CHAPTER 6  CONDEMNATION

                           THE DECEITFULNESS OF SIN


                                      By

                                 Phil Scovell

                           Copyright (C) 2003/2007

                             All rights Reserved



                           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
     cheeks.

          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
     losing  control.

          "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
     speeding car.

          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


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