The house was dingy and the walls black and dusty. It was an old church hall that had been neglected for three years following a harsh rebellion.
We, the few who had heeded the comeback call, sat pensively on the grimmy pews listening to Mr. Pawel release his gems of wisdom, one at a time.
Meanwhile, outside, the wind hauled and moaned, and thick thunderheads hanged low signaling a looming storm.
The man did not give it a flying puck. He read from 2 Peter 3:10 that spoke about the Lord’s second coming. The verse stated with clarity: “The day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare.”
Mr. Pawel moved up and down the apse, affirming how he was boldly waiting for that day, and encouraged all of us to be brave too.
As he continued to elaborate, however, a red flash of lightning occured across the roof, followed by the loudest thunderclap anyone in the countryside had ever heard, probably in a century. Mr. Pawel was caught unaware. He quickly threw away the Bible and hid below one of the pews, cursing himself for the things he had done that led to the schism.
“Oh, so he was a sinner too,” I heard someone whisper behind me.
Then I heard some who thought it funny laugh and pour scorn on him.
I remained calm, sympathising with the man for still not having faith in the things he taught.
The rain began to pour immediately.