7
Morning comes with a loud knock on my cabin door. My heart beats fast right away, thinking it’s Erica. Maybe she’s feeling better now.
I get up, stretching as I walk to the door, using my fingers to wipe the sleep from my eyes. Then I open it, squinting against the bright sunlight.
My heart rockets for a second, but then a little disappointment settles in when I see Sister Madysen standing there. She’s wearing her nice signature blue sundress, but with stockings and a light sweater today. She meets me with a bright smile.
“Good morning, Brother King. Did I wake you?” she asks with concern.
“Wake me? I… it’s okay. I’m supposed to be getting up anyway,” I answer.
She explains she needs help picking up an order from town; some light crafts for the kids, like colored paper, glue sticks, markers, and foam shapes for Sunday school projects.
“Okay,” I say through an exhale. “Who else is coming?”
“Just us,” she quickly answers.
Why is she picking me for this job?
Nodding, a bit baffled, I look around wondering if her son is coming with us. “Just give me a… give me a couple of minutes to get myself together.”
“Of course,” she says in her normal chipper tone.
I say a quick prayer and recite some Scripture in my head, then spend about ten minutes getting ready. After that, we’re on our way to Hossville, or at least that’s where I think we’re going.
Just like me, Sister Madysen plays some contemporary Christian music on her radio. It’s very soothing.
“So how is Sister Aaliyah?” Sister Madysen asks after talking up a storm for a while about things she’s been up to around the youth camp with the kids.
“She’s fine, I think,” I tell her, wondering why she doesn’t ask Sister Aaliyah herself.
“Good. I imagine you guys still talk a lot.”
“Um, yeah. She’s a good friend in Christ to have,” I reply, my elbow on the side panel of the passenger door, the window wound down just a little bit so we can get some fresh air.
My elbow jerks a little bit as the glass starts to make its way up, closing. Sister Madysen is doing the same with her window, leaving us in a weird quiet capsule that only the background noise of the quiet engine fills.
“You know, Brother King… you need to start thinking about a wife and kids. I think you would make an amazing father and a husband. I see how you are with Cole, and I just know you would make a great dad,” she says.
This conversation feels uncomfortable.
“That’s very nice of you to say, but… I appreciate that,” I reply, leaving it at that.
“Just saying, I know you’re probably wondering how that all fits in with you being so busy in the kingdom, but you wouldn’t be doing it alone.
Imagine you babysit Cole and probably by that time he’ll be old enough to play with your kids.
You know? I could see God blessing you with a beautiful family and a wife who loves you,” she states kindly, looking over at me every now and then before putting her eyes back on the road.
Swallowing, I look out the window and then back at her. “That’s really nice of you to say, Sister Madysen.”
“So why are you dragging your feet?”
“I’m not necessarily dragging my feet. It’s just… I…” My voice trails off. I don’t want to get too deep into all my feelings with her.
“It’s okay, Brother King. Just saying one child of God to the other.”
“I understand,” I answer.
Sister Madysen turns the wheel right, heading down a residential area.
“There’s a little store back here that has good prices,” she explains. “That’s why I decided to get the crafts from here.”
As we near the destination, Sister Madysen takes a deep breath in and then suddenly says, “Brother King, have you ever had struggles with impure thoughts?”
That came out of nowhere. How am I supposed to answer that? Why is she asking? Does she know about Erica and me? Oh no. What if someone saw us? How would that be possible? Even when we were in Pennsylvania, how… what if that man who stopped me in Scranton knows someone from my church?
“Everybody does. That’s why God gave us the Scripture and why we have to pray and fast,” I answer safely.
She’s quiet for a minute. Oh no, she knows.
“I’ve been having impure thoughts,” she says seriously, still driving ahead, stopping at a stoplight.
Oh boy.
I really don’t want to know what impure thoughts she has. The fact that she took me out here alone when she could have taken anybody else and is now talking to me about this, it feels like it’s going down a road it shouldn’t.
“You should talk to the First Lady Elena or Sister Paula about it,” I tell her. “If not them, then God.”
“You’re the most godly person I know. I only trust you,” she replies.
There’s hesitation for a while until she asks how I deal with impure thoughts.
I stutter a little bit, then answer. “I pray about it.” I think for a moment, then give her the Scripture.
“Matthew 5:28 says, ‘But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.’ God helps me through it, to have power over the mind and body. It’s not easy, but with God all things are possible. ”
We reach the area, and Madysen says, “Hold on, you don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.”
“Didn’t you need my help?” I ask.
“No. I brought you out here because I wanted to speak with you. It’s something sensitive, but I don’t really trust anyone else with it. Give me a second,” she says as she gets out of the car.
I feel content sitting in the car anyway. It would look weird if I went in alone with her, and if anybody knows her and then sees me with her, what if they get the wrong idea? But then again, Sister Madysen is a woman of the church, though she’s married.
I already know how Sister Madysen feels about me, maybe not deeply, but her lustful stares at me have not gone unnoticed.
While I wait, I look over text messages that Erica has sent me. Our conversation threads, then checking if I had any missed calls.
I notice Sister Madysen coming out with two big bags and what looks like boards or something under her arm. I get out immediately, help her by taking them, and put them in the backseat.
“We could have taken my truck,” I remind her.
“No, I insisted on taking my car for a reason. It’s comfortable and it’s better on gas.”
“Would you like me to drive back? It’s the least I can do. Please,” I say. “Only if you’re comfortable,” as we both get into the seats.
Sister Madysen turns to me. “I appreciate you coming out here with me. I know how in demand you are and…” She turns more to face me. “I just wanted to know if you can pray with me.”
“Of course,” I reply. I turn to face her a little bit too, as much as my seat allows. She holds my hands, and I hold hers. Then, closing my eyes, I start quietly.
“Father God, I lift up Sister Madysen to You right now. Give her strength, Lord. Strengthen her family, her husband and her son Cole. Grant her patience in all things. Protect her mind from sinful thoughts and impure desires. Guard her heart and her steps. Help her to walk in Your righteousness and to find peace in Your presence. Surround her with Your protection, and let Your Holy Spirit guide her every day. In Jesus’ name, Amen. ”
As I pray, I notice Sister Madysen using her thumbs to slowly stroke over my hands. She keeps saying, “Yes, Lord. Yes, Lord. Thank You.”
I finish the prayer.
“Amen,” she adds.
I know exactly what she’s doing.
“Thank you. I’d like if we got together some more to pray,” she says, which definitely makes me uneasy.
Sitting up a little straighter, groaning with hesitation, I look away and then at my lap, trying to focus on my hands. How do I tell her gently?
“You know… you should pray with your husband. It’s not good for you two to be apart,” I say.
“But you are a very powerful man of God. Besides, my husband’s always busy.”
“I understand, Sister Madysen. But as your husband, he should be the one to lead you in prayer.”
“If that’s the case, why do you lead Erica in prayer?”
At the mention of her name, my heart begins dancing again. “I don’t understand,” I tell her as she puts the car into drive and starts back for the youth camp.
“You tell me that I should either pray with my husband or with women of the church. But yet you as a single man are praying with, and advising Erica, a single woman who is not a Christian and is a heathen and impure. That is dangerously close to being unequally yoked,” Sister Madysen states.
“There is nothing going on with us,” I clear the air in a tone so there’s no misunderstanding.
“I didn’t say there was. But… if you can pray for Erica and advise her, then why can’t you do that with me?” she asks.
“Because you’re married,” I say emphatically without being disrespectful. “You already have a man in your life to do that.”
“Well, you’re not married to Erica,” she says with a haughty attitude. “I don’t even see you praying like that with Sister Aaliyah.”
She looks over at me, and I guess I’m quiet for a little bit too long, just staring out the windshield. I know she doesn’t know what I’m thinking, but what I’m definitely thinking is it feels like she’s trying to corner me.
“Look, Brother King, I’m just trying to keep you accountable.”
“You’re right. I am part of the kingdom, and I understand Erica is not—”
“All the more reason for Erica to have a female discipler or an older woman,” she cuts me off.
Turning to face Sister Madysen, I say, “Your behavior might turn her off to that though.”
“That’s not enough of an excuse, and on another note, don’t undermine me in front of Erica. It shows disharmony within the kingdom and will chase people away from God,” she retorts, keeping her eyes on the road.
“That’s what you’re doing by standing up and being aggressive with your approach in front of others,” I correct.
Sister Madysen smirks and shakes her head, then raises an eyebrow at me, turning to face me momentarily before refocusing on the road. “Sounds like you have feelings for Erica.”
My heart rate increases.
“I don’t have feelings for Erica, but I care about what happens to her soul. It’s important that we nurture it and don’t chase her away ’cause she doesn’t trust the church,” I insist.
It doesn’t take long for us to reach the camp. When we pull into our parking space, Sister Madysen shuts off the car and looks over at me.
“I really hope you’re right, Brother King, and she can be saved. Just… don’t get lost while trying to save her,” she says, putting a hand on my shoulder.
Then she jerks her head to the left to beckon me to come help her with the stuff.
Why does everyone keep saying that? I’ve come too far to let myself become lost. Now that I’ve felt the glory and the love of God, I don’t ever want to go back. Not for anything.