Brandon cocked his head. “Of course, how could anything be simpler?”
Reece glanced at each of them. “Here we go.”
It felt like he was walking through Jell-O, only the Jell-O was going through him as well as around him. Then a burst of wind and the sensation of the trees fading away. Brandon opened his eyes.
They stood on the edge of a massive meadow at least half a mile across. Lush wild grass wavered in the breeze. No birds sang here. A sense of peace and loneliness floated in the stillness.
“Take a look at what’s in the middle of the field.” Brandon pointed to the center of the meadow.
A person sat in a chair—it was too far away to see if it was a man or a woman—with their back turned toward them.
“Open our eyes, Lord,” Reece said.
The range of Brandon’s vision increased, and soon he saw light brown hair resting on the back of a woman dressed in jeans and a gray sweatshirt.
“I think we all know who that is,” Brandon said.
“She’s older than she was at the river.” Marcus tore off a piece of grass and rubbed it between his fingers.
Reece extended his hand toward Dana. “Shall we go greet her?”
They waded through the knee-high waving grass. Dana sat so still that after a few minutes Brandon thought she might be a statue. But a few seconds later she turned and looked at them. Or looked at him. Even though he was much too far away to see her eyes, he couldn’t shake the feeling she stared only at him and that the look on her face wasn’t pleasant.
Emotions of rage and loneliness swirled inside him. Not his emotions. Hers. The feelings swept around him like a tornado, pushing out in wider circles till it felt as if he were the only being in the universe.
“Brandon,” the professor called. “Are you feeling all right? Your face is gaunt.”
Brandon stared at Marcus. “I know what she’s feeling.”
Reece stopped and turned to him. “So you know how to pray.”
Brandon nodded and walked on. After what seemed like fifteen minutes, he looked back. Something was wrong. The distance between them and the edge of the forest looked as far away as the distance between them and Dana when they’d first stepped out of the woods. They weren’t getting any closer.
“Is my brain addled or does this field seem to keep getting bigger?”
“It’s getting bigger.” Reece marched on as if this wasn’t a problem.
“So we just keep walking? Or do we do something about it?”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
An instant later Brandon’s head slammed into something hard, and he found himself knocked backward onto the ground as a feeling of simmering anger engulfed him.
“What in the world?” Marcus said, sprawled on the ground.
“Force field.” Brandon rubbed his forehead and watched Reece and the professor do the same.
“She could have had the decency to put a sign up.” Brandon staggered to his feet and reached out with his fingers. Two feet in front of him was an invisible wall. Hard. And ice cold.
“How do we penetrate this, Reece?” Marcus asked. He studied Reece’s head. “You’re bleeding.”
“Yeah, I hit that wall pretty hard.” Reece wiped his head. “I’ll be fine.”
Brandon stared at the cut on Reece’s head. “Do you want to tell me if you’ll carry that with you when we leave?”
“I will. What happens here becomes reality in the physical realm.”
“That I don’t understand.” Marcus leaned in for a closer look. “But I’m sure you’ll provide us the understanding at some point.”
Reece nodded and reached up to feel the wall. “Spirit, break this by the blood of Jesus.”
Nothing.
“Jesus, we need to get through to talk to Dana. By your power bring this wall down.”
Again, nothing.
Reece turned to Marcus and him. “This resistance isn’t from the enemy.”
“Then where is it coming from?”
“Dana.”
“What?” Brandon said.
“We need to get out of here and have a conversation with her. She’s blocking us. We need to know why.”
Their spirits slid back into their bodies and Brandon gasped. Having his spirit travel out of his body and back in would take getting used to. By the time the world stopped spinning, Reece was talking with Dana.
“Are you doing all right?”
“I’m fine.” Dana glanced at each of them. “What are you guys seeing?”
Marcus described what they’d seen. Dana’s eyes widened. “That’s the field where I imagine myself being when I want to escape the world. I’ve done it since I was a little girl and camped in the redwoods in Northern California.”
“We can’t get to you,” Reece said.
“What? Why not?”
“There’s an invisible wall preventing us from getting close. We prayed against it and nothing happened. We’re guessing it’s not coming from the enemy.”
“Then where is it coming from?” Her gaze darted from Marcus to Brandon, then stopped on Reece.
“I think you might know, Dana.”
“I don’t have any idea.”
“This might be hard to hear, but it’s the truth.” Reece leaned forward and took Dana’s hands in his. It was the first time Brandon had seen him display this amount of tenderness toward any of them. “You’re the one blocking us.”
Dana pulled free of Reece’s grasp. “What? I’m not blocking anybody. I want this to happen.”
“You are. The shield surrounding you isn’t demonic resistance. It’s you. It’s the sin you’ve allowed to take root inside. You need to turn from it.”
“Sin?” Dana put her hands on her hips. “How am I sinning?”
“Another way to define repentance is when we repent, we choose to think a different way. We renew our minds with the truth. We recognize the old thought patterns as sin, then step into the new way of thinking that leads to life.”
“Where is my thinking off base?”
“You have believed it’s okay to keep a shield around your heart. You’ve believed it’s okay to protect yourself because you’ve been wounded. You’ve thought keeping a polite distance from others is appropriate because of your past. You’re holding on to anger as well and feel you have a right to do so. None of these beliefs are true and they are keeping you from healing. You must renounce them as sin.
“And if you continue to walk in this sin, it will be impossible for you to walk fully in step with the greatest command Jesus gave.”
“Which is?”
“Love one another.”
As Brandon listened to the conversation, a truth exploded in his head like a hand grenade. How could he have been so stupid? When the Spirit said, “Be there for her,” it didn’t mean for him to be inside. It meant be warring in prayer while the other two were inside.
“I’m part of the problem as well.” Brandon ground his teeth.
Reece turned to him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s me being here that’s keeping us out. Dana doesn’t want me getting that deep inside her soul. She didn’t say it. She might not even know she’s doing it. But she is. I don’t blame her for a second.”
Brandon stood. He should have been more sensitive. Thought things through. Prayed about it more. His gut ached. “I’m sorry, Dana. I should have figured that out the moment you talked about us going in.” He backed up two steps. “Listen, I’m going to give you guys some space—I’ll be in your house, Reece. I’ll pray for this”—Brandon waved his hand—“from there.”
Reece shook his head. “No, just the opposite. We’ll stay out.”
“What?” Brandon frowned.
Dana stared at Reece with a look of horror.
“It needs to be you, Brandon. You need to go in alone.”
FORTY-FOUR
BRANDON STARED AT REECE. IT MADE NO SENSE. HIM? Go in alone? crazy. He turned his gaze to Dana
, who had an incredulous look on her face. He couldn’t blame her.
“No!” Dana glared at reece for a moment, then turned her back to the fire and looked up at the night sky splattered with stars.
“I don’t think the Dana inside would like it any more than this Dana does,” Brandon said.
“And what about rule number five?” Marcus said. “Avoid going in alone if at all possible?”
“This is a rare circumstance where it isn’t possible. Dana and Brandon need to face this, just the two of them.”
The only sound was the crackle of the wood. The silence stretched to thirty seconds, then a minute. finally Dana said, “All right.”
“All right?” Brandon said.
Dana sat back in her chair and tapped her feet on the concrete. “You’re right. i don’t want you in there. And she probably won’t either. But reece is right too. And i want to be free.”
“Are you sure?” Reece said.
“Yes.” She clasped her hands and fixed her gaze on the big man. A battle raged in her eyes. The part that wanted freedom against the part that would mean letting go of her protection—letting go of the pain she’d held up as a defense against him for the past three years. letting go of the belief she had to keep people at a distance. letting go of the belief she was alone in this world. “What changed your mind? How do you know Reece is ri—?”
“I just know.” Dana shoved her hands under her legs and glared at him. “Are we going to do this or not?”
Reece reached over and touched Dana’s shoulder. “Seek truth. Choose to turn from the lie.”
Dana nodded, leaned back, and closed her eyes. Brandon did the same and as he did, Reece and Marcus started praying for strength, for power, for love to cover Dana and him. Going in alone. Wow. The anxiety he felt when the idea was first suggested vanished, replaced by an unexpected confidence. He turned inward and the familiar feeling of his spirit rushing in upon itself swept him away, and the sound of Reece’s and Marcus’s prayers faded.
An instant later he found himself in the meadow again—Dana in the distance—her lilting song floating down on him. He jogged toward her, calling her name, “Dana!” But she either didn’t hear him or chose not to respond.
When he reached the area where the invisible shield had stopped them, Brandon slowed his pace and held his hand in front of him. He didn’t need another headache. It wasn’t there. Hope rose inside him. He jogged on. In a few minutes Dana stood just twenty yards away, her back to him as last time, her hair in stark contrast to the long green grass waving in the breeze. Twenty yards to his left a river meandered through the meadow, gurgling out a smooth cadence.
Brandon stared at the water as it tumbled over stones and parts of trees fallen across the stream. Something about it seemed important.
At ten yards she turned. “Hello.”
It was the Dana he’d met at Spirit 105.3 five years ago. The same short hair, the same favorite pair of American Eagle jeans.
“Hello, Dana.”
“You know my name.” She frowned.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“We’ve known each other for a long time.” He took tentative steps toward her, his feet sliding over the soft grass till he stood a few feet from her.
“Are we friends?”
Brandon hesitated. Truth. Only truth. “We used to be. And we’re becoming friends again, I think.” He held out his hand. “I hope.”
“I see.”
Dana frowned again and stared at him. She held an ornate stick in her hand. Not ornate because of stones or jewels embedded in it, but because of the intricate pattern of thin black lines that wove throughout its surface. The stick was around three feet long and a quarter inch thick and curved at one end, which made a perfect place for it to be held.
Brandon had seen that stick before, hadn’t he? Or something very much like it. An image of Dana by the river at Well Spring flashed into his mind along with the stick he’d laid across his legs earlier that evening. Of course. Brandon stared at the stick, mesmerized by . . . by what? He shook his head as if to clear it. The surface of the stick shimmered as if covered with a high-gloss finish.
“Your walking stick is beautiful.”
“It is now. It hasn’t always been.” She held it up and kissed the middle. “It’s taken me a long time to get it this way.”
“What is it for?”
She drew the end of the stick through the tall, thick grass at her feet. “I found it one day in the woods when its surface was dull, but I loved its shape and it looked like the perfect companion. And it has been. Over the years I’ve rubbed it and caressed it until the oils of my hands have brought out its natural beauty.” She ran her fingers along its surface again. As she did a glaze seemed to pass over her eyes, then vanished. Brandon stared at the stick and called out to the Spirit. Bring truth, Lord, in the innermost being.
The stick turned jet black but an instant later it was back to normal. The transformation happened so fast, he couldn’t be sure he’d seen it. Did he imagine that? Show me again, Lord. But the stick stayed the same.
“What do you use it for?” Brandon asked again.
“Protection.” Dana grinned as if she were a little girl stealing cookies from her mom’s pantry. “David said in Psalms that his shepherd’s staff comforted him in the presence of his enemies. I understand that now.”
She held the stick like a sword and sliced it through the air in front of him, missing his face by less than an inch. “If I didn’t trust you, I could hurt you with my friend here.” She set the end of the stick onto the ground and leaned against it. It seemed to quiver.
Run!
The thought streaked through his mind and a slice of fear rushed into his heart. No. It was a lie. “Can I hold the stick?”
“No.” Her eyes narrowed. “Never.”
“Why not?”
“It’s mine.” She slid it behind her back.
Brandon took a step closer to her, the grass under his feet now suddenly brittle. “I don’t want to take it. I simply want to hold it. To see its beauty up close.”
As he spoke the words, the stick moved in Dana’s hands, then went rigid an instant later. Brandon took another step closer and pointed at the stick. “Did you feel that?”
She frowned at him. “Feel what?”
“The stick is evil, Dana.”
“No.” She took a step back. “This stick is my friend.”
“It is not your friend. It is not a comfort. It’s poison to your soul.”
“It’s my only comfort.” She gazed over his shoulder into the redwoods at the edge of the meadow and then at the hills to her right and left. “It’s often dangerous here. I have to have my stick to protect me.”
“It needs to be destroyed.”
Dana slowly backed up and held the stick to her chest, then rubbed it against her cheek. A shadow flitted across her face. She pointed at him and smiled—evil in her eyes. “You’re the one who needs to be destroyed.”
She turned as if to walk away but spun faster than Brandon thought possible and whipped the stick through the air at his head.
He threw his arm up as he dove for the ground, and the stick glanced off his forearm. Searing pain pierced his skin and radiated through his body. He stumbled and fell to his knees, the grass now rigid and sharp, and it tore into his kneecaps.
Dana strode to the stick, lifted it over her head with both hands, and brought it down hard.
Have to move! Brandon pretended to roll to his left, then rolled to his right, trying to ignore the pain that shot through his body as the grass pierced his clothes and needled into his side.
The effort of Dana’s blow threw her off balance and she stumbled forward. Brandon leapt to his feet and backed ten yards away from her.
“Do you love Jesus?” Brandon asked.
“Yes.”
“The Holy Spirit? Abba Father?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Can you believe the
y’ve sent me here to help you?”
A shadow passed over her face. “No, they didn’t send you. The enemy sent you.”
Brandon reached down and yanked up a handful of grass and roots, the sides of the blades cutting into his hand like a razor. “What happened to the grass, Dana? Why isn’t it green anymore?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know. Seek the truth.”
“I can’t trust you.” Dana shuddered. “Not anyone. Especially not you.”
“You can.” Brandon flung the grass and roots in his hand off to the side. “The grass is dying because this field, your forest, your stick, are all lies and can’t stand against the truth I’m speaking.”
Dana shook her head and her breathing grew ragged. “I can’t give you my heart ever again.”
“I’m not asking for that. I’m asking you to let go of the evil you hold in your hand. I’m asking you to break the vow you made to never let anyone inside your heart again.” He glanced at the river. Yes. That was the answer.
“I’m alone. I need it.” Dana shifted the stick back and forth in her hands. “I’ll miss it.”
“No, you won’t. I promise.” He stepped toward her. “Trust me.”
“Stay away from me.”
“You have to throw the stick in the river.”
“No.”
“Freedom, Dana. Freedom. The truth will set you free.”
She shook her head and stumbled back another step.
“Throw it in the river.” Brandon jabbed his finger toward the stream.
“Why?”
“So it is carried away. So it can be buried in the water and destroyed.”
“I don’t know.”
Brandon pointed at the stick and shouted, “I bind you in the name of Jesus.”
Blackness surged over the surface of the stick and Dana’s face turned white. “It’s not evil . . . it’s not.”
“You know the truth, Dana.”
She held the stick in her hands and glanced up and down its length as she massaged it with her thumbs. “I don’t know.”
“You do.”
She shuddered again. “Will you wait here with me while I decide?”
Soul's Gate Page 29