of the mind that tells us to do what is right, also known as the conscience. It is here, I believe, where we either cooperate or ignore the working of the Holy Spirit. Even back then, when I wasn’t a follower of Jesus, I felt this struggle within me.

            I think the Apostle Paul explains this struggle very well in Romans chapter seven. But that evening with Jackson kissing me in my bed at midnight, with me wearing nothing but a little nightgown, a garment that was really only a big t-shirt? For that I will boil Romans chapter seven down to verses 23-25.

            ‘I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. Oh wretched person that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God. But with the flesh, the law of sin.’

            But I knew very little about Jesus or the Bible back then. So the law of the flesh was ruling over the law of my mind as Jackson kissed me. Something inside me said, no this isn’t right, get away. Where did that instinct come from? Yet another part of me said, this feels good, put your arm around his neck. So I did, and carnal passion smothered out good sense and reason.

            But there were a couple moments of conscience and reason fighting for air. After several minutes of kissing like they do in France, Jackson lifted my night gown. I yanked it back down. “No!”

            “I like your feistiness,” he said with a laugh, trying again with me rejecting again.

            Then this typically brooding, scowling young man, not only smiled, but laughed. This disarmed me even further. But then he began to arm me back up by saying. “Uncle Bryson wants you as a virgin bride as soon as you turn sixteen. We can eliminate half of the equation of virgin bride right now.”

            Fear erased the passion I was feeling, and I rolled away from him. “No! You better leave right now!”

            “Okay, suit yourself, Inga,” he said mildly. He actually got up and walked to the door as if to leave. But he stopped, turned, and said, “I must say, it hurts that you would rather have a guy almost old enough to be your grandfather rather than me. But, like I said, suit yourself.”

            “Like I have choice? If he finds I’m not a virgin, he will likely kill me.”

            “Not if I tell him you’re my girlfriend.”

            “Do that and he’ll kill you too.”

            Jackson snorted. “Oh, lovely Inga, you know so little. Uncle Bryson acts like he’s superman, but my brothers and me are his kryptonite.”

            He didn’t explain why he and his brothers were like kryptonite, that I found out later. But I was an infatuated teenage girl and foremost on my mind was, ‘he called me lovely!’ Me, a gangly girl making her way out of puberty. Did he also say girlfriend? That had a ring of permanence.

            But Jackson was dark, sinister and not to be trusted. However, that night he was sweet and charming. Can leopard a change his spots? No, but maybe I could change him. How many millions of women got into a mess thinking that?                                                                                      I hopped out of my bed and went to him. “You really want me to be your girlfriend?”

            “I do,” he said gently, caressing my cheek with his finger again. Like the foolish girl I was, I whimpered and we started kissing again.

            Back to the current situation. I heard Zella say, “You’re awfully quiet, Inga. Penny for your thoughts.”

            “Huh?” I replied, a little rattled. My little trip down memory lane was getting more bumpy by the mile, or I guess I should say minute.

            “You seemed to be deep in thought,” she added.

            “Yeah, I guess so,” I said and then paused, considering my very dear friends in the front seat. ‘Confess your trespasses to one to another’ came to mind. (James 5:16) “You know how I told you I ran away from that cult in California when I was sixteen.”

            “Sure I do.”

            “What I left out was that I was pregnant… By Jackson Bronx.”