Rising Darkness (18 page)

I didn't sleep well Saturday night. I finally nodded off around three in the morning, but I was awake again a little after six. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't, finally crawling out of bed around six-thirty. Being as quiet as I could, I went down the hall, took a shower, and got dressed for church. I'd treated my hands the night before and was glad to see the cuts weren't as deep as I'd first thought. Although the scratches were still visible, I didn't think they'd cause me too many problems.

I'd brought only one nice outfit with me, since I hadn't planned to go anyplace where I'd have to dress up. It was a simple black dress with long sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Even though the neckline wasn't really low, I felt uncomfortable wearing it to church, so I draped a black and silver pashmina over the front. I added silver earrings and a silver bracelet. When I looked in the mirror, I felt overdressed. In the end, I took the dress off, pulled on a white, lacy camisole, and put the dress back on over it. With a little adjusting,
it looked perfect. I took off the dangly silver earrings and put on small pearls. With plain black pumps, I felt I looked church-worthy.

Today would be the first time I'd taken part in an actual church service since I'd left Kingdom. Not only was I nervous about the experience, I was anxious about seeing Jonathon again. Last night had shaken me. Had he really told me he loved me, or had I dreamt that? To be honest, I wasn't completely sure when I first woke up. I was afraid to believe it was true. And I was even more afraid to believe it wasn't.

When I went downstairs, I headed to the kitchen. Esther was standing at the stove, and Zac was sitting at the kitchen table. His eyes widened when he saw me.

“Wow. You look great. Are you going to church?”

I nodded. “Jonathon invited me.”

“Why don't we go together?”

“That would be nice.” I was relieved I wouldn't have to walk into the service alone, but on the other hand, getting too close to Zac still made me a little nervous. What if I said or did something that made him suspicious?

Esther allowed me to get away with just a roll and coffee. Of course, she talked me into smearing the roll with her homemade strawberry jam. It was so good I almost wished I hadn't insisted on just one. I drank another cup of coffee while I waited for Zac to get ready. Esther left before we did, picked up by someone in a buggy. We'd all decided to meet at The Oil Lamp after church, and Esther had told us that Wynter and Reuben would be joining us. About ten minutes before the service at Jonathon's church was set to start, Zac
came bounding down the stairs. I was surprised to see him wearing jeans. He noticed my surprised look.

“A lot of people wear jeans to Agape,” he said.

I glanced down at my dress. “Is this . . . too much?”

“No, some people dress up. Some don't. You'll love it. It's an awesome church, and Jonathon is a terrific pastor.”

“We'd better get going. I don't want to be late.”

“It only takes about three minutes to get to Agape. One of the great things about small towns.”

“I'll drive,” I said. My car was a midsized sedan and had more room than his Mini Cooper. I didn't feel like being squeezed into a tiny space with him.

“Sure.” He swung open the front door and bowed. “After you, m'lady.”

I smiled, although I was a little irritated with his casual attitude. I didn't like to be late to anything. Especially church. The last thing I wanted was for people to stare at me when I walked in after everyone else was already seated. My parents had been late to church almost every Sunday. I could still hear the whispers and see people shaking their heads when the Wittenbauers strolled in after the service had already started.

As Zac had said, it only took a few minutes to drive to Agape. The parking lot was packed with cars. Zac asked if I would like him to drop me off near the front door so I could go inside while he looked for a parking space. I was grateful and took him up on his offer. Maybe I'd be on time, after all. But much to my surprise, the lobby was crowded with people talking and laughing. No one seemed in a rush or appeared worried that they might have trouble finding a place to sit.

Near the entrance to the community room, I glanced up
at the painting of Jesus with the little girl. Just the sight of it made me emotional again. I could almost feel Jonathon's hands on my face. My cheeks felt warm, as if he were still touching me.

I turned left and entered the sanctuary. It was the first time I'd seen it, since the doors had been closed the night before. Although it was large, it was casual and comfortable. Nothing ostentatious or formal. Maybe not as simple as the Kingdom church, but I didn't feel out of place. There were other obvious differences. In Kingdom, men sat on one side of the sanctuary and women on the other. Here, families stayed together. Men and women sat next to each other. People seemed happy to be in church. They were talking and laughing as they greeted one another. Our services in Kingdom had been very subdued. Members came in, sat down, and waited quietly for the pastor or elder to come to the front.

I made my way to a row about halfway up the aisle and sat down. Feeling that I should save a place for Zac, I put my purse on the pew next to me. There were musical instruments on the stage, and the musicians had just begun to take their places when Zac walked up. I moved my purse and put it down on the floor so he could sit down. He'd just taken his seat when a young woman walked up to the podium and asked us all to stand. Although I liked music, it wasn't allowed in our services back home. I'd heard some contemporary Christian music since I'd left Kingdom, but I couldn't say I'd paid much attention. I assumed that's what I'd hear this morning.

After the woman asked us to stand, the crowd became quiet, respectful. Although I'd told myself I probably wouldn't like the music much, as the first strains began, I felt overwhelmed
by something powerful stirring within my heart. A feeling of love filled the room. As people began to sing the words that were projected on two big screens mounted on the walls, I could hear the adoration and passion for God in their songs. As the music swelled and the voices blended together, worshipers began to lift their hands. I'd never seen this before, but it seemed so natural. So right. I remembered a passage in the Bible about people lifting holy hands to God, and I found my hand slipping upward. It was as if I were directing this wave of praise to Him. I tried to sing along, but I was too overcome by emotion. I couldn't get the words out, so I just read them as the congregation poured out their praise to God. After a couple of songs with a faster beat, the music slowed down. I was touched by words that declared God was the very breath we breathe.

I was surprised when the strains of a song I'd heard back in Kingdom drifted gently from the stage—“'Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus.” At first I was afraid it would take me out of the glorious atmosphere and bring back dark memories from the past, but instead, the words ministered to me. I felt God's arms around me the same way I had last night. There was something about praising Him with all these people that seemed to make His presence so strong and personal. I snuck a look at Zac. His eyes were closed, and I could tell that he wasn't just mouthing the words. He was in communion with God. I glanced around me and saw the beatific faces of the people near me. God was here. Their praise wasn't coming forth because it was expected or because it was time to sing. It came from hearts full of worship for a Father who adored His children.

When the swell finally slowed, the woman leading the service left the podium. Even this was something I'd never seen in our church. Women didn't talk during the service. And they certainly weren't leaders. I couldn't help but wonder if this was wrong, but how could it be? How could anything so beautiful, so full of God, not be His will?

Then a man went up to the podium and led a prayer. Afterward, he told us we could sit down. When we were seated, he mentioned several things going on in the church. I was surprised by all the small groups offered to the members and was impressed when he talked about their large youth group and an upcoming missions trip that summer to Uganda. This congregation was certainly active.

Then Jonathon came up on the stage. He was wearing black slacks, a blue shirt, and a dark-blue tie. He looked so handsome I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Memories of his kiss distracted me from what he was saying, and I fought to focus on his words, trying to forget the feeling of his lips on mine.

He began to talk about how God has a plan for everyone's life, and that we can slow down His plan by living in the past. “Whether our pain is caused by something we did, or something that was done to us, looking backward can keep us from moving forward. The apostle Paul spent many years aiding in the persecution of Christians. He stood by while Stephen was stoned to death. But on the road to Damascus, he discovered God's plan. God called him to spread the truth of Christ to the Gentiles. I'm sure Paul felt great conviction about his past and regretted his actions. But he had a choice. Either he could turn his eyes on Jesus and away from the
things he'd done before he met Christ, or he could spend his life suffering for those mistakes. When faced with that choice, he said this: ‘One thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.' Paul's decision was vital to his calling. If he'd allowed his painful past to overshadow his faith in God's love and forgiveness, he never would have stepped into a ministry that changed the world.”

Although I wasn't near the front of the church, I was almost certain Jonathon was looking at me as he said, “God has something wonderful for you. Turn from the past and step into the freedom and power found in Him. People need the gifts that have been hidden inside you. You're important to the church. To the world. And to the people who love you. God has called you to touch lives. And you can't fulfill that calling if you're imprisoned in the past.”

I only half listened to the rest of his sermon. Was Jonathon really talking to me? There was nothing I wanted more than to leave my past behind. It was the reason I'd left Kingdom. But had I just dragged it with me? I was still the injured child. Angry, hurt, defensive. That wasn't who I wanted to be. But how could I simply turn off the past and be free from what my father had done? The negative image I had of myself? Would God just zap the past away? Was I supposed to pretend it hadn't happened? Jonathon's words rang true, yet I had no idea how to get from where I was to where I needed to be.

Before I knew it, the service was over and people were beginning to walk out. I stood up, picked up my purse, and began to follow Zac out of the sanctuary. I was almost to the
door when I heard someone call my name. I turned around and found Nate standing behind me. He looked great in jeans, a chambray shirt, and a black leather jacket.

“Wow, you clean up great,” he said with a smile. “Do you have plans?”

“I guess we're all going to The Oil Lamp for lunch,” I told him. “You're welcome to join us.”

He frowned. “Are you sure? I don't want to intrude.”

“It's nothing formal,” Zac interjected. “Everyone's welcome. You can ride over with us if you want.”

Nate zipped up his jacket. “Okay, sounds great. I'd love to. Thanks.”

“Have you two met?” I asked.

“Yeah, last night,” Zac said. “Nate saved me a piece of pecan pie, so I guess we're best friends now. Nice to see you again.”

Nate laughed. “You too. Thanks for letting me tag along.”

Zac grinned. “The more the merrier. As long as Randi doesn't run out of food, we're good to go.”

As we walked out the sanctuary doors, I glanced back and saw Jonathon standing at the front of the sanctuary, a small crowd of people around him. It was clear he was very popular with his congregation. Although I wasn't certain, I thought I caught him looking my way. The flow of people pushed me toward the lobby, so I couldn't be sure.

Zac, Nate, and I got into my car and made the short drive to The Oil Lamp. We weren't the first car to pull in, and more cars were coming behind us.

“I'm going to run in and get us a table.” Zac had his door open before I'd come to a full stop in the parking spot. He jumped out of the car and sprinted toward the front door.

“He seems worried about not getting a table.” I looked at Nate in my rearview mirror. “We could go to Mary's place if The Oil Lamp gets too full.”

Nate looked across the street. “I think Mary closes on Sundays.”

Sure enough, there was no one there.

“Then I'm glad Zac's willing to fight the crowd for us.”

“Me too.”

I put my hand on the door handle, but Nate stopped me. “Jonathon mentioned the fire last night. Did it have anything to do with what you're doing?”