Chapter 8 pt 2

When John pulled up, Shanelle was unprepared for what awaited her.

Approaching a large gated entrance, John scanned a badge so they'd open. Security sat in kiosks waving them on. Neat rows of flower beds and trimmed bushes decorated the landscape.

Once inside, Shanelle couldn't help but gape. Beyond the tall stone walls that shimmered like golden sand in the sunlight, there were areas designated for farming and livestock. To the right, rows of aligned plants were visible, and further ahead were makeshift pens for poultry and pigs. On the left, there were greenhouses, some with tarp roofs and others without.

Everything appeared vibrant and lush. People of all ages and races, including the youth, moved past each other, either arriving or departing, collaborating, or carrying loads. The atmosphere was filled with determination and purpose. What was this unspoken energy she sensed and observed in action?

Shanelle was certain she'd entered a whole new world!

They approached a cobbled roundabout, taking the third right turn. They passed a large, brick school building that had a playground, a tennis court, a dirt track and a baseball field. Nothing seemed like luxury... Yet, everything felt like home. The track was clearly makeshift, and hand dug, but there were athletes running it as if it were crafted from gold nonetheless.

They turned left after a few moments, passing a large square building with the sign "Infirmary" at its doors. A medical center?

As they drove on, the presence of houses and apartment complexes stunned Shanelle. They were well kept with regular people sitting on porches, occasional toddlers playing here and there. There were so many houses, shed begun to lose count.

Soon the properties widened in distance, and construction sites took over. More homes were being built. At the very end of the winding road was what seemed to be a large stadium, or multipurpose building. In big steel letters read

"H. I. E. T Ministries" in a stone inscription. Cars lined the large parking lot. Pulling into a vacant space, John turned the car off.

"Here we are. Tonight is a special evening, Shanelle. Two of our campers will share personal testimonies, and one of our youth pastors will deliver a message. One of those campers is Michael. Your friend here is actually being promoted to a staff position as one of our official team leads. It's a hiring opportunity, and he's definitely earned it," John explained as he got out of the jeep. Shanelle and Michael followed him, stepping out and closing the doors as he locked them.

Glancing shyly at Michael, Shanelle noticed how he didn't acknowledge what John said. Was this place really where he'd been "hiding" this whole time?

Something stirred inside her chest. Longing? Envy...?

They made their way through the maze of cars to the entrance of the facility. It's smelled of street food, the air hummed with excitement, and music could be heard in the distance. Several others were making their way to the doors as well. All of them greeted John and Michael, others nodding to Shanelle in acknowledgement.

Unsure of what to expect, Shanelle pressed on, anxious yet longing.

To her surprise, Shanelle entered what looked like a mini courtyard. It looked similar to a mall food court: there were food stops and even a little clothing store around its perimeter. Sounds of chatter and pots sizzling filled the area.

A young girl, approximately Shanelle's age, came towards them, accompanied by two older boys and a girl following behind, jotting notes on a clipboard. The first girl's face was adorned with a purple butterfly design, and her hair was styled in a low ponytail tied with a green ribbon. Her skin was dark, even darker it seemed, than charcoal. She smiled at Shanelle, her eyes widening as she admired her braids.

"Girl, I love your hair." She said, touching them lightly.

Shocked that anyone would give her a compliment, Shanelle stammered a thanks.

"John, my man!" One of the older boys clasped John's hand to shake it. "Ready for your big night?" The boy turned and asked, pointedly to Michael.

Michael's face reddened as he shifted nervously.

"Nah man, tonight's all about Jesus. That's what I'm ready for."

His calm response pierced Shanelle for reasons she couldnt articulate.

Motioning to Shanelle, Michael introduced her to his peers. The two older boys were Sean and Pali. The girl who complimented Shanelle was Layla. The girl who continued to scribble over the clipboard was apparently Mary.

Upon hearing her name, Mary lifted her head sharply. "Oh! Shanelle, are you a new volunteer? New camper?" She asked, clearly aware of the present conversation.

"Soon to be," John answered for her. "Mary, could you grab Shanelle an application please?"

Pulling one out, she handed it to her, a long with a pen.

"What about those other spots you were trying to fill?"

"Yes ma'am! Shanelle's one, her... Two? I think two sisters are the other two, there's another boy we on boarded yesterday named Timothy, and the last one we got today is Jason. Everything worked out, thanks Mary. C'mon y'all, service is starting. Get with pastor Joyce about the dinner if you haven't already registered.. go on!" John said, urging with a gesture.

Layla grabbed Shanelle's arm, pulling her ahead. "C'mon Shanelle! You can sit with me while Michael gets up."

Separating from the girls, Michael glanced back at Shanelle, frowning with hesitation.

Layla rolled her eyes. "Don't worry! She'll be fine. Go!"

And with that, Michael searched Shanelle's face, came back to lightly squeeze her shoulder as if to say, 'I'll be back, I promise...' and left with John.

"Going to the bathroom!" Mary called as she hurried in an opposite direction.

Feeling oddly alone, Shanelle swallowed.

Smiling kindly, Layla guided her along the courtyard until they got to what looked like the entrance of the multipurpose room.

Upbeat music flowed through the doors as they entered. The large stadium was almost full, with hands raised throughout the venue. Layla had reserved a seat next to her for Shanelle in the front row of the middle section.

A praise and worship team lead as the musicians played with their guitar, drums and keyboard. The atmosphere was electric, surreal and filled with movement. In the isle next to Shanelle, a man waved a large, graceful flag that depicted a lion in a haze of orange, gold, red and purple. In the very front, some people danced. Others knelt, faces buried in prayer pillows.

Something within Shanelle bubbled, a weight it felt, that wanted to be released... She wanted to cry, sing and laugh all at the same time.

Layla appeared to have forgotten Shanelle's existence as she raised her hands, singing with closed eyes. Her voice cracked, and everything about her tone, except for the words, seemed out of place... Yet she clearly didn't mind.

Smiling, Shanelle felt her heart soar like a caged bird fluttering its wings. She couldn't find anyone nodding off in their chairs... The children weren't playing with fans under the seat. The men stood and clapped unashamed, the woman danced, the boys leapt... These people were hungry... Just like Shanelle. Soul filled with desperation; she lifted her hands. Would God meet her again? Could she truly encounter Him in this place? Closing her eyes, she searched without seeing, felt without moving, longed without speaking. "If you're real... Speak to me..." She cried out within her heart.

---

When praise and worshiped slowed, and the songs ended, John entered the stage.

"Today's afternoon service is very special. With the progress we've made since the start of summer: souls saved, lives rescued, hearts healed... God is doing so much. " John's voice grew tender, choked with emotion. "So much... We can go on and on about what's been happening..." John paused, seemingly overwhelmed.

The people began clapping in his silence, hooting and yelling out praises to God. Nodding, he took off his hat and wiped his eyes, clearing his throat to continue.

"Folks, I'm tryin'.... I'm tryna move on but the Holy Spirit has me right here..." John began to cry. The atmosphere grew thick with a presence that Shanelle could tangibly feel. The hairs on her arm stood.

Motioning to a lady that stood on the side of the platform, John gave her the mic. She clasped it in expectant hands and moved to the center of the stage. She was a white lady with blonde highlights, wore a pale lavender A-line dress and clear heels. Her eyes were closed with a hand raised as she prayed in tongues.

Uncertain, Shanelle glanced at Layla in question. Layla, again, was oblivious, seemingly in her own world as she stared intently with her own hand raised. What was going on?

Suddenly, the woman on the stage began to cry. It was a sound that shook Shanelle, sobering her of every thought distracting her from the moment. She was locked in.

"The Holy Spirit says to His church, you.... You are My beloved, you are My bride, you are My Shulamite. Give Me your burdens so I can carry them, give Me your pain, so I can take it away, share with Me...! Share with Me you wounds so I can mend them!" She cried aloud.

Then, searching the faces of the people, Shanelle seemed to lock eyes with the woman. Something trembled inside her. Was she staring at her?

"Young girl, could you come here? Lovely with the black shirt?"

Looking around, Shanelle grew afraid. Realizing she pointed at Shanelle, Layla clasped her hand tightly and moved with her to the front. Feeling countless eyes, her body shook uncontrollably as she went.

What did they plan to do to her? As Shanelle mounted the steps, she looked around anxiously while the crowd began to applaud. Layla remained by her side, holding on tightly.

Spotting Michael's face amongst a group that entered the stage as well, Shanelle felt a little more at ease.

The woman motioned for Shanelle to come to her. She did. Allowing herself to look into the woman's eyes, it felt almost as if the windows to her soul were swinging wide open.

Tears filled the woman's eyes. They were etched in tender concern and love. Michael came closer, standing next to Shanelle as support, Layla persistently on the left.

Lowering the mic, the woman handed it off to an altar worker, about to say something she didn't want voiced to the public.

"Can I hug you?" The woman asked.

Unsure of how to respond, Shanelle nodded and the woman wrapping her arms around her.

Feeling as though a bucket had been tipped over on the inside, Shanelle broke. Cries surfacing from a deep place, she shook violently, unable to catch her breath, pouring out what she didn't know was on the inside.

Layla cried with her, placing a hand on her back.

"I love you, says the Lord." The lady spoke to Shanelle. "The Lord says I love you... I love you! And I never left you."

Shanelle cried out with a gut wrenching sob.

"Darlin' that pain, that pain is tryna' eat you alive... But God said He won't let it. Give to to Him, and He'll work it for your good... Even the things you never told anyone..." The woman shuddered, holding Shanelle tightly.

"Baby, I see a man... A terrible man who's who's torn your soul! Darlin', give it to God!"

Shanelle fell to her knees then, suddenly coughing and contorting in a manifestation. Michael bent next to her, praying in tongues. Kneeling down, the woman continued to pray.

"There's been a curse released over your family of trauma and abuse, starting even from your great grandmama baby. The Lord says you were born with a sword in your hand, and you will live and not die. I decree and declare liberty from those curses now! By the authority of the name of Jesus... Every demonic altar... Every covenant... Every cycle of trauma! Be broken in the name of Jesus." The woman placed a light hand on Shanelle's back as she continued to cough and gag.

"Every foul spirit... Up and out. " The woman motioned to an altar worker, and immediately a trash can was brought.

Shanelle leaned over it and coughed up whatever fluids came. The crowd prayed together in a hum of tongues.

Allowing her to wipe her mouth with a tissue, Shanelle was guided back to her feet.

"Darlin' I'm gonna tell you what I heard, but first I want to ask you... Are you ready to give your heart to Jesus?" The woman asked.

Mind clearing, a tearful Shanelle nodded, utterly undone. The woman grabbed the mic again.

"We have a sister who's decided to give her life to Jesus, church! Hallelujah!"

The people errupted in praise shouting with a joyful noise.

"Lift your hands darling... Declare this prayer before heaven. Speak to Jesus. Say Lord..."

"Lord..."

"Forgive me."

"Forgive...me." Shanelle's heart broke.

"I can't do this on my own."

"I can't do this on my own."

"I believe that that You're Lord, and You've risen from the dead, having died for all of my sins."

Shanelle repeated.

"Wash me in Your blood... Deliver me! Fill me with the living waters of Your Holy Spirit. In Jesus' name. Amen."

She repeated. Upon finishing her statement, it felt as though something flooded her and filled her with warmth. It were almost as if her heart had been still up until this point, and a defibrillator had jilted it back to life.

Joy overwhelming her, Shanelle raised her hands a shouted praises to God.

The woman laughed gaily, excited and charged.

"Alrighty Hun. I don't know what this means but now that we know you belong to Jesus, Jesus wanted me to let you know that He says "Your Mama is mine. She belongs to me." '

Feeling as if the wind were knocked out of her, Shanelle stared in amazement. Her mama? She stared at Michael in disbelief, unsure of how to respond. The words shook her to her core. What did that mean? She was safe? Still in the hospital?

"After service, get her into a a small group so she can start foundation classes," the woman said. She hugged Shanelle once more. "Welcome home."

---

Shanelle was lead back to her seat and the service continued. When Michael was introduced and given a certificate, he was handed the mic to tell a testimony.

"What's up y'all... Most of you know already, but... Last year I was shot. I bled out and died for 15 minutes."

Shanelle's chest tightened as she listened to his words, being brought back to the scene in her mind. He died...??

"The paramedics came, did CPR, used the shocky things, and I came back.. breathin' again. But what most of y'all don't know, is that when I died, God showed me eternity. He showed me heaven... He showed me hell... And He showed me what He wanted to give me as a part of my purpose, my job, my ministry... A family. He showed me these things and asked me one question... 'Do you trust me?' of course I said yeah. But then He responded with 'Love with My love. Love... With My love... Love...' What I'm saying is... Jesus said if we get the first two commandments down, we basically straight. Love Him, and love people. What is it to love God? Honor Him. Fear Him. Not fear in a bad way... But fear as in I'll handle you like the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, and not just 'the man upstairs '... It means loving what He loves. And hating what He hates. He hates evil, hates sin, hates wickedness. But He loves... Us. People."

Michael breathed deeply. "I've had to forgive the same people over, and over, and over again. Even now I'm still struggling with it."

Shanelle knew he must've been talking about her. Didn't he say he forgave her?

"I'm not perfect.. but I'm a living testimony. And I owe God everything. So I'm honored to serve Him here at H. I. E. T, and wherever else He'll send me. I love y'all. God bless."

The people clapped and cheered. John shook Michael's hand before he ushered the second camper up.

Shanelle was amazed. She'd never been in the midst of such real struggle, challenge coated with the bittersweet taste of victory. The next girl who spoke had been trafficked in drug cartels throughout Cuba and the Philippines. She was evangelized to by a staff member and given a chance to start over fresh at H. I. E. T. Four months in, she gave her life to Christ, was delivered from drug addiction, and became extremely active in the ministry of evangelism. Today had marked her 5th year sober. She was happily married with two beautiful daughters.

Next, the minister that had initially called Shanelle up, got up to speak. Her name was Sherry Fields: she was one of the youth pastors. She spoke about end times and reiterated the goal of H. I. E. T Ministries. It had been birthed 15 years ago when John began to feel a strong urgency to encourage the church to build. As a former wealthy business man, he used his profit to fund ministry related things, keeping the business going while fueling the kingdom. From there came the purchase of property, the building of the school, the infirmary, the apartments, the main building, then the homes.

H. I. E. T was built for the end time church to thrive in an end time economy. The next thing they're trying to figure out is a system of trading for monetary value... Banks.

As the woman spoke, Shanelle felt a stirring on the inside. It were as if a flame had been ignited, slowly growing. She could see the vision of the church and catch is... Moreso, she could see herself connected, bringing it to past.

After the service ended, Shanelle was directed to a table where she could turn in her application and choose a cohort. Her mother was unavailable, her own signature sufficed. Group selected and date solidified, she would officially start the upcoming week.

Members milled about here and there, some leaving, some dragging behind to eat or take strolls. Shanelle didn't want the afternoon to end. Everything felt new and fresh, full of endless possibilities. Layla and Mary walked with Shanelle, showing her around and introducing her to so many people.

Layla poured out her life story, filling Shanelle in on the finest details. Then she asked Shanelle questions, something she wasn't accustomed to.

Answering them as generically as she could, Shanelle had to stifle the desire, the urge to release the secrets she kept inside. Wanting to shout aloud from the rooftops, she chose, instead, to hold her peace.

The main areas grew less and less condensed, and the girls lingered for whatever remained.

"Oh! Shanelle, the woman who does the face painting, is still here. Let's get yours done," Layla urged. Mary, nibbling on an ear of corn, shrugged with a wink.

"Girl I ain't get no makeup before," Shanelle retreated in heart, nervous.

"It's not like make up make up.... It's art. Just look at it that way. C'mon!" Layla ran ahead, flagging the woman down to see if she'd take one more volunteer.

Pinching Layla's nose playfully as she would a young child, the lady agreed. Uneasy, Shanelle sat, back straight in the wooden chair.