by Jill Austin
Beloved feels whole for the first time in her life. Her senses seem to come alive. Her vision becomes crystal clear. She’s captivated by new smells. She can almost feel the spiritual energy flowing around her. The dark blanket of numbness has lifted and even her thoughts seem clearer. For once in her life, she can truly, honestly feel like herself!
Brooding over her, Holy Spirit releases divine revelation of the spirit of adoption and the Father’s love for her. In her spirit she is hit by wave after wave of His liquid love. She hears, “This is My daughter, Beloved, in whom I am well pleased.”
Deep within her mended heart, a cry comes forth: “Oh, Abba, my Father. I will love You forever.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
LORD! TURN OFF THE HEAT!
The fiery yellow and white flames shoot through the floor of the brick kiln, licking and climbing the walls and exploding out of the chimney. The rising fire and smoke mingle above the Potter’s House.
The vessels inside are white-hot and phosphorescent, and they groan as they endure the refiner’s fire. A literal chemical change takes place inside of each vessel. They will never be the same, for they are changed forever as His cross is applied to their lives.
GRUMBLING AND COMPLAINING
“This is just ridiculous!” Steadfast, the chatty serving platter, grumbles from the back of the kiln. “Who came up with this bright idea? If this is what the Potter calls promotion, I want to go back to the wilderness! It was uncomfortably warm, but nothing like this. Let’s make our requests known. Come on everyone, join in.”
All the other vessels beg Master Potter, “When are You going to turn off the heat? We’re all dying in here!”
The rich baritone voice of Harvester bellows above the din, “Lord, have You forgotten us? It’s not for myself, You understand, but it’s for all these little, fragile vessels. Hey Comrade, are you still alive?”
“Just barely, my friend. I know Master Potter made me a squatty mug but I feel more like one of those hot, fiery stones in the throne room.”
Long Suffering moans, “I don’t think we’ll ever get out of this fire. We’re doomed for sure.”
Sweet Adoration, the delicate perfume bottle, shyly warns, “Haven’t we learned by now that murmuring and complaining only bring more fire? Lord, don’t listen to her—really, we’re as happy as we can be.”
Joyful, the wine goblet, chimes in, “Yeah! Praise the Lord!”
The voice of Fearless rises above the roar of the fire, “Quit whining, and quit pretending that everything’s okay. These fires are only a season He has allowed. Remember? It’s all a part of our preparations to become beautiful vessels. Don’t let your hearts faint! At just the right time He’ll turn the fire off and open the door.”
“Of course you’re right,” says Harvester, as sweat pours off his vessel and drips onto Comrade’s head. “I keep forgetting that this is all part of the process of becoming vessels of honor.”
“I don’t know if anything is worth this,” says Long Suffering, fanning herself with last week’s church bulletin.
A PROPHETIC VISION
Looking into the relentless fire, Beloved sees a prophetic vision. She watches in amazement as she sees the magnificent flagships being loaded at Comfort Cove. Beautifully glazed vessels of all shapes and sizes sparkle in the sun.
As the men load the vessels, she sees a wine carafe and realizes it’s Fearless and a team of goblets being packed into wooden crates headed for the nations. She sees purple grape designs on their sides and the sun glistening off their pearl white glazes.
Beloved yells across the kiln to Fearless, “Master Potter just showed me a vision of you and your team. You were being sent out to the nations with eight wine goblets. They were just like you, beautifully glazed, wearing their armor and ready to go.”
Hearing Beloved’s vision, the vessels now have renewed hope that they’ll be on the flagship.
“All right, Fearless!” says Steadfast, slapping him on the back. “You’ll even have a team of goblets!”
The vessels’ excitement builds. “Wow, a pearl white glaze. What a change.”
“I love grapes,” says Joyful, the wine goblet. “Maybe I’ll get them too.”
“Did you see me? Did you see me, Beloved?” asks little Comrade. “Was I being loaded on the ship too?”
As the fires continue to rage and more time passes the vessels grow increasingly impatient, generating a new level of frustration. They complain loudly, desperate to be heard over the fire’s roar.
“I don’t see a ship anywhere around,” says Fearless, sulking in the corner. “I’ve been waiting forever and still no ship. Not even a dinghy. I’m not pearl white either; I’m still this dreary grey color. I think you just made that whole story up, Beloved.”
“Why would I make that up? I really saw it.”
Harvester jumps to Beloved’s defense. “You apologize to her. She’s my friend and I know she wouldn’t do anything like that.”
“Why should I apologize?” asks Fearless, approaching Harvester, who towers over him in a confrontational manner.
Harvester picks him up and draws his fist back. Fearless’s feet dangle above the floor.
Master Potter peers through the spy hole. “Is everything okay in here?”
Harvester drops Fearless, and they stand side-by-side like best buddies, talking a mile a minute over the top of each other. “Everything’s great.”
“Really.”
“We were just having a little fun.”
“Right, fun, fun, fun with my friend,” says Harvester as he pokes Fearless on the arm.
Master Potter says, “I was just checking to see if you’re done or if you maybe need a little more time.”
All the vessels rush toward the spy hole as one unit, jostling each other and yelling about their excellent maturity levels and how well they all get along.
“Yes, we’ve really learned to love each other,” says Joyful as all the pots vigorously nod their heads in unison.
“My dross is gone. It’s a miracle!” shouts Comrade.
The vessels all shake their heads and agree that their dross is gone too.
Harvester bellows out, “Please Lord, turn it off! We’re finished. I’m sure we’re cooked.”
“Well done, even,” adds Fearless.
“I’ve heard your cries and I know the pain you’re in. Just a little while longer and you’ll be released.” Turning the knobs slowly He shuts down the kiln.
Even with the fire off, the kiln is still like an inferno with the walls and floor glowing red-hot. They continue to cry out, “Lord, if You love us then turn off the heat! We’ve been interceding, like You taught us, day and night!”
“Why don’t You help us? Why don’t You turn off the fire?”
“It’s off,” Master Potter gently answers.
“I think He’s hard of hearing. Yell louder, everyone.”
Their voices rise up in unison, “Open the door! We can’t take any more!”
“We’re dying in here!” yells Comrade.
“It’s off,” He responds patiently.
“No, Lord, You don’t understand! It’s still hot. If You loved us You would turn off the fire and get us out of here. Please open the door!”
WAITING ON GOD
“I know it doesn’t feel like I’ve turned it off, but I have. You need time to heal after your heart surgery. If I open the door before the kiln cools and fresh air rushes in while you are still red hot, you will crack or even explode.”
Valiant and the other guardian angels are enjoying the vessels’ perplexity. They know that only through the vessels’ faith and patience will they inherit their promises. Still they are ever on the alert to carefully guard the destinies as joyful servants fulfilling God’s purposes in the lives of each individual.
In the slowly receding heat they minister sweet sleep and refreshing to the exhausted vessels. The vessels dream of being beautifully glazed, admired by everyone and moving in powerful signs and
wonders.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
HOLY SPIRIT INTERVENTION
Not everyone in the fiery kiln is experiencing pleasant dreams. While the other vessels sleep peacefully, Beloved tosses and turns. A dark stream of frightening images and foul odors assaults her mind. The enemies of her soul that have stopped her throughout her lifetime are quick to question the healing of her abusive past. The nasty horde sends a demonically fueled nightmare to challenge the work of Holy Spirit. The haunting dream is a familiar terror she has relived many times over the years.
It starts off as usual with the musty odor of unwashed sheets and blankets. The air hangs still and heavily oppressive, making it difficult to breathe. She feels a disruption and agitation in her spirit and then the old fear rises slowly from deep within. Suddenly her muscles tense in a primordial readiness to run from her enemies.
The door to her room slowly opens and the nauseating odors of whiskey and cigar smoke assault her senses. Her stomach churns in revulsion. Slow stumbling footsteps approach her bed and the face of her father emerges through the darkness towering over her.
Putting his fingers to his mouth he shushes her and drops down hard on the bed. The old metal springs rattle and the thin mattress slopes to one side under his heavy weight. She can feel his clammy hands touch her bare skin as he pulls up her nightgown.
She tries to scream and run away but as always terror holds her bound in its paralyzing grip. Struggling to wake up, she sees her father’s ugly contorted face transform into Pastor Beguiler’s paunchy face. The little girl on the bed becomes her daughter.
SPIRITUAL WARFARE
“No! Don’t touch her! Stop! Stop! Master Potter, help!” In that place of being not quite awake and not quite asleep, she wars in the Spirit, struggling on behalf of her daughter.
Many miles away, Purity puts her nightgown on after another lonely day. Since mother left, life has become a matter of survival. She has grown up quickly under the stern discipline of Grandfather Beguiler.
Whenever she finds a quiet time she dreams about those years before mom had to leave; sometimes it makes her feel better. But tonight she wonders if she’ll ever see her again, and the memories only bring her into a deeper depression.
Grandfather Beguiler took her to his house and gave her the name Promiscuous before she even understood what it meant. She remembered what her mother told her and had refused to answer to that name but in the end, and after many beatings, she began responding when called.
Enchanter remarried immediately and started a new family. He never acknowledges Purity as his daughter and only speaks to her to issue an order, as he would any servant. Usually he just ignores her, while her stepsister and stepbrother are lavished with attention. For three years, Purity has had to pretend he isn’t her father. Love has been replaced with only loathing for him.
Grandmother is so cowed by Grandfather Beguiler that Purity feels only pity for her. Sometimes Grandmother slips her a secret delicacy from the kitchen and smiles at her or leaves a surprise under her pillow. Purity always knows it must go unacknowledged, but she clings to those little moments of pleasure and fantasizes about what might have been.
Purity has just turned 13 years old, and she is now beginning to fill out her clothes with new curves. Confused about the physical and emotional changes taking place, she longs to talk to someone, and yearns for her mother even more.
Oh Lord, if only she were here! She’d explain what’s happening to my body and why Grandpa stands at the entrance to my bedroom at night and stares at me. I’m so afraid! Please bring my mommy back. I’ll be good if only you’ll do this one thing. Crusader is the only one who really talks to me but he’s too little to help.
FAMILIAR SPIRITS ATTACK AGAIN
Beloved awakens frantically from her nightmare. Sitting up quickly she feels defiled and unclean. She immediately becomes aware of an evil presence in the room. “Master Potter, save her. Please save her!”
The familiar family spirit screeches, “He isn’t going to save her; she’s just like you—promiscuous! Like mother, like daughter. Right, Forsaken? I’ll always be here to remind you how much you enjoyed those nights with your father!”
Holy Spirit charges into the fray, telling Beloved to put on her armor. “Stand in your healing and hold your ground.”
Trembling with familiar fear, she looks to Him for help.
Holy Spirit hands her a new weapon, an ancient shofar. “Release the sound of the Blood, Beloved. Remember your forgiveness broke the generational curses. As long as you allow them, those familiar spirits will return. But you now have the authority by the power of the Blood of the slain Lamb to command them to leave.”
Dressed for battle in her armor, she is consumed by righteous anger. She blows several blasts on the shofar and commands the evil spirits, “By the power of the Blood I command you to leave and never come back. I am healed. I am His Beloved. You no longer have any authority over me or my children.”
Falling to her knees Beloved intercedes for Purity.
“Please Lord, send warring angels to protect her from the enemy. Don’t let Pastor Beguiler harm her. Please protect my little girl. You said You would do battle for my loved ones, so now I’m pleading with You—please, please, do what I cannot.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
VISITATION IN THE NIGHT
Activated by Beloved’s prayers, a cool gentle breeze sweeps down from the mountaintop swirling and drifting into the commune. Leaving dazzling trails of sparkling light against the black sky, it wafts into Purity’s small room at the back of the tent. Unobserved by Purity, two huge warrior angels enter the room and stand in front of the mat where she sleeps, their flashing swords drawn and ready for battle. Their glistening wings extend to form a canopy of light and protection over her.
She quietly weeps, “Mom, where are you? They call me bad names and say I do bad things. They tell lies about you and say you died in the desert, but somehow, I know you didn’t. You told me to take care of my brother but I can’t. I can’t even talk to him unless we sneak to the outskirts of the oasis.”
“It used to be so wonderful—the way you would hold me, sing to me and tell me stories about Master Potter. I don’t understand! I know you love me, but I’m just so lonely. I wish you were here with me. You always told me to be brave, and I’m being as brave as I can. But why can’t you be brave and come and get me?”
Her pillow is soon drenched with tears as little Purity sobs out her frustrations and fear. The terror of grandfather’s nightly visits has left her cold and trembling under her blanket. Steeling herself against what is sure to come, she continues to sob.
“Grandfather makes me feel so awful when he looks at me. He’s accused me of being with one of the boys. He said I did dirty things with him. But I swear I didn’t, Mom. I really didn’t. You told me Master Potter would take care of me. Where is He now? I need someone to help me.”
THE ASSAULT
The flap to her room opens. Purity holds her breath and closes her eyes, wanting desperately to escape. She pulls the cover over her head and curls into a fetal position as she prays for a way of escape. Terror rises up in the pit of her stomach and travels to her chest, finally lodging in a silent scream.
The horror of little girls from generations past convulses within her. Mommy, mommy, help me! You always told me what to do. Please tell me now.
Purity can hear his heavy breathing as he approaches and stands staring down at the pitiful little mound before him.
Maybe if I don’t move and pretend to be asleep, he’ll go away, she thinks. But then he gruffly whispers her name. “Promiscuous, wake up.” The throaty sound of his voice sends chills down her little frame.
Trembling, she pleads softly, “Please, please don’t do this, Grandfather.”
She feels the cover being pulled away and as he bends down his hot breath nauseatingly drifts over her. Purity cries out, “Please, Master Potter, make him go away! Mommy said if I cried o
ut to You, You’d help me. Please come!”
Many miles away Beloved enters into a place in the spirit realm where time and distance no longer exist. Gripped with travail, she wrestles against the demonic forces assigned to her children, with moans and groans erupting from deep within her inner being. “Master Potter, please save her.”
The resurrection power of Heaven backs Beloved’s words. Unseen by Purity, the two angelic warriors suddenly throw her grandfather against the tent wall. Peeking out from under her cover, Purity can only make him out dimly in the dark room and is too stunned to figure out what just happened. She can only stare in wonder as he curses and starts back toward her mat. Once again, unseen hands throw him violently away from her. Picking his frame off the floor, Grandfather Beguiler runs out of the room in terror.
Purity’s voice crying out had brought the household out of their beds in time to see him exit her room. In a terrible rage he orders them all to clear out, except for his wife.
FALSE ACCUSATIONS
Nervously wiping his brow, he orders his wife to sit down. Pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts he paces around the room and then sits in front of her. Looking at the distraught face of this woman he once thought beautiful and now finds repulsive and old, he tells his story.
“I heard a noise and went to investigate. It was coming from Promiscuous’s room. I entered and found her with a young man. I ordered the scoundrel to leave, which enraged Promiscuous. She threatened to tell everyone that I had tried to rape her. That’s when she cried out. I turned to run and that’s when everyone saw me in the hall leaving her room.”
Pastor Beguiler’s tirades usually leave his wife gazing at the floor and submitting to whatever he wishes. But this time her sad eyes never leave his face. Slowly his voice becomes less angry and more pleading. He realizes she knows the truth.