Marriage Masquerade: Memoirs of a Minister’S Wife

By Rana Justice

This is the story of a ministers wife who feels her lifes assignment is to remain in a difficult marriage. As she struggles to remain faithful to her vows, despite the emotional abuse, she finds comfort in learning how to hear the voice of God. The marriage was like a classroom where she learned more about herself while being taught lifes lessons as the scriptures unfolded before her daily. Marriage taught her how to trust God when she could not see or feel her way to the blissful place she had anticipated.
The former life of this ministers wife was anything but holy as she battled Satan to free herself and rise to a place of prominence in a small city in Ohio. The supernatural power of God intervened to set her free from a world of drug abuse and sin as she became obedient to the scriptures. God no longer parts the Red Sea but His involvement is active in our daily lives as He divides our sorrows, while enabling us to conquer the tests and trials brought about by our own choices.
The book ends with the untimely death of her spouse and her marriage to a new minister. See what lessons befall her this time as the marriage masquerade continues.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781503517301

Book preview

MARRIAGE

MASQUERADE

Memoires of a Minister’s Wife

RANA JUSTICE

Copyright © 2016 by Rana Justice.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2014921585

ISBN:       Hardcover       978-1-5035-1729-5

       Softcover       978-1-5035-1731-8

       eBook       978-1-5035-1730-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

KJV

Scripture quotations marked KJV are from the Holy Bible, King James Version (Authorized Version). First published in 1611. Quoted from the KJV Classic Reference Bible, Copyright © 1983 by The Zondervan Corporation.

Rev. date: 07/22/2016

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

Part 1

It Was Only A Masquerade!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Part 2

When I Was A Child

I Spake As A Child…

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Part 3

We Wrestle Not Against Flesh And Blood…

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Part 4

The Masquerade Is Over!

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

INTRODUCTION

Wow! The choir sang today, I said to myself as I took off my heels and quickly rubbed my feet. The announcements, offering, and then The Word came forth. I wondered where I would eat dinner today. I glanced at my cell phone to check my text messages. Look, Look! My neighbor said, Have you ever seen him before? I looked over the railing of the balcony and saw a handsome man standing. He was well dressed, had sandy brown hair, and as I glanced at his hands, no wedding ring, Ah ha, he’s single! I celebrated inside myself. We looked at each other and giggled.

As church went on I forgot about the mysterious visitor and focused more on what the pastor was saying. I enjoyed the message but quickly forgot about it as I hurried down the steps to catch Naomi so we could go to dinner together. I thought, She could have texted me back already, as I scrolled through my messages. Not watching where I was going I missed the last step and fell into the gentle embrace of the handsome visitor. I said, Hi, my name is Rana, as I glared into his green eyes, star struck. He said, How are you Rana? Blessed and highly favored, I responded while smiling sheepishly. I straightened up and began to gather my things off of the floor. He helped me and just as I was going to ask his name my phone rang. Naomi! A beautiful soul blessed with lousy timing. Have a great day! said the stranger while flashing his angelic smile. In that moment as I took the call, down the steps he went and out the side door. What a beautiful man, I sighed.

Sometimes the most beautiful people are the most beautifully broken. They hide behind masks to keep themselves safe from scorn. They are afraid to tell you who they really are. They have had plenty of experience exposing themselves in earlier times and coming away rejected. They make the adjustment to fit in just enough to blend in with those around them so no one can see their true identity. They often have secret lives or habits that will make them unacceptable to the majority if found out. Hiding behind a mask is something we learn to do at a young age to please our parents. From childhood they think their inner being is on display so they begin to cover up and hide themselves from eyes of judgement, secret whispers, and the hushed snickers behind their backs.

Fear of people plays a big part in the lives of those who have been wounded or traumatized in some way. The fear of being un-liked, unwanted, unattractive, or unworthy is too great to overcome. Negative judgement is like a death sentence to our self-esteem. Making a decision can be one of our greatest fears because we don’t want to look like an idiot or a crazy person for the choices we make. So we let others make our decisions and we go along hiding what we really want to avoid embarrassment. How often have we let the F.E.A.R. (False Evidence Appearing Real) of something that seemed real tell us it is better to be invisible than to speak up and be judged negatively by our peers. We find safety from harsh judgement in hiding our tell-tell faces behind masks of every sort. Hiding truth is a human behavior that proves harmful to us and others over time.

People have always been comfortable wearing masks. Hundreds of years ago facial masks were worn during masquerades, known as Carnival, in the 15th century. The elaborate Venetian masks were worn by gentlemen of the upper echelon, doctors, lawyers, and businessmen. The concept behind the mask was to hide the wearer’s identity for the evening in case he was overwhelmed by his own desire to do something naughty. The masks allowed these upper class men to mingle with common people and still keep their anonymity. To my amazement, this was acceptable behavior to local city officials as these masked revelers roamed the village streets; the only exception was when entering a business establishment the masks were removed.

Masks were always part of the festive masquerade balls. Remember saying, We had a ball! I often heard that phrase growing up and said it too but I had no clue how it originated until now. Elaborate balls seemed to set the precedence for a true celebration. Bals masqués, or masked balls could be planned for any social affair, wedding reception, or whenever there was something worthwhile to celebrate. They were comprised of lots of music and dancing, eating and the drinking of alcohol, along with elaborate costumes and masks.

These cloaked parties allowed a person to really let it all hang out behind a mask and a little bit of alcohol, and that is what they did. People became uninhibited, even a little bit wild, during this type of revelry and gaiety. In wearing a mask and an unassuming black tux a man’s identity was easily shrouded in the crowd where he could move about anonymously. This was the easiest and best way to wife-swap for the evening, if only for a night. But, it all ended at midnight when masks were removed.

Lately, I‘ve been seeing masks in department stores among the accessories throughout the year. Once they appeared in October for Halloween they seem to have remained in the stores for the duration. Then I saw masks worn at a wedding reception where no explanation was given to the guests as to why the wedding party was the only ones with them on. Their intent may have been to strike up a theme for their reception but it fell flat without the inclusion of the remaining guests. Masks are making a comeback these days but some people say it seems they have never left.

Fancy balls may be retro vie but in the celebration of my life I have experienced the highpoint of festivity as my spirit dances inside me when I remember what God has saved me from. In looking back over my life, a shout of praise left my lips when I began to tally life’s victories. Many were hidden but came into view when I put pen to paper. I wondered how I got over. In prayer my heart beats with joy as He speaks to me of His will for my future; I have no need to F.E.A.R. When surrounded by hypocrisy and pretense from those who chose to wear masks, (masks I could not see) I am not defeated. I and my soul have prospered. Dark days had only briefly hidden the sun. And at midnight, when all the masks are gone and we stand before The King, the Masquerade will truly be over.

PART 1

It was only a Masquerade!

CHAPTER 1

Anyone who has ever been married in a Pentecostal Church knows that the wedding ceremony is no joke. Standing in front of the Man of God while he’s looking into your eyes as you repeat your solemn vows is almost like looking into the face of God. When it is all over, you know you’ve just been married—for better or for worse!

It was going to be the second marriage for us both. Our brief courtship was as normal as any other Christian couple’s, not negating the fact that we prayed together, often asking for God’s will to be done over and above our own. Unwittingly, the spiritual qualities of this man was what I felt love for. He seemed clean and Christ-like; the anointing of the Lord upon him seemed to ooze down him like honey from the honeycomb. I was seeking after the love of Christ and I transferred that love I had for the unseen God onto this God-fearing representative whom I could see, touch and hear.

You see, I was a new Christian and had just come out of a horrific past; I knew I needed the stability of a husband and a home to keep my new-found salvation. Because of my youth, I never stopped to think things through at the time. I didn’t know what I should be looking for in a husband so I began looking for signs. I thought since we were both saved that God was going to make sure our lives would be harmonious and wonderful. After all, it was at His prompting that I got married anyway.

Proper wedding etiquette for divorced people was still under construction at that time. A wedding with a bridal party was not appropriate for second marriages, according to the book of etiquette. A gathering of family and close friends would have been the norm for a second marriage, however, we planned for 300 people to attend our wedding. To me, private meant by invitation only and I invited the whole church during the Sunday morning announcements. That seemed to qualify as an official invitation.

When I began my bridal march to the altar and saw the sparse attendance my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. I just wanted to go someplace and cry and never come back there again. After the ceremony when we made our descent back down the isle as a married couple, no one was able to detect how disappointed I really was. I was wearing that fake smile, the one that makes your face sore after awhile. It wasn’t easy to make my face tell a lie like that. I pulled it off though and it was all good, besides, during counseling our pastor told me that God had a wonderful life planned for me. I thought if I could just get past this day and get to the rest of my life everything would be fine.

My cousins came in from Columbus for the wedding and stayed at my mother’s house, however, my mother said she could not afford to buy anything or fix anything for them to eat. No problem, I would just ask the caterer to box the food up so it could be taken to her home. There were less than fifty in attendance so there was plenty left over. When I approached the caterer with this request she said No, that is not my usual policy. Oh, she must have made that up! What was she going to do with all that food? I couldn’t believe she was going to keep the food that belonged to the 250 missing people. The food I spent my last pennies on. I couldn’t have paid for anything else; the Pastor’s wife had to buy the candles for the sanctuary because I ran out of money. From somewhere an angry Bride-zilla rose up from inside of me and began convincing this dear sister she was going to change her "usual policy" quickly. If this day was any indication of how the rest of the marriage was going to be; my condolences to all involved, to me, my husband, and to the little children yet to come.

Yes, this was one of the worst days of my life; if not THE worst. I couldn’t figure it out. We did everything we were supposed to do—we honored God in our courtship; never slept together, not even once. We even, structured our wedding by the wedding etiquette book; we were all about trying to do things correct and proper. Why was everything going wrong? Was God in this or not?

Months later, we still felt uncomfortable whenever we saw the attendance at other weddings in the church. It was years before we found out people wanted to see the actual ceremony; they wanted to be invited with a personal written invitation not with a general announcement. After us, no one who got married for their second time bothered with etiquette; they did exactly what they wanted to do, and to heck with anyone who dared correct them. Let me tell you, our pastor’s wife literally had her hands full trying to keep Holy Matrimony Holy. Dress style changed to sleeveless and backless creating a point of contention with some and others wanted some of the non-traditional music selections. Some of those Bride-zillas went as far as trying to cut First Lady out of the planning altogether. It made for interesting conversation to see who was able to get away with the most unconventional schemes just to make their wedding unique.

On our wedding night we slept at a hotel in town and drove to Niagara Falls the next day. The sexual tension we tried so hard to fight was hardly worth the trouble afterwards. The most memorable thing about that night was that I got steak and eggs for the first time in my life the next day.

On our way out of town we stopped for gas. My new husband saw someone he knew and excitedly asked that fella to come and look at his new wife, not come meet his new wife. For some reason I became increasingly uncomfortable with that statement so I brought it up as we drove away from the station. Did he see me as a possession, a thing to have not a person to love? What am I a cat inside of a cage to be gawked at? Come and meet my wife would have been fitting, I thought over and over, not, Come and look at my new wife. Reality just kicked me, I was his trophy; a trophy for his being celibate for the last five years. As if God owed him a prize for doing what was right. A person viewed as a possession is not expected to have feelings. She is as an inanimate object, set there to look nice and keep quiet. I was annoyed. I had mostly seen him in church settings