CXXII

TRICKY TRIANGLE

CHAPTER 2

REMEMBER NOW YOUR CREATOR IN THE DAYS OF YOUR YOUTH

ECCLESIASTES 12:1

The bell rang as Hal stepped into science class, and slumped into his chair at the lab table he shared with Wendy Lancing. He felt surprisingly uncomfortable sitting next to the pretty redhead. Yesterday at this time they had really hit it off. So much so that he began devising a plan to ask her out. But then, his so called best friend, Ed Parker, pulled the rug out from under him.

Initially, Hal had hoped to arrange a double date. He would escort his brand new lab partner Wendy, and his good buddy Ed would pair with Wendy’s best friend, Dawn Bird. But after school yesterday, Hal had suggested this idea to Ed as they walked to the school parking lot. He even gave Ed a visual as he pointed out the two girls as they made their way to a bus. That’s when Ed dashed off by himself and asked the preferred girl first. Leaving Hal with snooty, stuck up Dawn.

“Hey,” Wendy greeted Hal with a bright smile.

“Hey yourself,” Hal replied, then he forced the corners of his lips upward.

“Dawn and I are really looking forward to Saturday night,” she cooed.

He felt like saying ‘Ed is too,’ but instead replied, “We are too.”

Then she spoke low and conspiratorially. “I had no idea you liked Dawn.”

Hal felt like replying bitterly that he didn’t realize it either.

“Actually,” she continued and then giggled, scrunching her slim, elegant nose adorably. “When you guys came over to the bus stop yesterday, I thought for sure it would be me going out with you, and Ed with Dawn. I mean, you and I hit it off so well yesterday after we were assigned a lab table together. I just figured, you know…”

“Yeah, I know,” Hal replied as his brain scrambled to somehow turn the tables, putting him with Wendy, and Hal with Dawn. It seemed possible if he played it right.

“Can I ask you something?” Wendy asked with a whisper and excited giggle.

“Sure,” Hal replied with a shrug.

“How long have you had a thing for Dawn?”

Hal felt his eyes widen. Wendy put a hand over his hand. “Dawn and I are tight, yes, but I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, that I won’t tell her.”

“Um, well, the truth is,” Hal replied, then paused, and glanced toward Dawn. She was sitting one table up in the row of tables on the other side. She was wearing a dark blue skirt that rose a couple of inches above her knees. One leg was crossed over the other, and a pump with a one inch heel dangled from her toes. He admired the arch of her foot, and the shapely tan leg it was attached to.

“The truth is what?” Wendy asked eagerly.

Hal had considered coming clean about the double cross. It might end his and Ed’s friendship, but unlike Dawn who declared she was saving herself for marriage, Hal felt like Wendy would give in over time. Maybe even not very much time.

But he kept watching Dawn. Her hand went to a pencil on her table. The index finger slowly pushed it slowly to the edge, and it quietly clattered to the floor. When she leaned over to pick it up, Hal noticed the small, but pleasant form protruding from her snug, light blue turtleneck. After she secured the pencil in her fingers, she aimed a gaze at Wendy at Hal. When she discovered her eyes locking with Hal’s eyes, she quickly turned her head.

Hal chuckled. “The truth is… I don’t really know. It’s been kind of a recent development that I quite honestly am not sure of.”

“What aren’t you sure of?”

“Well,” Hal shrugged, then paused, choosing his words carefully, but unsuccessfully. “She’s always been, you know, a snot.”

“She’s really not, a snot,” Wendy said with sad eyes, but then giggled at the rhyme. “She’s really sweet when you get to know her. She’s just shy, and I know the way she handles her insecurities can appear to be bratty.”

“Dawn insecure?” Hal laughed. “She could run faster and climb a tree higher than most of the boys in our class. But she was also the quickest to nark somebody off if they, say, played basketball in the school gym when they weren’t supposed to.”

“Man, you really hold a grudge,” Wendy scolded with a lighthearted smile.

“I’m just saying,” Hal shrugged.

“I don’t know if you know, but her father had died not long before that whole incident. So her pain probably made her more prone to be, as you would say, a snot.”

“I don’t remember, to be honest,” Hal responded. “I don’t recall ever seeing her dad. I remember her mom having a heavy accent.”

“Her mom was born is Spain. She came to the states when she was a teenager.”

Hal nodded. “I also recall her grandfather dropping her off at school quite a bit.”

“That wasn’t her grandfather, silly. That was her dad.”

“That white haired guy that always drove that big black Cadillac was her dad?”

“Yeah, he was at least twenty years older than Dawn’s mother. And her mother was in her late thirties when Dawn was born. She was an only child, and her mom is, forgive me, a cold uptight neat freak. I’ve never seen her show Dawn any affection. As a matter of fact…”

“Alright, class,” Mr. Jackson ordered. “Open your textbooks to page twelve.”

Three days later, Hal was quiet and pensive as the two young men rode in Ed’s car to pick up their dates.

“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” Ed tried cautiously.

“I must not be too mad. I’m here aren’t I?” Hal replied.

“Why so down cast then?”

“If I need to explain, you’re not a very good friend. Which I’m already concluding.”

Ed sighed. “Look man, we’ll switch, alright? It’s not like I really premeditated what I did in asking Wendy out first. You’re the one who has always told me I need to be more spontaneous.”

“Alright, we’ll switch then. Do you want to tell Wendy to get in the back with me, or should I?”

Ed eyed his buddy a little stunned. He didn’t really mean they should switch, he was just trying to ease his conscience with some disingenuous words. But Ed knew his friend too well. He was certain Hal was playing him. “Would you mind telling them? You’ve always been a smoother talker than me.”

Hal grinned at Ed. “Calling my bluff, eh?”

“Oh, you were bluffing?” Ed replied with his own relieved grin.

Hal just wanted to get the evening over with. As soon as the band was done, he was done. But something took him a little off guard. Every time he saw Dawn lately, she seemed even more attractive than the last time.

 Both girls wore short plaid skirts. Dawn’s was red, while Wendy’s was green. Both wore go-go boots. Dawn’s were black, while Wendy’s were white. Dawn had a red button up sweater on covering a white blouse, Wendy wore a green turtleneck.

The four teenagers ate burgers and fries at a drive in restaurant with a waitress on skates serving them. Wendy and Ed chatted merrily, Dawn and Hal ate mostly in silence. Then Dawn wearied of the tension between them. “So, what do you plan to do after graduation?” she asked.

“Shoot, I don’t know. Graduation is a long way off with the school year just starting.”

Hal actually felt uncomfortable with how testy he sounded, and he asked Dawn with an upbeat tone. “How about you, do you have plans?”

“Wendy and I are going to college at UNI. We both want to be teachers.”

“What kind of teachers?”

“I hope to teach high school English, and Dawn wants to teach art.”

“Why don’t you want to teach elementary? Don’t you like little kids?” Hal asked and once again, regretted his tone. He was just trying to tease, but it sounded like a criticism.

Dawn just shrugged. “I love literature, and writing.”

Hal nodded, and they resumed silence.

The concert was outside. Wendy and Ed still seemed to chat nonstop. Dawn and Hal did their best at small talk, but it felt forced and awkward. Boy, did Hal ever want to get this night over. But then something shifted in their chemistry, ironically happening when the concert was over.

Wendy and Ed went to find a phone booth, and Dawn and Ed were walking back to the car when Dawn stepped in a rut, twisting her ankle. As she was falling, she clutched Hal’s arm. His quick reflexes and natural athleticism kicked in, and he caught her. She winced with pain, and Hal scooped her up effortlessly. She gave a little squeal of surprise as her arms went around his neck. He walked her to a nearby bench, sitting her down gently.

“Lets have a look,” Hal said. He knelt in front of her and unzipped her boot. He rubbed her ankle carefully, asking “Does that hurt?”

“Not too bad,” she replied a little breathlessly. Her anxious gasps weren’t from the pain, however.

“It’s not broke,” Hal said, and then seemed to go into a bit of a trance. He was mesmerized by the sexiness of this once nerdy tomboy. As his hands inched up to her calf, she exuded a nervous laugh. “I think I’ll be alright now. Thank you.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.” Hal sat back on his haunches like a baseball catcher, a bit dazed by what he was feeling.

He watched her put her boot back on, to make sure she was okay, of course. After she zipped the boot back in place, she stood and did two laps around the bench, limping slightly. “I think I’m fine. It just really smarted when I first twisted it.”

“Okay, yeah, good,” Hal stammered.

Dawn giggled, and he felt his face flush. Did she know her beauty was disorienting him? But that wasn’t why she was laughing. She pulled a tissue out of her purse. “Hal, you’ve had something on your face ever since dinner, can I wipe it off?”

Now he felt not only embarrassed, but annoyed. She hasn’t changed after all. Little Miss Perfect. He wiped at his face with an irritated fury, but missed the catchup at the corner of his mouth entirely.

“Here,” Dawn said, rubbing it with her tissue. “You helped me with my ankle, I’ll help you with your messy mouth.”

But the catchup had dried. Dawn frowned, then licked the tissue to moisten it. She rubbed the corner of his mouth again, and the catchup transferred easily to the tissue. Hal felt the wetness from her mouth on his skin.

“What?” Dawn said with a startled expression.

“What do you mean what?”

“You’re looking at me funny.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I don’t mean to be,” Hal said, and then with out thinking, licked the spot where he felt her saliva.

It occurred to her that he was her date, not some child she was babysitting. She felt her face flush and looked away shyly. Thankfully Wendy and Ed returned.

“You cats ready to go?” Ed asked.

“Yes,” Dawn and Hal replied eagerly and at the same time.

In bed that night, Dawn retraced the evening in her mind. There were so many awkward moments, it was hard to feel optimistic. She had hoped Hal would ask her out again, or at least say he had enjoyed himself. Instead he simply said goodnight.

Why did she feel so drawn to him? It wasn’t just because he was cute, there were other handsome guys that were beginning to pay her some attention. He was actually kind of a rebel, but she knew he had a sweet side. Maybe that was it. She never forgot the time in fourth grade when she dropped her notebook and some mean boys began kicking at the scattered papers, Hal demanded they knock it off. He then helped her pick them up.

So why did she tell on Him and Ed a year later for playing in the gym when they weren’t supposed to be? It must have been a case of thinking negative attention is better than no attention at all.

Hal felt annoyed that Dawn wouldn’t leave his mind. He had trouble getting to sleep. How dare she wipe his mouth like he was a little kid? Yet the feel of the wetness of her tongue so close to his mouth was strangely alluring. And the way she looked. Dawn was no longer a tomboy, that’s for sure. But he bet she was still a fast runner with that lithe body, and sleek, strong looking legs.

The following afternoon, he had just finished running an errand for his father in his father’s pickup truck. He approached the back side of an attractive female walking on a foot trail just off the road and along a wooded area. She was wearing jean shorts, a white and blue checked blouse, and sneakers. Her brown hair was in a ponytail.

Then something about the young lady made his heart race with anticipation. She was limping slightly. After he passed, he glanced out of the back window. Sure enough it was Dawn. He looked at the road ahead, and then turned to look again. She was gone!

He pulled off the road and looked frantically for where she might have disappeared. Then he spotted her climbing carefully over a barbed wire fence, and then heading down a deer trail. Where was she going? The woods ended in a quarter mile at a bluff overlooking the river. It was thirty feet up from the water, you couldn’t fish there.

He parked the truck and began to follow her. He told himself it was because a hobo jungle was nearby, and she might need protection. The reality is, he was spying out of curiosity. Would he even be doing this he hadn’t just been on a date with her the previous night? Probably not. He would have admired the view of her walking and just kept going.

By the time he caught up, she was at the bluff, kneeling by a rock. What was she doing? He slowly, quietly, inched closer and closer. She was talking to herself. He got a little closer and heard her say “Lord.” She was praying.

Hal sat carefully, silently on a fallen log, eavesdropping on a prayer by a girl he told himself he wanted nothing to with. Yet she would not leave his mind ever since the date last night ended. There was no doubt she would discover him when she finished. He got the feeling if he didn’t leave immediately, this was going to end badly. Yet he couldn’t move.  

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part 15)

Imprisonment and death of John the Baptist.

John the Baptist had been first in heralding Christ’s kingdom, and he was also the first in suffering.

The life of John had been one of active labor, and the gloom and inaction of his prison life weighed heavily upon him. As week after week passed, bringing no change, despondency and doubt crept over him.

Like the Savior’s disciples, John the Baptist did not understand the nature of Christ’s kingdom. He expected Jesus to take the throne of David; and as time passed, and the Savior made no claim to kingly authority, John became perplexed and troubled.

To the desert prophet all this seemed a mystery beyond his fathoming. There were hours when the whisperings of demons tortured his spirit, and the shadow of a terrible fear crept over him.

John’s disciples came to Jesus with their message, “Art You He that should come, or do we look for another?” How short  the time since the Baptist had pointed to Jesus, and proclaimed, “Behold the Lamb of God, which takes away the sin of the world.”

Jesus was keenly disappointed. If John, the faithful forerunner, failed to discern Christ’s mission, what could be expected from the self-seeking multitude?

The evidence of Jesus’s divinity was seen in it’s adaptation to the needs of suffering humanity. His glory was shown in His condescension to our low estate.

God spoke to the prophet by “a still small voice.” (1 Kings 19:11, 12) So Jesus was to do His work, not with the clash of arms and the overturning of thrones and kingdoms, but through speaking to the hearts of men by a life of mercy and self-sacrifice.

John had been called to reprove the sins and excesses of his time, and his plain dress and self-denying life were in harmony with the character of his mission. Rich apparel and the luxuries of this life are not the portion of God’s servants.

Understanding more clearly now the nature of Christ’s mission, John yielded himself to God for life or for death, as should best serve the interests of the cause he loved.

It is moral worth that God values. Love and purity are the attributes He prizes most.

The revels of one night cost the life of one of the greatest of the prophets.

The sinner’s own thoughts are his accusers; and there can be no torture keener than the stings of a guilty conscience.

Jesus did not interpose to deliver His servant. He knew that John would bear the test. Gladly would the Savior come to John, to brighten the dungeon gloom with His own presence. But He was not to place Himself in the hands of enemies and imperil His own mission. Gladly would He have delivered His faithful servant. But for the sake of thousands who in after years must pass from prison to death, John was to drink the cup of martyrdom.

“Unto you is given on the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on Him, but also to suffer for His sake.” (Philippians 1:29)

Of all the gifts Heaven can bestow upon humanity, fellowship with Christ in His sufferings is the most weighty trust and the highest honor.

CXXI

LET YOUR HEART CHEER YOU IN THE DAYS OF YOUR YOUTH

ECCLESIASTES 11:9

TRICKY TRIANGLE

CHAPTER 1

In the beginning there were four, two pairs of best friends, all four born in 1946, senior members of the post war baby boom. They had all known each other ever since they could remember. Unfortunately, premature death would eventually remove one of them from their small fellowship.

Petite, feisty brunette Dawn Bird, just over five feet tall, and leggy, redhaired Wendy Lancing, five foot eleven when she stopped inching upward, had become and stayed best friends ever since they were just toddlers, growing up next door to each other.

Hal Storm, dark haired, six foot one, lean and muscular, along with blond haired Ed Parker, one inch under six feet, broad shouldered with a narrow waist above powerful legs, had been best buddies ever since kindergarten.

The two sets friends loved each other like brothers and sisters. But if ever there was a case of opposite attracts, it was the two pairs of pals. Dawn was a diligent, straitlaced girl who got straight A’s. Wendy was a dreamer who hated school and tended to procrastinate. Dawn loved the Beatles, while Wendy preferred the Rolling Stones. Wendy was always bored at church and counted the minutes until it was over. Dawn felt a sense of peace in the sanctuary and felt a little pang of disappointment when the congregation was excused, filing to the exits.

Hal preferred Fords, while Ed chose Chevys. Ed was serious, studious, and orderly, while Hal was laid back, carefree, and mischievous. Ed worked out hard to excel at sports, while Hal’s natural athletic ability led him to start in football, basketball, and baseball with minimal effort. Ed was a Christian apologist, Hal was an agnostic. However, time and life events would flip flop their opposing world views.

Although the foursome all went to school together in a quaint little town called Mayfield, about thirty miles outside of the Twin Cities, the two sets of friends never paid much attention to each other. That is until they reached a certain age, that mysterious time when the opposite sex transforms into something very appealing, rather than simply annoying.

“Guess who’s my lab partner in biology?” Hal asked Ed as they both lit cigarettes while walking to Ed’s 55 Chevy. It was the end of the first day of their senior year in high school. Although it was sunny with a high of seventy five, there was a feeling of autumn in the dry air.

“Jane Mansfield,” Ed replied coolly.

“Even better,” Hal grinned. “Wendy Lancing.”

Ed stopped walking and aimed a sarcastic grin at his friend. “Okay, I give up, what’s the joke?”

“No joke,” Hal said, and then he drew deeply on his Winston, a dreamy look in eyes. “Man, did she ever fill out over the summer. Her shadow’s in the class too.”

“Dawn Bird?”

“That’s the word.”

“So how did you end up at a table with Wendy if Dawn’s in the class?”

“None of us had a choice,” Hal shrugged. “Mr. Jackson assigned the seats. By the way, Dawn’s not too shabby herself.”

“Is that right?” Ed drawled skeptically.

Hal lifted a chin to their right. “See for yourself.”

Ed’s mouth dropped open. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. What happened over the summer?”

“Dawn finally let her hair grow, and Wendy added some nice curves to her willowy frame,” Hal declared.

“Boy, I’ll say,” Ed said as he stared.

“Believe you me, I studied her pretty good during the whole class period,” Hal chuckled.

Ed felt a pang of jealousy over Hal being paired with Wendy. He had always felt drawn to her free spirited personality and pretty face. Now that she had, well, physically matured, he found her irresistible. It seemed his best friend did too.

“If I end up asking Wendy out, will you go out with Dawn?” Hal asked his buddy. “Those two are thick as thieves, so she’s more likely to go out with me if you go out with Dawn.”

Now the pang turned into a piercing jealousy, but Ed snorted coolly. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“What’d ya mean?” Hal frowned.

“I thought you preferred Mary Ann.”

“Mary Ann who?” Hal frowned deeper.

“From ‘Gilligan’s Island’,” Ed explained. “You’ve told me before that you preferred Mary Ann over Ginger. I, on the other hand, prefer Ginger over Mary Ann. Therefore, you should go out with Dawn, and me with Wendy.”

“That’s silly,” Hal laughed. But then he looked at the two young women and became still. “They are a bit similar to Ginger and Mary Ann, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are,” Ed tried. “Dawn’s always been a cutey, but that longer hair only enhances it. Look how nice and tan her legs are too.”

“Yeah, Dawn’s not bad, but there’s a big problem with the ‘Gilligan’s Island’ comparison,” Hal suggested.

“What’s that?”

“Part of Mary Ann’s appeal is her cheery personality. Dawn on the other hand is a prudish crank. You remember the time she narked us off for playing in the gym during recess?”

“Come on, man,” Ed protested. “We were in the fifth grade.”

“Yeah, well, you just had to write fifty sentences about not playing in the gym during recess. For me it was a third strike and I had to write about two hundred sentences in the principles office for an entire week during recesses.”

Ed felt a sense of defeat. But then inspiration struck. Without saying a word to Hal, Ed began a brisk walk to the two girls. Hal had always been the more bold and adventurous of the two buddies, but Ed was taking a page from Hal’s playbook. With a charming smile and a slight bow, he said, “Hello ladies, lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Quite,” Wendy giggled. Dawn just stared at him wordless and expressionless.

“How are you two ladies getting home from this fine educational establishment?” Ed asked, his eyes never leaving Wendy’s. Hal stepped up next to his friend, dumbfounded with his mouth agape.

“The bus,” Wendy replied with a shrug. “Neither of us has a car.”

“Would you care to join Hal and me?” Ed asked. “There is plenty of room for the four of us in my car.”

“That’d be great!” Wendy enthused. “How about it, Dawn?”

Dawn tried a smile, but it was weak. She lifted a shoulder with a slight shrug. “Sure.”

When the foursome approached Ed’s car, he quickly ushered Dawn into the back seat. She felt tense and uneasy as Hal settled next to her. She had had a crush on Hal for years, yet she overcompensated her secret by not only being aloof towards him, but downright cold. She also felt hurt that both boys seemed unable to take their eyes off Wendy.

Yes, her friend was gorgeous, but Dawn wasn’t bad herself. Especially since she had shed her tomboy image over the summer. Her big brown almond shaped eyes and small nose made her cute, but Wendy’s arctic blue eyes, high cheek bones, and long legs made her elegant. Her own legs, although not long, were very nice and very tan. Her skin was silky and feminine. She hiked her skirt above her knee and crossed her right leg over her left. Her black and white saddle shoe pointed toward Hal’s legs. She noticed his eyes lingering on her leg and felt momentarily pleased.

“My name is Hal Storm,” he said with a grin and offered of his hand.

“I know who you are,” she replied sharply and instantly regretted how snotty she sounded. He obviously was clowning around. They’d known each other since kindergarten. But this was the first time he had spoken to her since she had told on him and Ed for playing in the gym during recess more than half a decade ago.

Why did she do that anyway? Why did she always have to be such a brat? Some sense of power? Some feeling of being right? No wonder she was always so lonely. Except for Wendy. But now that Wendy had blossomed from a gangly nerd into a beautiful young woman, she feared their lifelong friendship would slip away. Most likely to a boy.

Hal withdrew his hand and folded his arms. He stared straight ahead, longing to punch his former best friend in the nose. It was a long ten minute ride as Hal and Dawn rode in silence, listening to Wendy and Ed chat merrily.

When they arrived at Dawn’s house, she anxiously waited for Wendy to move her seat forward so she could scrabble quickly out of Ed’s Chevy two door. But Wendy didn’t move under Ed’s command to “Wait a minute.”

Ed looked at Hal, who shook his head no. Then Ed turned his gaze to Wendy. He did his best imitation of Hal’s laid back grin and asked. “Would you fine ladies like to go on a double date with Hal and me this Saturday evening? There’s a band playing at Green Square Park.”

“Sure!” Wendy blurted. “That would be fun! How about it, Dawn?”

A surge of terror ripped through Dawn. Her heart started racing, and she glance at Hal. He was staring at Ed with a stunned expression. Dawn’s fright turned to an overwhelming sadness. She felt like she would never fit in, no matter how she tried to transform herself. Her lip began to tremble, and she fought against tears, especially when Hal turned his gaze upon her. “Oh, I…Um. I don’t think so,” she stammered

“Why?” Wendy asked with a frown.

She felt a tear pop out of her eye and she wiped angrily at it. She then tried to cover herself. “My allergies are bad, especially at night.”

“What allergies?” Wendy whined. “I’ve never known you to have bad allergies.”

Dawn felt betrayed. She needed to get out of this car before she actually started balling. She was about to bark a demand at her former best friend, but Hal spoke up.

“Why don’t we just go together, Dawn?” he said.

Dawn stared at Hal wide eyed. She couldn’t get herself to speak. Did one of the cutest boys in class, if not the cutest, just say he actually wanted to go out with her? Was this going to be a sympathy date? She didn’t care. She didn’t want to be home all alone, while Wendy and Ed went out on a date. Probably with Hal and a cheerleader.

“Really?” Dawn asked meekly.

“Yes, really,” Hal smiled.

“But you don’t even like me,” Dawn blurted, and then cringed. Why couldn’t she control her tongue? James 3:8 was absolutely right that a tongue is an unruly evil. Whether she was telling on someone or telling them off, her mouth had never done her any favors.

“Who says I don’t like you?” Hal chuckled.

“You haven’t spoken to me ever since the, um, the gym incident.”

“We were kids,” Hal shrugged. “Besides, I don’t remember us having many conversations before that anyway.”

Dawn folded her arms, but tried to gaze at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Are you going out with me just because Ed wants you to?”

“No, I heard you were easy.” Hal joked before he could stop himself.

Ed felt his toes curl, and Wendy’s mouth gaped open. Dawn’s feisty demeanor returned, and she barked. “I don’t think so! I’ll have you know, I’m saving myself for marriage.”

Hal laughed. Now Wendy’s toes curled, and Ed’s jaw dropped open. Dawn wanted to slap herself. Why could she not ever keep her mouth shut when she was angry or scared?

“Fair enough, let’s see if you’re worth waiting for then. Saturday will be a start.”

Dawn opened her mouth to tell Hal to take a flying leap. But then she closed it, intrigued. Was he serious? Could he actually be a gentleman who might want to court her properly?

“You never answered me,” Dawn asked mildly. “Are you going out with me because Ed wants you to?”

“No, I’m not,” Hal said and then he gave her a playful smile. “I want to see if the angry tomboy is becoming a sweet young lady.”

Emotions swirled in Dawn’s heart and mind. She didn’t know if she was being toyed with, or if Hal truly did like her. Her old protective nature tried to give him a hard stare. But he was so cute and fun she fought against a smile.

“Now what’s that playing at your lips,” Hal provoked, touching a corner of her mouth so lightly that it tickled. Dawn gave in and laughed, and Hal joined her. Ed and Wendy sighed inwardly with relief, grinning at each other.

Hal glared at Ed as they drove away from Wendy’s house. “Talk about a double cross!”

Ed looked at Hal, surprised. “You seemed to get along with Dawn just fine. At the end anyway.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot.”

“You would have done the same thing if you thought of it first,” Ed defended.

“That’s beside the point,” Hal said as he casually lit a cigarette.

“Are you really mad?”

“Naw, I meant what I said to Dawn,” Hal replied. “I will be mad if Wendy’s not saving herself for marriage too, though.”

“I just won’t tell you then,” Ed said with a coy smile.

“You won’t be able to help yourself.”

Both boys laughed. Then Hal frowned in thought. What if Dawn was still that angry tomboy inside, hiding behind that lovely, vulnerable, female façade? Oh well, it was worth finding out.

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part 14)

Bethesda and the Sanhedrin.

Jesus was again at Jerusalem. At the pool of healing, Jesus saw one case of supreme wretchedness. It was that of a man severely handicapped for thirty-eight years. Alone and friendless, feeling that he was shut out from God’s mercy, the sufferer had passed long years of misery.

“Will you be made whole?” Jesus asked him.

“Sir, I have no man when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool. But while I am coming, another steps down before me.”

Jesus does not ask the suffer to exercise faith in Him. He simply says, “Rise, take up your bed and walk.” But the man’s faith takes hold upon those words. Every nerve and muscle thrills with new life. Without question he sets his will to obey the command of Christ. Springing to his feet, he finds himself an active man.

Through the same faith we may receive spiritual healing. By sin we have been severed from the life of God. Our souls are palsied. Of ourselves we are no more capable of living a holy life than was the impotent man capable of walking. Let these desponding, struggling ones look up. The Savior is bending over the purchase of His blood, and saying with inexpressible tenderness and pity. “Will you be made whole?”

Do not wait to feel that you are made whole. Believe His word and it will be fulfilled. Put your will on the side of Christ. Will to serve Him, and in acting upon His word you will receive strength.

So utterly was Christ emptied of self that He made no plans for Himself. He accepted God’s plans for Him, and day by day the Father unfolded His plans. So should we depend upon God, that our lives may be the simple outworking of His will.

The spirit of life in Christ Jesus, “the power of His resurrection,” sets humanity “free from the law of sin and death.” Phil. 3:10, Rom 8:2. The dominion of evil is broken and through faith the soul is kept from sin. He who opens the heart to the Spirit of Christ becomes a partaker of that mighty power which shall bring forth his body from the grave.

The highest religious authorities of the nation were seeking the life of Him who declared Himself the restorer of Israel. The Lord of the Sabbath was arraigned before an earthly tribunal to answer the charge of breaking the Sabbath law.

The rulers themselves had felt deep condemnation as He had pressed their guilt home upon their consciences; yet this only made them the more bitter against Him. They were determined to take His life. They sent messengers all over the country to warn the people against Jesus as an imposter. Spies were sent to watch Him, and report what He said and did.

The precious Savior was now most surely standing under the shadow of the cross.

CXX

HUMBLE YOURSELVES IN THE SIGHT OF THE LORD, AND HE WILL LIFT YOU UP

JAMES 4:10

TRICKY TRIANGLE

INTRODUCTION

SEVEN SALLIE

“Did you look everything over? Did you read it?” Destiny asked me, then glanced at Brock, who is her husband and my cousin.

Destiny was referring to some journals, pictures, and diaries we received from another cousin that Brock and I both shared. Hailey Storm is a successful doctor and the daughter of Hal Storm. Uncle Hal is the elder brother of my mother and Brock’s father.

“Yeah, it was pretty interesting,” I replied.

“Do you think you’d want to do it for your podcast?” she asked.

“It’s too long,” I declared. “Besides, it’s more of a tragedy than a story of redemption.”

“A tragedy?” Destiny responded. “Look how well Hailey turned out. Also how harmonious the three friends ended up getting along despite a complex love triangle.”

“I have to admit that part blew me away,” I replied. “Uncle Hal’s devout Christian character was one of the things that influenced me coming to Christ the first time, when I was eighteen. He was like one of those old fashioned T.V. dads. I had no idea he was embroiled in a strange love triangle for many years.

“Nobody did,” Brock said with a chuckle. “That’s why it was called a secret. Besides, aren’t all love triangles strange and complex? I’ll never forget the chaos in my mind as I was falling in love with Dee while I was still with Nora. And ours wasn’t actually a triangle since we did nothing untoward.”

“Untoward?” I repeated, Brock saying that word making me chuckle.

“We weren’t completely innocent,” Dee admitted. “Although it was extremely  complicated falling in love with another woman’s guy while at the same time coming to the Lord.”

“Right, that’s why I say we did nothing,” Brock paused, glanced at me with hooded eyes.  “Untoward.”

“What about the jumbotron kiss at the baseball game?” Destiny suggested.

“That couldn’t be helped,” Brock said. “We were put on the spot. Besides, it was just a quick, innocent peck.”

“Well, what about the tea incident? That was more than just an innocent peck,” Destiny insisted.

“Yeah, we did kiss passionately for a minute, but we stopped. We never became, um, intimate.”

“What tea incident?” I asked.

“I thought you read the e-book ‘Knight Storm,’” Destiny said with a frown.

“I did.”

“Bentley put Twisted Tea in a pitcher and we thought it was, you know, normal tea,” Destiny explained.

“Oh yeah, I remember now,” I replied and then chuckled. “That was also where Bentley jumped out at you guys wearing a hideous mask and you wet…”

“That’s right you remember then,” Destiny said, cutting me off and giving me a stern look. Then changing the subject, she said, “Can you imagine poor Hailey not finding out her true parentage until she just a month ago?”

“And the way she found out,” I added.

“Wait, I missed something,” Brock said. “How’d she find out?”

“You know, Sweetie. She found those pictures that were taken when she was a baby. She discovered them after her parents went into the nursing home last month,” Destiny said.

“That’s why she confronted Auntie,” I added.

“Then her mom unloaded the whole story as if being freed from a heavy weight,” Destiny said. “And your Uncle Hal even divulged his two cents worth during moments of clarity.”

Our Uncle was in the nursing home due to Alzheimer’s disease, and our Aunt had had a debilitating stroke. On the positive side, they were still together.

“So, how about you write it for the blog?” Destiny asked.

“Why not you?” I asked.

“It’s too long. There’s enough for a novella, if not more,” she replied.

“I know, that’s why I don’t want to write it,” I said. “I have enough irons in the fire.”

“How about we contact Johnathan Embers to write their story?” Destiny asked.

“That hack?” I blurted.

“Oh, you just don’t like the way you were portrayed early in this blog,” Brock said.

“But look how he depicted Sevenia,” Destiny said. “Who doesn’t love your daughter?”

“Yeah, I guess he’s okay,” I replied. “I’ll give him a call.”

So we passed the journals, pictures, and diaries over to Johnny. He also went to visit our Aunt and Uncle, as well as having conversations with Dr. Hailey Storm. He also talked to our other two cousins, Hailey’s much older brothers. As it turns out, they were her half-brothers.

Embers is going to post the first chapter next week. He was also adamant that Destiny keep posting her Bible study notes after each chapter, especially since this is a tale heavier on human struggle compared to spiritual inspiration.

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part 13)

On the way to Galilee Jesus passed through Samaria. At the opening of a valley, the Vale of Shechem, was Jacob’s well. Wearied with His journey, Jesus sat down here to rest while His disciples went to buy food.

A woman of Samaria approached and seemed unconscious of His presence. As she turned to leave, Jesus asked her for a drink. The hatred between the Jews and the Samaritans prevented the woman from offering a kindness to Jesus; but the Savior was seeking to find the key to this woman’s heart. With a tact born of divine love, He asked, not offered, a favor.

The woman saw that Jesus was a Jew. In her surprise she forgot to grant His request, but tried to learn the reason for it. “How is it,” she said, “that You, being a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a Samaritan?”

Jesus answered, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that says, give Me a drink; you could have asked Him, and He would have given you living water.”

HOW MANY THIRSTY SOULS ARE TODAY CLOSE BY THE LIVING FOUNTAIN, YET LOOKING FAR AWAY FOR THE WELLSPRING OF LIFE!

He who seeks to quench his thirst at the fountain of this world will drink only to thirst again. Everywhere people are unsatisfied. They long for something to supply the need of the soul. Only One can meet that want. The need of the world is Christ. The divine grace which He alone can impart, is as living water, purifying, refreshing, and invigorating the soul.

Our redeemer is an inexhaustible fountain. We may drink, and drink again, and ever find a fresh supply.

Jesus desired to lift the thoughts of the Samaritan woman above matters of form and ceremony, and questions of controversy. “The hour comes,” He said, “and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth. For the Father seeks such to worship Him. God is a spirit, and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth.”

Jesus read the secrets of her life; yet she felt that He was her friend, pitying and loving her. While the very purity of His presence condemned her sins, He had spoken no denunciation, but had told her of His grace that could renew the soul.

To minister to a hungering soul and thirsting for the truth was more grateful to Him than eating or drinking. It was a comfort, a refreshment to Him.

The Pharisees despised the simplicity of Jesus. They ignored His miracles, yet demanded a sign that He was the Son of God. But the Samaritans asked for no sign, and Jesus performed no miracles among them, save in revealing the secrets of her life to the woman at the well.

Jesus had begun to break down the partition wall between Jew and Gentile, and to preach salvation to the whole world. Though He was a Jew, He mingled freely with the Samaritans, which set at naught the Pharisaic customs of His nation.

Those who call themselves His followers may despise and shun the outcast ones; but no circumstance of birth or nationality, no condition of life, can turn away God’s love from the human race. To every soul, however sinful, Jesus says, “If you would have asked Me, I would have given you living water.”

Wherever hearts are open to receive the truth, Christ is ready to instruct them. He reveals to them the Father, and the worship acceptable to Him who reads the heart.

Jesus was faint and weary, yet He did not neglect the opportunity of speaking to one woman, though she was a stranger, an alien from Israel, and living in open sin.

He who drinks of the living water becomes a fountain of life. The receiver becomes a giver. The grace of Christ in the soul is like a spring in the desert.

CXIX

OUT OF THE MOUTH OF BABES AND NURSING INFANTS YOU HAVE PERFECTED PRAISE

MATTHEW 21:16

SEVENIA SALLIE (GIRL PROPHETESS)

Have you ever had special people come into your life, and the bond you feel is so strong that it seems like they’ve always been a part of your life? I’ve felt that with several people, but none so unique as with Oralee Knight-Storm. Our connection was so highly spiritual, yet she was so very young. I was in complete awe at times.

You may think I’m one to talk, being only eighteen and Pastor Samson’s assistant. Who knows, maybe Oralee will be an assistant pastor at ten. Anyhow, she and I had an experience that had to do with an angel Captain Kirk, aka Pastor Samson, claimed to have encountered.

The angel Melanchthon appeared to both of us in a dream. He assured us that everything would be fine with my stepmother, Zella LaStella-Sallie. She had been given a cryptic warning at the murder scene of Oscar Olney, my dad’s old friend. The fortunate thing was that this slaying took place a thousand miles away.

A great blessing was also that my dad’s cousin Brock Storm was guarding us. We therefore were staying as guests at the Knight-Storm residence, Oralee’s adoptive parents. This gave me a lot more time than usual to be with Oralee since we even shared a room. Maybe because of this temporary living arrangement and the surprisingly deep conversations I had been having with the precious nine year-old, we had the similar dream. I would say eerily similar, but it was actually awe inspiring, even as it sent chills up my spine.

“Sevenia, I had a really awesome dream!” Oralee had declared enthusiastically as she leapt off her bed and bounced onto mine. Her smile and twinkle in her big brown eyes caused me to grin. I had barely awakened from my own dream.

Recently, but before our exodus to the Knight-Storm home, I had been shopping with my stepmother. In one of the stores, a certain song caught my attention. It was actually about an adult beverage in a place called Margaritaville. And ironically, a line about a tattoo the person singing had received, apparently while inebriated, made me think of my cherubic young friend. My spiritual sister.

The lyric said, “But she’s a real beauty, a Mexican cutey, and how she got here I haven’t a clue.”

And in some ways I didn’t have a clue. God works in mysterious, wonderful ways. I didn’t fully understand how the beautiful young girl, along with the then sixteen year-old Marcella, seemed to just drop into our lives. When she was only four or five, Oralee’s immigrant parents had died. Oralee then passed through several relatives, and ultimately was sold to human traffickers.

Brave Marcella, who was trafficked from a different coast, under different circumstances, ended up crossing paths with Oralee at a den of iniquity. Unable to stand the thought of Oralee forced into pornography and prostitution, she fled with the little girl into the cold, midwestern winter. It was then that God, through his holy angels, gave me a night vision of the two girls seeking shelter under an abandoned railroad bridge.

Although the dream I shared with Oralee was awe inspiring, I don’t think any dream of mine will be as profound as being led to save the two runaway girls, and ultimately them finding an amazing home with their rescuers. Nonetheless, I get pleasant chills when I think about the parallel night vision I shared with Oralee.

The parts we both remembered weren’t very long, and they both had to do with the murder of Oscar, and the suspected murders of Stacey Porter and Felix Floyd. They also had to do with my family seeking shelter with Oralee’s family. It also had to do with my stepmother’s thumbs. This aspect wasn’t in my particular dream, yet as I watched my sweet little friend dialogue with Zella, I had the most profound DeJa’Vu of my life.

The thing that left me stunned, was that what Oralee said to Zella about her thumbs, she didn’t even know. There was a minor incident that left Zella with a couple of minor injuries. It happened a few days before Oscar’s murder. Zella was taking a batch of cookies out of the oven when she screamed and dropped the cookie pan, causing the oatmeal raisin delights to go scattering across the floor.

It turned out my dad had somehow burned holes in both of the thumbs of the potholder mittens and forgot to tell anybody. Instead of putting them back in the drawer where they were kept, he set them aside, thinking he would somehow mend them.

My stepmother accepted his heart felt apologies, but that didn’t stop the burns from forming blisters. She showed him several times throughout the healing process, causing sheepishness and renewed apologies from my father.

So Oralee and I shared our dreams with our housemates. When we finished, Oralee went to Zella and offered her hands. Zella placed her hands in the lovely little girl’s hands. Then Oralee gripped Zella’s thumbs in her fists, and declared, “By the healing of your thumbs, something righteous this way comes.”

Zella looked stunned, and then looked at me. “Did you tell Ora about my little baking boo boo?”

I shook my head, my face equally stunned. My dad too looked mildly shocked. Destiny, Brock, and Marcella just looked puzzled.

“Did you know I hurt my thumbs a few weeks ago, Princess?” Zella asked Oralee.

“Melanchthon told me to tell you,” Oralee said with a big grin. “He said you hurt your thumbs.”

Everyone looked dumbfounded. We may have even chocked it up to a strange coincidence. However, two days later FBI agent Nora Medora called Brock with some good news, and we knew Oralee’s comment was no coincidence.

“We arrested Carl Rutherford and his brother Chad,” the FBI agent explained. “Forensics found traces of blood in Chad’s car. After he was arrested, he confessed everything. It turns out he’s a major drug addict. His brother got him to help him with his dirty deeds through supplying him with heroin. Once he started geeking without fix, all we had to do was tantalize him with a little sample.”

“Was that ethical?” Brock asked lightheartedly.

“Was killing and threating people to get high ethical?”

And so, the Sallie’s and Knight-Storm’s lived happily ever after. For now, anyhow!

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part 12)

Nicodemus: Since hearing Jesus, Nicodemus had anxiously studied the prophecies relating to the Messiah, and the more he searched, the stronger was his conviction that this was the One who was to come.

In the presence of Christ, Nicodemus felt a strange timidity, which he endeavored  to conceal under an air of composure and dignity.

Nicodemus had come to the Lord thinking to enter into a discussion with Him, but Jesus laid bare the foundation principles of truth. He said to Nicodemus, It is not a theoretical knowledge you need so much as spiritual regeneration. You need not to have your curiosity satisfied, but to have a new heart. You must receive a new life from above before you can appreciate heavenly things.

“Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” (John 3:3)

Surprised out of his self-possession, he answered… “How can a man be born when he is old?” (John 3:4)

The pride of the Pharisee was struggling against the honest desire of the seeker after truth. He wondered that Christ should speak to him as He did, not respecting his position as a ruler in Israel.

The Christian’s life is not a modification of the old, but a transformation of nature. There is a death to self and sin, and a new life altogether. This change can be brought about only by the effectual working of the Holy Spirit.

“The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.” (John 3:8)

The wind is heard among the branches of the trees, rustling the leaves and flowers; yet it is invisible. So with the work of the Holy Spirit upon the heart. It can no more be explained than can the movements of the wind.

By an agency as unseen as the wind, Christ is constantly working upon the heart. Little by little, perhaps unconsciously to the receiver, impressions are made that tend to draw the soul to Christ.

When the Spirit of God takes possession of the heart, it transforms the life. Sinful thoughts are put away, evil deeds are renounced. Love, humility, and peace take the place of anger, envy, and strife. Joy takes the place of sadness, and the countenance reflects the light of heaven.

It is impossible for finite minds to comprehend the work of redemption. Its mystery exceeds human knowledge; yet he who passes from death to life realizes that it is a divine reality. The beginning of redemption we may know here through personal experience. Its results reach through the eternal ages.

Jesus explained that His mission on earth was to establish a spiritual instead of a temporal kingdom.

How the are we to be saved? “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:14, 15)

So the Son of Man has been lifted up, and everyone who has been deceived and bitten by the serpent may look and live.

“Behold the lamb of God which takes away the sin of the world.” (John 1:29)

The light shining from the cross reveals the love of God. His love is drawing us to Himself. If we do not resist this drawing, we shall be led to the foot of the cross in repentance for the sins that have crucified the Savior. Then the Spirit of God through faith produces a new life in the soul. The thoughts and desires are brought into obedience to the will of Christ. The heart, the mind, are created anew in the image of Him who works in us to subdue all things to Himself. Then the law of God is written in the mind and heart.

“I delight to do they will, oh my God, and your law is within my heart.” (Psalm 40:8)

CXVIII

GOD HAS NOT GIVEN US A SPIRIT OF FEAR, BUT OF POWER AND LOVE AND OF A SOUND MIND

2 TIMOTHY 1:7

DESTINY KNIGHT-STORM

From our living room, Brock and I kept glancing at FBI agent Nora Medora and his cousin’s wife Zella LaStella, talking at our kitchen table. It occurred to me that both women had recently confided a secret to me. I was left with a sense of unease. Not that I was harboring their secrets, but concern for the two women and what their secrets meant.

Nora, who also happened to be my husband’s ex, had disclosed that she recently came very close to ending her own life. On the same day she entrusted me with this information, my husband’s and Nora’s old friend Benito “Tito” Bonnano showed up at our house. His presence seemed to work like an anti-depressant on Nora. The three old friends talked, laughed, and reminisced. Then Nora and Tito spontaneously decided to vacation in Florida together.

Yesterday, former model and fortune teller, Zella LaStella-Sallie, acknowledged previously having an association with the most evil person I have ever personally known, Jezebel Black. Although this news was unsettling, by the grace of God, I did not hold it against her. No, I sympathized with her shame, and now feared that Jezebel was somehow out to get her.

I had first became acquainted with Jezebel more than fifteen years ago when we were both exotic dancers in the Twin Cities. Brock was a bouncer at one of the clubs we both frequented. Jezebel had helped a small time mob boss get into my apartment, where he attempted to rape, and possibly murder me. Thankfully, Brock somehow had become privy to their scheme and saved me.

Brock and I had gone our separate ways after that. He moved to Florida after being hired by a high end security firm. I moved to California to become a model and actress in adult entertainment. Then a decade later, Brock and I crossed paths in a small church in Iowa. Coincidence? I don’t think so. God works in marvelous and mysterious ways!

(Brock’s and my romance is chronicled in the e-book ‘Knight Storm’ by Johnathan Embers.)

Right about the time Brock and I became reacquainted, the mob boss got out of prison, and he and Jezebel sought revenge. It was also around this time that Jezebel laid plans to sacrifice her young, virgin sister in a satanic, pagan ritual. Nora Medora had caught wind of Jezebel’s intentions and solicited the help of Brock and me.

Nora wiggled her finger at Brock and me in a nonverbal communication for us to join her and Zella at the kitchen table.

“Okay, so,” Nora began, and then looked around. “Where’s Seven, he should be here?”

“I’m here,” came Seven’s voice from just outside the kitchen. “I was putting the baby to sleep.”

“What, did you play him excerpts from your podcast?” Brock joked.

“Of course not,” Seven replied. “I wanted him to sleep, not be riveted with interesting content from my show.”

“Where are the girls?” Nora asked, inquiring about Oralee, Marcella, and Sevenia.

“They’re up in one of the bedrooms playing dominos,” I replied.

“That’s good,” Nora said. “No need to spook them, after all, we are dealing with at least one psychopath, probably two or more. Which could work in our favor.”

“Why would more psychopaths work in our favor?” Seven asked with a frown.

“It’s similar to the old adage,” Nora said with a little smirk. “Can three people keep a secret? Yes, if two are dead.”

“In other words, it will be harder for multiple people to continue covering their tracks,” Brock said.

“Bingo,” Nora said. “Plus, Zella has helped me develop a lead.”

“Is that right?” Seven asked, glancing at his wife. Zella looked away from him and began to fiddle nervously with a rubber band.

“Brock and Destiny, you know I was undercover in Jezebel’s cult,” Nora said. Brock and I acknowledged that we did, and she continued. “And Zella here has admitted dabbling with Jezebel’s cult herself.”

“She what!” Seven barked as he looked at his wife in stunned disbelief.

Zella’s lips pursed and her eyes remained downcast as she watched the rubber band whirl around her fingers.

“You didn’t tell him last night?” I asked Zella quietly.

“I wanted to,” she said. “But the time never seemed right for one reason or another.”

“You dabbled with satanism?” Seven asked incredulously.

“No, I did not,” Zella said defiantly. “I thought Jezebel was into magic and witchcraft, which I know is bad enough. But as soon as I perceived she was into devil worship, I did a complete about face.”

“You were into witchcraft?” Seven frowned. “Like casting spells on people?”

“Babe, you knew I worked as a psychic before my conversion,” Zella said gently. “Do you really think I was consulting the Bible back then? And no, I didn’t intend to cast spells on people.”

“Tell them the other part of the lead,” Nora petitioned Zella.

Zella glanced nervously at me, then Brock, and then back to her husband. “Babe, do you remember when you saved me from that knife wielding lunatic two years ago?”

“Let’s see,” Seven said with a frown, scratched his head, and then widened his eyes. “Oh, you mean when I was almost stabbed to death? Yes, I do believe I recall that.”

“Do you have to joke about everything?” Zella asked with a sad, rather than angry expression.

“I don’t have to, I guess, but jesting just comes to me and I let it flow.”

“Well, hold it in once in a while,” Zella replied, more angry than sad this time.

“I’m sorry, Honey,” Seven said, seeming sincere as he took his wife’s hand. “I’m also well aware you lost Free in that chaos.”

Zella nodded and appeared to be holding back tears. Free was her dog, a beautiful chocolate Lab that was rescued from an abusive situation.

“Now, what about the lunatic that attacked us?” Seven urged.

“His name is Carl Rutherford,” Zella said. “He wasn’t simply a client of mine. We got to know each other when I attended some of Jezebel’s meetings. I didn’t realize he was obsessed with me when I took him on as a client.”

“When he was arrested after attacking you guys,” Nora interjected. “Typical of psychopaths, he had a room devoted to Zella.”

“Isn’t he still in prison?” Seven asked.

“Interestingly, he was released just a couple weeks before Felix and Stacey were killed,” Nora informed us. “The catch is, he has to wear a tracking device for his probation. He can’t leave the area, so he probably couldn’t have been directly involved with the killings.”

“You say probably,” Brock said.

“Well, it would be extremely difficult to find a way around a tracking device,” Nora shrugged. “But who knows.”

“What’s next?” Brock asked. “Do you have a plan?”

Nora sighed. “Until we know more, I’d like you to keep the Sallie family on high security. My next step is to locate Rutherford, and bring him in for questioning.”

The FBI agent left a half hour later. Not long after her departure, the girls came downstairs and joined us in the kitchen for supper. After our meal, Sevenia and Marcella helped me with the dishes. I perceived that something was on Sevenia’s mind.

Sure enough, when we finished, Sevenia lingered after Marcella left to join the others in the living room.

“Dee, can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course you can, Sweetie,” I replied cheerfully. “My ears are always open to you.”

I figured she wanted to talk about concerns with the case. Instead, she told me about a dream she had the previous evening. The night vision did have to do with the ordeal we found ourselves in.

“The thing is, Dee, Oralee had the same dream.”

I felt my pulse quicken. “You and Ora had the same exact dream?”

“Well, not exactly the same, but similar,” she replied uneasily. “The most interesting thing was the main character in both of our dreams.”

“Who was that?” I asked earnestly.

“The angel Melanchthon.”

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part XI)

The Temple: The money changing in the temple gave opportunity for fraud  and extortion, and it had grown into a disgraceful traffic, which was a source of revenue for the priests.

The dealers demanded exorbitant prices for the animals sold, and they shared their profits with the priests and rulers, who thus enriched themselves at the expense of the people.

As Jesus came into the temple, He took in the whole scene. He saw the unfair transactions. He saw the distress of the poor, who thought that without the shedding of blood there could be no forgiveness for their sins.

Among them unrecognized and unhonored, stood the One symbolized by all their service.

As Jesus beheld the scene, indignation, authority, and power are expressed in His countenance. The attention of the people is attracted to Him. The eyes of those engaged in their unholy traffic are riveted on His face. They feel this Man reads their inmost thoughts.

Looking upon Christ, they behold divinity flash through the garb of humanity. The Majesty of heaven stands as the Judge will stand at the last day. Slowly descending the steps, and raising the scourge of cords, He bids the company to depart from the temple.

With a zeal and severity He has never before manifested, he overthrows the tables. Coins fall, ringing sharply on the marble pavement. None question His authority or stop to pick up their ill gotten gain. Jesus does not smite them with the whip of cords, but in His hand that simple scourge seems as terrible as a flaming sword.

Even the disciples tremble. They are awestruck by the words and manner of Jesus, so unlike His usual demeanor.

In cleansing the temple, Jesus was announcing His mission as the Messiah, and entering upon His work.

In cleansing the temple from the world’s buyers and sellers, Jesus announced His mission to cleanse the heart from the defilement of sin. From the earthly desires, the selfish lusts, the evil habits, that corrupt the soul.

“Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If anyone defiles the temple of God, God will destroy him. For the temple of God is holy, which temple you are.” (1 Corinthians 3:16, 17)

Why did the priests flee from the temple? Why did they not stand their ground? After all, He who commanded them to go was a carpenter’s son, a poor Galilean, without earthly rank or power. Or so they thought.

It was because Christ discerned their thoughts that they hated Him. His public rebuke was humiliating to their pride, and they were jealous of His growing influence with the people.

Jesus had shown them a sign. In flashing light into their hearts, and in doing before them the works which the Messiah was to do, He had given convincing evidence of His character. Now when they asked for a sign, He answered them by a parable, showing that He read their malice, and saw to what lengths it would lead them. “Destroy this temple,” he said, “And in three days I will raise it up.”

In these words, His meaning was twofold. He referred not only to the destruction of the Jewish temple and worship, but to His own death, the destruction of the temple of His body. This the Jews were already plotting. As the priests and rulers returned to the temple, they had proposed to kill Jesus, and thus rid themselves of the troubler.

The entire plan of sacrificial worship was a foreshadowing of the Savior’s death to redeem the world.

When Christ was crucified, the inner veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom, signifying that the great final sacrifice had been made, and that the system of sacrificial offerings was forever at an end. (The veil was also several inches thick)

While Jesus ministers in the sanctuary above, He is still by His Spirit the minister of the church on earth.

“Wherefore He is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him, seeing He ever lives to make intercession for them.” (Hebrews 7:25)

“Seeing then that we have a great High Priest, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession. For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weakness, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:14-16)

CXVII

THE LORD IS FAITHFUL, WHO WILL ESTABLISH YOU AND GUARD YOU FROM THE EVIL ONE

2 THESSALONIANS 3:3

DESTINY KNIGHT-STORM

“I suppose Brock’s FBI agent friend is gonna want to talk to me,” Zella LaStella-Sallie declared as I helped her settle into her room. Her normally calm, pleasant face looked forlorn. Her striking ebony cheekbones almost seemed to droop under her lovely dark eyes.

Her husband’s friend Oscar had been brutally murdered, and the killer, or killers, left a cryptic message warning that Zella may be in danger herself. One small consolation was that the heinous crime happened one thousand miles away. Another comfort was that there seemed to be no sign of danger when Oscar was being protected by my husband Brock, a former professional bodyguard. The Sallie family were now under his watch care themselves and taking up temporary residence in our home.

“Yes, I suppose she will,” I said light heartedly. “But you needn’t worry, you are a potential victim, not a perpetrator.”

I winced at calling her a potential victim, but she didn’t seem to bat an eye.

“There is something…” Zella began, then stopped and gazed at me cautiously.

“Something?” I gently pushed.

“It’s probably nothing,” Zella said, and then emitted a nervous chuckle.

“What’s probably nothing? Do you think you might know something about Oscar’s murder?”

“No, no nothing like that,” she stammered, then looked at the floor and scratched her temple with one finger. Then she looked up at me. “Well, maybe. Can I tell you something in confidence?”

“Okay.”

“No, not okay,” she responded with agitation. This took me by surprise. Zella was one of the most calm, dignified people I have ever known. “Yes or no, can you keep a secret?”

I wanted to tell her yes, but my husband and I were very open and honest with each other. I feared keeping secrets due to the risk of slippage. Then again, if anyone can tick a lock, it was Brock.

“Oh, I’ll just tell you,” she snorted. “I intend on being forthcoming with the FBI lady anyway.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Zella. My hesitancy was just a fear of letting something slip to Brock.”

“Brock is anything but a blabber mouth,” Zella said, and thankfully smiled. “Now MY husband on the other hand would probably make it known on his podcast.”

“Seven doesn’t know this secret of yours?” I asked.

She shook her head. “If he ever would have asked, or it would somehow have come up, I would have been honest. Oh well, it’s just something I’m not proud of. I didn’t commit a crime or anything. I guess if I would have accepted a certain invitation, I might have been an accessory to murder.”

“Murder! What murder?”

Zella’s dark brown eyes looked startled as she gazed into mine. “The murder of Bentley Bonnano.”

A chill ran up my spine, and I could feel hairs prickle on my neck. “You almost attended Jezebel Black’s attempted satanic sacrifice of her own sister?”

(This incident occurred in Johnathan Ember’s e-book ‘Knight Storm’. Amy Autumn was kidnapped by her sister’s satanic cult, and Brock, his friend Bentley, and Amy’s future husband Dirk endeavored to rescue her. In the process, sweet, goofy Bentley Bonnano was mortally wounded.)

“I had no idea that she intended to sacrifice a virgin,” Zella responded emphatically. “All she had told me was that it was a special black mass.”

“I don’t understand,” I replied with a frown. “Were you a part of Jezebel’s cult?”

Zella vigorously shook her head. “No, but she and I did have a brief… I don’t know, what were we? We weren’t exactly friends, yet we did become, briefly, more than acquaintances. And yes, I did attend a few of her meetings.”

“So you actually dabbled with satanism?”

“No, I did not. It’s hard to explain.”

“I’m listening,” I said, and then cringed inwardly as I reminded myself of Frasier Crane.

“I met Jezebel at a new age shop,” she explained. “We were both looking at tarot cards. She struck up a conversation with me. I was quite knowledgeable about tarot cards, and she was just learning. She was quite knowledgeable about ancient paganism, pagan rituals, spells, and such. These were things I was interested in, but I didn’t know too much about.

“So we started to hang out. I taught her about tarot readings, and she taught me about sorcery. I was interested in magic and wanted to become, I don’t know, spiritually enlightened, or powerful, or something. But then she started to bring up devil stuff, and strange rituals drinking blood, so I began to distance myself. Then the whole thing went down with that attempted satanic sacrifice, and Bentley Bonnano getting killed, and I dropped her like a hot potato. Which wasn’t too hard since she ended up in jail.”

“What about Lexi Gomez?” I asked, inquiring about her affiliation with Jezebel’s sister during her fortune telling days, and then Lexi’s subsequent deliverance from demon possession.

“It was more than a year after the satanic ritual incident when Lexi came to me for a psychic reading for the first time,” Zella replied.

“Did you know each other from your association with Jezebel?” I asked.

“No,” she responded shaking her head, her shoulder length braids swaying back and forth. “But the truth came out pretty quick when she first consulted me. First of all, she and Jezebel looked quite a bit like sisters. Second, she told me that she had been involved with the cult that killed Bentley, and that her sister was in prison. Pretty easy to put together.”

“But you never told Lexi that you knew her sister?”

“Nope.”

“She never asked.”

“Nope.”

“So she doesn’t know then?”

“If she does, she never let on to me.”

“What about Amy?” I asked, inquiring about the third and youngest of the half-sisters, and the one Jezebel intended to kill in a satanic sacrifice.

Zella bit her lower lip and shook her head, then softly muttered. “Oh no.”

“What’s the matter?”

“This is all gonna come out at some point,” Zella said. “Amy and Lexi are gonna hate me.”

“No, they are not,” I consoled. “They are both genuine, walking in the Spirit Christians. They’ll understand.”

“You’re sort of right, hate is a bit strong. They’re gonna dislike me, though.”

“Well, I don’t feel one bit different about you,” I said as I took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I appreciate that,” Zella replied with a forced smile as she returned a gentle squeeze. “But it wasn’t your twisted sister I got chummy with, and then kept it secret.”

“Zella, I would have done the same thing as you,” I reassured her. “Who wants to admit to hanging out with a psychopath?”

“But I’m supposed to be converted, and I’ve been harboring a lie of omission,” she lamented.

“Is it a lie of omission?” I asked sincerely. “Are you required to acknowledge everyone you’ve known?”

Zella frowned. “Well, I think if you become friends with someone. Not only friends, but sisters in Christ, you should probably admit to having known their sister. Especially a sister that tried to kill you.”

“Zella, Amy has been something like a daughter to me. Her kids are even unofficially our grandchildren. I know if you explain everything to her, she will love you even more than she already does. Besides, whatever friendship you had with Jezebel in no way harmed either Lexi or Amy, right?”

“You’re right,” she responded with something close to a relieved smile. “I guess everything is just churning around in my head right now.”

We were quite for a long moment before Zella spoke. “You know, when we were dealing with Lexi’s demon possession ordeal, I couldn’t help thinking demons probably had a hold on Jezebel multiple time stronger than Lexi. Yet at times it seemed like Lexi was going to be destroyed as she struggled to be free.”

“Yeah, the same thing has crossed my mind, too.”

“Do you think it’s possible for someone like Jezebel to come to the Lord?”

“All things are possible with God,” I replied. “Mary Madeline had seven demons and ended up being the first to see Jesus after His resurrection. But Jezebel would have to want it. God doesn’t force Himself on anyone. He draws us, and it’s up to as to whether we follow the leading of the Holy Spirit or not.”

“Good points,” Zella nodded.

“Zella, why do you think Jezebel’s going to come up in this Oscar investigation? She’s still in prison, but do you think she is somehow involved?”

Zella shrugged and said. “I’m not one hundred percent certain, but I do know this much.”

She paused, and chewed her lower lip as she contemplated. I prodded her on. “What do you know?”

“That picture of me with the tarot cards at the crime scene,” Zella said and then sighed. “Jezebel took that picture of me the second time we got together.”

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part X)

The Victory

The tempter thought to take advantage of Christ’s humanity, and urge Him into presumption. But while Satan can solicit, he cannot compel to sin.

Not all the power of earth or hell could force Jesus in the slightest degree to depart from the will of His Father.

The tempter can never compel us to do evil. He cannot control minds unless they are yielded to his control. The will must consent, faith must let go its hold upon Christ before Satan can exercise his power upon us.

But every sinful desire we cherish affords him a foothold. Every point in which we fail of meeting the divine standard is an open door by which he can enter to tempt and destroy us. And every failure or defeat on our part gives occasion for him to reproach Christ.

God had already testified that Jesus was His Son; and now to ask proof that he was the Son of God would be putting God’s word to the test, tempting Him.

We should not present our petitions to God to prove whether He will fulfill word; but because He will fulfill it. Not to prove that He loves us, but because He loves us.

“Without faith it is impossible to please Him. For they that come to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.” (Hebrews 11:6)

Presumption is Satan’s counterfeit of faith. Faith claims God’s promises, and brings forth fruit in obedience. Presumption also claims the promises, but uses them as Satan did, to excuse transgression.

God will preserve all who walk in the path of obedience. But to depart from it is to venture on Satan’s ground. There we are sure to fall. The Savior has bidden us, “Watch and pray, lest you enter into temptation. (Mark 14:38). Meditation and prayer would keep us from rushing unbidden into the way of danger, and thus we should be saved from many a defeat.

Satan does not appear as a hideous monster with cloven feet and bat wings. He is a mighty angel, though fallen. He avows himself the leader of rebellion and the god of this world.

Jesus gained the victory through submission and faith in God, and by apostle He says to us. “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” (James 4:7, 8)

Jesus had endured the test, greater than we shall ever be called to endure. The angels now ministered to the Son of God as He lay like one dying. He was strengthened with food, comforted with the message of His Father’s love and the assurance that all heaven triumphed in His victory.

Warming to life again, His great heart goes out in sympathy for humanity, and He goes forth to complete the work He has begun, to not rest until the foe is vanquished, and our fallen race redeemed.

“Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing.” (Revelation 5:12)

CXVI

THE LORD WILL BE A REFUGE FOR THE OPPRESSED, AND A REFUGE IN TIMES OF TROUBLE

PSALM 9:9

BROCK STORM

“Hey Dad, can I tell you something?” Marcella asked as she entered my shop. My seventeen year old adopted daughter had only recently started calling me Dad, and the name made my spirit soar. It was still new enough I had to refrain from asking her to say it again.

“Of course you can tell me something, Marcella,” I replied cheerfully. However, my cheeriness would be short lived.

“Oralee had a dream,” she told me with a wince. “It’s probably nothing. But considering the dream Sevenia had about Ora and me almost a year ago, well… And since Ora is kind of a mini me of Sevenia. And considering one of the subjects of the dream is the guy you are sort of protecting. And considering her dream insinuated he was, um… hurt… badly…”

“You’re talking about Oscar,” I said as my adrenaline began to spike.

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug, as she twisted her long blonde hair nervously. “I just thought you should know. Then you could, I don’t know, watch him a little closer or something.”

“Well,” I said, sighing heavily. “That might be a little tricky.”

“How come?”

“He’s a thousand miles away.”

“Huh? How can that be? I just saw him this morning.”

“He flew back home to New Jersey early this afternoon.”

“Oh no, Daddy, do you think he’s in trouble?”

Normally I would have relished Marcella calling me Daddy, but I felt a growing apprehension with the direction of our conversation.

“I don’t know, Honey,” I replied with a calmness I didn’t feel. A year ago I would have scoffed at a dream indicating real trouble. But after Sevenia’s dream about Marcella and Oralee living in a ramshackle tent under an abandoned railroad bridge, I needed to take my daughter’s nightmare seriously.

“Why did he go home, how come you aren’t guarding him anymore? I thought he was in danger.”

“Well, Oscar was getting restless, and nothing dangerous seemed to be happening. I consulted Agent Medora, and she said to go ahead and let him go if he wanted to go. She said to just make sure he knows that a risk still exists, and to be careful.”

Marcella began to chew on her lower lip, and her eyes looked concerned.

“Why don’t you tell me Oralee’s entire dream?” I petitioned.

She did. When she finished, she asked, “Do you think you should contact Agent Medora?”

“Yeah,” I replied somberly, but I was already reaching for my phone to do just that. When I saw I had a missed call from Nora Medora almost an twenty minutes previous, my toes curled. I pushed dial on the missed call and ten seconds later my ex-girlfriend’s voice was in my ear. She spoke without a greeting, as if we were in the middle of an intense conversation.

“We should have never told Oscar he should go home,” she said heatedly. “You need to have Seven Sallie and his family stay with you ASAP, in particular his wife.”

I could feel the blood drain from my face. “What do you mean?”

“I’m on my way to New Jersey right now, and it’s not good.”

“Is Oscar hurt?”

“I’ll say. He’s dead!”

It now felt like the blood drained from my entire body. “How?”

“Murdered, brutally murdered. There are more than thirty stab wounds.”

“I understand why Seven, and even his family could be in danger. But why did you say in particular Zella?”

“I’ve been told that Oscar’s arms were spread and nailed to the floor, as if he’d been crucified. Nailed to his hands were erotic pictures of Zella LaStella-Sallie. Apparently she had been an adult model around ten years ago. Written in Oscar’s blood over one hand was the word ‘phony,’ over the other was the word ‘hypocrite.’”

“Oh my,” I muttered. Then I glanced at Marcella. Her mouth was agape, and her eyes were wide and frightened. My protective instinct kicked into high gear. “Hang on a second, Nora.”

I held out an arm to Marcella. She made a little squeak and slammed her body into mine, her slender arms wrapping around my body and squeezed tight. She began to whimper. I hugged her to myself, and said, “Nobody’s gonna hurt one of my daughters, okay?”

She sniffed, and with a small, girlish voice said, “Okay.”

“Brock, did one of your daughter’s overhear us talking?” Nora asked.  

“Yeah, Marcella.”

“Let me talk to her,” Nora demanded. I handed Marcella the phone and the two exchanged tense greetings. Then Nora endeavored to comfort my daughter. “Listen, your dad was a professional bodyguard for more than a decade. Not only that, he was the best of the best. You may not realize it, but that big farmhouse you live in has tighter security than a bank. So take courage, and trust your dad, okay?”

The word “was” echoed in my head.

“Okay,” Marcella said, and smiled at me fondly, even as a tear came from her eye. “But I’m still gonna feel sad for Oscar.”

“That’s understandable,” Agent Medora said. And, not one for strong sentiment, said, “Can you put your dad back on?” Then she said to me, “Hey, I need to let you go for now, an agent on the scene is calling me. I’ll get back to you later.”

Needless to say, my cousin Seven was beyond upset. Not only to find out that his good friend had died, but was brutally murdered. Not to mention the disturbing fact of photographs of his wife, not only at the crime scene, but violently attached to the victim. Plus, the cryptic two word message, phony and hypocrite.

Thankfully, we were able to get the Sallie family settled into our home as smoothly as could be expected. Oralee was delighted to have her hero, Sevenia, staying with us indefinitely. Even though she had something like a prophetic dream about Oscar’s demise, she was mostly, and thankfully, oblivious to the reality of what actually took place.

My wife and Zella were upstairs getting a crib ready for Zella and Seven’s baby. I handed Seven a cup of Relaxed Mind tea and we sat at the kitchen table. I bobbed the bag up and down in my own cup of tea as I groped for something to say. My usually talkative cousin was eerily quiet. You never know how someone is going to handle grief and stress.

Marcella grabbed a sparkling water from the fridge and asked to join us at the table. I looked at Seven. This was his party, even though it was at my house. He shrugged and said, “I have nothing to keep secret. It’s up to you whether you want her to hear what might be said though.”

“Have a seat, kiddo,” I told my daughter.

“Sevenia wanted to join you guys,” Marcella told us with a reluctant smile. “But Oralee is kind of her shadow right now, so Sevenia wanted me to be her ears. If that’s okay?”

“It’s okay with me,” I said, then opened my palm at my cousin. “One more time?”

“Like I said, I have nothing to hide,” Seven said, and then snorted bitterly. “The more the  merrier I guess.”

Marcella averted her eyes and gazed at the table. I took her hand, squeezed gently, and told her, “Under the stress of this situation, Seven may revert to his old obnoxious, sarcastic self, so don’t take anything personally.”

Seven looked at me with startled, angry eyes, then soften as he turned his gaze to Marcella. “He’s right. Under my current mental state, my flippant proclivities may get the best of me. You’re a fine, sweet young lady, Marcella, and your presence at the table here is truly a comfort.”

“Thanks,” Marcella replied shyly.

Our trio at the table was quiet for a long minute, before Seven spoke again. “I just don’t get it. Oscar couldn’t have been home for more than an hour or two when he was attacked. How could his killer have acted so fast?”

“Obviously, they had been keeping tabs on him,” I replied. “Tapping in on someone has come a long way since bugging land lines.”

“You said they,” Seven said. “You think there are more than one involved.”

“I do. I think there was at least someone here, and someone out there. Most likely even more involved.”

“But they never got to him here.”

“I’ve got cameras all over the place, and they must know it.”

We were silent for a short minute when I half asked half commented, “I didn’t know Zella was an adult model.”

“Didn’t you read the e-book, ‘Billy Bob Booker and the Hooker’?” Seven asked.

“I did.”

“Don’t you remember, she and Willa met out on the west coast when they were both modeling.”

“I knew Willa posed for a magazine in her birthday suit, but I didn’t know Zella did.”

“They both did,” Seven shrugged. “Their erotic modeling was mild by today’s low standards, and brief.”

My phone sounded, and it was Nora. Before I answered, I asked, “Speaker?”

Seven nodded. After abrupt greetings, Agent Medora didn’t pull punches. “Put your security on highest alert.”

“Why, what else did you find?” I asked, and I could hear Nora sigh heavily.

“Phony and hypocrite were not the only words written with Oscar’s blood,” she informed us. “His thumbs were cut off, and shoved into his mouth.”

She paused and I asked, “You said something more was written?”

“Yeah,” she said, sighing heavily again. “By the severing of his thumbs, something wicked this way comes, with an arrow pointing at a photo of Zella reading Tarot cards.”

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part VIX)

When Jesus was led into the wilderness to be tempted, He was led by the Spirit of God. He did not invite temptation. He went to the wilderness to be alone, to contemplate His mission and work. By fasting and prayer He was to brace Himself for the bloodstained path he must travel.

Mighty issues for the world were at stake in the conflict between the Prince of light and the leader of the kingdom of darkness. After tempting man to sin, Satan claimed the earth as his, and styled himself the prince of this world.

At the birth of Jesus, Satan knew that One had come with a divine commission to dispute his dominion. Satan well knew the position that Christ had held in heaven as the Beloved of the Father. That the Son of God should come to this earth as a man filled him with amazement and with apprehension. He could not fathom the mystery of this great sacrifice. His selfish soul could not understand such love for the fallen race.

Many look on this conflict between Christ and Satan as having no special bearing on their own life; and for them it has little interest. But within the domain of every human heart this controversy is repeated. Never does one leave the ranks of evil for the service of God without encountering the assaults of Satan.

The enticements which Christ resisted were those that we find so difficult to withstand. They were urged upon Him in a much greater degree as His character is superior to ours. With the terrible weight of the sins of the world upon Him, Christ withstood the test upon appetite, upon the love of the world, and upon that love of display which leads to presumption.

For thousands of years the human race had been decreasing in physical strength, and moral worth; and Christ took upon Him the infirmities of degenerate humanity. Only thus could He rescue man from the lowest depths of his degradation.

As by the indulgence of appetite Adam and Eve fell, so by the denial of appetite Christ must overcome.

Satan sought to instill into the mind of Eve the thought that God would not do as He had said. That the withholding of such beautiful fruit was a contradiction of His love and compassion for man. So now the tempter seeks to inspire Christ with his own sentiments. “If thou be the Son of God.”

Would God treat His own Son thus? Would He leave Him in the desert with wild beasts, without food, without companions, without comfort?

When Satan and the Son of God first met in conflict, Christ was the commander of the heavenly hosts; and Satan, the leader of revolt in heaven, was cast out. Now their condition is apparently reversed, and Satan makes the most of his supposed advantage.

One of the most powerful angels has been banished from heaven. The appearance of Jesus indicates that He is that fallen angel, forsaken by God. A divine being would be able to sustain his claim by working a miracle. “If thou be the Son of God, command this stone that it be made bread.”

It was in this time of greatest weakness that Christ was assailed by the fiercest temptations. But Jesus met Satan with words of Scripture. “It is written.”

In the same way, Satan has taken advantage of the weakness of humanity. He attacks our weak points of character. He seeks to shake our confidence in God, who suffers such a condition of things to exist. He hopes to discourage the soul, and to break our hold on God. If we would meet him as Jesus did, we would escape many a defeat.

“The prince of this world comes,” said Jesus, “and has nothing in Me.” (John 14:30). There was in Him nothing that responded to Satan’s sophistry. He did not consent to sin. Not even by a thought did Jesus yield to temptation. So it may be with us.

By what means did Christ overcome in the conflict with Satan? By the word of God. And every promise in God’s word is ours.

“Your word have I hid in my heart, that I might not sin against You.” (Psalm 119:11)

CXV

BE RENEWED IN THE SPIRIT OF YOUR MIND

EPHESIANS 4:23

MARCELLA KNIGHT-STORM

“She did what!” Destiny barked. “How dare she show you an adult video! What’s wrong with her? I trusted her!”

I had never seen Destiny, my adopted mom, actually get angry before. It unsettled me, yet strangely, it made me feel loved.

“Mom,” I pleaded. “I pushed her into it. I threatened to leave, maybe for good, if she didn’t let me see it.”

Right after I called her Mom, her countenance changed to something closer to her typically peaceable face. I had only recently begun referring to my adoptive parents, Destiny and Brock, as Mom and Dad. I couldn’t blame her for her outrage though. It was she who had talked me into seeing the psychologist, Jamie Northrup in the first place. And it was indeed pretty unconventional, yet I feel trustful, for my counselor to allow me to see her in a compromising video.

“Well, good for you,” my mom said calmly. Yet she folded her arms and gazed intensely into my eyes. I averted my gaze under the scrutiny of the stare. “And do you feel benefited now having looked at filth?”

“Actually I do,” I replied meekly.

She snorted. “Well, that sure is interesting therapy, watching porn.”

“That’s not what I watched.”

“Oh yeah? Well, what did you watch then?”

“A human tragedy,” I replied, unable to stop a tear from squirting out of my eye. Mom’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened and then closed. I continued. “Jamie let me witness the most shameful, humiliating experience of her life. Not only do I trust her completely now, I…I love her and feel a real kinship with her. The way she has overcome and become such a stellar human being inspires me, especially us being equals in being used and abused.”

“I see,” my mom said mildly. She then bit her lower lip and stepped toward me for a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” I told her. Then as our bodies separated, I added, “I know your response was because you love me.”

“To the moon and back,” she smiled, her own eyes watery. She took hold of my hand and continued cautiously. “Sweetie, I’m glad she inspires you and all. But how do you see her as an equal in your experiences? I mean, yes, what that boy did to Jamie was awful. But it was one incident that she easily escaped compared to your own situation. You were a prisoner, a slave, for an extended period of time.”

“She didn’t easily escape her ordeal, Mom,” I replied. “It still haunts her to this day. And probably always will. Just like me. Plus, what happened to her ended up on the internet, viewed by thousands. For a long time she feared someone from her family or church would see it, or become aware of it.

“Another aspect was our family situations. Until you, Brock, and Oralee, I never knew what a loving family was like. Jamie grew up with loving parents, values, and goals. One of the values she had as a girl growing up was also a goal. For years she thought she would lose her virginity on her wedding night to a wonderful man as they started a family. Instead it was a deceptive, womanizing creep who not only stole it, but broadcast it, and gave her an STD in the process.”

“I didn’t know about her getting an STD,” my mom said with a concerned frown.

“It wasn’t something permanent,” I told her. “It was cured with a shot, but it still added insult to injury.”

“Or also injury to insult,” she added with a sad smile.

I responded with my own sad smile. “I knew the second she told me that only two people at Cotton Creek Cove knew about her incident, that you were one of them.”

My mom nodded. “Not long after I joined the church, she wanted to talk to me about my having done porn. She had been tormented about countless people seeing her not only naked, but… Well, you know.”

“Were you able to help her?”

Mom shrugged. “Yes and no. We became extra close friends because of me knowing her secret. But even though I had regret for my past, I had intentionally put myself in that position at the time. Even with my regrets, I can never fully understand how it must feel to be tricked, and taken advantage of like she had been. Then to have it go viral in the porn world on top of that.”

I nodded and looked at my shoes. Mom lifted my chin, and I saw her smiling warmly at me. She said, “Once again, Sweetie, I’m sorry. Given what I just told you, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions about what Jamie did.”

“I understand, Mom,” I smiled back.

“You’re really something, you know that,” she said with a little laugh. “I figured that as your mother, I was your guide and teacher, and here you are giving me a life lesson.”

Mom and I were quiet for a moment as we gazed fondly at each other. Then the sweet, sing song voice of Oralee startled us both. It made us both jump because we were concerned with what she might have overheard after we discovered her sitting on the steps leading to our bedrooms.

“Is STD what Daddy puts in the car?” she asked innocently as she skipped over to us.

“No, Ora,” I couldn’t help saying without a little giggle. “It’s STP Daddy puts into the car.”

“Oh, what’s STD then?” she asked naively, a frown above her big dark brown eyes.

“Uh,” Mom stammered, her startled eyes searching mine, possibly for a way to explain without lying. “It’s…”

“M, will you come swing with me?” my little adoptive sister asked as she took my hand. The look of relief on our mother’s face was palpable.

“Sure thing, Sweetie,” I chuckled.

“Good, I want to tell you about a scary dream I had,” Oralee said as the nine year old tugged at my hand.

Mom’s look of relief vanished and was replaced with one of concern. I winked at her reassuringly. Thankfully, Oralee’s nightmares were typically along the lines of dreaming one of her favorite stuffed animals was missing.

I followed Oralee as she skipped to the swing set. It was a nice day for winter, but still chilly. I hoped she didn’t want to swing long. Yet it was good to be getting a good dose of fresh air when we normally could be cooped up in the house this time of year.

I pushed Oralee on the swing for a little while. She seemed to have forgotten about her dream, so I simply enjoyed the childish joy of my little sister. I pondered our life at the Knight-Storm residence over the las ten months. We had truly been blessed. Although, Oralee had settled in much quicker than me. However, she was younger and far more innocent. Thank the Lord for that!

Oralee began to swing on her own, vigorously pumping her little legs. She put so much effort into getting maximum height, her sneaker flew off. I retrieved it and crouched to put it back on her foot after she stopped. I smiled at the way she tended to mimic her hero, Sevenia, in the way she dressed. Denim skirts, converse sneakers, and sweatshirts that usually had a positive saying on them.

“Alright, do you want me to get you started again, or do you got it?” I asked.

“No, I want to tell you about my dream,” she said, then pointed at the swing next to hers. “Will you have a seat, Big Sis?”

“Why certainly, Little Sis.”

She ran a hand through her short black hair, and then looked at me with a frown. “Do dreams come true a lot?”

“Not usually, but sometimes,” I replied. “Like when Sevenia dreamt about us under the bridge. Then she and Mom and Dad came out and found us.”

“I see,” she frowned and then she watched her feet as she kicked them in a rotating manner. “I’m afraid my dream is gonna come true.”

“Was it a bad dream?” I asked, suddenly feeling anxious for some reason.

“It didn’t start out that way,” she said. “You know that car you and Daddy are fixing up?”

“Yeah,” I replied. She was referring to a 1963 Ford Ranchero our dad bought for him and me to restore together.

“You, Daddy, and me were riding in it,” she said, and then began to twist her fingers nervously. “It was really, really fun. We were going down a road and the trees made a tunnel. But then a woman dressed in all black stepped in front of us. Her eyes were glowing red, like a couple of Christmas tree bulbs. She held a big ax thingy that was as tall as she was. Then she ran into the trees and Daddy said he had to catch her. We ran, and ran, and ran. Then we came to a really wide, spooky tree. The lady in black’s ax was leaning against it and there was blood on it. Daddy said he needed to call the FIB lady.”

“You mean the FBI lady, Nora Medora.” I corrected, and then realized my leg was bobbing nervously.

“Yeah, her,” Oralee said with wide, serious eyes. “Cause Mr. Sallie’s friend Oscar was hurt.”

A chill ran up my spine, and I began to shiver.

“Then you pointed out to Daddy that something was carved on the strange tree, and he read it to us.”

Oralee looked at me wide eyed, and with concern as she licked her lips.

“What did it say?” I asked.

She swallowed and said, “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part VIII)

The voice in the wilderness.

It is through faith that spiritual life is begotten, and we are enabled to do the works of righteousness.

To the question of Zacharias, the angel said, “I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God, and am sent to speak unto you, and to show you these glad tidings.”

Five hundred plus years before, Gabriel had made known to Daniel the prophetic period which was to extend to the coming of Christ.

Before the birth of John the Baptist, the angel had said. “He shall be great in the sight of the Lord, and shall drink neither wine nor strong drink; and he shall be filled with the Holy Ghost.” God had called the son of Zacharias to a great work!

Such a messenger must be holy. He must be a temple for the indwelling of the Spirit of God. In order to fulfill his mission, he must have a sound physical constitution, and mental and spiritual strength. Therefore it would be necessary for him to control the appetites and passions.

In the time of John the Baptist, greed for riches, and the love of luxury and display had become widespread. Sensuous pleasures, feasting and drinking were causing physical disease and degeneracy, benumbing the spiritual perceptions, and lessoning the sensibility to sin. John was to stand as a reformer.

In the natural order of things, the son of Zacharias would have been educated for the priesthood. But the training of the rabbinical schools would have unfitted him for his work. God did not send him to the teachers of theology to learn how to interpret the Scriptures. He called him to the desert, that he might learn of nature and nature’s God.

In solitude, by meditation and prayer, he sought to gird up his soul for the lifework before him.

He saw the people deceived, self-satisfied, and asleep in their sins. He longed to rouse them to a holier life. The message that God had given him to bear was designed to startle them from their lethargy, making them aware of their great wickedness.

Before the seed of the gospel could find lodgment, the soil of the heart must be broken up. Before they would seek healing from Jesus, they must be awakened to their danger from the wounds of sin.

John’s singular appearance carried the minds of his hearers back to the ancient seers. In his manner and dress he resembled the prophet Elijah.

Jesus and John the Baptist were cousins, and closely related by their circumstances of their births; yet they had no other direct acquaintance with each other. The life of Jesus had been spent at Nazareth in Galilee; that of John, in the wilderness of Judea. Amid widely different surroundings they had lived in relative seclusion, and had no communication with each other. Providence had ordered this. No occasion was to be given for the charge that they had conspired together to support each other’s claims.

When Jesus came to be baptized, John recognized in Him a purity of character that he had never before perceived in any man. Never had he come in contact with a human being from whom there breathed an influence so divine.

As Jesus asked for baptism, John drew back, exclaiming, “I have need to be of Thee, and comest Thou to me?”….. And straightway coming up out of the water, Jesus saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon Him.

The glory that rested upon Christ is a pledge of the love of God for us. It tells us of the power of prayer.

Our Redeemer has opened the way so that the most sinful, the most needy, the most oppressed and despised, may find access to the Father.

CXIV

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

MARCELLA KNIGHT STORM

Would you believe that it was a graphic adult video that was the turning point in my healing and restoration?

Don’t misunderstand me. I am not advocating pornography at all. It is disgusting and degrading, and everyone should steer far and clear of it. So I had better explain how a sickening video changed my life.

A year ago at this time I was a prostitute. Not by choice. I was sixteen, and a victim of human trafficking. Long story short, I was not only afraid of my captors, but I was also afraid of the outside world. So for the most part I cooperated, and gave my body, and unwittingly my soul, to my role as a sex slave.

I lived in almost constant fear. I despised my past, hated the present, and feared the future. I disliked my life and longed to die. Yet, I was also scared of death, even though I told myself I was an atheist.

Then eight year old Oralee, my light, entered my dark world. She’s the first person I ever loved. And it was love for her that caused me to act boldly, and step out in a faith I didn’t even know I possessed. I couldn’t stand the thought of what our evil captors would do to her and what she would become. So we escaped.

When we fled the house of perversion, it was initially a success. By that I mean no one detected or gave chase. But it was late winter in the Midwest and we had little more than the clothes on our backs. By the grace of God, we made a makeshift shelter under an old railroad bridge and managed to stay moderately warm.

By a miracle of God, realized by Oralee’s prayers, we were somehow found by three righteous people. Sevenia Sallie had a dream about us. She felt so strongly about it that she, Destiny Knight-Storm, and Destiny’s husband Brock, hiked through snow and dense woods to discover us.

Sevenia wasn’t much older than me. Even though she has auburn hair and emerald eyes, she has a bit of a Hispanic look to her and could pass for Oralee’s sister. Ora, my little Mexican angel, and now my legal sister.

Destiny, with her honey blonde hair and blue eyes, looks like she could be my biological mother. But I don’t give a hoot about biology. My birth mother cared more about drugs than me, and ultimately turned my life into a living nightmare. For the last nine months, Destiny has been a mother, and more to me. She’s been a friend, a comfort, a counselor, and an inspiration.

Then there’s Brock, my dad. He’s the first man I ever loved. But I’m not gonna lie, he scared me at first. In my previous world, I had never known a good man. And Brock is all man. He’s built like a pro wrestler, or football player or something. Plus, even though he is movie star handsome, he has a few sinister scars on his face that make him look even more intimidating. Especially the one that curls from his lip like a sinister grin.

All of a sudden, I had a loving family, but I still had a lot of baggage. Destiny talked me into being treated by a Christian psychologist named Jamie Northrup. She is the daughter of Mary Gold and Jake Weston, who I had read about in Johnathan Ember’s e-book ‘Spoiled Produce.’ Jamie herself even appears at the end of this romantic comedy.

I reluctantly agreed to see her, but mostly because the book ‘Spoiled Produce’ intrigued me. Also, Jamie looked a lot like one of my favorite entertainers, Lindsey Stirling. Her mother Mary Gold also looked similar to the dancing violinist, but of course older.

Mrs. Northrup had her work cut out for her with me. She was patient, yet persevering. She would push me hard, but then pull back. Counseling doesn’t do any good if you hold stuff in, or especially if you are not truthful. She finally brought me to a breaking point, that turned out to be a breakthrough.

I was making full eye contact with her for the first time, but I was frustrated. Her large pretty eyes were demanding, yet kind and patient. Her face seemed unworried, and I thought, what does she really care? This is just her job.

I took in her White turtleneck, her tan corduroy skirt, white tights, and white shoes. She seemed as pure as the driven snow. For the first time in one of our sessions, I barked at her. “What would you know about being used, being taken advantage of! All you have is book learning. How do you know what it feels like in the real world? You can’t possibly know even a fraction of my nightmare!”

She gazed at me patiently and sympathetically. I wanted to slap her face, even though she didn’t at all deserve it. Instead I rose hastily and marched to the door.

“If I tell you a dark secret about myself, will you promise me that it doesn’t leave this room?” She asked me.

For some reason this caused me to freeze with my hand on the doorknob. I didn’t fully understand my motive for stopping my intended departure. I suppose curiosity. I wanted to know what could possibly be a dark secret to this wholesome wife and mother of two. I turned to look at her. I have no idea what my expression looked like. I’m guessing it was both skeptical and hostile. She unlocked a desk drawer and showed me a disc.

“Okay, I’m listening,” I told her, folding my arms in defiance.

“First, I want you to give me your word that this stays strictly between you and me,” she demanded. “Only two other people at Cotton Creek Cove know this secret of mine, and I want to keep it that way.”

She extended a hand. I took it, and we shook. Then I said, “I promise.”

“When I was in college, I was in a pornographic video.”

After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I said, “You did porn?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I was tricked, and betrayed.”

I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

She explained how she had subtly relinquished the principles she grew up with during college. She began to drink socially, and get kissy with a guy that she dated. Both continued to gradually escalate. One drink at a party became two, and kissing with the next guy she dated also involved touching. Then the third guy she dated, she thought was extra special, maybe even “the one.”

Although they had dated only a short time, she was smitten. He was sweet, smart, and charming. It also didn’t hurt that he was absolutely gorgeous and came from money. She felt out of his league, but he convinced her that he loved how different she was. He kept telling her that she was the ultimate nerdy, but cute and sexy librarian type. That led to a St. Patrick’s Day party and the video.

She placed the disc back into her drawer and shut it with a click of the lock.

“I look at this disc before every visit we have,” Mrs. Northrup said. “I’m not saying what I went through was worse than your experience. It wasn’t. But it was still the most horrific, humiliating experience of my life, and I feel like it helps me relate to you better having gone through it. God can take curses, and turn them into blessings if we let Him.”

“Can I watch it?” I asked quietly.

I could easily see the surprise in her eyes. The dignified, articulate psychologist stammered. “No…I…I mean I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“I can guarantee you that without even seeing the video, I’ve seen worse, participated in worse.”

“There, you see, there’s no point in you seeing it then.”

“How can I fully relate to you like you want if I don’t see what you’ve experienced?”

“My husband’s never even seen it, but he knows about it. He understands the pain and shame it caused me.”

“I’m guessing your husband wasn’t a teenage prostitute,” I replied, feeling very angry for some reason as I reached for the doorknob.

“You can watch it,” she blurted as I began to exit the room.

I turned to face her. Then something occurred to me and I looked at the clock. Our session was over in five minutes, and I doubted she was going to let me take it home. Understanding what I was thinking, she said, “My next appointment cancelled today. We can go extra long.”

She stood, motioning for me to follow with a finger. We went into an adjoining room which was a small private office. There was a sixteen inch TV with a DVR. She turned on the tube, slid the disc in a slot, invited me to sit in a desk chair and instructed. “As soon as I leave, hit play. I happen to know the entire video is twenty six minutes long. I’ll be back in twenty seven.”

The video began with two guys sitting on a bed in a small room. They both were wearing green t-shirts with some type of saying on them, and jeans. One of the guys was, forgive me, rather homely. Big nose, narrow eyes, and a satanic grin that made me want to punch him in the mouth. He was quite muscular and stocky. The other guy was very attractive. He had to be Jamie’s suitor. Short brown hair, gelled just so, dark blue eyes, a lean, muscular build, and a cocky grin that could be mistaken for confidence.

The two guys mentioned Jamie and a bet. The pretty guy had bet the other guy fifty dollars that before the clock struck twelve midnight, he would, not only deflower Jamie, but record the event as proof. The other guy then demanded that with no visual, no cash. The two pretend men shook on it.

The video then cut to the bed, but now empty. After a few seconds the sound of a door shutting and voices could be heard. The pretty boy sat on the bed, and with a sweet, charming smile, extended a hand. A female arm came into view, and the pretty boy gently grasped some dainty fingers and Jamie, fifteen years younger, came into view and sat next to him on the bed.

She was wearing a green t-shirt with the name of an Irish pub on it. She also wore a green plaid skirt, and green and white striped tights. I couldn’t see below their knees. The couple immediately began kissing passionately. After a minute pretty boy began touching her. When he tried to go under the clothes however, Jamie giggled and stopped him.

He began talking softly to her. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his eyes looked dreamily into hers. They began kissing again. Once again, she stopped an aggressive advance, only now instead of giggling, she looked confused. And once again he looked dreamily into her eyes. This time he took both her hands into his as he spoke. She smiled sweetly at him, nodded, bit her lip nervously, and the two undressed.

I’m not gonna describe the next several minutes, but lets just say pretty boy recorded ample proof that he took Jamie’s virginity. When they were finished, instead of kissing her tenderly, and settling in for a cuddle, pretty boy quickly exited the bed and retrieved the hidden video recorder. He returned to the bed with an extreme close up of Jamie.

“What are you doing?” You could clearly hear Jamie ask with a disturbing edge in her voice. Then she shrieked, making my skin crawl. “Is that a video recorder?”

“Smile, you’re on candid camera!” Pretty boy exclaimed merrily.

Her hand came toward the camera and you could hear it clattering to the floor as the video went mostly dark. A few seconds later, the picture came into focus as the viewer witnessed Jamie hastily throwing her shirt on, and then her skirt on as she muttered with desperation, but unintelligible.

She gathered up her undergarments and stumbled toward the door. She glanced at the camera on her way. Her horror stricken face was tear streaked. Then the screen went black, and as if on cue, Jamie came into the room. She didn’t make eye contact with me, but wore a stoic expression, and releasing a clenched jaw, spoke one word. “Well?”

As her patient, I didn’t know if  it was appropriate, but I softly said her first name. “Jamie.”

She looked at me and gave a little gasp. Her reaction was probably due to the tears streaming from my eyes, and my lower lip trembling uncontrollably. I stood. What Jamie did next was probably not appropriate for a therapist, but then again, neither was the video she shared. Regardless, I didn’t care. I relished it when she stepped quickly to me and we hugged.

We both sobbed as we held each other tight. We were no longer client and patient, but sisters in Christ. You see, it was shortly after this particular session with Jamie that I gave my life to Jesus. I began to realize for the first time that the past is past, and the present is present, regardless of all the ugly reminders.

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part VII)

From His earliest years, the child Jesus was surrounded with the requirements of the rabbis. Rigid rules were prescribed for every act, down to the smallest details of life. Under the synagogue teachers the youth were instructed in the countless regulations which as orthodox Israelites they were expected to observe.

But Jesus did not interest Himself in these matters. From childhood He acted independently of the rabbinical laws. The Scriptures of the Old Testament were His constant study, and the words “Thus saith the Lord,” were ever upon His lips.

Because He was so gentle and unobtrusive, the scribes and elders supposed that He would be easily influenced by their teaching. They urged Him to receive the maxims and traditions that had been handed down from the ancient rabbis, but He asked for their authority in Holy Writ. He would hear every word that proceeds from the mouth of God; but He could not obey the inventions of men.

At a very early age, Jesus had begun to act for Himself in the formation of character.

Great contradictions presented themselves in Jesus. He was the divine Son of God, and yet a helpless child.

Jesus was the Creator of the worlds, the earth was His possession, and yet poverty marked His life experience at every step. He possessed a dignity and individuality wholly distinct from earthly pride and assumption. He did not strive for worldly greatness, and in even the lowliest position He was content.

He had become poor that through His poverty we might be rich. (2 Corinthians 8:9)

Often Jesus’s forbearance and kindness were termed cowardice. Of the bitterness that falls to the lot of humanity, there was no part which Christ did not taste.

Jesus did not contend for His rights. Often His work was made unnecessarily severe because He was willing and uncomplaining. Yet He did not fail or become discouraged. He lived above these difficulties, as if in the light of God’s countenance. He did not retaliate when roughly used, but bore insult patiently.

He taught all to look upon themselves as endowed with precious talents, which if rightly employed would secure for them eternal riches.

He weeded all vanity from life, and by His own example taught that every moment is fraught with eternal results. He passed by no human being as worthless, but sought to apply the saving remedy to every soul.

Through childhood, youth, and manhood, Jesus walked alone. In His purity and His faithfulness, He carried the awful weight of responsibility for the salvation of humanity.

CXIII

1 CORINTHIANS 13:4

LOVE SUFFERS LONG AND IS KIND; LOVE DOES NOT ENVY…

BROCK STORM

It’s strange how a person’s own mind can sometimes feel like an enemy. For the last week, I had been dealing with something like jealousy issues. The reason I say something like, and not the real thing, is because it was more of temptation to jealousy than actual envy.

You see, consciously, I was happy about all three of the things that had been plaguing my mind off and on for days. I truly wouldn’t change a thing. But on a subconscious level, I felt, I don’t know, left out and a sense of loss. But by the grace of God, my affliction was light, educational, and the most prominent torment turned into an incredible blessing.

The first came when my ex-girlfriend wanted to talk to my wife in private. The two had been civil enemies up to this point, and it always made me uncomfortable. When they returned from their talk and were behaving like long lost sisters, I strangely felt left out for some reason.

The second also began after the two women returned. My old friend and roommate when I lived in Miami had showed up unexpectedly at the same time as Nora’s presence was  in our neck of the woods. Coincidence? I don’t think so. I had informed my old pal Tito via text message that the FBI Special Agent was in town.

Nora and my good buddy, Tito Bonnano, had gotten to know each other over the years Tito and I shared a house together. I wasn’t a Christian back then, and Nora and I were more like friends with benefits than an actual couple.

Nora’s demeanor has always been more like a guy. Yet she was quite striking in appearance, even though she usually sported short hair and refrained from physical adornments. She also has an athletic body on par with a female MMA fighter.

Long story short, the four of us went to dinner that night. Tito discovered Nora was due for a month long sabbatical. He runs his own investigative business and was between cases. Nora did something I never personally witnessed her do. She passed off her current case to another agent, and my two friends whisked off to Florida together. I fought off an unreasonable sense of betrayal from both of them. It was ridiculous since I was very happily married. Why should I care? So I joined my wife in the hope of a possible romance between the odd couple.

Then Destiny told me about our seventeen year old adopted daughter calling her Mom for the first time. Marcella had also said that she loved Destiny with all her heart. I was overwhelmingly happy for Dee and even prayed with her in thanksgiving to God for the breakthrough. What hurt, though, was Marcella had never called me Dad and never verbally expressed love. As a matter of fact, she seemed to avoid avoid me if at all possible.

Marcella had acquired a learner’s driving permit a few days previous. She was very excited, but then Dee told her that she needed to talk to me about going for a drive for the first time. Almost one hundred hours went by before she tentatively entered my shop as I tricked out a Harley Davidson Sportster.

“Hi Marcella, come in,” I told her.

“Are you busy?” she asked nervously.

“I’m never too busy for you,” I said cheerfully. “What’s up?”

“You know how I got a permit to drive the other day?” she asked tentatively as she tucked a long strand of blonde hair behind an ear. I noticed her fingers tremble when she did so.

This made my heart ache that I somehow caused her to feel uncomfortable. I also didn’t fully understand it. When she and Oralee were with us only a short time, in a fit of rage and fear, she had bombarded me with a series of punches when I tried to demonstrate self-defense techniques. She even bloodied my nose in the process.

She had been very remorseful, apologizing profusely. I readily accepted. Yet in some ways, the incident paradoxically both opened a relationship between us and strained it at the same time, even though I did my best to let her know all was well and that I understood.

Yet I didn’t understand. How could I? I didn’t know what it was actually like to be a young girl sold into prostitution, unloved and unwanted other than as a sex object for the most vile human beings on the planet. Also never knowing the love of a true parent.

“Sure I do,” I almost sang. “Remember, Dee showed me it when you two got home that day. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she replied bashfully as she cast her pretty, bright blue eye to the ground briefly. Then her eyes met mine, looked to the right, and she continued, “Mo… I mean Des…”

“Your mom wants me to take you out driving,” I said with a big grin.

“Yes,” she responded with a nervous laugh. Her eyes met mine for a second, then rotated to the left.

“I’d be glad to. When do you want to go?”

“Whenever,” she said with a casual shoulder shrug.

“How about now?”

“Really?” she asked as she made eye contact with me for a record seven seconds.

“We’ll take Dee’s car,” I told her.

We took my wife’s Volkswagen Bug to a vacant parking lot first. She did really well. She concentrated hard, and I had to refrain from chuckling when her tongue would squirt out of the corner of her mouth. Then we went on some country roads. Once again, she did good, but I did find myself squeezing the door handle a couple times.

We finally pulled into our driveway with Marcella still behind the wheel, she gave a satisfied sigh as she grinned from ear to ear.

“You did great, Honey,” I blurted spontaneously, and then stiffened at using a term of affection.

Yet I was about to discover, hindsight is better than foresight. Marcella’s hesitancy with me was in large part because of my own caution around her. Destiny had tried to nudge me into being more involved with her, but I was just too dense to get it.

I was also too thick headed to realize what my wise wife had done by making me take Marcella driving. It wasn’t because I was a superior driver than my wife, or because Destiny felt unable to teach her. It was so Marcella and I could bond. And bond we did.

“Do you really think so?” Marcella beamed.

“I really do,” I grinned at her as I raised my fist. She tapped her fist into mine as she giggled.

“Come with me, I want to show you something,” I told her.

She followed me to my shop, and I pulled the tarp off of a vehicle. It was a 1963 Ford Ranchero, one of the Falcon style years. I had bought it from a neighbor, it was all original. It had seen better days due to its age, but the old farmer had taken great care of it.  I snatched it up before it was sold at an estate sale.

“Wow, that’s pretty cool,” she said, then giggled. “And old.”

I pulled out my phone and showed her several pictures. “Here’s a few things we can do to it when we restore it.”

“We?” she asked with wide, puzzled eyes.

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Dee told me you’re interested in mechanical things.

“Yeah,” she shrugged.

“Can I ask you, Marcella, how come you haven’t come out to hang with me in the shop then?”

She shrugged again, put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and rolled her feet in a shy, hesitant manner.

“Well, anyway,” I continued. “After Dee told me about you being interested in mechanics, I came across this old girl and thought it would be a fun project for you and me. That is you want to, maybe I shouldn’t assume.”

“No, no, I’d love to,” she said quickly, but then she shrugged again. “If that’s what you want.”

“Well,” I said, then I shrugged again. “I just thought it would make your first vehicle more special if you sort of created it.”

She gasped and then slapped a hand to her chest. “You bought this for me?”

“I did,” I replied with a happy grin.

“To drive?”

“Well, that’s what you typically do with automobiles,” I joked.

“But why?”

“Well, usually to get from place to place.”

She giggled and then said, “I mean, why did you buy this for me?”

I shrugged, thought about being cautious, but threw it to the wind and said, “Because you’re my daughter, and I love you.”

Her eyes bore into mine as she stood stone still. Now I felt like looking away, especially when tears began to stream out of her clear blue eyes. I shoved my hands into my pockets, and for the first time with Marcella, I looked away from eye contact first.

“I love you too!” she blurted, fligging her slight body into mine. Her hands gripped the back of my sweatshirt as I gently placed a hand on her back and stroked her silky blonde hair with the other. Then she spoke one word that caused tears to come from my own eyes. “Dad.”

Dear wife, my Destiny. Now I know firsthand how wonderful you felt last week when your experience with our daughter was so similar. I couldn’t be more grateful for how you arranged this unforgettable moment!

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part VI)

The Passover visit of the child Jesus.

With most people in the days of Christ, the observance of this feast had degenerated into formalism. But what was its significance to the Son of God!

For the first time the child Jesus looked upon the temple. He saw the white robed priests performing their solemn ministry. He beheld the bleeding victim upon the altar of sacrifice. With the other worshippers He bowed in prayer, while the cloud of incense ascended before God. He witnessed the impressive rites of the paschal service. Day by day He saw their meaning more clearly. Every act seemed to be bound up with His own life. New impulses were awakening within Him. Silent and absorbed, He seemed to be studying out a great problem. The mystery of His mission was opening to the Savior.

In this visit to Jerusalem, Mary and Joseph wished to bring Him into connection with the great teachers in Israel. While Jesus was obedient in every particular to the word of God, He did not conform to the rabbinical rites and usages.

But seating Himself at the feet of these grave, learned men, He listened to their instruction. As one seeking for wisdom, He questioned these teachers in regard to the prophesies, and to events then taking place that pointed to the advent of the Messiah.

They would not admit that they had misapprehended the Scriptures. They claimed to teach from one to another passed the inquiry, How hath this youth knowledge having never learned? The light was shining in darkness; but “the darkness apprehended it not.” (John 1:5)

Jesus did not ignore His relation to His earthly parents. From Jerusalem He returned home with them, and aided them in their life of toil.

For eighteen years after Jesus had recognized that He was the Son of God, He acknowledged the tie that bound Him to the home at Nazareth, and performed the duties of a son, a brother, a friend, and a citizen.

By one day’s neglect Joseph and Mary lost the Savior; but it cost them three days of anxious search to find Him. So with us; by neglect of prayer and watchfulness, we may in one day lose the Savior’s presence, and it may take days of sorrowful search to find Him, and regain the peace we have lost.

Many attend religious services, and are refreshed and comforted by the word of God. But through neglect of meditation, watchfulness, and prayer, they lose the blessing, and find themselves more destitute than before they received it. Often they feel God has dealt hardly with them. They do not see that the fault is their own.

It would be well for us to spend a thoughtful hour each day in contemplation of the life of Christ. We should take it point by point, and let the imagination grasp each scene, especially the closing ones. As we thus dwell upon His great sacrifice for us, our confidence in Him will be more constant, our love will be quickened, and we shall be more deeply imbued with His spirit.

If we would be saved at last, we must learn the lesson of penitence and humiliation at the foot of the cross.

Beholding the beauty of His character, we shall be “changed into the same image from glory to glory.” (2 Corinthians 3:18)