As I sat in my seat on the plane, I recapped Pedro’s possession. It was like the demonic spirit was trying to combine itself with Pedro. Not to mention the level of power it was operating at. It had caused just about all the men in the village to murder their sons. They were offering the kids as a sacrifice to the demon possessing Pedro. Only two boys had escaped the torturous death. They only survived because they ran away and hid very well. Many mothers tried to hide and protect their sons, but were unsuccessful. Unfortunately, many boys were slaughtered by their own fathers. Those poor men were devastated when they heard of what they had done. I tried to reason with them that they were under the control of an evil spirit, yet it still didn’t seem like enough. Most of them had not only killed their sons, but also their wives who were trying to protect the boys. I don’t know what will happen, but I pray somehow they will be able to survive this tragedy. Marko was very grateful for my assistance. I am certain we will remain in touch.
I pulled out my calendar. I am so grateful to my wife for organizing everything for me. She puts everything from church to the kid’s activities on it for me. All I have to do is pull it out. I looked over the upcoming week. In addition to the church services, Peter has a game and Missy has tutoring.
And then on Friday…Oh no! How did I forget our anniversary is Friday? We will make twenty six years, and it’s my year to plan the trip as we alternate the years planning. With all the recent time requests, it completely slipped my mind. I really want to do something special because she has been so patient with me and my obligations. I have been doing a lot lately and know it has been difficult. Yet, I didn’t expect to go to Mexico. With all my pastoral obligations this month, I can’t afford to go away for long. Regardless, I’d have to do something. I think I’ll go to the jewelry store first. You know what they say about diamonds. I say they haven’t failed me yet.
Melayla was waiting for me at the airport. She looked concerned as she scanned the crowd looking for me. She knew what time we were expected to land and it was already twenty minutes past time. She always has been attentive to details and times. I’m sure she is probably five minutes away from asking someone what is going on. I smiled at the sight of her looking up, then back down at her watch and back up again.
She had on a quarter length sleeve button up shirt stripped with purple, green, and white and jeans. Her hair was pinned up in a ponytail.
Finally her eyes found me. The biggest smile came across her face as she rushed to meet me. I returned the smile. I missed her even though it was just a day. I appreciate what we have, especially after seeing all the broken homes forced by Satan. You can’t take peace for granted.
As soon as she was close enough, she fell into my arms. I hugged her as if I’d never let go. It felt like she melted in my arms and had no intention of leaving them any time soon.
“I missed you. I love you.” I told her. I could feel her take in each word like a refreshing mist on a hot day.
“I love you too and missed you more.” I love the way her accent causes the words to roll off her tongue.
“I had a terrible feeling yesterday evening. I thought you were either terribly hurt or dead. I didn’t know what to do. So I prayed. I prayed God would send his angels to protect you. I’m so glad you are okay.” She said.
I am so glad she was obedient to the call of prayer. She must have felt I was in danger when the demonic spirit knocked me unconscious. Sometimes God alerts us to pray for others for a reason, even if we can’t understand the randomness.
“Thank you. I’m here now and I’m okay. Let’s go home.” She looked up at my face and raised her hand to my hair line.
“What happened? You’ve been hurt.”
My face still bore a bruise on my cheek as well. I had hoped it would go away before I made it back home. In reality, it takes longer for the body to heal.
“I’m fine. It was just a little fight with an evil spirit; all in a day’s work.” I tried to laugh it off, but the concern in her eyes let me know she wouldn’t shake it that easily.
“Let’s get you home and nurse these war wounds.”
I grabbed her hand and we walked to the car.
Twenty-five wonderful years… I will admit the early years left much to question, especially prior to Missy’s birth, but there isn’t anyone I’d rather journey with. Tomorrow I will go to the jewelry store and get our trip planned.
CHAPTER 8—PASTOR MIKE