<°)))><
The Rev got up from his chair and did another scan of the room. It was obvious that the room was built to keep people in. How long was he going to be here for? There was a toilet, a table with some packets of crackers, some bottled water. The crackers and water would keep him alive if he was in for an extended stay.
He was racking his brain for facts. He sat down and placed his head in his hands. Father . . . help me to be at peace with my circumstances. Things would be okay. Time for some rest, an opportunity to spend time with God without the distractions of the world. He thought of Jentezen Franklin and how his church began each year with twenty-one days of fasting, a time of restoring energy and spiritual sharpness. He smiled, reminding himself to be thankful in all circumstances.
The Rev was thinking of the past and the future, but knew his thoughts needed to be in the now. How hard it was to be in the present moment, as the mind seeks out distractions. Oh, how to steady the mind. He started saying a prayer that he knew monks and nuns used: they called it the Jesus Prayer:
Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.
He prayed the simple prayer over and over. It was his favourite prayer because it summed up the whole Gospel: who Jesus is and who we are.
At one point the Rev, with his head bowed, felt a presence in the room. He looked up and knew God was with him. He thought of the Bible verse when God allowed Moses to see God’s glory.
And the LORD said, “Here is a place by Me, and you shall stand on the rock. So it shall be, while My glory passes by, that I will put you in the cleft of the rock, and will cover you with My hand while I pass by. Then I will take away My hand, and you shall see My back; but My face shall not be seen.”
The Rev thought of God’s glory, so powerful it could not remain in front of Moses, it had to pass by him. Even with that, Moses was protected by the hand of God and the cleft of the rock when the glory of God passed before him.
“Thank you Father.” He would wait for those that the Lord would bring.
<°)))><
Should Windsor have seen it coming? He believed not. He saw a look on Lucas’s face that he hoped never to see again. The door was slammed in his face and he was told to rot with his son.
He’d left his phone in the car. There was no way out except the way that pastor escaped and there was no way Windsor was going to consider that. Who knew where that pastor ended up?
Solitude scared Windsor. He needed to be active in mind, body and soul. Activity stopped him from thinking. But now he sat, staring at his son floating in the tank, and he was a confused man. Solitude had been forced on him and he didn’t know what to do.
The equipment in the room gave off a steady, monotonous humming—there were no distracting noises. Windsor’s head was clearing but he did not like what was being revealed: fear. All these years, that was what he had been running from. He could focus now. He listened to the voice in his head, and for the first time he thought that maybe he wasn’t listening to the right voice.
He started to sense evil in this place. He saw shadows.
He spoke to God, something he hadn’t done for a long time. He asked for forgiveness.
A still small voice told him to press the transfer button.
<°)))><
It was sudden. But he was sure he saw bony skeletal arms reach out for him. He sat dazed. An arm was reaching out to him, helping him up. He looked up. It was the pastor.
“Well, it works then?” Windsor asked.
“It does”.
“I’m sorry what I have put you through, sir. I can’t explain to you why, except that I was being dragged along by something. I feel released now.”
“Come and sit down.”
“How come you’re still here? Don’t tell me there’s no way out of here either?” He laughed and put his hands to his head. “Maybe I’ve jumped from the frying pan into the fire. No, I don’t believe that . . . there was a real sense of evil at that other place, and I don’t sense that here.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. It’s good to have company. Now, let me engage in some trivia and get some atmosphere in here. That saying about the frying pan—it’s adapted from a fable about fish thrown live into a frying pan of boiling fat. One of the fish urges its fellows to save their lives by jumping out, but when they do so, they jump into the burning coals, a worse situation.”
Windsor was patting himself, looking over his body. He was still a bit shaken. “I wonder what the opposite analogy would be.”
“Good question. I did a sermon on this once and gave examples of possible analogies like a leap of faith. I think the best example was out of hell into paradise.”
“Must get a copy of that sermon.” Windsor looked around. “Maybe we can make a lot of noise and attract Starkey—he’s the one who lives here.”
“I heard someone drive off some hours ago.”
“Oh. Then there is no way out, is there?”
“No . . . but I have faith.”
<°)))><
Time alone passed slowly, time with company, a lot quicker. It was getting darker in the room. The Rev noticed some blankets on a shelf towards the rear of the room, and the leftovers and water on the table would keep their appetites abated. They’d be okay for a few days if necessary. But company made all the difference.
They sat at the table, nibbling on the crackers and sipping bottled water.
“It’s nice to have company, Grant. Solitude can be good sometimes. Jesus spent a lot of his time in solitude, talking to his Father and recharging the batteries, then he would go about his tasks with the community of people. We all need each other but we need to be balanced. Solitude, time with God, helps give us that balance.”
Windsor placed his bottle of water on the table. “My time alone, although it was only brief, brought with it a feeling of loneliness. I felt isolated, no sense of God or anything. To be honest, it frightened me and gave me a real quick wake-up call. In fact, I feel like I’ve been hit by a lightning bolt.”
“Why are you involved in these things, Grant?”
Windsor stood up. “I was getting so frustrated with everyone making up their own laws. No one seemed to show respect anymore. People just didn’t care. They cross pedestrian crossings when they felt like it, they run red lights, they drive while talking on mobiles, they throw cigarette butts out of car windows, they tailgate . . . the list goes on.”
“A lot of those things annoy me too, Grant.”
