“He didn’t help me that night. He left me to die. Satan was there. He spared me and now he claims my soul as payment.”
“You’re wrong.” Keren laid her hand over his scarred hand and didn’t try to conceal the grief she felt for Roger’s suffering. “Life and death isn’t a deal Satan can make. God alone can give life and death. God saved you that night. But Satan can stand by and whisper lies in your ear. He’s the prince of lies.”
“So I gave up my soul for nothing?” Roger’s head began to sag as if it weighed too much to hold it up.
Keren let his sleeve fall back over the brutal scars and firmly raised his chin. “You didn’t give up your soul. The soul God gave you is alive in you, longing desperately to be returned to its proper place in God’s kingdom.”
“I made my choice.” He said it as if it were a matter of honor to him that he keep his bargain. “There’s no way out for me. I’ll live out my life on these streets. Then I’ll die. Life and death are both hell, it makes no difference.”
Keren forced him with sheer willpower to hold her gaze. “It doesn’t have to be that way. We can cast out the demon. God can restore joy and peace to your life.”
“Peace?” the man said with aching sadness. “I haven’t known a moment’s peace in twenty years.”
“You could rest in the Lord. Think of finally being at rest with your Savior. Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m tired,” he whispered. “I’ve been so tired for so long.”
“Pray with me.”
She began praying, softly enough no one around them could hear, but loudly enough to include Roger. She felt the war between good and evil being waged. She prayed, and then she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She looked up at Paul. His other hand was on Roger’s back. Roger’s eyes popped open.
“Let me add my prayers to yours,” Paul said.
Roger nodded confidently, as if Paul’s presence made him stronger. Suddenly Roger began to pray along with her and Paul. Tears sprang to Keren’s eyes. Her voice broke, but she continued to pray. She felt Paul’s hand settle on her back, and his words, different than hers, different than Roger’s, blended with theirs and became a harmony of pleas to God for freedom for one man.
Keren could feel the darkness begin to lose its battle. A high-pitched shriek, one she knew from experience only she could hear, built until it cut her eardrums. The demon battled until Roger’s body began to tremble. Roger’s hands shook and Keren grabbed them and held them tight.
With a quick, loud crack—again audible only to her—and one last hideous scream of fury, the demon was gone. Keren opened her eyes and looked into the face of a changed man. Wonder filled Roger right before her eyes.
“Pastor P is going to preach a sermon today, Roger.” She kept his hands gripped firmly in hers. “You’re going to hear it with new ears. You need to replace the despair that’s inside you with love. You need to nurture the peace you’ve been given.”
“How did you do this?” Roger asked in awe.
“Not me,” Keren said. “Don’t ever think it was me. God revealed your sorrow to me and used me to pray with you. God removed that demon from you. All you’ve ever needed to do was turn to Him and simply ask for freedom.”
“That’s all I needed to do? But why did He wait so long? Why did He let me waste all these years?”
“He didn’t wait.” Keren shook her head. “I can promise you He’s tried many times before. He’s sent people before, but you weren’t ready to listen until now.”
“How can you know things about me like that?”
“I don’t know things about you. But I know God. I know He’s always trying to bring His children home.”
Roger’s eyes seemed to look back over the years, and Keren hoped he was remembering times when God had tried to bring him back.
“You’re right.” He nodded. “I know you are.”
Keren cradled Roger’s grimy hands with their claw-like nails, caked with dirt. “God loves you, Roger. He has never left you, not during all these years you’ve lived such a hopeless life. He has never quit calling to you. God asks us only to believe in Him, to believe in Jesus.”
“I do believe. How could I live through what just happened and not believe.” His hands turned in her grip and clasped Keren’s. “I’ve done so much evil in my life. I abandoned my wife and children. I’ve wasted my life hating the whole world.”
Roger looked sideways at Paul. “Can you help me….” He looked down at himself. “I want to be clean and decent. I have two children. I need to find them.”
“You know I’ll help you, Roger. I’ve been praying you’d let me help you for a long time.”
“Why would you pray for me, Pastor? There’s so much more hope with a lot of these men. Why would you pick me?”
“I didn’t pick you over them, Roger. I pray for all of you. Every one of you, every day, by name.”
Roger’s eyes filled with tears.
Paul’s hand on Roger’s back shifted. Keren knew it was an offer of comfort.
“Are all of these men like me?” Roger asked Keren. “Is a demon living in all of them?”
“I can’t answer that. God told me there was a demon in you. He may only tell me of those who are ready to listen.”
“So we can’t know for sure.” He looked around the dingy room with its dozens of grizzle-faced, raggedly dressed men and the handful of equally suffering women. “I wonder—” He looked at Paul. “Would you accept my help? If God can find me here, then He can find these other men.”
“I think God is speaking to your heart right now.” Keren patted his hand. “He’s telling you of a way to grow in your faith by helping others.”
“I would welcome your help,” Paul said. “You could speak to the homeless with so much wisdom because you’ve experienced it. You know the struggle.”
Keren, Paul, and Roger talked quietly until Paul stepped to the front of the room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Paul talked about Juanita and led them in a prayer for LaToya. The crowd seemed to nearly vibrate with the attention they paid him once the women were mentioned. Paul knew God was using this nightmare for good. After he finished his prayer, he preached a simple sermon of salvation. When he was finished, his eyes rested on Keren. She sat next to Roger, still holding his hand.
Paul felt such profound respect for her. She never shrank from Roger because of his smell or the wild look that always lurked in his eyes. She had shown the kind of compassion and courage that Jesus Christ had shown in touching the leper and eating with the tax collector.
Though Paul had reached out to Roger many times, the truth was, Paul had never held much hope. Roger seemed further gone than even the average transient.
Keren had seen the demon in him.
Even more, she’d seen a way to deliver him, and she’d seen Roger’s longing for deliverance. Now she sat at Roger’s side, and everyone who’d come in for breakfast stayed for a change, to listen to Paul’s sermon.
Paul didn’t know what Keren made him feel. He only knew she made him feel something for the first time in a long time. He didn’t like getting entangled with the police. He remembered last night when those bushes rustled. He’d reached for his gun. It had been a reflex. Thinking about it now sickened him.
He couldn’t deal with the things she awakened—the cop things, the man things—so he left it up to God and walked out among his congregation. He spent time talking with each of them. He saw Roger, now standing clear eyed, talking rationally, ministering to those who gave any indication of being interested.
Roger came up to him. “Can I stay here and help you? I’ll cook or clean or whatever you need.”