<br><br> <center>*The lightning flashes; the thunder roars and there,
my dear, in the weather's din, I paint your lovely face.
—Lermontov* </center>
<br><br><center>
*Elemental*</center>
<br><br>There's something about storms that's connected to our emotions, a primal link between us and our environment.
Some doubt that notion dismissing it as a pathetic fallacy and decry the belief that Nature somehow mirrors our moods—but I know differently.
Spirits like dark and stormy nights and they feed off their energy.
<br><br>Sara and I came back to the college, albeit reluctantly, but I sensed the empowerment service that night was going to be some kind of watershed and provide the kind of proof we were seeking.
We had a several hours to kill before the evening session but Sara was exhausted and retired to her room leaving me at loose ends for the afternoon.
I decided to spend it in my room reviewing my notes on the ministry because I no doubt would be called to give testimony before the arch-diocesan tribunal assessing the conduct of Father Klaus and Gloria Kendal, his prophetess and occultic medium.
Well, that was the plan, but a knock on my door interrupted my agenda for the afternoon.
<br><br>I opened the door to Diana standing in the passageway. Behind her rain darkened the hallway windows lit by occasional flashes of lightning.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you, Malachi, but I was wondering if I could talk to you?"
"Of course, where do you suggest?"
She coloured a bit and lowered her voice, "I think it best we keep this talk private—may I come in?"
It was an awkward moment but I could see she was distressed, so I nodded and let her in.
<br><br>"I know you want to be mindful about conveying any hint of impropriety, but I feel I'm being observed and just need someone I can confide in."
"Please, sit down," I said, motioning to the chair, while I sat opposite her on the bed. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I think the ministry is under review by the tribunal and I believe it's the result of a complaint that misinterprets the work that we do here."
"What's the substance of the complaint?" I asked, observing her reactions closely.
<br><br>"People don't understand the real purpose of the ministry—yes we perform parish retreats but we're essentially a deliverance ministry—we minister healing and deliverance to free people from depression, spiritual attacks and night visits."
I was taken back by her words, especially freeing people from *night visits* when she was the source of my night terrors.
"So, why do you think there's a misunderstanding about your group's purpose?"
"Surely you of all people must understand, Malachi, that spiritual things must be spiritually discerned. The average person doesn't comprehend the workings of the spirit."
<br><br>"What do you expect from me, Diana?"
"I want you to support our efforts because you yourself deal with spirits the average person doesn't experience and isn't equipped to judge."
"I get where you're coming from but I don't cast out demons or use mediumistic or hypnotic techniques. And added to this is the secrecy and control exerted over your followers—Luke, for example, spending entire nights in prayer and fasting attempting to mortify his flesh and raise his so-called *prayer power*. This is more typical of a cult than a legitimate charismatic ministry."
<br><br>While we were talking the storm intensified outside. Suddenly there was a loud crash of thunder and the power went off.
The afternoon had darkened so much because of the storm that the only source of light in the room was from the window square illumined with lightning wavering like blue moonlight.
"Seems like there's war in the heavenlies," Diana whispered. Her face was altered by the lightning and it brought out the eerie, ethereal qualities in her features.
"It's simply the elements, Diana—let's not revert to the Middle Ages where atmospheric phenomena were given mystical significance."
<br><br>"I fail to fathom how a man with your abilities can't grasp the importance of mood and atmosphere to being able to see spirits."
"Oh, I understand that aspect, Diana, but I fail to see demons behind mere physical phenomena."
"You say you're not susceptible to atmosphere yet you invited me up to your room for a drink and let me in this afternoon—atmosphere changes everything—the way I look, the way you feel—the electricity between us that's not from the storm but desire which you're trying to deny."
"I don't deny there's an attraction between us but I'm refusing to allow it to control my feelings. Your arts have no power over me, Diana, and you're wrong to use them to try to entrap me. I think you should leave."
<br><br>I watched in horror as her features changed from smiling flirtation to malevolent anger as she saw her advances rejected.
I actually felt threatened by the sudden force of her passion but just when I thought she might act out her aggression she glared at me with disgust and abruptly left.
When the door slammed behind her I felt the air being sucked out of the room and began to shake. Eventually though, my fear subsided, my trembling eased and my breathing returned to normal.
I hadn't won a victory, but I had resisted. It was a small step but an important one for me in asserting my control over my own feelings and rejecting Diana's wizardry.
<br><br> <center>To be continued…</center>
<br><center>© 2021, John J Geddes. All rights reserved</center>
<br><center>[Photo](https://images.app.goo.gl/kfFEHiVBCR9YC3AA9)</center>
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