Memory's Door (A Well Spring Novel)

Home > Other > Memory's Door (A Well Spring Novel) > Page 30
Memory's Door (A Well Spring Novel) Page 30

by Rubart, James L.


  Jesus strolled back and forth in front of them. “You speak of freedom, my Warriors Riding, but where do you speak of the disciplines? Of fasting? Of solitude? Of regular gatherings of believers? Of memorizing Scripture? Of study?”

  Reece shook his head. “We do speak of all those things. That’s part of the training we take people through.”

  “Yes, but not enough. Your emphasis on freedom can lead people astray, and it has done so in some cases.” Jesus opened his arms. “That is the reason I brought you here. To lend correction to your path, to strengthen you, to sharpen you, to make you more powerful for my kingdom than ever before. Will you come?”

  Dana stared at the faces of the Temple and the Song. They each held a tinge of sorrow. As if Jesus’ words had cut them because they knew the words were true. What was the expression on her own face? Undoubtedly confusion but she wasn’t buying what this Jesus was selling. Something was off.

  “Are you ready to be restored? Refreshed?” Reece and Brandon gave a slow nod. Jesus turned to her. “Are you ready to enter my rest, Dana?” He beckoned all of them. “Come, take my hands.”

  “Wait.” Dana held her arms out as if to block Reece and Brandon from stepping forward.

  “You have warred so hard, Dana. You have led so well. But it is time to rest. There is so much more to be done, and you shall do it, but for now it is time for reprieve and refreshment.” Jesus reached out his arms. “Take hold, and I will take you to a place of respite. Come. Enter into my rest.”

  “No.” Dana shook her head and drew her hands into fists. “I don’t believe you are who you say you are.”

  “Why do you think this, Dana? What is your evidence? What can you point to that proves who I say I am is not true?”

  There was nothing she could point to. Every fiber in her said this was Jesus. Every fiber but one. A fiber buried so deep in her spirit, she barely felt it. As if she were in darkness and it was the light of a candle a mile away. “I just know it. I feel it.”

  “Feelings are not truth, Dana. They are emotions only and emotions are not reality.” The rider stepped toward her. “Do I speak in the style of our enemy? Do I look like him? Is there anything I’ve said that is not true? How would you have me prove myself to you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But I do. You can choose to doubt. It’s all right.” He smiled. “But come with me now and enter into the place I have created for the three of you, and then you will not be able to deny who I Am and your doubts will vanish in the warm breeze of that land.” He reached out his hand. “Come.”

  “What if I refuse?”

  Sadness spilled onto his face. “Then you will stay here and I will take the others, and when they return they will tell you of an ecstasy you will long for the rest of your days but will not experience till you join me for eternity in heaven.” The rider had been talking softly, but now his voice grew loud. “Enough. We must go.” He stared at her, his eyes kind but intense.

  “Are you coming with the others, daughter?”

  FIFTY-THREE

  MARCUS HELD KAT FOR A FEW MORE SECONDS, THEN PULLED back to arm’s length. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  “What? Now?” Kat glanced around their backyard. “Someone is here?”

  “Yes. They’ve been—”

  “They’ve been here during our whole conversation? Where?”

  “In the front yard but not listening. You’ll understand when you meet him.”

  “I’d better.” She cocked her head, a wry smile on her face.

  Marcus turned and called out, “Tristan!”

  The angel strode around the corner of the house a few seconds later, his grin as wide as Marcus had ever seen it.

  “You?” Kat stared at him, mouth open.

  Marcus glanced back and forth between Kat and Tristan. “You know him? How is that poss—?”

  “Hello, Kat, it’s good to see you.”

  “Hello, Tristan.” She stared at him as her eyes twinkled. “Yes, I know him. We’ve met once before.”

  Tristan gave a nod of his head. “This is true.”

  “Care to enlighten me?” Marcus said.

  “On the street, in Seattle’s University District. You were the one who saved Jayla almost a year ago from being run over by the car.”

  “Unbelievable. Utterly unbelievable,” Marcus muttered.

  “Yes. I’m sorry we didn’t have longer to talk that day. It wasn’t time.”

  “I understand.” She smiled. “I’m guessing you’ve taken my husband on some interesting adventures as of late.”

  “Indeed I have,” Tristan said.

  “Daddy?”

  Marcus turned. Abbie stood in the doorway leading onto the deck. She hesitated, stepped forward, then ran toward him. She threw her arms around him and buried her head in his chest.

  “Hi, Abbie girl.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know.” She lifted her head. “I prayed for you through the night last night.”

  “You did?”

  “I don’t know why. I couldn’t sleep and I just felt like I was supposed to.” She snuggled back into his chest. “Like you did for me with . . . the other day when . . . at dinner, you know? You fought for me. I felt like I needed to fight for you.”

  “You fought well, Abbs.” Marcus blinked back tears as he squeezed Abbie tighter. “Really, really well.”

  “You all have.” Tristan looked at Marcus, then Kat, and then Abbie. “But the fight is not over. I’m sorry to pull your husband from you and your father from you again so soon, but he is desperately needed a little longer.” The angel held out his arm. “Take my hand, Professor. You’re due on the radio in five minutes. I wouldn’t want you to be late.”

  “What? I’m due where?”

  “You’re about to appear on The Carson Tanner Show. I believe you are more than ready.”

  The air swirled and an instant later Marcus stood in a hallway that led to a thick gray door. Over the top of it was a red sign, lit up with the words On the Air.

  Marcus stared at the door seven paces in front of them. “Carson’s studio.”

  “Of course.”

  “He has no idea I’m here.”

  “No, that would ruin the surprise.” Tristan smiled. “But have no doubt as soon as he sees you he’ll be more than willing to scrap his intended show and welcome you on the air as his special guest.”

  They walked toward the door.

  “Hey!” A voice rang out behind them. “You can’t go in there.”

  Marcus turned to find a slender woman twenty paces back striding toward them.

  “I’m guessing you’re Sooz,” Marcus said.

  “Yeah, who are you?”

  “Marcus Amber, one of the Warriors Riding.”

  Surprise splashed on Sooz’s face, replaced quickly by a gleam in her eyes that shouted, This is going to be very, very good.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Professor.” She pointed over his shoulder toward the studio door. “I’m thinking you’d like to be a special surprise guest on Carson’s show.”

  “If he can squeeze me in.”

  “I’m almost certain that can be arranged. Do you mind if I let Carson know you’re here?” She slid by them on the right and stopped.

  “Not at all.”

  Sooz fixed her gaze on the sign above the door, apparently waiting for it to go off. The three stood not moving, the silence growing awkward. Sooz glanced back at Tristan, then at Marcus. “Who is your friend here?”

  “A friend.”

  “I see.”

  Sooz opened her mouth, probably to press for a more complete answer, but before she could, the red light above the door went off. “Stay here.” She opened the studio door and stepped through.

  Tristan put his hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “You’re about to walk through another door, Marcus Amber. A different kind, but still one that will ch
ange you as your door of memories did. Are you ready?” Tristan smiled at him and it filled Marcus with hope and power.

  A moment later Carson Tanner strode through his studio door, light laughter filling the hallway. “Wow! Talk about slapping a surprise on my forehead like a God Bless You tattoo. It’s good to meet you, Professor, and I hope”—he motioned behind him—“to have you on my show. What do you say?”

  “I gratefully accept your invitation.”

  “No, no, no.” Carson waved his hands. “The gratitude is mine. Shall we?”

  Forty-five seconds later Marcus sat across from Carson, a pair of headphones on his head, his mind racing, his heart pumping. To his right and behind him, leaning against the wall, stood Tristan. “Are you sure you want to be here, Professor Amber? We’re on the air in thirty seconds.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Love the sinner, hate the sin. Or put another way, I’m guessing you heard my interview with your buddy Brandon.”

  “I did.”

  “In an attitude of truth, since that’s what we’re all about here, I need to tell you this won’t go well for you.” Carson grinned. “You still want to go on?”

  Marcus didn’t answer and adjusted his headphones.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Carson kept grinning as he pushed his mic button. “Shake it, bake it, but there’s no way we’ll take it.” Carson shifted his weight back and forth on his chair like he was trying to dance sitting down and the microphone was his partner. “Take what? Lies. No thank you, we don’t want ’em! On The Carson Tanner Show we’re all about truth, and right now I have a very special guest in the studio who might be tempted to tell you mixed truth that isn’t truth at all. Just warning you. Keep your minds sharp ’cause we’ve got with us right now in the studio one of the brightest minds in the country—professor of physics at the University of Washington, Marcus Amber! Welcome, Professor.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Folks, just to remind you, we’ve been talking about this cult-like group called Warriors Riding that Brandon Scott got himself caught up in. That they’re spreading their heresy all over the country with their training, and the Lord has told us to do our part in stopping it. Did you catch my interview with Brandon where we exposed the lies? Worth listening to.”

  Carson grinned and pointed at Marcus. “The professor here is part of the leadership of this group, and I had no idea till three—yeah, three minutes ago we were going to get the chance to talk to him. So let’s get to it, Professor. What are you doing here?”

  Marcus stared at Carson. It was an excellent question. Why was he here? Tristan obviously knew, but there hadn’t been time to ask the angel what the purpose was in bringing him onto the show. He opened his mouth to confess to Carson he didn’t know, but the words that spilled out were not an admittance of ignorance.

  “I’m here to speak to you about truth and confront the lies of the spirit that have been controlling you. I’m here to talk about true freedom.”

  “Controlling me? Yeah, baby! That’s what I’m talking about.” Carson slapped his chair. “See why this stuff these Warriors are spouting about is so deceptive? Didn’t the professor sound sincere?” He pointed at Marcus. “Okay, Professor, let’s get right to it. What’s the truth you think I’m missing?”

  Again Marcus didn’t have the words, and again he opened his mouth and spoke, his gaze fixed on Carson’s eyes. “‘You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? Before your very eyes Jesus Christ was clearly portrayed as crucified. I would like to learn just one thing from you: Did you receive the Spirit by the works of the law, or by believing what you heard?’”

  “Professor? You okay?” Carson whipped his head back and forth. “No Galatians in the studio here, and not thinking we have too many, if any among our fifteen million listeners. Want to try again?”

  Marcus leaned forward. “Carson, ‘Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort? Have you suffered so much for nothing—if it really was for nothing? Does God give you his Spirit and work miracles among you because you observe the law, or because you believe what you heard?’”

  Carson blinked and a look of confusion flitted across his face. “We’re not trying to attain anything by our own effort, Prof. We’re simply trying to show people what a righteous lifestyle looks like. We’re giving Christians a set of standards they can aspire to live up to every day.”

  “‘Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your stand! Never again let anyone put a harness of slavery on you. I am emphatic about this. The moment any one of you submits to circumcision or any other rule-keeping system, at that same moment Christ’s hardwon gift of freedom is squandered.’”

  Again a look of puzzlement appeared on Carson’s face and it stayed longer this time. “We’re not promoting a rule-keeping system. And we’re not talking about whether Christians should have their baby boys circumcised or not. What does circumcision have to do with—?”

  “‘I repeat my warning: The person who accepts the ways of circumcision trades all the advantages of the free life in Christ for the obligations of the slave life of the law.’”

  A thick sheen of sweat appeared on Carson’s forehead and he struggled to speak. “Professor, I don’t know where you’re going with this circumcision thing, but my ministry was founded on the idea of drawing people deeper into Christ. Showing them how to walk the path.”

  Carson gripped the armrests of his chair. “My Redemptive Reminders are in churches and homes all across America. People memorize them and use them to lead their families and congregations.”

  “‘Why don’t you choose to be led by the Spirit and so escape the erratic compulsions of a law-dominated existence?’”

  Marcus stood and took a step toward Carson. “‘I suspect you would never intend this, but this is what happens. When you attempt to live by your own religious plans and projects, you are cut off from Christ, you fall out of grace.’”

  “I’m in his grace, don’t try to tell me I’m not.” Carson wiped the perspiration off his forehead. “Without religion, Christianity gets out of control. Read Corinthians. They went nuts. Religion is to be regarded, respected, and revered.”

  Marcus took another step toward the radio show host, the cord of his headphones stretching to its full length. “‘In Christ, neither our most conscientious religion nor disregard of religion amounts to anything. What matters is something far more interior: faith expressed in love.’”

  Marcus blinked. A translucent curtain of darkness appeared and seemed to surround Carson as if he were inside a cocoon. It shuddered every few seconds as if being struck by a hammer.

  “I have faith. I have love. I started this show with nothing, no one believed it would happen. No one. I’ve brought people stability. Guidelines. Principles. Challenges. They need it! They want it. Maybe some people don’t like it, but it’s the truth! And it will make people more moral, more righteous; it will purify their hearts. It will make them holy.”

  Marcus spoke in a whisper. “‘Legalism is helpless in bringing this about; it only gets in the way.’”

  The look now etched into Carson’s face said he no longer believed what he just said was the truth, but he was holding on to it like a man drowning. “They need an ideology they can apply to their lives and their kids’ lives. Rules are not a bad thing!”

  The words poured from Marcus’s mouth with power. “‘For everything we know about God’s Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That’s an act of true freedom. If you bite and ravage each other, watch out—in no time at all you will be annihilating each other, and where will your precious freedom be then?’”

  The curtain around Carson shattered as if made of glass and the shards floated to the floor. Carson’s eyes went wide and his breaths came quicker. “I’m doing a good work here, Professor. I’m not trying to divide people. We’re changing lives. How do I know? Nearly fi
fteen million listeners tell me I am.”

  “I believe you, Carson. From what I’ve heard, ‘you were running superbly. Who cut in on you, deflecting you from the true course of obedience? This detour doesn’t come from the One who called you into the race in the first place. And please don’t toss this off as insignificant. It only takes a minute amount of yeast, you know, to permeate an entire loaf of bread. Deep down, the Master has given me confidence that you will not defect. But the one who is upsetting you, whoever he is, will bear the divine judgment.’”

  Carson’s face went blank. He opened his mouth to speak three times, and three times he stopped. Five seconds passed. Ten. Twenty. Marcus prayed the power of the Spirit down on the room, but he didn’t need to. The hold of the enemy had been shattered.

  The dull sound of a fist pounding on glass floated toward them. Marcus turned. Sooz jabbed her finger at Carson’s microphone and mouthed the words, Get him back on the air!

  Marcus turned back toward Carson, the host’s eyes desperate, pleading.

  “I want to be free.”

  Marcus grinned and finished the passage from Galatians. “‘It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life.’”

  He turned and looked at Tristan. “I feel what the Spirit just accomplished has ramifications far beyond this studio.”

  “You have no idea how accurate you are, Professor.” Tristan gripped Marcus’s arm. “I have to go, but I’ll be back soon. Wait here, yes?” The angel inclined his head toward Carson and smiled. “I think you’ll find a friend to occupy your time till I return.”

 

‹ Prev