Chapter Thirty-two
It only took Pastor Peters a second to sit behind his desk. Charlene was glad. She held her mouth in an O shape, because, Oh, baby, was she about to tell it like it “T-I-Is.” Charlene was ready to lay it on heavy.
Her own world had already crumbled. The jurisdictional evangelist, over the entire evangelist’s unit under their church as a whole, had heard one too many stories about what Charlene actually did on her mission trips. Not only that, but the leader had passed all the information to their bishop. Needless to say, Charlene was demoted in her leadership role. It had been apparent that the laying on of hands was just the tip of the iceberg.
The word had gotten out. Obviously Charlene took opportunities in becoming the best of friends with her ministry team members: the women. But it was more than a friendship she had wanted from them.
“Ms. Charlene, it’s been a great while since I’ve seen you last.” Pastor Peters addressed her, not as evangelist, nor sister, but with her government name. “And so you wanted to see me. Quite eagerly I see. You’ve rescheduled back to back for some weeks.” He looked through his schedule book.
All Charlene knew was she wasn’t about to go down alone. Not everyone had to be talked into anything. Some went willingly. And those names, Charlene were dropping like hot potatoes.
Hearing his greeting, Charlene tilted her head, not believing the nerve of Pastor Peters disrespecting her.
“I apologize for those previous cancellations. My mother had an accident and then things coming up with the ministry. You know how it is. But how can I help you?”
His demeanor made her mad and helped her keep in her sympathy for his mother instead of showing remorse for the old bat. It may not have been right, but at this point, Charlene couldn’t care less.
“Yes, I wanted to speak with you ... personally.” She eyed his secretary sitting beside her. “Privately.”
Charlene’s track record of coming up with “good ideas” for the church had come to a halt. It wasn’t until she had put in another “God told me to” idea to their bishop about the need to go minister to the people that others had come to the defense of the ministry itself.
Apparently women had started speaking out against her. They had shared with one another how Charlene had approached them, sexually. Once they started exchanging stories about the fifty-something woman, their Holy Ghost wouldn’t allow it to go on.
“It’s fine.” Pastor Peters nodded for his secretary to remove herself from his office. He knew without a doubt the meeting wouldn’t take long. And from what he’d learned, even if Charlene were to come with accusations, he wasn’t ready to buy in to it.
“I have an idea why you are here. I have the memo.” He held up a faxed letter. Their bishop had interoffice mailed a letter stating her dismissal. “So I believe I’m ahead of you,” he went on.
“No problem.” Charlene shifted in her seat. “But why I’m here ...” She was ready to share. They may not have been lies about her sexuality, her preference of being with women, but Charlene didn’t think it had anything to do with her right to spread God’s Word. She had led hundreds if not thousands to Christ. She had given God’s commandments over His people.
People had been healed and delivered from spirits. No one could tell her God’s power didn’t live in her. She knew for herself that it did.
“I just want you to know that Kenya isn’t too far behind me. If the church is cleaning house, then I believe you should know that—”
Pastor Peters leaned in toward Charlene. “Not here. You won’t be able to take anyone from this church, under this evangelist team, down with you.” He peered into her eyes, wanting to make sure she understood just where he was coming from without saying names.
“Your doings have been going on since we were kids, Charlene. So they finally caught up with you. Good riddance.” He shrugged and he relaxed in his chair. “God don’t play. But you aren’t issuing no names out up in here.” He pointed downward on his desk. “Charlene, anything that anyone has done in your presence no doubt was something brought on by you. So, if this wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, then I’m all ears. But if you think I’m gonna listen to you rant, you have another think coming.”
“We are all adults,” she countered. “Every single person who goes out to missions, we are adults. I can’t make anybody do anything they don’t want to do.” She sat up. “And furthermore, who are you and Bishop and whoever else to tell me I don’t have power?”
“But see, that’s where you are wrong, Charlene. I’ve heard you bring forth the Word. I’ve seen folk get saved and filled right at the altar under your ministry. But let’s just put a name to this. If you are living a woman-to-woman relationship or acts, God is not pleased with it. I’m not saying it, Charlene. The Word is ...” He lifted his Bible that sat on his desk. “God can use whomever he chooses to bring forth His Word. You remember the donkey, don’t you?” He hoped he’d pull more out of the symbolism than just the donkey being the donkey.
“It’s the sin that God hates. It’s not you. It’s not you the ministry is coming down on, it’s the sin. From cover to cover we have to tell it like it is. We have to believe it for ourselves before we can spread it.
“God loves you; your sin is no greater than my own. I was a whoremonger. I was a young minister, my dad died and I took over the church, and I tried to sleep with every new face that came through the church’s doors.” Pastor Peters didn’t mind sharing since he had preached about it so many times.
Charlene sat, her wall breaking down by the second. Hearing her own story being repeated through his own, Charlene was cornered with her sins.
“Did I preach the Word and what it said against fornication? Of course I did, but God got tired of me and gave me a way out. He allowed me to be caught. Brought me to my knees.” Pastor Peters dropped his head as he recounted over thirty years ago. “I lost my position, my credentials. I lost the trust and support of God’s people. I was crumbled. But I did it to myself.” He pointed to his chest.
Tears were evident in Charlene’s eyes. The heavy load of being who she was and doing what she did was too much. All of her defense mechanisms she had planned to throw at Pastor Peters were being torn down.
Charlene didn’t want to give in, but while the pastor spoke, she was able to focus on her sin. Pastor Peters handed her a Kleenex as he continued.
“My sin was no different than yours. It took for me to see what I was doing. What I was really doing. How I had sinned against God and His people. God didn’t make his women to be used and abused. Romans says it best what He meant for his people. It’s us, flesh, who often get it wrong.
“After it was all said and done, God didn’t let me die in my sin. God forgave me. And eventually, so did His people.” He held up his hands to symbolize being able to pastor once again.
“I ... It feels like this ... this is who I’m supposed to be,” Charlene muttered. “How can I stop something that seems as though I was born to be?”
He shared, “By prayer, fasting, and letting yourself truly have a talk with Jesus. Put down your title and make your true request made known to the Father. People often say they want to be real with themselves. But how often are we real with our Father? Do you believe all of God’s Word?”
“What do you mean? Of course,” she said through tears.
“Do you believe Jesus died on the cross for your sins?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to be cleansed of your sins?” Pastor Peters reached out his hands for Charlene. “Do you want to stop the lifestyle you’re living? Are you tired of it? Do you believe God made man for woman and woman for man?”
Her head nod preceding her words, Charlene knew she wasn’t outright happy with herself. She had fought the battle for years, by herself, trying to figure out why she couldn’t allow herself to be the woman who God had ordained her to be. She saw now it was because it was true: even those in authority need to confess and get and receive prayer for their own struggles. Charlene had been trying to fight the enemy herself. She knew now she couldn’t do it on her own.
“I do,” she cried out. “I do believe God’s Word. I do believe God made no mistake in me. I believe that God can cleanse me. I know He can. I know!” Charlene released her hands from the pastor as her hands went in the air to worship the Lord.
“Please forgive me, Father. I know your son Jesus died on the cross for my sins. Please forgive me ... Help me, Lord. Help me.” She brought her hands to her chest and repeatedly hit her heart. “Help me! Renew me, Jesus. Thank you, Lord. Thank you. Renew my mind. Purify me all over again, Lord.”
“Lord do it for her, Jesus.” Pastor Peters had come from around his desk and laid hands on Charlene’s head.
“Lord, you knew about this divine appointment on this day, this hour. Lord, you are the knower of all things. You knew this day was coming, dear God. Only you knew. Our dear sister Charlene is here, in need of you to come into her heart once more, God. She is here, Lord Jesus, to pour out her heart and soul to you.
“We rebuke the enemy, we rebuke those desires. We cast them to the pits of hell to never be seen or heard of again. We believe in your Word. We call all temptation, all lusts, and all self-led spirits under subjection to your Word and cast them out. Purge, Lord.” Pastor Peters wasn’t letting up on the prayers that would restore and bless Charlene’s soul.