need individual counseling? Can we come and talk with you privately?”
Pastor Landris looked around the room of about sixty people. “Well, as you can see just from here, it would be taxing to try to counsel everyone individually. That’s why we’re doing this form of corporate counseling by way of this special Bible study. After the initial weeks, we will likely break the group down into more specific smaller groups.”
“Will you be the one in charge of this ministry?”
“No, actually, we have some wonderful ministers who’ll be leading this support group effort,” Pastor Landris said. He then looked around the room. “Any more questions?” He scanned the room once more. “All right then. I thank you for your time, and please sign up if you’re interested in joining this Deliverance support group as you leave.”
Pastor Landris watched as the older woman who sat in the back and seemed to hang on his every word got up and walked out of the room without signing up.
Memory looked back after she walked out the door. “That prayer he prayed when I was up there had best be enough to break my stronghold,” she mumbled to herself. “There’s no way I’m coming here weekly for some meeting.” She walked to the car and found Arletha waiting inside, drumming her fingers with a frown and tight, buttoned lips.
“Sorry,” Memory said. “You know how it is: when you got to go, you got to go.” Truthfully, that really wasn’t a lie. She did have to go; she just didn’t say go where.
Chapter 3
For if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?
—Luke 23:31
Darius rang the doorbell twice. Fatima sat on her couch trying her best to ignore it. She already knew it was Darius. He had called and said he was on his way over.
“Darius, don’t come here. I’m not playing; we’re through,” Fatima said.
“Well, if we’re really through, then you can at least have the decency to tell me to my face.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything to your face. Look, you’re the one who’s married here. This is wrong…for both of us. I hate this. Do you understand? I hate this!”
“Is that why you went sashaying up to the altar yesterday at church?”
“That’s none of your business,” Fatima said.
“Oh, it is my business. Especially if you told what you went up there for.”
“You don’t know why I went up there. That’s between me and God.”
“Well, I know you. And knowing you, you were up there because of us. I just want to know if you happened to tell anybody why you came forward.”
“Darius, look. If you’re worried about your sweet reputation and word getting out that you have—oh, I stand corrected—had a woman on the side, you don’t have to sweat about that. This is about me. It’s about me doing what’s right for me.”
“So what are you saying? That I’m not right for you?”
“Look, I don’t want to talk about this with you, okay? You and I are history. Finished. Through. It’s over. You can just go on with your wife and try to work things out with her. That’s what you should have been doing all along anyway. She’s the one you chose and decided to spend your life with—”
“But she doesn’t make me happy,” Darius said.
“Well, that’s not my problem.”
“I’m coming over there.”
“Don’t come here.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Darius, I’m not playing. Don’t you come over here!”
“Just don’t have me standing outside making a fool of myself. Because if I come and you don’t let me in, I will cause a scene if I have to.”
“Yeah, right. Mr. Darius Discretion. I bet you will.”
“I’ll see you in ten minutes.”
“Darius—” Fatima stood there as a dial tone hummed in her ear. “Okay, God. What do I do now?” Fatima could only think to recite a Biblical passage. “The weapon of my warfare is not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds. My weapon is not carnal, but mighty through God.”
Nine minutes later, Darius, as promised, was ringing her doorbell. She refused to answer it. He rang it again and again. She stood praying to God for strength not to give in and open the door, which was what she really wanted to do. Darius began to bang on the door. She continued to pray.
“Fatima, I know you’re in there!” Darius yelled. “Open up and stop playing games!”
Fatima continued to pray.
“Fatima, open this door!”
“Thank you, Lord, for strength,” Fatima prayed. “I am mighty through you, God. I can do all things through Christ Jesus who strengthens me. I can do this. I can.”
There were a few more pounds on the door, then finally…silence.
Fatima listened as she heard the car crank and tires squeal as Darius drove away. Tears streamed down her face. “God, I do love him so. Please, take away these feelings I have for him. Please. Take away these feelings. Oh, Father God, this hurts so much!”
Chapter 4
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
—Ephesians 6:12
Desiree and Edwin had walked up to the altar hand in hand. While standing there, he squeezed her hand three times. Her mind had wandered back to the time when she and Edwin first fell in love, back when she believed he was everything she wanted in a man.
“Desiree,” Edwin had said after the first time he ever told her he loved her, “I’m not real good with words. In fact, saying ‘I love you’ was a major accomplishment for me just now. I wasn’t raised to show affection in that way. So I’m going to devise my own special signal specifically for us. On those days when I can’t get the words out, I’m going to squeeze your hand three times. That way you’ll know that I love you, no matter what’s going on or if I haven’t said it verbally.” He squeezed her hand three times. “I love you, Baby-cakes,” he said, and squeezed her hand three more times.
“Baby-cakes?” Desiree had said with a smile, then a slight blush. My very own pet name. “I love you too, Edwin.”
Desiree knew as they stood at the altar that Edwin was saying he loved her. It had been such a long time since he’d said it or used their special signal. It had been two days since they’d discussed their own strongholds. Edwin seemed to be struggling big time.
