My Vows Are Sealed (Sealed With a Kiss)

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My Vows Are Sealed (Sealed With a Kiss) Page 9

by Carmen Richter


  “And I’m not a legally mandated reporter, but I am married to one, so you can absolutely come to me in confidence too, but the same thing applies. I’m going to do everything I can to get you help if I think you need it,” Peter added, cracking a half-smile as he looked at his wife with so much love in his eyes that it made my heart swell.

  God, I hoped I found a love like they had one day. I hoped I would find a man who would show me love and tenderness, but also respect me as an equal. And I really hoped that one day, a man would look at me the same way Peter was looking at Marie right now.

  Maybe I’d have a chance for that after I was out of my father’s house. Somewhere he couldn’t find me, so he couldn’t sabotage it.

  “The first thing I wanted to talk a little about is what ‘the rod’ is actually referring to in the Books of Psalms and Proverbs,” Peter continued. “All throughout those Books, there’s a common theme of a metaphor referring to the Lord as our Shepherd, and that’s where the concept of the rod comes in. Shepherds use rods to herd their sheep. Whenever a sheep strays from the flock, the shepherd uses their rod to guide it back. But here’s the thing: it’s not harsh. They don’t hit the sheep with their rod. They give that sheep a gentle nudge to guide it back to the right path, and it’s done of out of love, not anger or a need to control.

  “So, when the Bible talks about using the rod to discipline your children, it’s not telling parents to hit their kids. It’s not telling us to be harsh with you. In fact, the Lord also commands parents not to abuse their children, numerous times. Most notably, Ephesians 6:4 says, ‘Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.’ We’re supposed to guide you on the right path, but we’re not supposed to beat you into submission.”

  Wait, what? This was all news to me. I mean, not the part about the Bible saying that parents weren’t supposed to provoke their kids to anger. I knew that. But the shepherd analogy? How the rod was used as a tool to guide the sheep, not to beat them? I had literally never heard that before in the entire fourteen years I’d been on this planet. Why wouldn’t my father have taught about that? Why wouldn’t he have included it in his sermon this morning, for that matter? That seemed like a pretty major piece of information.

  “This is where I come in,” Marie added, taking Peter’s hand and squeezing it. “I want to talk to you a little bit about the difference between discipline and abuse, because I think a lot of times, this gets muddied up, and it leaves kids hurting and confused. I think the most important difference is that abuse comes from a place of anger. It comes from someone wanting to make a show of displaying their strength over someone who’s less powerful. Discipline comes from a place of love. It comes from a desire to show you what you’ve done wrong and help you do better next time. Also, after you’ve been disciplined for doing something wrong, you should still respect your parents, not be afraid of them. Anything they do should never, ever cause you any sort of harm, physically, mentally, or emotionally. You should still know that you’re a good person who just made a mistake, you should still realize your worth, you should know that you’re loved, and you should never have any physical injuries. You should never be beaten as a punishment, you should never be denied food or water, and you should never be physically restrained.”

  My eyes stung and my nose started to flare as I used every ounce of willpower I possessed to keep myself from bursting into tears. Because everything Marie was saying was something I’d spent years wishing for. I’d spent years wishing that my dad would let up on me just a little. That he’d just gently explain to me what I’d done wrong and show me how to do better next time instead of yelling at me and hitting me with his belt or his Bible. That he’d give me a chance to prove I could learn my lessons instead of just telling me what a disrespectful and rebellious child I was and being convinced that I’d never do any better.

  Was what my father had been saying for all these years a complete lie? Was he abusing me and then trying to take bits and pieces and incomplete verses from the Bible to justify what he was doing? Why hadn’t I seen that until now? Why had I gone so long thinking this was normal?

  And why had he basically put me in a position where no one would believe me, even if I did find the courage to speak up?

  My heart sank to the floor when youth group ended, because my hour-long reprieve from the grueling torture that was my forced vow of silence was over. As parents started to show up and collect their kids, I wandered out into the lobby.

  “Darla!” I heard Nathan squeal excitedly.

  The next thing I knew, I had a pair of tiny arms around my legs, and a few tears leaked out of my eyes. What was I supposed to do? I knew if my dad saw me interacting with Nathan in any way, I’d be in more trouble, but I didn’t have the heart to ignore him.

  “Hey, little man,” I murmured, bending down to give him a quick hug. “How’d you know I needed a hug today?”

  “Brendan told me,” he giggled.

  I looked up at his older brother, who was looking at me like…like I was the only one in this whole room who mattered. I didn’t know how else to describe it.

  “Did he?” I chuckled. “Well, he was right.”

  “Look what I made in Sunday school,” he said, proudly showing off a cross made out of popsicle sticks and covered in blue glitter. There was about to be glitter everywhere in the Carters’ house and car now.

  “That’s so pretty. You did such a good job!” I told him. “Did Brendan tell you I hung your picture up in my locker at school?”

  “You did?”

  Before I could respond, Brendan’s face fell, and I felt my father’s presence behind me before I heard his loud, booming voice.

  “Darla! My office!” he growled.

  Nathan’s eyes got as big as saucers, and I seriously wanted to scream at my father for scaring this sweet little boy who just wanted a hug from his friend.

  “I’ll see you soon, Nate,” I said quietly, giving his shoulder what I hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

  Without another word, I turned and headed toward the church offices, walking down the hall to the very last one and closing the door behind me. As I sat down on the couch, waiting for my father to decide to join me, a sense of dread came over me, and Marie’s words from earlier echoed in my head.

  After you’ve been disciplined for doing something wrong, you should still respect your parents, not be afraid of them.

  A few tears leaked out of my eyes as I realized that I couldn’t even remember a time when I hadn’t been afraid of my father. For as long as I could remember, I’d been afraid of his wrath. Honestly, what kept me from doing so many things was the fear of what would happen when I did.

  I knew that keeping my friendship with Kate and Ashton from him was wrong. I knew I should have just told him about it. If I had, maybe he wouldn’t have been so harsh with me.

  I also knew it was wrong to allow myself to entertain impure thoughts about Brendan and allow him to touch me or hold me, but I couldn’t help it. He was my friend, and getting a hug from him was comfort, not romance. But according to my father, allowing that behavior to continue would start me on the path of unrighteousness. It would start me on a slippery slope that would inevitably lead me to sin.

  But, then again, I wasn’t entirely sure how falling in love was a sin in the first place. I mean, if it was so wrong, why was it okay for him and my mom to be in love? And I shouldn’t have been afraid of what my dad would do when he found out I’d fallen in love.

  Right?

  This was all so confusing, and I felt like I didn’t even know which way was up anymore.

  I couldn’t even tell how long it had been when my father finally showed up in the office. His face gave nothing away, but I could tell he was fuming, and this was always when he was the most terrifying. Because I knew all of his anger and rage was bubbling just beneath the surface.

  Before saying a single word, he turned around and close
d the blinds on his office door, then went to shut the curtains in the window. The only light in the room was a little sliver of sunlight that peeked through between the two curtains and cast a menacing glow on his face, making his eyes look almost red.

  “I gave you specific instructions,” he said, his voice low but deadly. “I told you that you were not to speak to anyone unless an elder spoke to you. Socializing with your friends is a privilege that you have not earned back yet. You do not come to the house of the Lord to socialize. You come here to be nourished by His Word. I’m sorry I have to do this, but it’s for your own good, so you’ll learn not to stray from His path.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” I sniffled. “I just didn’t want to upset Nathan. He’s too little to understand.”

  “‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding!’” he growled. “It’s not up to you to question my directives. You are to obey my fucking commands! Now, stand up.”

  A knot formed in my stomach as I slowly rose to my feet.

  As my father started to unfasten his belt and slowly pull it out of his beltloops, bile rose in my throat. I knew what was coming, because it had happened more times than I could count.

  “Turn away from me and pull up your skirt,” he ordered. “Since taking a vow of silence isn’t teaching you your lesson, you leave me no choice. This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you.”

  I did as instructed, turning toward the couch, pulling my skirt up over my behind, and bending down to grip the arm of the sofa. I felt my father come to stand behind me, and he yanked down my underwear, leaving my behind exposed.

  “You are not allowed to scream,” he warned. “You are not allowed to alert anyone else to what’s happening. Your discipline is a private family matter, and it doesn’t concern anyone else.”

  And with that, a sharp sting coursed through my entire body as his leather belt connected with my bare butt. I bit my lip to muffle my cry and squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears.

  “You’ve fallen in with the servants of Satan,” he huffed out, like he was out of breath.

  Another sting as he hit my other butt cheek.

  “You’ve allowed yourself to succumb to the desires of the flesh,” he panted.

  This time, the belt cracked over both of my butt cheeks at once, and I groaned quietly, biting my lip so hard that I was surprised I hadn’t drawn blood, while my knuckles turned white from their grip on the sofa.

  “You’ve directly disobeyed my directives and disregarded my instructions. And…”

  I swear this lash was twice as hard as the rest of them, and it made my entire backside burn and sting with pain. I had no idea how I was supposed to sit in that uncomfortable pew for another hour today, because he’d insisted that my mother and I be present for both services. Apparently he thought we needed to hear his message about “the rod of discipline” twice.

  “You’ve forced me to do this. This is no one’s fault but your own, because you chose to disobey me and rebel against the ways of the Lord.”

  Wait, what? How had I rebelled against the ways of the Lord? I wasn’t drinking. I wasn’t doing drugs. I wasn’t sneaking out of the house. I wasn’t dating anyone behind his back or having sex. I’d never even kissed a boy, for goodness’ sake!

  Was starting to think for myself rebelling against the ways of the Lord? Because that was the only thing I could think of that I’d done differently lately. I’d stopped just blindly accepting everything he said as gospel and started looking at things logically.

  “Pull up your underpants and pull down your skirt,” he barked. “And by the time you come back into the service, I’d better not see even a single tear. You are not allowed to be upset. I didn’t like doing that, but you’ve brought this on yourself.”

  With that, he turned around and left his office.

  I slowly stood up and pulled my underwear back up over my butt, hissing at the sting of the coarse fabric against my raw and sore skin. I tried to sit back down on the couch, but I couldn’t help the quiet yelp that escaped me when I tried to put pressure on the swollen, tender area where he’d just spanked me. So instead, I laid down on the couch, curling up into a ball, as I allowed the tears to come.

  This couldn’t have been what the Lord meant to happen. This couldn’t have been normal or right. This couldn’t have been what He meant when he told parents to use the rod of discipline with their children.

  But I had nowhere to turn. No one to talk to. No one who could save me.

  Jesus, help me, I begged. Please. I can’t do this by myself anymore. I can’t. I know You have a plan for my life, Lord, and for my dad’s life. Help me to see it. If it’s not Your will to take my father’s anger from him, then please give me Your strength to continue to endure it, because I’m not strong enough on my own.

  Chapter 9

  Darla

  New Math

  ONE MONTH LATER

  “Abe, she’ll be going with Naomi,” my mom said, giving me a weak smile. “We’ve known the Rhees for years. She’ll be safe.”

  “You know what happens at those dances, Gloria,” my dad argued. “Kids make promises to fornicate at the homecoming dance all the time!”

  Um, I was pretty sure that was prom night, not homecoming. Not to mention, I would’ve had to actually have a boyfriend to make that kind of promise. And we all knew that would only happen over my father’s dead body.

  Lately, I’d started hating his no dating rule even more than I did before, basically because I sort of had a suspicion that if Brendan thought I would say yes, he would have asked me out.

  But he knew as well as I did that there was no way in hell I could say yes. I wasn’t about to go behind my dad’s back, because that was just asking for trouble. I knew he’d find out, and if the past three weeks had been any sort of indication, I didn’t even want to think about what the punishment would be if he found out I was dating. Catching me just getting a friendly hug from a boy was enough to make him blow a gasket.

  “Dad, I just want to go hang out with Naomi and Heather. That’s all,” I half-lied. “And they’re going to homecoming.”

  It wasn’t a complete lie. I was going to end up hanging out with Naomi…and Kate and Ashton and Brendan. And who knew? Heather could show up too.

  “I think she’s learned her lesson over the past few weeks,” my mom told him. “I’ll personally go with her to get a dress so we can make sure it’s appropriate, and you know I’ve been showing her how to do modest makeup. Okay?”

  My dad sighed. “Fine. But you are not allowed to leave Naomi’s side for the whole dance, and you are to be back home by eleven o’clock. Understand?”

  I was too stunned to respond for a second. Had my father actually just agreed to let me go to homecoming? Really?

  But then when my mom smiled, it hit me. I was going to my very first dance!

  I squealed and threw my arms around my dad’s neck. “Thank you, Dad! I promise, I’ll be on my very best behavior.”

  “You’d better be,” he said flatly as he wrapped just one arm around me. “Now, go get ready for church. We’re running late.”

  I let go of him and, with another squeal, dashed to my bedroom to change into my church clothes.

  For the first time in almost a month, things were finally looking up. I was going to my first dance on Saturday and I was finally allowed to help with the kids’ service again. I was so excited to see all of the kids at church again, but I was especially excited to see the adorable blond-haired, blue-eyed little boy who had stolen my heart from the second I’d met him when he was just a week old.

  “Darla!” Nathan squealed, breaking into a run, as he and his mom walked into the children’s room. “You’re back!”

  I crouched down and held my arms open, and he happily ran into them. As I squeezed him tight, a rush of emotion overtook me, so intense that I almost cried. I’d missed this little guy so much over the past few weeks. Brendan had always made su
re to sneak him into the youth room every Sunday so I could get a hug, but that was over so fast that it didn’t really count.

  “Yeah, I’m back,” I chuckled. “I missed you, little man. Want to color a little bit before Mr. Peter starts the lesson?”

  “Yeah!” he exclaimed excitedly.

  I set him up in a chair with a couple of coloring sheets and a box of crayons, and he started going to town. And it was only then that I realized someone else was missing.

  I looked toward the door, wondering where Nathan’s big brother was. Usually, Brendan was the one who brought Nathan in here, and he just stayed here. I hardly ever even saw Miss Ruth anymore.

  “Oh, Brendan will be in soon,” Miss Ruth said, like she was reading my mind. “He and Heather are just outside, talking about what time he’s picking her up for homecoming on Saturday.”

  I felt like someone had sucker-punched me in the gut. My stomach dropped to the floor, bile rose in my throat, and my eyes stung with tears that I refused to allow to shed. Not here. Not now.

  “I’m so happy,” Miss Ruth gushed, her lips spreading into a grin that almost looked…smug. Was that right? “Brendan and that sweet girl have been friends for so long. I’m so glad they’re finally taking the next step.”

  I forced a smile. “Yeah, she is sweet. I’m happy for them.”

  That wasn’t necessarily a lie. I was happy for Brendan, because I wanted him to be happy. And if Heather would make him happy, that was all that mattered.

 

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