Chronicles of Flames

Ten 🔥

Pastor Mike Layson, the presiding shepherd of Burning Light Ministries, one of the few surviving pentecostal churches in Costa Hera, battled with unusual insomnia that night. All the techniques he tried using, all in a bid to fall asleep, was futile—listening to music, a hot-turned-cold shower, reading a boring biography, counting numbers backward, name it...

More frustrating was the fact that his wife, Mrs Ruth Layson, Who he affectionately refers to as Rutie, was sleeping like a koala on hibernation, snoring softly and rhythmically with abandon, making him all the more antsy.
Given the fact that his schedule during the day had been quite clogged, draining even—from a counseling-turned-deliverance session, to preparing a bible study teaching, to calling some members who haven't been consistent in attendance—it was an alarming surprise to him that he could not fall asleep.

As midnight neared, he gave up the tussle and yielded to the inner prodding of the Holy Spirit in him to pray.
Seriously, he wasn't really in the mood, but he knew he had to. It was the only thing that made sense at the moment. Thirty-something years of being in the ministry and forty years of being a believer had taught him that much.

After he prayed in tongues on his knees in his study for some time, he felt the oddest urge to head straight to the church building.
A glance at his phone told him that it was just a few minutes to 2am.

"Lord, what am I to do in church? Is it prayer? I can do that much here."

Silence.

Sigh...
He knew he just had to go ahead and obey, even if it seemed illogical and quite absurd. Yes, God had told him to do some pretty crazy things in the past. An initial attempt at bargaining always yielded no compromise on God's part, and obeying turned out to be actual lifesaving in the end. He could not doubt God now.

He opened the wardrobe, grabbed a cozier jacket, a pair of gloves and socks. The weather was biting cold out there at night. Even without snow, sometimes the night temperature could drop way down to -10 degrees.
With a thud, he shut the wooden wardrobe. It reverberated through the walls, rattling the windows, causing his wife to wake up. She took in his movements with sleepy eyes as she sat up in bed.

"Where are you going to, Honey?" she asked as she stifled a yawn.

"Sorry to disturb you, Rutie darling," he said as he slipped on his jacket and sat on the edge of the bed to wear his socks. "I couldn't sleep all night, and now God has instructed me to go to the church auditorium right away. I have no idea why, but you know I have to go."

"I understand that dear," she replied softly. Then with a sudden burst of energy, she quipped, "How about I go with you?"

"What? No, no, no... You need to rest. I know you had such a long day at the store and you have to be up early tomorrow. And besides, this was God's instruction to me not you."

She was already out of the bed and rummaging through her closet for something way thicker than the silk nightdress she had on to wear.

"I'm coming with you whether you like it or not. Two shall become one flesh, so says His holy word. Wherever the Lord has asked you to go, I'll go too. I'm Ruth remember," she said and shot him a grin.
He chuckled, amazed by how blessed he was to be the Boaz of this beauty.
He stood and went over to help her choose a dress. As he helped her zip up her maxi gown, he didn't resist the urge he felt to kiss her on the back of her neck. Her giggle was music to his ears. He would love her as Christ loved the church till his last breath and hopefully, God would answer their prayers and bless them with a child soon.

"Alright then. Let's go," he said as he took her hand in his.

They left the house in few minutes. Thankfully, this time their trusty old wagon, a Toyota that had been gifted to them by one of the parishioners, didn't need a spanking on its engine before it complied and trudged towards the church situated just four streets away on an escarpment at the suburbs of Ivory Town.