Here we are in 2016 already. I don’t know about you, but to me, 2015 seemed to go by quickly. A new year brings with it another chapter in life waiting to be written.
Speaking of writing, a book I have been working on for several years is nearing completion. It is about my experiences as a small-town mayor. I have not used names of individuals or the name of our community. Profits from book sales will be donated to local civic and nonprofit groups. Here are a few excerpts:
My phone rang. The caller asked, “Is this the Mayor?” I replied, “Yes, speaking.” The voice on the other end said, “You don’t know me. I used to live there, but I don’t anymore.”
She continued, “I have read the horrible pamphlet about you, and I have heard about the videos on social media. I know who is responsible, and I am so sorry.”
The caller gave me her name and told me she lives out of state. She explained she used to be a part of a group that is based here, and she still has family members who are involved.
“I haven’t been able to speak with my family for a few years,” she said sadly. “When you leave, you lose all contact with those who remain. My children and grandchildren no longer talk with me. My heart is broken.”
We conversed awhile about her family. She gave me details about how she left the group and what prompted her to leave. She told me she feared for my safety and that of others, and she asked if she could pray with me. She prayed and I listened. She gave me her phone number and said I could call her anytime.
I hung up the phone and thought about the conversation that had just taken place. It made me uncomfortable. I bowed my head, and I prayed for understanding, strength and guidance.
Two weeks later, I received a second call. It was another former follower. I heard more of the same — a concern for family and friends remaining in the group. It was clear they were looking to me for help. I felt a heavy burden.
The police chief stopped in my office later that day, and I told him about the two calls. Until this point, there had been relatively no communication from anyone within this group; everything seemed quite secretive.
The police chief asked me if I would try to get those who made contact with me to meet with him and other city officials. I made the call.
“I am wondering if you or other former followers might be willing to meet with me, the police chief and other officials,” I asked.
There was silence on the other end and finally I heard, “I will talk with the others and get back to you.”
In two weeks the call came. “We will meet, but we do not want to come there.”
I agreed to an out-of-town meeting. I immediately called the police chief and told him I would let him know when and where the meeting would be held.
A week later my phone rang. “Some of us have concerns. We don’t know who we can trust. We will meet, but only with you, out of town,” the former follower said.
I knew this offer might not be made again. I agreed and was given a date, time and meeting place.
I told the police chief about the change of plans. “Absolutely not!” was the chief’s response. “You are not meeting with them alone. You don’t know these people. It could be a set up. It is my job to keep you safe. You cannot go alone.”
The chief and I had a rather heated discussion. I told him I was going and would share with him anything of importance that I might learn. Needless to say, the chief was very unhappy with me, as were other city officials.
I had prayed for God’s strength and I could feel his presence. I knew this was something I needed to do. I felt protected; I was not afraid.
I told my husband next. “You are certainly not going without me,” he said.
I knew it was no use arguing. He was adamant, almost angry. I placed a call. To my relief, it was agreed. My husband could come along, but no one else.
When we arrived at our destination, we knocked on the door. A 6-foot gentleman, with a weapon strapped on his side, and a large German shepherd greeted us. My husband looked at me as if to say, “What have you gotten us in to?” His eyes showed his concern. We went in.
Categories
