Spiders from the Shadows

FOURTEEN

They gathered in a small room at the end of the hall, their chairs facing each other and only a few feet apart. Azadeh watched the others but didn’t participate, sitting slightly behind them on the floor. Sara reached for her hand and held it between the chairs.

Sam pulled out his small military Scriptures, held them a moment then looked up at his family and cleared his throat. “I used to laugh at these,” he said. “I’m sorry to tell you that, but it’s true—I used to think it was ridiculous. I mean, come on: angels, visions and parting the sea. Dead men living. Healing the sick. But then a good friend—you’ve heard me talk about Bono—asked me a very simple question. ‘Someone had to write the Bible,’ he said. ‘I mean, you hold it in your hands. It’s there. Someone wrote it. Now the only thing you have to figure out is this: Did the men who wrote it know God?’

“I thought about that a lot. Did ancient prophets really write those words, and did they know God, not just know of Him, but know Him?” Sam dropped his head, his voice cracking. “Now I know they did, and that gives us more power than anything else we could hope for in this world.”

He fell silent, his eyes down to the floor, then looked up at them again. “You don’t know how many nights I have thanked God that He gave me such a family. I mean, you guys know about my mom and dad. I would have been like them. I know that. But from the first day I came to your house—and I’ll remember this forever—from that first day I was thrust into your home, you always made me feel loved. I don’t know how or why you’d do that, but I am grateful. You’re my family, and I would do anything for you.”

His voice trailed off. No one said anything. Azadeh watched him carefully. She got only a little of what he was talking about but there was something in his words, something in his eyes, a lost look, an orphaned look, that she immediately understood.

Sam looked at them, then bowed his head and said a short prayer. “OK, how do you want to do this?” he asked.

They were quiet for a moment until Luke said, “Do you remember how, when we were kids and traveling, we used to say our favorite Scriptures in the car before we’d fall asleep? Let’s do that now. That can be our Sunday sermon.”

They went around the circle, Sara going first. Sam was last. He thought a minute then told them, “I don’t have a single favorite Scripture. Mine is a series of Scriptures, but they tell the story of my life, I think. So this is how I see the Lord. This is how I see myself.”

Sara watched him carefully, sensing this was one of those rare moments when she would get to see what was inside one of her children’s hearts.

Sam cleared his throat again. “OK. Three things. A leper went to Jesus and begged him, ‘Lord, if thou will, thou can make me clean.’ A weeping father brought his suffering son and placed him before the Savior. ‘Heal him, Lord,’ he begged. ‘I will if youI want to be like youV7wpx; } believe,’ the Savior told him. ‘I believe, Lord,’ the father said, then he caught himself, realizing the weakness of his faith. ‘Lord, help my unbelief,’ he begged again. Last one, OK? Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a publican, the other one a Pharisee. The Pharisee stood before the others and said, ‘God, I thank thee that I am not like these other men, unjust, adulterers, sinners even as this publican.’ But the publican stood afar off and would not lift even so much as his eyes up to heaven, but beat upon his chest and cried, ‘Forgive me, God, for I am a sinner.’”

Sam paused for a moment. The room was silent. No crying birds. No footsteps in the busy hallway.

“That is who I am,” he concluded, his voice low as he looked at them one by one. “You know me. You know how I’ve lived. It was hard for me. I’ve always had to struggle to do the right thing. From the very beginning, I knew I wasn’t like the rest of you; I was a sinner, rebellious. I had too much of my old man inside of me, I guess.

“Can you see what I’m saying? These Scriptures I have talked about are me: Lord, You can make me clean. Yes, I believe. I want to believe. Please, can You help my unbelief? Forgive me, Lord, forgive me, please, for I’m a sinner.

“But that’s not the end of my favorite Scriptures. The best one, the one that gives me hope, the one that means more to me than any of the others is so clear. Romans chapter eight, verses thirty-eight and thirty-nine. It’s a keeper: “For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, [n]or height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

He stopped and looked down.

“At the end of the day, I know that’s true. I’m a sinner. We all are sinners. But God has the power to make us holy. He can make you holy. Even make me holy. And that’s the only thing that gives me hope.”

* * * * * * *

Luke stared at his brother, the Spirit settling like a peaceful blanket over his troubled soul. As he listened, the Spirit told him, “Everything you have been taught and believed is true. Jesus is the Christ. He is the Savior. That is the only thing that matters. Everything else will be all right.”

And from that moment, Luke never doubted. His faith was surer than even the growing devastation and evil all around him. He could feel Lucifer’s expanding power, but he realized the Savior’s light was still more powerful. Luke felt a reassurance that God knew them and cared for them and wouldn’t stay His hand.

The words of a prophet suddenly came to his ears. He didn’t know which prophet it was, he didn’t know when he’d heard the phrase or even that it was buried somewhere in his mind, but the Spirit brought the message in words he couldn’t miss. “My dear friends, you are a royal generation. You were preserved to come to earth in this time for a special purpose. Not just a few of you, but all of you. There are things for each of you to do that no one else can do as well as you.”

It was a turning point for Luke. And though the course of his life would turn out to be very different from how he ever thought it would, from that moment on he never doubted what his destiny would be.

I want to be like yousuwlyp* * * * * * *

Sitting back a little farther from the circle of the others, Azadeh listened to Sam’s words. As she listened, she felt something she’d rarely felt before, something inside her warm and beautiful. It was emotional and spiritual, and it came with overwhelming power. A fire glowed inside her and her mind felt peaceful—alive and pure.

The feeling brought overwhelming memories as her mind went racing back. She was a little girl going through her morning prayers. Her sixteenth birthday, the beautiful morning her father had given her the golden headband, knowing he’d given everything he owned to buy it for her. The night she was lost on the snowy mountain, the stranger appearing out of the storm and dark to keep her warm.

Yes, she’d felt this burning glow a few times before, and she would pay whatever price she had to in order to make this feeling a permanent part of her life.

* * * * * * *

Lucifer watched them, listening to their words, and then began to scream. “NO! NO! NO!” he cried in unbridled rage and fury. “There is no hope! There is no future. You have nothing! Are you so blind you cannot see!? I have taken everything you need to be happy! I’ve taken everything you need to live. You’re going to die, you brainless mortals, you’re going to suffer here and die! Are you so stupid that you can’t see that you’ve lost everything! How can you be happy! How can you have any hope at all! There is nothing left here for you but pain and loneliness. How dare you feel this way!? How dare you look upon my Enemy and believe that He will help you!? How dare you look to His Great Work and ignore the great work of my own hands!?

“I am the Second Son. You are my brothers. I am a fallen angel, but you have fallen with me! There’s only fury, there is no light. There is no hope. There is no answer. Now I command you to worship me! I should have been the savior! Worship the mighty works I’ve done! Worship the pain, dread and hopelessness! Worship the darkness I have created and settled upon this wretched world!”

He stopped raging and stared at Sam, then clenched his fists and crd go back two