CHAPTER 6 CONDEMNATION
THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN
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CHAPTER 6 CONDEMNATION
She had been a pastor's wife for 18 years. She dearly loved her
two children; ages ten and twelve. She loved her husband more than
anything in the world and she loved the people of the church he
pastored, too. Never had she dreamed she would be this happy. Then
why was she so depressed? She knew why but she had been working at
burying the memory for so long, it was deep and even now, the details
were nothing more than faint outlines in her mind. That was enough,
unfortunately, to stir up her pain from so many years ago. "How could
one be so happy and so sad at the same time?" she wondered out loud.
The recent anxiety attacks, however, were definitely a sign that
something was wrong. She had managed them well, fortunately, and no
one had even been around when they occurred. She silently thanked the
Lord for that much. She was beginning to think, however, if she were
somehow cursed to the point of being condemned forever for what she
had done. After all, as a Christian at the time, she had certainly
known better. Then why had she done it? Even worse, why did she
enjoy it at the time? That question alone would haunt her forever.
She had heard people talk of the curse of the generations so maybe
that had something to do with it. She certainly couldn't dwell upon
it for long or the images grew sharper and more distinct. She worked
at not being alone because that seemed to help. Then why was she
standing all alone at the bridge railing and watching the river flow
30 feet beneath her?
She answered her cell phone on the second ring. She promised the
person on the other end that she would be there in just a few minutes
and hung up. It was Celeste calling again. She was just 20 years of
age and not very mature. She'd been married for 6 months and she was
having lots of marital problems. She was always trying to help
Celeste as much as she could but she never seemed to get very far.
Plus, Celeste was clinging to her like a drowning person. There
wasn't a day she didn't call. She guessed that the younger woman
considered her a mother figure or something. That was fine, of
course, and it made her feel kind of good in a way.
Getting into her car, she drove away from the river bridge a
little faster than was necessary.
Celeste and her husband, Pete, who was at work this time of the
day, rented a little farmhouse outside of town. The countryside was
beautiful this time of year but Phyllis hardly noticed as she drove.
Her mind was restless and images were flashing before her in her
thoughts. She suddenly swore out loud, something she hadn't done
since she was in college, and struck the top of the dashboard with her
right fist. She groaned as the pain within her heart ballooned. It
felt as though it were a living thing. "Why now?" she wondered. She
had been so successful at living her Christian life since it
happened. She had worked hard and been faithful. She even had a
good sex life with her husband. In fact, she had even increased the
frequency of sexual intimacy in their marriage during recent months.
That now seemed somehow suspicious to her for some reason. She
suddenly realized that she was attempting to mask the pain with sex.
There was just one problem with this; it wasn't working now. The
sudden realization of this was like someone had driven a knife into
her chest but she fought back and began quoting Scripture out loud as
she drove. At least that normally helped a little.
She turned and drove down the long sandy lane to the farm house
and parking near the back door, she stepped out of her car.
Celeste was standing at the back door and let her in. "Thanks
for coming on such a short notice, Phyllis," the younger woman said.
She'd clearly been crying.
"Are you all right, Celeste?" she asked; knowing the answer.
"I'm all right," she replied but the tears flowed easily down her
Phyllis felt deep sympathy for the younger woman and had always
done all she could to encourage her. She'd even had her husband talk
with Pete but it didn't seem as if he had even listened to a word
that was said. Phyllis felt a huge wave of compassion wash over her
as the younger woman stood in the kitchen and cried freely; her head
down as she talked about her marriage.
Phyllis had no idea why she did it, although normally there
wasn't anything wrong with doing it, but she reached out and pulled
the younger woman to her and held her tight against her. She tried
telling herself it was what any mother would do for a hurting crying
child but she felt the warmth of the younger woman's body, the press
of her breasts against her own, and the arms that hugged her so
tightly, she could hardly breathe. Celeste was a small woman and a
head shorter than Phyllis. She found herself stroking her long hair
as it dropped down her back and whispering words of comfort to the
younger woman as her head rested against her upper chest.
The outlines of the dreadful images burned slowly through into
her thoughts and she was totally helpless to stop them. In fact, she
realized somewhat euphorically, maybe she wanted the thoughts to come.
Suddenly, and without warning, the entire memory burst in front
of her eyes like exploding fireworks and she was slammed hard back
into the past. She showed no emotions outwardly, she had learned how
to control them, but the force of this raw display of lustful memory
was almost overwhelming. She suddenly realized that she was stroking
the younger woman's long hair more passionately, than compassionately,
and she stopped abruptly. At the same time she realized she was
holding Celeste far too sensually against her own body. She groaned
aloud as the lust manifested. Revulsion turned her stomach and for a
moment she thought she would vomit. Fortunately, Celeste was crying
too hard to notice the changes that surely must be bodily apparent.
Releasing her quickly and stepping back slightly, she said,
"Celeste, things have a way of working out. Let's go into the living
room and sit and talk." She bit her tongue upon hearing her own
suggestion because the only thing she wanted now was to get away.
She deliberately sat, she noticed, on the opposite side of the
living room once they took their places. She knew why, too, but she
shoved the thoughts away as hard as her mind would let her and forced
herself to focus on the present.
They talked for over an hour; until Celeste seemed to reach a
point of calmness.
Getting to her feet, Phyllis said, looking at her watch, "I need
to get home and fix supper, Celeste. Try not to let these things
worry you." Seeing a Bible on a nearby coffee table, she continued by
saying, "Read the Word more, too. That always helps. Read the Psalms
and let the Lord minister to you. Your marriage is young and you're
a beautiful young lady. God hasn't forgotten about you and He knows
what you are going through." The words sounded lame even to her own
ears but what else could she say.
Phyllis prayed with the younger lady before leaving and she
hugged her briefly at the door before forcing herself to deliberately
walk to her car. She told herself she hadn't wanted to hug the
younger woman but it was the Christian thing to do. The earlier hug
had been far from Christian, she knew deep down in her heart, but she
couldn't let herself dwell on that right now. She knew if she did,
she'd start screaming hysterically. She was the pastor's wife, after
all, and she had to be strong for the sake of others.
She felt the warmth of the afternoon sun on her back as her hand
touched the chrome car door handle. She instantly became unable to
move. The heat on her back somehow triggered the cursed memory event
and she tried desperately to force down the ugly grotesque thoughts.
She was a Christian; Christians didn't think that way. Something
snapped audibly inside her and she had to seize the door handle of
the car with both hands to keep from ripping her clothes from her
body and screaming till the amorphous fear went away. She coughed
violently as the bile rose in her throat at the terrifying, unholy,
and ungodly thoughts.
Struggling, she ripped at the door; nearly falling into the
seat. When she finally got behind the wheel and somehow got the key
inserted into the ignition, she looked up and saw Celeste still
standing at the door and waving. "She must not have seen what just
happened," Phyllis thought and she waved back. Turning the key, she
nearly snapped it off. The powerful engine fired and she slammed the
car into gear. Somehow she drove away and guided the car down the
farm lane as if she were on automatic pilot.
Before the wheels touched the hard surface of the black topped
highway, not two hundred yards from the house, she felt her emotions
flare to the surface. Tears spilled from her eyes and she sobbed
openly; barely able to see the road. She had come so close back
there in letting her emotions dictate her actions, that it frightened
and terrified her. If anybody knew what she really was, they'd hate
her, she be kicked out of the church, her husband would divorce her
and he'd have every right to do exactly that, his ministry would be
ruined for ever and their marriage would be totally destroyed. She'd
even lose her children and it would be all her fault, too. She heard
her own voice curse God at all the ugly thoughts flooding her brain,
as if it were all His fault, and she felt as if she couldn't even
breathe. She fought to force the images to go away by pounding her
fists on the steering wheel but the emotions had surfaced and she was
"Turn around and go back. She's ready," she heard a voice say
seductively. "You can take her now. She'll give herself willingly to
you. She wants you and you want her. Go back; go back; go back."
It was all she could do to keep from obeying the voice in her
head. She felt the physical touch of hands on her's, as though
someone was trying to take over, and it took all of her physical
strength to keep from spinning the wheel around and going back to the
little farmhouse. Instead, in way of response, she slammed her foot
down on the accelerator and the car leaped forward. She felt the
wheels turning beneath her as the car gathered speed. The wind tore
at her through the open windows. Signs flashed by so fast, she
couldn't make them out. She couldn't have read them anyway due to
the tears clouding her vision. She had never driven this fast in her
entire life and she felt the powerful car picking up even more speed
as she jammed her foot hard against the floor. She was running,
running, running from the memories of her past of when she had given
into an older woman's sexual advances when she was at the lowest point
of her life. It had been so similar to being with Celeste, too. She
could have easily seduced her and she felt as if that was literally
what she had truly wanted and the voices she heard confirmed it was
who she really was anyway. The thoughts of such hideous sinfulness
forced her to allow the car to go even faster. She had to get away;
she had to flea that experience. If only she had not been a
Christian at the time, then God would have forgiven and cleansed her
from all the guilt. Now she was hopelessly condemned for a single act
of lust and she knew the feelings and images and voices in her mind
would never go away. "It had been with a woman, too," she screamed
aloud but the wind tore her words away and flung them behind the
A laughing voice said, "If it had been with a man instead, God
would have forgiven you. Now He never will."
The car literally rolled a dozen times when she missed the bend
in the road. She never regained consciousness in the hospital and
died three days later from her internal injuries.
COMMENTS ON Condemnation
This is an easy one to define. Disapproval, denounce, judge.
The pastor's wife in my story had committed, in her mind, a
heinous sin. She was pretty certain she had been forgiven but how in
the world could a born again Christian, somebody who surely knew
better, commit an act of lesbianism. Yes, she was young when it
happened. Yes, she was under a lot of stress. The fact is, though,
she was a Christian and she knew better. Thus, she felt, the key word
here is felt, condemned, even though she knew better. Demons are
happy to oblige additional untruthful information when they discover
this gold mine of lie based thinking.
In this woman's situation, she hid her sin, thinking it would
surely go away over time; allowing her to live a normal life
outwardly. Another simple lie of the devil. The older she became,
the more impossible her guilt became to manage. Demons love
frightening people because they love to see the reactions it brings.
The point of my fictitious story is that the condemnation of
guilt killed her and not her sin. Her sin, once confessed to the
Lord, was, in fact, instantly forgiven and instantly forgotten by God
and no longer held against her. The reason she never could forget, on
the other hand, was due to her concept of condemnation which was
encapsulated in guilt. In her mind, no such act could allow any
christian to walk in God without guilt. That thought, of course, is a
demonic lie and the lie drove her to fear.
The close proximity of the young lady stirred up the darkness in
the pastor's wife. Her past flooded out and she saw herself as demons
wanted her to see herself instead of what Christ saw. She could no
longer live with her condemnation. I wonder if you can?
End Of Chapter 6
Go To: Chapter 7 - Unforgiveness
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