“Out there, people are scavenging. They murder. They rape. They steal. Everyone is out for themselves. They’ve lost their souls to Satan. They’ve turned their backs on God. Up here we wait. And we keep ourselves clean.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line. “There’s nothing on the outside but misery and sin. Your soul is too good forthem. For anything they might give you.”
“But these thoughts won’t go away,” I admitted. Fearfully, I pressed my hands together. Knuckles white. “Perhaps thereisbeauty—”
“Where are you hearing this? These kinds of thoughts come from Satan himself. He bleeds dissension and temptation into your heart and waits for you to seek him out. He paints pretty pictures all the while masking his evil intentions.” Pastor raised his voice, his cheeks flushed. He ran hands through his thin hair, standing it on end. He looked a bit crazed.
He looked like this when he was preaching. When he was in the throes of something divine. Something holy.
I found myself recoiling slightly. Overwhelmed by his vehemence.
I was reminded of David earlier. Of the comparisons I had drawn to myself.
I was horrified.
“They will die!” he shouted. I flinched. “They will all be burned alive! Is that what you want? To lose your soul to eternal damnation?” His eyes snapped with a fire that consumed.
I shrank in on myself. “No, Pastor. I don’t!”
“You will be lost, Sara! You will be separated from those you love forever. From your mother. From Anne. From me! Because Satan wants you for himself. He’s greedy. He will rip you apart and feast on your still beating heart. Your blood will coat the road to hell!”
I was going to throw up. The image was terrifying. I hated when Pastor got like this. It reminded me too much of the things that had frightened me when I first came to The Retreat.
“I’m sorry, Pastor—”
Pastor shushed me. “Be silent, Sara. You must spend time with your thoughts. Your prayers.”
I began to shake violently. Was he going to take me to The Refuge? He couldn’t send me there. I couldn’t go back. Not after the last time…
I rubbed at the scar on my wrist then stopped, realizing what I was doing.
Bile rose in the back of my throat and black spots swam in front of my eyes. I felt dangerously close to passing out.
I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have told him…
I’m glad he doesn’t know about Bastian. What would he do then?
“Please, Pastor,” I begged. I could barely speak, the horror of The Refuge too great.
Please, Mommy. Don’t leave me!
Pastor’s breathing was shallow and ragged, but he calmed down. He smoothed his hair and took my hands again. They were cold and clammy. Could he feel my fear?
“Everyone has missteps. Our paths are never smooth. I have told my children about the importance of facing temptation. Of looking it in the eye and turning your back on it. Do you want to walk through the gate? Do you want to venture into the outside?” he asked.
I couldn’t say a word. I only shook my head. My eyes pleading.
Please don’t send me to The Refuge…I’m so sorry…I’ll say anything…
“He has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time.”Pastor Carter calmed himself down. He kissed my palm. I loved and hated the feel of his mouth. “I know you don’t want to leave, Sara. You’re too strong. Too special. God put you here for a very specific reason. This is only a test. But you can’t succumb. You can’t cave. The darkness will eat you alive. I won’t be able to save you if you give your soul to Satan.”
“Iwon’t!” I protested.
He held my hand against his cheek and closed his eyes briefly. I was thankful for the momentary reprieve.
When he opened them again, they were clear and at peace. The passion of earlier had dissipated. “Come lay with me, child.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to me.
I felt beaten down. Emotionally exhausted. I would do anything to make it up to Pastor. For testing his faith in me.
I didn’t want to betray his trust.
