The Other Side of Darkness (15 page)

Several heads are nodding now, and to be honest, I can’t disagree since I’ve had these same feelings, even though I could never put it quite that eloquently. And yet there is something about this woman that I don’t completely trust. Maybe it’s simply her stunning good looks or the way she smiled at Pastor Glenn. Perhaps if she looked more like Cynthia, I would have no problem. But I know it’s wrong to judge, and I confess this attitude to the Lord. I should know better than to allow physical appearances to distract me from his purposes.

“For some reason,” she continues, “Satan has set his sights on your city. For some reason Satan has gathered his demons and his powers, and he is preparing for victory, for death and destruction.” She pauses, closing her eyes and tilting her head back slightly as she takes in a long, deep breath. “And the spiritual warfare will be like nothing you’ve ever witnessed before.”

The room grows very still, almost as if we’re all holding our breath, literally sitting on the edges of our seats, waiting for her to continue.

“I’ve only been here a short while, but I have been waging warfare against Satan and his demons the whole time. I have been waging warfare during the night and all through the day. I’ve been praying for the Christians in this town—for you people right here in this very room—that you will unite and be strong in the Lord and able to fight back, able to hold the demons at bay! I’ve been praying for your deliverance, for your spiritual victory, and for the defeat of our enemy!”

“Amen!” Carl claps his hands.

“Amen!” echoes Cynthia and several others, including myself.

“We must unite.” She holds up a fist. “We must arm and equip ourselves with spiritual weapons. We must prepare ourselves to take the offensive position so we can kick Satan and his demons right out of this town!

More “amens” and then we are all on our feet, clapping with unbridled enthusiasm, many with tears in their eyes.

“That’s the spirit,” says Pastor Glenn as he steps forward with an acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder. “Thank you, Sister Bronte!”

“I am your servant,” she says to everyone.

“We appreciate that you heeded the Lord’s call,” says Pastor Glenn as she returns to her seat. “Don’t we, friends?”

Again we all clap and say, “Amen.”

Then Pastor Glenn strums his guitar. “Well, as you know, I’m not highly experienced at leading worship, but if you’ll forgive me, I’d like to give it a try this morning.” And despite his disclaimer, he does a wonderful job of leading worship, and we all sing with a fresh kind of fervor that I haven’t experienced in ages. Maybe not ever. It is an amazing time, and I feel the Spirit is really moving.

After the worship time comes to an end, several people step forward to share a word of knowledge. For the most part they simply reaffirm and confirm what both Bronte and Pastor Glenn have already established. Then Bronte steps forward again, and the room gets very quiet as she stands with hands uplifted and eyes closed. And I can’t deny that something about her has a very celestial and angelic look, and I realize with thankfulness that my earlier prejudice has completely melted away.

“The Lord says,” she begins in a quiet but serious voice, “ ‘Friday night’s storm was not merely a coincidence, my children. It was not simply a badly timed slip of the weather. No. The storm that canceled the concert, the storm that knocked out half the town’s electricity, the storm that ruined some valuable sound equipment—that storm was just a tiny sample of my judgment,’ says the Lord. ‘A tiny portion of my condemnation, which I will rain down on everyone who stands against me, everyone who refuses to join me in this battle against my enemy. I have chosen you,’ says the Lord, ‘to be my soldiers, my righteous army against the spirit of darkness and the demonic powers that will crush this town unless we prevail. Join me now, my children; enter my ranks that we might reign victorious, that we might deliver this town from the blackness of sin and the power of Satan.’ The Lord has spoken!”

More “amens” and then we sing more songs, and the air is charged
with so much spiritual energy that I can literally feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. And I’m not even surprised when Edna is prayed for and then falls to the floor, slain in the Spirit, shaking and trembling like jolts of electricity are running through her. This happens to several others who go forward, waiting for Bronte and Pastor Glenn to lay hands on them. I even consider going up there myself, but something is holding me back.

I’ve never been slain in the Spirit before, and I suppose I’ve always feared it. In fact, Colleen and I went to a Pentecostal revival once and actually made fun of some of the antics there. So to lose control like that and in front of everyone, well, it’s too frightening. Yet at the same time, I want to be obedient. I want to be Spirit filled. And then, as I’m standing by my chair arguing with myself, I see Bronte approaching, looking directly at me.

“Can I pray for you, sister?” she asks with the clearest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, eyes that help me to trust her.

I slowly nod, and I can feel a lump in my throat and tears burning behind my closed eyelids when she places her hands on my head and begins to pray. I feel I must be perfectly still, and I am almost afraid to breathe as I listen to her speaking in another language and yet with authority. Then she goes back to English, binding demons, actually calling them by name, it seems. And yet they are strange and foreign-sounding names I’ve never heard before. She casts them out with incredible power and confidence.

Without any warning everything goes fuzzy, then black, and the next thing I know, I am lying on the cold concrete floor with my arms and legs shaking uncontrollably. And although I am scared and unsettled and confused, I am also relieved. Strangely relieved. It’s as if I fit in now.

“The Lord is in you, sister.” Bronte helps me to my feet. “But the demons are also. We must wage continuous warfare against them, for as quickly as we send them out, they run to their friends and invite them to come back in. You need our help, sister; you cannot do this on your own. You cannot keep them away without the power of the army surrounding you. Left to themselves, these demons will devour you.”

I nod without speaking. I’m not sure I’m even capable of speech at the moment. Cynthia has joined us now, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Ruth is a good servant of the Lord,” she tells Bronte, almost as if I’m not here or as if I’m a small child, and yet I don’t protest. “But you are right. Ruth still has need of great deliverance.”

Bronte smiles. “You have come to the right place, Ruth. The Lord has brought you here for a reason. Will you join us again on Wednesday night?”

Without really thinking, I say yes.

“You are all invited to join us again,” Bronte announces in a loud voice that causes the room to grow quiet again. “We will meet here again on Wednesday evening at seven o’clock. Pastor Glenn will preach, and we will be doing even more deliverance prayers. We will cast out more demons and wage serious spiritual warfare for this city. We invite you to bring your friends and family and anyone in need of a touch from the Lord. Together we will fight against the darkness. Together we will deliver this town from Satan’s hold!”

“But before we leave here today”—Pastor Glenn has moved up to the front again—“we need your help, brothers and sisters. I know your spirits have confirmed that the Lord led Bronte to our town, to us, and to this building. She has graciously talked the owner into letting us use this building for just one week, but that was with the promise that we would come up with enough money for a year-long
lease. We believe the Lord can provide for us, but we need you to believe and partner with us as well. We need you to help us by giving whatever you can. Please, ask the Lord to stretch you in your gifts today, knowing that he will bless you greatly in return. Brother Carl will be standing by the door with an offering basket.” And then Pastor Glenn asks a special blessing on all of us.

Suddenly I remember the money left over from the check my mother wrote for me a few weeks ago. I took the remainder in small bills and then zipped them into the pocket of my purse, not even knowing why. And thinking of my mother reminds me of how the Bible study ladies determined that she was my oppressor and prayed for my deliverance. Suddenly I know without any shadow of doubt that I am to rid myself of that money. Giving it away will be just one more step toward my deliverance. It felt like my whipping money at the time, and now I can be free of it, giving it to the Lord to be used and blessed by him.

The realization that I can do this fills me with so much excitement that my fingers tremble as I unzip the pocket and remove the thick wad of cash. How I would love to be able to give offerings of this size every day. And perhaps the Lord will bless me now, maybe even make it possible for me to be generous like this on a regular basis. I smile to myself as I drop my impressive pile of money into the basket Carl is holding.

He looks at me with raised brows and then smiles. “Bless you, sister!”

“Yes,” agrees Bronte, who is standing next to Carl.
“Bless you!”

S
o far my family is unaware that I have joined another church. Of course, it’s only been a day since I sneaked off to that meeting, and I suppose it’s premature to think that means I’ve actually joined. It’s not as if I signed a membership card. But in my heart I feel that I have joined, that I belong there. I understand their vision, their mission, and I want to be a part of it. Still, I’m not sure how to explain this to Rick or the kids. And for that reason I feel torn as I drop the girls at our old church, where they still attend school every day. It feels wrong to be here, hypocritical even. And yet what can I do about it? As much as I’d like to wipe away this part of my life completely, it’s just not that simple.

“Ruth!” I hear my name being called as Sarah and Mary climb out of the minivan. Turning, I see Colleen walking toward me, waving.

I roll down my window and say hello, telling her that I should keep moving so I don’t hold up the cars behind me. I’ve been chastised before for slowing down the caravan of drop-offs.

“I’m parked there.” She points to her SUV not far away. “Come on over, and we can catch up.”

I reluctantly drive around and park my minivan next to her car. I’m not sure I’m ready for Colleen just yet. However, as I slowly climb out of the car, I notice how the clouds have cleared, and the warmth
of the sunshine feels good on my back and shoulders. Maybe the fresh air will help clear my head. I’m still feeling kind of fuzzy and sluggish, probably the result of another night of disturbed sleep. Sarah’s nightmares again. That horrible Halloween movie seems to be haunting her.

“How’s it going?” Colleen asks.

I take a deep breath, leaning against my minivan and gazing up at the blue sky overhead. “Okay, I guess. How about you? All packed and ready to go yet?”

She laughs. “Are you kidding? You should know I’m not that organized. Right now my house looks like a hurricane hit. I don’t even know where to begin. I wish I was as neat and orderly as you are, Ruth.” She smiles at me. “Do you still alphabetize your spices?”

I just smile, then shake my head as if this is a totally ridiculous idea. But she’s absolutely right. Not only do I still alphabetize my spices but my canned goods as well.

“Seriously, I wish I were more like you, Ruth. I remember how our apartment was always shipshape with you at the helm.”

I suddenly feel like she’s moved and gone, and I’m missing her already. And now I wish we hadn’t grown apart these past couple of years. Maybe it’s not too late. “You sure you guys really want to move?”

“Actually, we almost had second thoughts, especially after we heard about the changes.”

“Changes?” I ask hopefully, thinking that maybe Dennis’s job offer isn’t as tempting as they originally believed.

“At church.”

I slowly nod in realization. How easily I fell into this. “Oh yeah …”

“Hey, I didn’t see you at the morning service yesterday. Were you there?”

I fold my arms across my chest, shaking my head.

“Well, it was awesome, Ruth. Ed Chambers handled the service, and he told us the whole story of how the elders and council had gotten up really early on Saturday morning, how they met before dawn and labored in prayer for several hours, and how God really confirmed to every single one of them that it was time to let Glenn go.”

“Every single one of them? What about Carl Schulman?”

“Well, of course, they had to ask Carl to leave too. I mean, he and Glenn are practically best friends.”

“Of course …”

“But it was such a moving service. Ed actually cried as he told us the story. It was really amazing! And I have to hand it to him, he didn’t even bring up the affair or—”

“The affair?”

“Yes.” Colleen lowered her voice. “Dennis told me that the elders decided not to go public with it, not without a confession from Glenn first.”

“And why would he make a confession?” I’m trying to keep my voice quiet too, but I feel like screaming.

“Because that’s what a Christian would do.” She shrugs. “Confess your sins and ask for—”

“How do you know he’s guilty?”

Colleen holds up her hands like she’s surrendering. “Okay … maybe we shouldn’t talk about this. Sorry.”

“Gossip is so evil. People shouldn’t repeat mean things about others.” I sigh loudly. “It’s cruel and it’s wrong … it’s sinful even.”

Colleen nods sadly. “Yeah, you’re right, Ruth. I didn’t mean to go
there. Mostly I just wanted to tell you how great the service was. It was so cool to see the church packed. Apparently a lot of people heard about it by then. You know how the word gets around.”

“Yes … I know.” I want to remind her of the evils of gossip again.

“Anyway, the whole congregation was so happy and relieved. It’s like a dark cloud was lifted. And afterward everyone hung around and talked, and there was such a good feeling in the air. It was really awesome! I wish you’d been there.”

I don’t say anything in response but just nod like I understand what she’s saying, like I agree. But everything in me wants to shout, “This is wrong! This is so wrong!” Firing a perfectly good pastor and then being glad about it? What’s the matter with these people?