A Home for the Redeemed Read online

  A HOME

  for the

  REDEEMED

  SUE BEHNKE

  Copyright © 2016 Sue Behnke.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  WestBow Press

  A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

  1663 Liberty Drive

  Bloomington, IN 47403

  www.westbowpress.com

  1 (866) 928-1240

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

  Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

  ISBN: 978-1-5127-4840-6 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-1-5127-4842-0 (hc)

  ISBN: 978-1-5127-4841-3 (e)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016910866

  WestBow Press rev. date: 07/12/2016

  Contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1 A Bizarre Encounter

  Chapter 2 A Broken Pastor

  Chapter 3 An Urchin at the Door

  Chapter 4 Looking at Jane

  Chapter 5 Looking at the Heavens

  Chapter 6 Sunday at Church

  Chapter 7 Divorced!

  Chapter 8 The Pastor’s Wife

  Chapter 9 A Strange Dream

  Chapter 10 The Sin that Entangles

  Chapter 11 A Vow

  Chapter 12 Jane’s Diary

  Chapter 13 A Marriage on Unsure Grounds

  Chapter 14 Another Unusual Sunday

  Chapter 15 A Divine Voyage

  Chapter 16 Maria’s Pain

  Chapter 17 A Bite of Poison

  Chapter 18 A Step Too Far

  Chapter 19 Repentance

  Chapter 20 A Healing Process

  Chapter 21 And Lust Explodes

  Chapter 22 And Lust Destroys

  Chapter 23 Obeying the Divine Call

  Chapter 24 The Stand

  Chapter 25 An Unusual Brotherhood

  Chapter 26 Storm on Paper

  Chapter 27 Carl Restored

  Chapter 28 Benjamin and the Angel

  Chapter 29 Rejection

  Chapter 30 Leaning on a Friend

  Chapter 31 Maria the Beautiful

  Chapter 32 A Naked Isaiah

  Chapter 33 Jane Takes a Stand

  Chapter 34 Maria’s Revelation

  Chapter 35 A New Day

  Chapter 36 Addressing Barb

  Chapter 37 A Nightmare

  Chapter 38 A Meeting with the Pastor

  Chapter 39 Dreams and Reality

  Chapter 40 A Man of Prayer

  Chapter 41 Benjamin Shares a Prophesy

  Chapter 42 A Leader of Leaders

  Chapter 43 A Human Pastor

  Chapter 44 Pastoring the Supernatural

  Chapter 45 Saving the House

  Chapter 46 Weighing a Prophesy

  Chapter 47 Understanding Jane

  Chapter 48 Confronting Lust

  Chapter 49 Here Comes the Media

  Chapter 50 In the News

  Chapter 51 A Prayer Meeting that Shakes the Heavens

  Chapter 52 Intercede for the Pastor!

  Chapter 53 Maturity for the Storm

  Chapter 54 An Advertisement

  Chapter 55 A Meeting of Elders

  Chapter 56 Preparing for the Storm

  Chapter 57 Facing Jamie the Elder

  Chapter 58 Facing Finn the Elder

  Chapter 59 Redeemed Hearts

  Chapter 60 A Fiery Trial

  Chapter 61 Getting Real

  Chapter 62 A Parting

  Chapter 63 A Kingdom Outlook

  Chapter 64 Becoming a Patriarch

  Chapter 65 Birthing a Ministry

  Chapter 66 The Urchin in the Tide

  Chapter 67 The Spiritual Positioning

  Chapter 68 Family Pain

  Chapter 69 Homosexuality and Homosexuals

  Chapter 70 A Nightmare at Home

  Chapter 71 Benjamin in the Valley of Decision

  Chapter 72 An Urchin Sinking

  Chapter 73 Heartbreak

  Chapter 74 Journaling Grief

  Chapter 75 Hugging an Urchin

  Chapter 76 Blaming God

  Chapter 77 Touching Heaven

  Chapter 78 Bob the Wise

  Chapter 79 Litany of Self-Pity

  Chapter 80 One Last Chance

  Chapter 81 Reaching the Community

  Chapter 82 A Phase-Two Marriage

  Chapter 83 Life as it Happens

  Chapter 84 Benjamin’s Call

  About the Author

  In loving

  memory of my grandmother, Virginie, who believed in me and prayed for me.

  To my sons, I am eternally grateful and proud of you.

  Preface

  I have spent long hours and shed so many tears imagining Mary Magdalene, standing in front of the empty tomb, looking for Jesus. Ideally, this would be a snapshot of the person I would so love to be.

  Every time I read the account in John 20, it takes my breath away.

  Mary seeing two angels was such a wonderful event; her turning her back to these angels in order to question a simple gardener bewilders me.

  Her pursuit of the Christ, the love of her life, took her beyond signs and wonders, beyond the grave, and beyond the supernatural. Angels were not enough. Words of knowledge were not enough. Even a prophecy of the return of the Messiah was not enough. She needed her Lord. She was desperate for his presence. Nothing less than him would do. He had to come back for her. Her love required an answer. Her desperate quest demanded his presence. He could not refuse her heart’s desire.

  This is the passion of my life—a pilgrim on this earth looking for my Rabboni.

  Chapter 1

  A Bizarre Encounter

  Benjamin Weiss was staring vacantly at the ceiling. He was not sure if he was having an out-of-body experience or seeing a vision. He was no longer in the small gray room. He could see a beautiful creek. He found himself looking toward the opposite end of the creek at a creature that looked like an angel. His gaze shifted, and he noticed people sitting by the water at his feet. No one seemed to notice Benjamin.

  He found himself staring at the angel with curiosity. The creature was across the body of water, so he could not discern if it was male or female. The angel just glowed.

  What took him aback the most was the flow of love that emanated from the creature. It made his person look so radiant. The angel did not look toward Benjamin. He was too busy giving away stuff to people all around him. Benjamin felt enraptured by the intensity of the moment. The people he saw seemed in awe of the being and were looking up lovingly and gratefully receiving gifts. Benjamin could not discern the nature of the gifts, but the love that was flowing back and forth was breathtaking.

  A thought started emerging in him. Maybe this is God.

  He did not speak out loud, but in that world he could hear his thoughts loud and clear.

  A voice behind him replied, “No, it’s an angel of grace.”

  The water and the angel faded, and he had a sense of returning to his chair. He readjusted slowly, staring at the bill he was about to pay.

 
; Maybe he was just going crazy.

  Chapter 2

  A Broken Pastor

  Carl was a tired pastor. He had spent a couple of decades praying and working ceaselessly to anchor the church he had started. He would like to be proud, but he just felt tired. He envisioned the flock he watched over and felt disillusioned. He would have to give another sermon on tithing and offering if they were to keep the sanctuary open. He felt bitterness well up in him.

  He looked at the hundred e-mails waiting for him to answer. People needed reassurance and love. Others wanted to complain, and still others needed guidance. There were, of course, those who needed baptism functions organized and weddings and funerals conducted.

  Carl sighed. They wanted it all for free. He expected the rolled eyes during the money sermon, the angry stares, and the occasional silly comments like, “You should be trusting God a bit more, Pastor. He will surely provide!” He bit his lip while trying to control his anger. He wanted to scream at their apathy. He felt used.

  Dark thoughts were creeping up. Remember Christmas when an elder had to almost beg the attendants to put a few extra coins in the plate so you could have a bonus? Just to have a few days off with your family? How about all the subtle and continuous nudging to get the roof of the church fixed?

  He shook his head in frustration. He was trying to think of a reason to push forward. He had to forgive and love them like he used to.

  He remembered his naiveté when he started here. All he wanted was to serve the community and get them to know God loved them. He was so passionate then with the zeal of youth.

  He had no idea what was waiting for him. That was all. He had made so many assumptions—another illusion that was busting, another dream buried! Tears started to well up.

  He stood up to shake the gloominess taking over his heart. He tried to pray, but not a sound came from his battered soul. He stepped into the kitchen for a coffee.

  Chapter 3

  An Urchin at the Door

  The front door of the church building burst open. The secretary looked up with some trepidation, and in charged Brendan. She half-sighed with relief. She was sure he did not have an appointment, but Brendan very rarely kept to any convention or rule.

  She smiled and remembered last year right after he had joined their congregation. An unknown street preacher had gotten a thirst for salvation in him, and he just busted into their lives. Brendan had been a street urchin spending his meager income on drugs and tattoos.

  In an effort to clean up his act, Brendan got a small job, reconciled with an ex-girlfriend, and married her. He was trying to be a good dad to the child he had fathered in a cloud of confusion and drugs. He was sincere though, and everyone in the church looked at him with teary eyes and gentle patience.

  Still Brendan was rougher than diamond and managed to get upset often. What was he incensed about before? Oh yeah, his tattoos. He had pointed a threatening finger at the pastor, demanding to know why Christians had a problem with his tattoos. Geena had nearly ducked under the desk.

  Carl had stayed very kind and held on to his smile (with some obvious effort), and then he clarified the misunderstanding of a scripture.

  Geena had never heard anyone expound on the Bible’s views on tattoos before, so she listened intently. The pastor was teaching that the verse that forbids tattooing yourself and cutting your skin for the dead actually was not targeting today’s tattoos (which did not exist in those days) but the habits of heathens to flog and cut their skin in despair while mourning their dead. The spirit behind the scripture was that there was no need to fear death.

  Brendan muttered a few expletives about ignorance and stormed out of the office as angry as he had come in.

  Geena shook the memory from her mind and looked at Brendan with a tentative smile. He waved a dismissive hand toward her and headed straight to the pastor’s door. She did not dare intervene. She did not have a stomach for violence. Nor was she paid to be a bodyguard. She found his brash behavior fascinating despite her stern upbringing … or maybe because of it. She had to admit to herself that she liked him. As he barged into the pastor’s office, she was glad he did not close the door. His views and comments were always so colorful!

  “Hey, Brother Carl. Wassup?”

  Carl looked up from behind his desk. “How are you, Brendan? It is good to see you.”

  Brendan did not waste much time on pleasantries. “Apparently, God wants me to beat up my child now. I won’t do it, you hear? I won’t whip my baby!”

  He went on in a rant until a string of curses started pouring out. He finally checked himself and quieted down.

  “Brendan, why do you believe you need to hit your child?”

  “She’s been misbehaving and screaming, Pastor, and I just won’t hurt her! Don’t bother counseling me about the rod thing. I won’t hurt her.”

  Carl was getting a bit frustrated. “I didn’t ask you to hit her, bro. Just trying to understand the situa—”

  Brendan interrupted the pastor. The rant started again about the rod.

  Geena sneaked a look into the office. She could always pretend that she wanted to offer a beverage. She chuckled quietly at the look on Carl’s face. She knew he was only half-listening, waiting to be heard. She ducked back when she saw the pastor stand up. He probably decided he needed to stop the flow of anger. “Brendan, I heard you, and I understand the issue. Since you took the trouble of coming to me, would you please listen to me?”

  Brendan was hesitating, his voice full of suspicion. His body language was downright hostile.

  “Brother, I have been a pastor for a long time. I believe there is another issue here, a trauma that needs to get unearthed, a wound that needs healing. Brendan, God does not want you to whip your child.”

  “I thought pastors were supposed to have read the Bible. What are you pushing, man? Can’t you people speak the same language? I’m confused.”

  “You’re in the Old Testament again, bro. Check out the New Testament. It says, ‘Don’t provoke your children to anger.’”

  “Huh? I spoke to Brother Murphy. He said I needed to hit her with a rod, man. I can’t do that to my baby, man. It’s not cool!”

  “Brendan, the Old Testament was written for those who did not have the Holy Spirit. When you know the Lord and his Holy Spirit is in you, able to convict you of sin and cleanse you, he can guide you. You need to pray for your child and discipline her in love, dude. A two-year-old needs her daddy to make her feel like a princess.”

  “How do I know who to listen to? This is maybe your interpretation! I’m tired of all these opinions. Nothing makes sense!”

  “Brendan, whenever you’re in doubt, remember to look at the life of Jesus. It’s why he came—to be an example for our lives. He was always kind to children. His parable of the prodigal son should be the ultimate example of how a father loves and forgives a child. Does that answer your question?”

  “What about Murphy?”

  “I’ll speak to him. Maybe I should give a teaching to the whole assembly on the matter.”

  “Pphh, I’d say you should. I was ready to leave the church, man.”

  He went on and on about his little treasure until the pastor interrupted again.

  “Brendan, were you whipped as a child?”

  The change in the man’s body language was immediate. His head jerked, and his leg started shaking.

  “Man, my whole childhood was a long struggle for survival. My old man used to come home drunk every Friday night and beat the daylight out of us. I would never do that to my baby, dude. I will not become like him.”

  Carl walked slowly and sat in the chair opposite Brendan.

  “Brendan,” Carl said very softly, “would you indulge me, please? I would like to go through an exercise. I would like you to close your eyes for a moment and remember when your father would be standing in front of you. Go back to when you were five or six in your mind and face him.”

  Geena felt so excited as she
peeped in discreetly. The pastor forgot to close the door as he usually did in these situations. She looked at Brendan’s back intently, trying to guess what the pastor saw that prompted this. She could see the young man’s hands gripping the chair. There was almost a smell of terror in the air.

  “Pastor,” Brendan spoke slowly, “I can see myself as a little lad, looking at a drunken monster coming through the door, raging mad.”

  The calm voice of the pastor came through, gently helping him cope with the nightmare. “Brendan, look at your dad now, and let the boy you were ask him to quit shouting and screaming.”

  Brendan started to obey. He muttered a few words at the memory that gripped him. Suddenly, a surge of rage seemed to take him over, and he started screaming and swearing, pouring out his disappointment at the man he was supposed to honor and respect. He sobbed, screaming, “I hate you. I hate you. I will never be like you!” until he was hoarse.