Free Don't Blame the Devil by Pat G'Orge-Walker

as he began to flip through the pages of the Bible using his good hand. “You’re not my enemy in the way the Bible describes such, and I don’t recall you ever using me.”
    â€œI haven’t,” Delilah replied. “I can promise you that.” She wanted to add more, but was drawn to the many pictures on the wall and almost everywhere else in the room. They were of Jessie, Tamara, and Cindy. There were even a few that had the deacon posing with them. Delilah’s heart raced and her blood boiled. The deacon had enjoyed what she’d given up. All this time, and her family was so close and yet so far away. I shouldn’t be the only one Jessie’s mad at. Delilah turned to the side and glared at the deacon, who’d already turned away.
    â€œBut you see”—Jessie stopped thumbing the pages as he apparently found what he sought—“this is the scripture that the Spirit brought to my mind after Tamara left and when I’d just used language that I hadn’t in years. The Word says in Proverbs 23:22, ‘Listen to your father who gave you life, and do not despise your mother when she is old.’”
    Both the deacon and Delilah were completely dumbfounded. Neither dared to breathe or to speak, each for a different reason.
    â€œNow, I haven’t used the term mother in quite a long time, unless I referred to Cindy or to my last foster mother. And I don’t know who my father is, and at this point, I’m not sure I’d believe you if you told me. I do know beyond a shadow of a doubt that at this moment it is easier for me to forgive my enemies than it is for me to forgive you. So I’m going to now do what me and Cindy always did when we confronted the devil.”
    â€œSo now I’m the devil?” Delilah’s face produced a frown that made her look very much like something she didn’t like—she looked her age.
    Jessie ignored Delilah’s question and continued. His voice remained calm despite the pain that still engulfed the hand he used to point to a room off to the side. “I’m going to go into my prayer closet. I’ll fast and talk to God. I don’t know how long it will take, but I do know this: My God will fight my battles and He’ll lead me to the place in His will where I’m to be and where He is, too.”
    â€œThen you need to pray for Jehovah-shammah’s grace,” Delilah whispered. It took all the strength she possessed not to reach out to him. She’d do anything to have it all back again.
    For a brief second both Deacon Pillar and Jessie were stunned, but Jessie recovered first. “What do you know about Jehovah-shammah?”
    As Jessie asked the question, the deacon pondered the same thing. I thought I knew all of God’s nicknames .
    â€œJehovah-shammah means ‘the Lord is there.’” Delilah’s voice was reverent as she said the name Jehovah. No matter how she prayed, it was always something about the name Jehovah that gave her the most comfort.
    â€œI know what it means,” Jessie replied. “I’m just surprised that you would.”
    Still confused, Delilah decided to take what Jessie said as something positive. “I’m so sorry you’re in this state, but you being a man of God, I know you will find it in your heart to forgive me.”
    â€œI certainly hope so, too, Delilah, because right now I can’t stand to look at you; I can’t stand to hear your excuses. To be truthful, I’m not certain I even care where you’ve been all these years, and that’s not of God, nor is it the person I truly am.”
    â€œI’m sure you’ve raised Tamara to never have a reason to look at you like that….” Delilah’s eyes swelled with tears, preventing her from explaining further, but she refused to let one drop fall. Perhaps, if she hadn’t given in to her stubbornness instead of pushing the deacon out