Flanders the Righteous, known as the Prophet of De Pere, is challenged by Kyrie the Black, known as the Witch of De Pere. She seeks to tempt him to fall into sin and to deny Christ. She makes him go through four tests, all having something to do with ‘traditional prom gowns of the good old days,’ which is his weakness. He calls upon God to help him. She calls upon Satan to help her. Who will win this battle of good vs. evil?
THE PROPHET AND THE WITCH
By Mr. Morgan P. McCarthy
The Prophet of De Pere was reading his King James Bible at the picnic table of this unofficial little park in downtown east De Pere. He lived in apartment eight of the Colonial Apartments, truly a building over one hundred fifty years old in a city a little more than one hundred twenty-five years old.
“Why, Lord, my apartment was here before here was even De Pere,” prayed the prophet in wonder. The Prophet of De Pere had three main worship sites here in De Pere, and they were all very close to home. Two blocks north of this picnic table was Voyageur Park. One block south of this picnic table was Wells Park. And the little-used Front Street joined the two parks left and right of where he now was. This place where he now was was a public place for the people of De Pere–fishermen, picnickers, admirers of the river. Along all three of these parks, to the west, ran the Fox River. And the prophet was seated such that his back was to the river and his apartment house was before him. Behind him was a sturdy metal railing that kept people from falling down into the river. Underneath him was a
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small plat of concrete. Beyond that was a small plat of grass. Beyond that was the Fox River Trail. Beyond that was Front Street. Beyond that was the blacktopped parking lot called “The George Street Landing.” And to the side of the parking lot was his Colonial Apartments. Seeing that his place had not a cozy yard, the Prophet of DePere made these three parks “his yard.” And in nice days like today in the warm time of the year, he brought his worship to the parks to fellowship with God in the good weather. And this unofficial park here was his “in-between park.” It was late spring now in Wisconsin.
And the outdoors of noon on a Saturday at this picnic table was a great place and time to study the Scriptures alone with God. The year was 2020. He was in the book of Exodus, all ready for Exodus chapter seven through chapter eleven, wherein he knew was the story of God’s ten plagues upon Pharaoh and upon his Egypt long ago. Just then he saw a group coming toward him on the trail just in front of him. Why, it was Sedge-way vehicles that the group was riding! Sedge-way vehicles were the thing to drive these days. And the group was a big group. And it consisted of both young men and young women. And gentleman and lady alike were all dressed very formally.
“Hey,” said one young lady to her fellow travelers, “isn’t that our city’s prophet?”
They all looked toward him, “Flanders!” called out one young man.
“Hi, guys and gals,” said the Prophet of De Pere, with a wave and a standing up.
Another young lady called out, “Would it be okay with you if we stopped and talked with you, Flanders?”
And Flanders said, “I’d like that.”
And the big group parked their Sedge-way vehicles in the plot of grass, covering all of it with their means of transportation. And they came up to Flanders where he stood, the group covering all of the plat of cement where this picnic table was.
“Do you remember us, Flanders the Righteous?” asked another young woman in her formal dress.
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“I do,” said Flanders. “You are the group that I led to salvation last fall when you were on your way to the Homecoming Dance.”
Another young lady spoke and said, “Well today we are going to the prom, good prophet.”
“Those are prom gowns that you have on then?” asked Flanders the Righteous.
“Uh huh,” said another prom girl.
In his thoughts of long ago, he remembered when, to him, prom dresses were prom dresses. Those used to be so exciting even just to see—prom gowns of ago, that is. Those were back in the days of the late 1980’s, early 1990’s. Such elegant ladies in elegant dresses prom girls used to be back thirty years ago. But these contemporary prom girls in today’s fashions were not exciting to see for him right now. How the decades had taken acetate away from the fashions for prom dresses to his dismay. Inside his heart, Flanders the Righteous pined for the good old days when prom gowns were magic and wondrous and stirring.
“Prophet of De Pere,” asked another young lady, “could you teach us from the Word of God again?”
And joy returned to his heart for the love of the Holy Bible. And he said, “I’d be glad to. Would you like to hear about the ten plagues of God cast upon Egypt and Pharaoh?”
“Yes, O prophet!” exclaimed the whole bunch going to the prom.
And he summarized the ten plagues: “In the first plague, God turned the Nile River into blood. In the second plague, God sent a deluge of frogs upon Egypt. In the third plague, God smothered Egypt with lice en masse. In the fourth plague, God sent down upon Egypt grievous swarms of flies. In the fifth plague, God smote the animals of Egypt with a deadly pestilence. In the sixth plague, God struck man and beast of Egypt with sore boils everywhere. In the seventh plague, God rained down upon Egypt a horrific hail the likes of which was never seen before. In the eighth plague. God smote Egypt with an innumerable army of devouring locusts such as never was seen before and such as would
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never be seen again. In the ninth plague, God brought down upon the kingdom of Egypt for three days a darkness that was so black that it could be felt. And in the tenth plague, the ‘grande finale’ of the plagues one could say, God struck dead all the firstborn among Egypt; and there was not one family in Egypt that there was not one dead. Even mighty Pharaoh’s firstborn son was smitten dead.”
“Thank you for the sermon, Prophet,” said the party going to the prom.
“You’re welcome,” said Flanders the Righteous. “Go and enjoy the prom.”
“We will, Flanders,” they all said. And they got back on their Sedge-way vehicles and continued on their ride to De Pere High School.
And Flanders was alone with God once again. And he rejoiced at having been able to give out the Word of God to these good young men and women, all of whom he had led to Christ last fall when they were on their way to the Homecoming dance.
Then he remembered the prom dresses that all the girls were wearing today in 2020. And he pined for the prom gowns of yesteryear back in 1990. And he waxed wistful, and a little sad. To cheer himself back up, he began to read the Bible. And he soon found again his joy in the Lord.
As he read in the Bible, he came upon Moses contending against the magicians of Pharaoh in a battle of God vs. Satan. It was a battle of prophet vs. wizards in a show of force. And it was a test of magic. This was what Flanders the Righteous did read here at the picnic table: “And the Lord spake unto Moses and unto Aaron, saying, When Pharaoh shall speak unto you, saying, Shew a miracle for you: then thou shalt say unto Aaron, Take thy rod, and cast it before Pharaoh, and it shall become a serpent. And Moses and Aaron went in unto Pharaoh, and they did so as the Lord had commanded: and Aaron cast down his rod before Pharaoh, and before his servants, and it became a serpent. Then Pharaoh also called the wise men and the sorcerers: now the magicians of Egypt, they also did in like manner with their enchantments. For they cast down every man his rod, and they became serpents: but Aaron’s rod swallowed up their rods.” Exodus 7:8-12.
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Clearly did this Bible passage prove that God was more powerful than was Satan. And the Prophet of DePere of today was endowed with a portion of the Holy Spirit that the Old Testament prophets Elijah and Elisha had back in their day. Flanders the Righteous had supernatural power from Above. And though he did know the Holy Spirit most intimately, he knew his Bible even more so. All of DePere and the rest of Brown County all knew about this modern-day prophet. And his fame even traveled beyond the borders of Wisconsin. But he had a cross to bear that weighed down upon him daily and did bring him down into slough of despond. And this was his loneliness as a prophet. The celebrated Prophet of De Pere was lonesome, because he never had a girlfriend. He had prayed daily that God give him a girlfriend, but God never told him, “Yes.” And the kind of girlfriend that he thought would make him happy were a pretty brunette prom girl from the fashions of those dreamy bygone days of prom gowns. Red or green or purple or blue or yellow or maroon or white—any color that such a traditional prom dress girl wore as his girlfriend would make him the happiest that he could be. A black prom dress? Such a girl he could affectionately call, “My Fable.” And his life as the boyfriend of a black prom gown girlfriend he affectionately daydreamed as “My Fabled Times.”
Just then a strange voice called forth from afar, “Hello, down there!” He looked up and saw a strange woman at the top of the hill of the George Street Landing, the girl standing on the sidewalk between North Broadway Street and South Broadway Street. She was looking at him and waving and asking, “Flanders the Righteous?”
He stood up beside the picnic table, waved back in uncertainty, and called back to the far-away young lady, “Yes. It is I. Who are you?” She was a girl dressed in black denim.
And without saying another word, the woman in black began to walk toward him where he stood. She was a brunette. And she was a kind of pretty brunette. And she had on a black denim skirt and a black cotton long-sleeved shirt and black denim vest and black fishnets and black leather boots.
And over her face was a black mask. And she sat down on his picnic table on the other side.
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And she said, “I have long wanted to speak to you, Flanders the Righteous.”
He now sat down with her, across the table. “I’m sorry, Miss,” he said. “But I do not know you.”
“Everybody has heard of me,” said the lady in black.
“Do tell me,” he said.
And the lady in black spoke a chant, “O, Jannes, Jambres, fetch me my witch hat.”
Behold, suddenly a black witch hat appeared on her brunette head. She put her hands to her witch hap to keep it sure and steady. And the prophet of De Pere now knew who she was.
“Kyrie the Black, it is you,” he said.
“The very Witch of De Pere herself, O prophet,” said Kyrie the Black.
“After all of these years, we finally meet, my wicked foe,” Flanders the Righteous said to her.
“I had to see you and to talk with you, O man of God,” said the witch.
“Nay, Kyrie the Black. Did you not instead come to test me and to tempt me?” asked Flanders with spiritual discernment.
“I simply came to inquire,” said the Witch of De Pere.
“Inquire, O witch. And expect the truth from the Word of God,” said Flanders.
“I found out that you have a thing for old-time prom dresses,” said Kyrie.
“You know that,” he conceded.
“Oh, I do,” she said.
“I did not give myself away,” he said.
“Demons read your thoughts; they come to me; they tell me what you’re thinking,” said the Witch of De Pere.
“A witch’s endowment from the Devil,” said Flanders in caution.
“You are one lonely prophet, O Flanders the Righteous,” said Kyrie the Black in another secret
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stolen by the demons and revealed to her.
“Are not all prophets lonely?” he asked.
“Oh, but, Flanders, you’re loneliness can only be cured by a girlfriend,” said Kyrie.
“Ah, a third secret taken from my thoughts from the demons and told you,” said Flanders the Righteous, falling into a disadvantage before Kyrie the Black.
“There is nothing that I do not know about you, O Flanders,” said Kyrie.
“I would say that those three things are the only three things that you know about the Prophet of De Pere, O witch Kyrie,” said Flanders.
She said nothing, but raised her arms to both sides in indication of acknowledgment to what he said. Indeed, she did not know all about him. She only knew about him his desires for prom gowns, for prom gown women, for a prom gown girlfriend. He dared say no more about those three things. And he dared not think thoughts in his head about those three things here before her now at this picnic table. And the prophet set his thoughts upon God as he sat and chatted with Kyrie the Black.
Then she said, “But what do you know about me, Flanders?”
“I never met you before. I never knew what you look like. I never witnessed to you. I never talked to you before,” he said.
“Was I forgotten even in your thoughts, Flanders?” asked the Witch of De Pere.
“I have prayed for you that you repent and get right with God,” said Flanders the Righteous.
“Tsk! Tsk!” rebuked the witch. “That is not the thing to pray for for a pretty girl to do.”
“Pretty girl or plain girl,” began Flanders, “your destiny as a witch is a most dread Hell as long as you live without Christ.”
“What else do you know about me, O Prophet of De Pere?” asked Kyrie the Black.
“I know that you mastered witchcraft at an early age, and that you scare this whole city with your powers,” said Flanders.
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“You heard of my powers,” bragged Kyrie the Black.
“I have,” said Flanders.
“Are you afraid of my powers?” asked the witch.
“No,” he said.
“What if I were to turn you into a dog?” asked the Witch of De Pere.
“If you were to turn a prophet into a dog, you would first have to get past God. And God stands before me to shield me from supernatural danger,” said Flanders the Righteous.
“What if I were to send a demon into yourself?” challenged Kyrie.
“You cannot send a demon into myself,” said Flanders. “I’m a born-again believer.”
“Why can’t I possess you with a demon?” she asked.
“Because all born-again Christians like myself are filled with the Holy Spirit. And when the Holy Spirit comes to indwell that believer at his moment of conversion, that Holy Spirit will keep any evil spirit from coming within the child of God from then on,” said Flanders.
“What if I were to strike you dead?” asked the Witch of De Pere.
“If you were to strike me dead, I would immediately go home to Heaven and be with God in my most blessed eternity to come,” said Flanders.
“How come?” she asked.
“Because all born-again Christians have a mansion waiting for them in Heaven for when they die,” said Flanders the Righteous. “And I am born again.”
“Aren’t you afraid of my powers?” asked Kyrie the Black, no longer knowing what to say to the great prophet.
“I fear not your powers, woman,” said Flanders.
“What can a girl say?” asked the Witch of De Pere, at a loss for words.
“Let a prophet of God say a few words to you, Kyrie the Black,” said Flanders.
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“Say on, my old foe,” said Kyrie in resignation.
“The Scriptures have a few things to say about how God feels about witches,” began Flanders a sermon to the witch. “In I Samuel chapter 28, King Saul sought a witch to give him counsel. Because of Saul’s sins, God no longer told him what to do. And Saul was about to take on the Philistines in battle at Mount Gilboa. And the king was afraid now of the Philistines. In righteousness the king had already declared all witches to be outlawed. But in unrighteousness he broke his own law and went looking for a witch. Saul thought, if God would not tell him what to do against the Philistines, maybe Samuel, who was passed away, could tell him. And Saul found a witch called ‘the witch of Endor.’ And he asked her to bring up Samuel from the underworld to give him advice. And one whom
Saul thought to be Samuel appeared by the witchcraft of the witch of Endor. And this spirit told Saul that he would most definitely die in battle the next day. And God was not pleased that Saul had sought a witch to answer his questions. And Saul fell in battle that next day.”
“Is that it?” asked the Witch of De Pere.
“Where do you think that the witch of Endor ended up if she did indeed never repent and get right with God?” asked Flanders the Righteous.
“Where Saul did?’ asked Kyrie the Black. Flanders gave a nod.
“Further,” said Flanders, “are the words of Galatians 5:19-21.” He then said, “In these three verses is a list of the works of the flesh, of which one that does these things is said to ‘never inherit the kingdom of God.’ What do you think that one of those works of the flesh might be, Kyrie the Black?”
The Witch of De Pere shook her head and said, “I do not know.”
“Witchcraft, “said Flanders. “Witchcraft, which is a curse upon those who practice it.”
“So what?” she said in brazen contempt.
He continued and did not stop. “Also in Deuteronomy 18:10-11, God talked about all manner of people who wrought magic in the Old Testament. All such people were an abomination unto Him.
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Do you know one of the kinds of Satanists that was in this list, Kyrie?” he asked her.
“Was it ‘witches?’” she asked.
“It was witches, all abominable unto the holy God.” he said. “And in II Chronicles 33:6, God talks about the evil deeds of wicked King Manasseh of Judah. He was the most sinful king of the entire Southern Kingdom dynasty. And this verse says about him, ‘…, and [he] used witchcraft,…’” Flanders continued, “And then there is II Kings 9:22, where it talks about the wicked deeds of Queen Jezebel, the most wicked queen of the history of the Northern Kingdom. Therein this verse says about her, ‘…and her witchcrafts are so many?’”
“I am not Manasseh, and I am not Jezebel,” said Kyrie the Black.
“Finally in Exodus 22:18, it is written, ‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,’” concluded the Prophet of De Pere.
“The Witch of De Pere shall live forever!” declared Kyrie the Black.
“You are accursed and without hope,” proclaimed Flanders the Righteous.
“Let’s just see,” said the proud arrogant Kyrie.
“What do you mean, ‘let’s just see?’” asked Flanders, strong in the Lord.
“If your God is so great and my god is not so great, let’s see how a prophet of God does when he is put to the test,” said the Witch of De Pere.
“Test me, and I shall come forth the finer,” said Flanders, his eyes upon God.
“I have four tests to tempt you with, O Prophet of De Pere,” bragged Kyrie the Black. “If you pass them all, then I will say that your God is stronger than my god. But if you fail even just one of them, then I will say that my god is stronger that your God.”
“My God being the Lord; and your god being the Devil?” he asked.
“Yes,” said the witch.
“I feel it my place in the Lord to endure your four tests, O Kyrie,” he said.
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“Shall we begin?” she asked.
“Let us begin,” said Flanders the Righteous.
“Test I,” began the Witch of De Pere. And she summoned with a petition, “Jannes, Jambres, bring me a bunch of prom gown catalogs with which I can get this prophet’s eyes off of God.”
Behold, upon the picnic table a cardboard box all sealed and shut up. On the outside was a label of blue and red and white which read, “Union of International Ladies Garment Manufacturers.”
“I gather that there are catalogs of prom dresses in here,” said Flanders.
“Not just any fashion catalogs at that for you, O prophet,” she said.
“Prom gowns are my weakness,” he said what she already knew.
“And these are not just any prom gown catalogs, Flanders the Righteous. “All of these are from 1988 and 1989 and 1990 and 1991. What do you make of that?”
“Those were the good years for prom dresses,” he said.
‘Well, go ahead and open it up and look,” said Kyrie the Black.
“It would not dishonor God for me to open it up and look,” he said. “My mind does not stray into bad thoughts when it comes to prom girls. What I see when I look at a prom girl is an elegant lady in an elegant dress.”
“All the better for you to take a look at such things that you have not seen since 1988 and 1989 and 1990 and 1991,” tempted the Witch of De Pere.
He hesitated. And he said, “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.”
“Flanders, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” tempted the witch.
“A gift from a witch is a double-edge sword,” he said.
“Just think, Flanders, in this box are lots and lots of pictures of shiny dresses of acetate,” she said.
He said in prayer, “It is written in Proverbs 22:3, ‘A prudent man foreseeth the evil, and hideth
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himself: but the simple pass on, and are punished,’”
“At least defer to me and open it up, Flanders,” said the frustrated Kyrie the Black.
Strong in the Lord, he put his hands on his lap and would not reach out to this box of prom fashion catalogs from the good old days.
“Well, I guess that I have to open it for you, stubborn prophet,” she said.
And she called upon Jannes and Jambres, and a box cutter appeared in her hand. And she proceeded to run it across the mailing tape along the top. And the box was opened. And she drew back the four flaps to the edges of this box.
Flanders turned away and would not look.
“Flanders, you know perfectly well that prom fashion catalogs are not sin to look at,” said the Witch of De Pere.
“You are right. Prom gown pictures are not sin in themselves,” said Flanders the Righteous. “But if they are given by a witch, only bad things can happen from that.”
“Trust me, Flanders,” she said. “How can a witch make a good thing like these catalogs a bad thing for a prophet?” She then gave this box a push with both hands, and it slid off of the picnic table top, and it landed squarely upon his lap. This box’s top was wide open. And Flanders the Righteous caught a good glimpse of a traditional prom gown model.
He prayed to God for wisdom in an audible prayer. And he took out this top magazine from the box and set it upon the picnic table. Its cover read, “Prom 1988.” And thereupon was a young lady in a lustrous red prom gown. She was a redhead. And she had on red pumps that matched her prom dress. “Is what you see before you now, Flanders, not a good and wholesome elegant lady in an elegant dress?” asked the witch.
“They do not make prom dresses anymore like they used to,” he said, admiring the picture and waxing pensive.
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“Wasn’t that the year when prom gowns first came unto their own for you, Prophet?” asked Kyrie the Black.
“Yeah. Yeah, Kyrie,” he said.
“Does this prom gown fashion catalog bring back good memories for you of happy times?” she asked.
“Would that I had had a catalog such as this one for myself back in 1988,” he said wistfully.
“Well, Flanders the Righteous, now you’ve go a whole box of them,” said the Witch of De Pere.
“I should thank you, Kyrie,” he said.
“A thanksgiving is due,” said Kyrie.
“Thank you,” said Flanders.
“Now you can do something for me,” she said.
“Name it,” he said.
“All that I ask is that you deny Jesus for me,” she said.
“Deny Jesus?” he asked. “Hardly, O Witch of De Pere.”
“If you do not deny Jesus before me, then I will take away this box from you as quickly as I gave it to you,” threatened the witch.
Mighty in the Holy Spirit, Flanders fired Scripture point-blank, saying, “Kyrie the Black, it is written about my Jesus, ‘He only is my rock, and my salvation: he is my defence; I shall not be moved.’ Psalm 62:6.”
She was thrown into a confusion with this Bible verse smiting her where she sat.
And Flanders prayed, “Lord, I pray You, take away these prom fashion catalogs in the way You deem best.”
And Flanders put the catalog he was holding down into the box. Behold, the winds of the Holy Spirit now blew upon the box and lifted it up off of the prophet’s lap and did carry it out above the Fox
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River. In dismay, Kyrie ran after it, stopped at the railing, and grabbed for it just beyond the railing. But it was too late, The box was let fallen down into the deep river. And she saw it no more. Flanders remained there at the picnic table, his back facing the witch and the river. Flanders had passed test I. He had refused to deny his Jesus. And God won. And the witch frowned.
And she came back for more. And he kept his eyes on God. And she was exasperated and vengeful now. This next test would be harder for him to overcome.
And she threw herself upon the bench at the picnic table across from him, and she cursed him his righteousness, and she huffed at his Jesus. She adjusted her black witch hat so that it would remain steady upon her brunette head. She adjusted her black mask about her eyes. She said, “I’m not done with you. I tell you, Flanders the Righteous.”
“I await and expect your next temptation, O Witch of De Pere,” said Flanders the Righteous.
“Test II,” declared the witch. And she chanted her next spell, “Jannes, Jambres, I will you to send to this picnic table vintage prom gowns that would fit me and of all kinds of colors that vintage prom gowns used to come in.”
Behold, a treasure chest made of wood six feet long by two feet wide by one foot high. It appeared on the cement to Flanders’s right and to Kyrie’s left. Affixed to the wooden treasure chest was that same logo reading, “Union of International Ladies Garment Manufacturers.”
“What is this label that keeps showing up?” he asked.
“That union was the former union that made all of those classic prom dresses that you love so much back in the day,” said Kyrie the Black.
“I learned something,” he said in reflection.
She then said, “Well, prophet, go ahead and open up the chest. It is a treasure chest just for you.”
“It is no surprise to you, I would venture, that I refuse to open it,” said Flanders.
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“Oh, but prophet,” she said, “this time they are all the real thing.”
“Those pictures were plenty enough for me,” he said. “Any thing like the real thing would be a definite stumbling block for me.”
“Oh, but a sweet enlightenment would it bring to your heart, Flanders the Righteous,” said Kyrie. “I would bet that a guy like you never got to really take a good look at a prom gown all by itself before. Now is your big chance.”
He said to God in prayer, “’I will set no wicked thing before mine eyes:…’ Psalm 101:3.”
“What’s wicked for you is not wicked for me,” said Kyrie the Black.
And she got up from her bench, went over to Flanders’s side, and lifted the wooden lid to the treasure chest. And she saw. And he saw. She turned not away. He turned away.
“They’re right here, Flanders. Look at them. I may have to take them away otherwise,” she warned him.
“I comprehend ramifications, O Witch of De Pere,” said Flanders the Righteous.
And, calling upon Jannes and Jambres, Kyrie asked them to turn the stubborn prophet’s face back toward the treasure chest of garments. And Flanders had to turn back to look upon the pile of prom gowns. And he pondered their sensual captivation. “Well now, Prophet of De Pere. What do you think now?”asked Kyrie.
“They are real!” he said. “These prom gowns are all real!”
“A red one and a blue one and a purple one and a green one and a white one,” said Kyrie the Black. “Five real prom dresses from your ‘good old days.’”
“They look like quite the catch,” he said.
“They are size ten,” said the Witch of De Pere. “I am a size ten.”
Not turning from them, he said, “There has to be a trick to this. No witch conjures things with her witchcraft without bad consequences for her victim.”
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“Never mind extenuating circumstances, O prophet of God,” said Kyrie the Black.
“Every choice a person makes brings forth a result,” he said. “All reap what they sow—in this life or in the life to come.”
Because of her witchcraft, Flanders was providentially hindered from turning away from the five prom gowns. So he closed his eyes to this temptation in the treasure chest.
“Flanders, do I have to dump the pile upon your lap?” threatened Kyrie.
“A lap is no place for five prom dresses,” he said.
“Then open your eyes,” she said in malice. He opened his eyes and saw the sheen of five different colors upon five similar cuts of the cloth there in the treasure chest. “That’s better,” she said. “Isn’t that better now?”
“I do say that this treasure is a veritable menagerie,” he confessed.
“They’re yours now, Flanders the Righteous,” said the witch, “yours not only to see, but also to touch,”
“My hands have never touched acetate,” he said.
“Well now is a good first time for you,” said the Witch of De Pere.
“I cannot do that sin against my holy God,” he said.
“Touching a few dresses is sin?” she asked matter-of-fact. “Flanders, hear the words that you say.”
He thought upon her mockery, and he felt foolish at so great resistance to so simple an action.
What could come were he to pick up these true prom gowns now and take a good hungry and thirsty look at them in his hands? Now was the time to dare try a brave new thing in his life. Yet he instead brought his hands back and kept them behind his back and would not reach out to the prom gowns in the treasure chest. The Prophet of De Pere was mighty in God in both fortitude and integrity.
Incensed, the Witch of De Pere said, “Stubborn Christian, we will not leave here until you reach
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out and touch them. And your face will be forced to look at them until you give in.”
With a shake of his head the prophet broke the magic spell on his neck, and he turned away from the contents of the treasure chest.
“Curses!” screeched Kyrie the Black. “I command you, Flanders, to deny your Christ!” And she held up the treasure chest in her arms most defiantly in his face. “If you do that, I will give you all of these prom gowns for you to enjoy for the rest of your life,” she promised.
In God’s will, Flanders stood up, and he said, “Kyrie the Black, is is written for believers like myself, ‘Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us. Selah.’ Psalm 62:8.”
Kyrie dropped the treasure chest accidentally upon her foot, and she cursed goodness.
Then Flanders said, “O God Above, I pray You send fire down from Heaven and burn up these five prom dresses.”
And God sent fire down from Heaven upon the five prom gowns in the wooden chest. The witch quickly backed away from the burning menagerie and cried out in alarm. She was not burned. And he was fine. And he won this second test from the Witch of De Pere.
“By the grace of God, you beat me, Flanders,” she said. “You overcame your temptations. You prevailed over test II. And I am the one who got the worst of it.”
A silent moment of brooding and fuming came upon the Witch of De Pere.
“But you are not done with the Prophet of De Pere yet. Are you, Kyrie the Black?” asked Flanders.
“I will get you for sure in Test III, O Flanders the Righteous.” she said. “I know something about you that none of your disciples know about you.”
“What might that be, Kyrie the Black?” he asked.
“Let me just say that it is something that even you do not know about yourself,” said Kyrie.
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“Well. Go ahead, witch. Tempt me with test III,” said Flanders the Righteous.
“I think that I will let you think about it for a while and make you to dwell and to worry,” said Kyrie.
“Then that will give me time to pray,” said the godly Prophet of De Pere.
“No. That won’t do,” she said in a snap.
And Flanders the Righteous took this time to pray to God for Holy Spirit strength and wisdom, saying, “Dear God, in Mark 14:38 it is written, ‘Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak.’”
“Now I’ve gone and done it,” grumbled the Witch of De Pere. “Never give a prophet time to pray. I should have known better with you, Flanders.”
“Try me,” said Flanders, his thoughts fixed on Almighty God.
And Kyrie the Black called forth to the demon world, “O Jannes, Jambres, I ask you now to make this man to know all about what being a prom dress girl is.”
Behold, a black prom dress suddenly appeared on Flanders’s lap where he sat. He was speechless upon discovering this resting right upon him as it was. And he was dumbfounded.
“Flanders, if you think that your lap is no place for five prom gowns, do you also think that it is no place for one black prom gown instead?” asked Kyrie the Black. And she laughed in gloating upon him.
He said nothing. Instead he found himself looking in upon the tag within the prom gown.
Sure enough, there where it most belonged was that familiar emblem of blue and red and white with the words, “Union of International Ladies Garment Manufacturers.”
“Are you looking for something, O Prophet of De Pere?” asked Kyrie the Black.
“The label,” he said. “I’ve got to see the other label.”
“I can see that you’re looking for the label that tells the size.” she taunted him.
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“I need to know that this is not a size that could fit me,” he said.
“You need to know if this prom dress will fit you,” said the witch. “That’s what you really mean to say,”
He found the size tag, and he said out loud in confusion, “It says ‘size fourteen.’”
“Women’s size fourteen, O Prophet of De Pere,” said Kyrie the Black.
“What size is a women’s size fourteen for a man like myself?” he asked.
“For a man like yourself, a woman’s size fourteen is probably a man’s size medium,” she said to him in mock.
“I’m a man’s size medium,” said Flanders.
“Well, then, Flanders, today you are a woman’s size fourteen,” said the gloating Witch of De Pere.
“This…prom down,..this black prom gown…will fit me then,” he asked in hope and regret.
“Would my witchcraft make a mistake and conjure for the Prophet of De Pere a black prom gown that would not fit him?” taunted Kyrie the Black.
“You vile cheater,” said Flanders the Righteous, taken aback by his desires.
“You never thought about putting on any of these prom dresses that you saw so many women wearing in your old life back in the days,” she said.
“It never occurred to me,” he said. “Then the styles changed, and they were never the same since.”
“Welcome back to years ago, Flanders,” said Kyrie the Black. “Now not only do you have your own prom dress, but you can also put it on now.”
“Was that the secret that you knew about me that I did not know about myself?” asked Flanders the Righteous.
“Uh huh,” said the Witch of De Pere, “I found that out before you did.”
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“What a revolting revelation,” said Flanders, doubting himself.
“Well, go ahead, Flanders. Put it on before you go and change your mind,” tempted Kyrie. “Your apartment eight is right over there in the building across the street. Go in and dress up.”
“Isn’t that called ‘cross dressing?’” he asked her.
“You can finally become the drag queen in a traditional prom gown, Flanders,” said Kyrie sweetly.
He picked it up in his hands and studied it. It was all sleek black. The front had a bodice of smooth acetate with strings on the top. And the skirt portion was of acetate covered with lace. And the back had a long zipper and a big bow tie at the rump. And it came with a black long-sleeved prom jacket with padded shoulders.
“Tell me, Flanders, have you ever seen so elegant a dress like this on any elegant lady before?” tempted Kyrie the Black.
“No, I have not,” said Flanders. “This is the most sexy prom dress that I have ever seen.”
“Now put it on and feel what we girls feel when we go to the prom,” said the witch.
And he remembered his good walk with Christ as a happy memory of good days for him. That would be his life for the rest of his time on earth were he to put this on right now—just remembrances. It was not too late. He could prevail over Test III. And his good walk with Christ would continue in its good days for him were he to say, “No,” to this overwhelming fetish upon him now all of a sudden.
And the Prophet of De Pere rallied and said, “It is written, ‘Truly my soul waiteth upon God; from him cometh my salvation.’ Psalm 62:1.” The prophet found his strength in God to say, “No.”
Relentless and at her own peril, the Witch of De Pere said to him, “If you deny Christ, I will give you this prom down. You really need it, Flanders.”
“No, you wicked witch!” he rebuked her, scaring her. And he contemptuously rolled up these
two pieces of this prom dress into a ball and threw it back into the witch’s face. And with Holy Ghost
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power, he said, “I will not disappoint my Heavenly Father.”
“Why not?” asked Kyrie the Black, seeing a Godly prophet’s wrath at sin. “Are you afraid that your Heavenly Father will hurt you?”
“No, Witch of De Pere,” said Flanders. “I am afraid that I will hurt my Heavenly Father.”
“Curse you, O stalwart prophet!” cried out Kyrie the Black.
Then Flanders the Righteous prayed to God Up in Heaven: “Dear Father in Heaven, take away this abominable prom gown away from me for forever.”
And God caused worms to appear on this garment where it lay upon the cement before the picnic table. Worms as numerous as a little plague were crawling around all throughout this diabolical fetish—inside and outside, up and down, and left and right. And worms consumed all of this two-part prom gown in a short while. And the prom dress was soon no more. And the worms disappeared.
“I thought I had you that time, Prophet,” confessed Kyrie. “But once again, God gave you the victory. You have beat me a third time now. And you have passed test III.”
“That I have,” said the Prophet of De Pere.
“One more test to go,” said Kyrie the Black.
“Kyrie, are you yet sure of victory?” asked the Prophet of De Pere with some scorn.
“No. Now I am not so sure of victory,” she said, somewhat humbled.
“I am,” he said. “I have power from God.”
“Your God is a most efficacious Deliverer,” said Kyrie.
“And He will deliver me through Test IV,” said Flanders. Test IV would be the last test.
“We’ll see about that,” said Kyrie the Black.
“Witch of De Pere,” asked Flanders the Righteous, “are you a betting woman?”
“I can be,” said Kyrie.
“I suggest a wager,” said Flanders.
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“A wager, you say,” said the witch.
“If I pass test IV, Kyrie, then you have to hear me tell you the testimony of my salvation,” said Flanders.
“No. No. You know how witches cannot stand preaching,” said Kyrie the Black.
“It might even change your mind about Jesus,” said the Prophet of De Pere.
“Never!” she exclaimed. “Not this witch!” Then she asked, “And if I win…?”
“If I lose in test IV, then I have to hear you tell me how you discovered your witchcraft,” said Flanders the Righteous.
“Oh, how I love to brag!” she exclaimed.
“Is it a bet, O Kyrie?” he asked.
“It is a bet,” she said. And they shook hands in bet.
Calling upon God in prayer, Flanders said, “It is written, O Lord, ‘Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.’ Matthew 26:41.” And he was ready.
And Kyrie paused for a clever prelude, saying, “Flanders, I know how you are attracted to me now. You see a fair young nymph with you alone at this picnic table today, and you want to be with her at this picnic table again tomorrow. You never had a real girl spend real time with you before on a real date at a real place. You are fond of my brown hair. You like my eyes that you can see behind this mask. You like my feminine voice. You like my fairly tall stature. And my very name, ‘Heidi,’ is unto you like a song. And, I dare say, you want to date Kyrie the Black even against the will of God.”
“How can such a thing be?” he asked.
“Secretly you wondered to yourself in your prayers if the Witch of De Pere were a fair young woman or not,” said Kyrie. “Isn’t that so, Flanders?”
“I did not know what you looked like until today,” he said.
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“Am I pretty enough to be a prophet’s steady girlfriend?” asked Kyrie the Black.
“No other woman has ever asked me out on a date before,” he confessed.
“Would you like to go out with me?” she asked.
“Maybe we can call this first get-together a date,” he said in vacillation.
“Maybe we can call tomorrow our rendezvous,” said the Witch of De Pere.
“A real rendezvous,” he said in thoughts out loud.
“A real first date,” she said about today. In subtle temptations, Kyrie then asked, “What should I wear for my handsome hunk?” But she already knew.
“Something black,” he said.
“Something black just right for Kyrie the Black?” she asked, ready to spring her surprise on him.
“Something just right for this first date right now,” he said.
And the Witch of De Pere conjured more witchcraft, saying, “O Jannes, O Jambres, dress me up, if you would, as a prom siren.”
Behold, Kyrie the Black in the very same prom dress that she had tempted him with in test III, but one that fit her and one that was on her! Her black prom gown had a bodice of sleek acetate with strings over the shoulders, had a Basque waistline, had a shiny skirt portion that reached to just below her knees, all in acetate and lace, had a little jacket of acetate with long sleeves and padded shoulders, and had a long zipper in back and a big bow tie at the rump. In addition, the witch also had on her black mask and a black witch hat and black fishnets and black pumps with block heels. This was the complete woman that Flanders had not only never had, but even had never seen before.
Spinning in place, the Witch of De Pere said those six words to him in charm, “Union of International Ladies Garment Manufacturers.”
“Prom girl of prom girls!” he called forth to so-comely Heidi now.
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“Flanders, would you like to go to the prom with me right now?” she asked.
“What can a lonely guy like me say to that?” he asked.
“Let’s go to the prom,” she said.
“Let’s,” he said.
“Let’s call this our first date,” she said.
“Let’s,” he said.
“Let’s have our rendezvous tomorrow right here,” she said.
“Let’s,” he said.
“Let’s go steady,” she said.
“Let’s!” he said,
“Let’s deny Jesus,” she said.
“Let’s not, Kyrie,” he said, brought back down to reality.
“Deny Christ,” she said, “and I will make sure that you will never be lonesome again.”
“How can I sin and do this great evil to my Saviour?” he asked.
“Just say then, ‘God, I need this woman a little more than I need You right now,’” she said.
“I will never deny Christ,” he said.
“God has denied you a woman your whole life,” said Kyrie the Black. “Look at how God denied you. At least think about that and go and deny him right back,”
He had to choose now between God and girlfriend. He had never found himself in a dilemma like this before. What he would choose now would be with him for the rest of his life. And what he would not choose now would be gone from him for the rest of his life.
A still small voice of the Holy Spirit of God spoke to him now, saying to him most truthfully, “My son, the girl’s a witch.”
And he stood before the Witch of De Pere, himself convicted of his own greatest temptation,
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and he said to the wicked woman of the Devil, “It is written, ‘My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him.’ Psalm 62:5.”
And with the power of God’s spoken Word, Flanders the Righteous overcame temptation with great power and wisdom and faithfulness. And the Witch of De Pere was defeated to the uttermost.
Then Flanders called upon God to take away the siren’s allures. Behold, the Witch of De Pere was no longer in her black prom gown, but instead in her black denim outfit of the day. And she was his temptress no more. Kyrie the Black confessed, “You have passed Test IV, O Prophet of De Pere. I have no more tests in me to tempt you with. I am weary from my much witchcraft. And I have to sit down.”
She sat down, took some breaths, then said, “Your Jesus is bigger and stronger than my Satan. You, as a prophet, are bigger and stronger than myself, as a witch. And good is bigger and stronger than evil. I give up, Flanders. You win. I lose.” And she took off her witch hat and set it upon the picnic table. And she took off her mask and set it upon the picnic table next to her witch hat. And now her face looked upon him without its embellishments of witch hat and mask. And the Witch of De Pere did not look so comely now to him now that her whole face could be seen.
And he said, “I passed Test IV and all the tests, O Kyrie.”
“Woe! I have to hear all about how you found Christ as Saviour,” said Kyrie the Black in consternation.
“It will do you good to hear about how the Prophet of De Pere had first become a born-again Christian,” said Flanders in triumph.
“Okay,” said Kyrie the Black. “Go ahead. Tell me.”
And he said the following to the witch, “When I was young and a little boy, I read science fantasy books. And I read about witches and wizards and dragons and wyvern. And I read this genre so much that I said to myself, ‘When I grow up, I want to be a wizard.’ And I began to seek the occult.
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I had a teacher. He was called ‘The Wizard of De Pere.’ He was a wizard of the wind. I called him, ‘Master.’ And he called me, ‘Subject.’ And I was his favorite pupil. Master had a dozen pupils in his class. And I was his youngest. I was thirteen years old. The old wizard indeed conjured winds with his magic spells. He wrought gentle little whirlwinds that blew around a person where he was standing and that filled that person with supernatural peace. Master went and called that his ‘white magic.’ And Master also conjured powerful winds that wrought havoc. These were EF0 tornadoes, which on the tornado scale is said to have winds of 65 m.p.h. to 85 m.p.h. Master told me that this was his ‘black magic.’ I myself learned to create benign zephyrs under the mentorship of Master. And I wanted to do good deeds for others with this zephyr. There is nothing like a nice cool west wind coming upon people of Wisconsin when the weather is hot and humid in the summers. My zephyrs were beloved of the people in my hometown. And they all knew that it was I who brought the zephyrs. And then the day came when Master came up to me and told me, ‘Subject, you are a prodigy in the magic arts. Would you like to help the Master with his greatest work yet? I need your wisdom of magic to help me to attain my new goal. I cannot do it without you.’
‘I would be honored, Master,’ I told him. ‘What might it be, if I may ask?’
And Master told me, ‘I have not yet conjured a straight line wind. How would you like to help me to learn how to do that?’
‘Are not straight line winds winds that reach one hundred miles per hour?’ I asked Master.
And he said to me, ‘Indeed they are. They will be my masterpiece, I need to do that before I die. Would you be be my only partner in this new wizardry?’
Right then thoughts of power came to my heart. And I asked him, ‘Are these straight line winds what you would call “black magic?”’
‘My most effectual black magic that I ever wrought,’ he bragged.
‘I never did black magic before as your subject,’ I said to him. I did not know then that God
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calls both ‘white magic’ and ‘black magic’ sin. And thoughts of doing evil black magic corrupted me with desire for great power. And I at once said, ‘I would be honored to create straight line winds with you, Master.’
And we worked together for a year, and, behold, we both learned how to conjure straight line winds. And he and I chanted our magic spell, and, lo, our first wrought straight line wind came upon De Pere. We saw some property damage, some shingles blown off of roofs, and windows that broke.
And we felt like gods—he and I. I was now myself a great wizard. And we watched as the straight line wind left De Pere and continued its way out of our sight going south.
‘We did it!’ he said.
‘I did it!’ I said.
Then the master told me, ‘Good subject Flanders, I will need a successor.’
‘How come, Master?’ I asked him. ‘Are you going away?’
‘Even wizards grow old and die, my Flanders,’ he said. ‘I will pass from this life sometime soon. I see in you the next Wizard of De Pere.’
‘I can do that,’ I said with confidence.
‘You are my right subject to fill my shoes,’ he said.
‘I will make more straight line winds, Master,’ I promised him
‘You will make the most powerful wizard in all Wisconsin,’ he said to me.
And I felt like a great one upon the earth. Then disaster happened. It had to do with that straight line wind that I helped to make. Our first straight line wind that we conjured did get away from us. It traveled south to Oshkosh. And it wreaked its damage on the big city. And a house was blown down in its path. That house was the house where my grandmother and her sister lived. I loved them. And they loved me. And my straight line wind that got away from me took both of their lives. I knew then that I was a sinner going to Hell. And when I found out that my wizard powers killed
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Grandma and Great Aunt, I sat down and cried. I immediately repented of my life as a wizard, and I said to Master, ‘I will never become Wizard of De Pere,’ and I walked away from him, never to come back again. And the next day he died of old age. And I knew that I was lost in my sins and had no hope in this life or in the life to come. I could still do magic, but I would not. I was afraid now of my magic and of myself. And I shut myself up in my bedroom at Mom and Dad’s house. Mom did not know that the wind that killed her mom and her aunt was of my own doing. And she cried. And I hated myself. And I wished to go to Hell. And I was afraid of going to Hell. And I was afraid of dying. And I was afraid of living. I just stayed in my room all the time that I could. Then two men from the Baptist church down the road came knocking on our door. Mom and Dad let them in. That moment I was not hiding in my bedroom from the world. I was in the living room with the rest of the family. And the two church men introduced themselves as ‘Pastor the Just’ and ‘Deacon the Faithful.’ They preached the Gospel of salvation—that Jesus died for our sins and rose again the third day. And they said that Jesus had come to save us from our sins. And they said that salvation was simply by grace through faith. And they said that through Christ one could receive everlasting life. And they said that God will forgive all of all of their sins. And they said that whosoever called on the Lord Jesus Christ for salvation would be saved. And they said that praying a certain prayer would make a person born again. And they said that only born-again Christians went to Heaven. I needed to hear this message of salvation most desperately. And when the whole family bowed their heads in prayer to receive Jesus Christ as Saviour, I prayed along with them, as the Baptist pastor led us through the sinners’ prayer line by line. That’s how I became a born-again believer. I lost my wizard powers the moment I got saved. Now I have prophet powers that God can use for His glory and His honor. Later, I told Mom that it was I who had made that horrible wind that killed Grandma and Great Aunt. And Mom forgave me. We cried. But we knew that we would see those two again in Heaven when our time came for us to leave the Earth. They were believers, too.
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A subdued silence came upon Kyrie’s tongue. And she said, “I heard of the Wizard of De Pere. He was before my time. You were going to be the next?”
“Uh huh,” said Flanders the Righteous with a nod of his head.
“You gave up everything just to find Christ,” she said.
“Wizards burn in Hell, too,” he said.
“But not Christians,” she said.
“No. Not Christians. We go to Heaven,” said Flanders the Prophet of De Pere.
“Witches burn in Hell, just like wizards. Don’t we?” asked Kyrie the Black.
“Yes, Kyrie,” he said. “Unless they repent and seek Christ.”
“What happens if I repent and seek this Christ and get saved?” asked the Witch of De Pere.
“When I got born again, the Holy Spirit came into me to dwell within. And because God’s Holy Spirit came into me, the evil spirit of wizardry left me. And the Holy Ghost took away my wizard powers quite consummately. And I was never again a wizard,” he said to her.
“So you’re saying that if I become a born-again Christian that right then this Holy Spirit comes into me to dwell within, and He will take away all of my witchcraft, and I will lose my powers, and I will no longer get to be a witch,” she said.
“Yes indeed, Kyrie the Black,” said Flanders the Righteous.
“Witchcraft is not worth going to Hell for,” confessed the Witch of De Pere.
“Verily, O Kyrie,” he said.
“I want to go to Heaven,” she said.
“Amen!” said Flanders the Righteous.
“I want to get saved,” said Kyrie the Black.
“Praise Jesus!” he said.
It was time now.
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And he began to share with her the plan of salvation: “First you have to admit that you are a dirty rotten sinner who cannot save herself.”
“Who has committed more sins in De Pere than this city’s witch?” asked the Witch of De Pere.
“I am the worst sinner of them all.”
And he continued, “Second you have to believe that Jesus the Lord loved you so much that He laid down His life for you on the cross two thousand years ago and rose again to life three days later.”
“I heard that before a few times,” said Kyrie the Black. “But this time I believe it.”
And he finished up, saying, “Third you must pray and ask the Saviour of the world to save your soul.”
“I never thought to go and do something like that before, Flanders the Righteous,” said Kyrie the Black. “But now it is what I want to do the most.”
“Let us bow our heads and pray and get you saved, O Kyrie,” said the Prophet of De Pere.
Just then a dark shadow of a figure appeared along the one side of the picnic table here in the sunlight. It called forth, “Kyrie! Kyrie!”
Kyrie looked upon this shadow figure, and she cried out, “Jannes!”
And right after this, another dark shadow of a personage appeared as well, this one along the other side of the picnic table. This shadow man called forth in like, “Kyrie! Kyrie!”
And Kyrie the Black cried out to this shadow fellow, “Jambres!”
And together Jannes and Jambres commanded the woman, “Flee Jesus!”
Flanders the Righteous remembered his Bible reading of this morning alone with God at this picnic table right here. He was reading then about how Moses and Aaron had turned sticks into snakes and how Pharaoh’s magicians also went on to turn sticks into snakes and how God’s snakes did eat up Satan’s snakes. Those magician’s names way back early in the Bible? Their names were this same Jannes and this same Jambres. Those magicians clearly yet lived today, thousands of years later.
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And they took semi-spirit form now. And those magicians of Pharaoh were now demons from Hell.
And they were the power behind the formidable Witch of De Pere.
And now here they were in the twenty-first century A. D. seeking to keep their Kyrie the Black from seeking the Saviour for her salvation.
And the Prophet of De Pere took resolute action, and he said to them, “Go away, O Jannes. Go away, O Jambres. It is written in II Timothy 3:8, ‘Now as Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses, so do these also resist the truth: men of corrupt minds, reprobate concerning the faith.’”
The two magicians of Pharaoh shuddered where they stood in their shadow forms.
And the mighty Prophet Flanders ordered them, “Jannes and Jambres, in the name of Jesus, I command you to return to Hell from where you have come and come back to this world no longer and commune with Kyrie the Black no more again.”
Behold, God the Holy Spirit grabbed a hold of the two demons and opened up the cement below, and forced them down into the abysm of Hell, and closed back up the cement together as it was.
“My Jannes. Gone. My Jambres. Gone,” said Kyrie the Black.
“How do you feel, Kyrie?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I cannot remember not having my demons with me and helping me be the witch that I was.”
“It is good to not be with them anymore, O Kyrie,” said Flanders.
“It is good, Flanders,” she confessed. “Now what do I do?”
“We should get you saved now,” he said.
“Let’s get me saved now,” agreed Kyrie.
And, with no further stumbling blocks from below and from before, Kyrie the Black prayed the sinners’ prayer line by line, repeating after the prophet. This was what she prayed that got her saved:
“Dear Father in Heaven Above: I am what one could call ‘the wicked witch of the north.’ And my
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witchcraft has wrought much sin the likes of which most mortals could never amass. One sin will bring a sinner to the fires of Hell. But a witch’s sins will bring that witch unto Hell’s hottest fires. I want to change all of that. And only You can do anything about this. I ask You, Jesus, to save my dark soul from its due damnation. Nobody deserves Heaven less than I do. But I want the most of all people to go There. Nobody deserves to go to Hell more than myself. But I want the most of all people not to have to go down there. Help me to repent. Cleanse me all over from my witchcraft. And forgive me all of the sins that I have done. It is You Who went to the cross to die for me. And it is You Who arose from the grave on Easter for me. Save me now, O Saviour of the world. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
The prayer was done. Kyrie the Black was lost no more. Kyrie the Black was now saved forever.
“Well,” she said in novel feelings.
“How do you feel?” asked Flanders.
“I feel like my witchcraft has left my body,” she said.
“You have become a born-again believer,” said Flanders.
“It feels good to be born again,” said Kyrie.
“Hallelujah!” he said.
“I’m finally happy,” she said.
“Alleluia!” he said.
“There is yet one last thing that I need to do now that I am a born-again Christian, Flanders,” said Kyrie the Black.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Wait and see how great things the Lord Jesus is doing with me now,” said Kyrie.
And he waited to see.
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Behold, Kyrie the Black took off her black witch hat, stood up, looked out into the Fox River behind him and before her, and did walk up to the metal railing at the edge of the cement embankment.
And she said, “Hereby, Lord, I repent of my life as a witch.” And she held out her witch hat over the railing, above the river, and then she let it go from her fingers. And she saw it fall down upon the flowing waters. It remained upon the surface for a little while. And the current brought it downstream.
And soon it sank down into the river’s depths.
And she said, “There, Flanders. My black witch hat gone. Just like my witchcraft.”
And she hugged him and said to him, “Thank you for caring for my soul, Flanders the Righteous.” Kyrie began to look comely to him now once again, even as a mortal.
And he said, “Thank you for letting me lead you to salvation, Kyrie.”
“You make a great Prophet of De Pere,” praised Kyrie. Kyrie would truly make a great girlfriend now, he began thinking.
“And I would bet that in time you will make a great Prophetess of De Pere,” said Flanders the Righteous.
“Me a prophetess?” she asked, flattered. Kyrie was God’s answer to his prayers. He knew it. He could tell. This converted witch was finally his “Yes,” from God.
“With God all things are possible,” he said.
‘With God nothing is impossible,” she said.
“Amen,” he said.
“Amen,” she said.
He had to ask her out. God was telling him to. God wanted him to. God inspired him to.
Then he asked her, “Kyrie, I am wondering about something now.”
“What is it, handsome Flanders?” asked Kyrie.
“I was wondering if this is still our first date,” he said.
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“It is, if tomorrow is still our rendezvous, Flanders,” she said in affection.
Behold, his very first girlfriend!
He then called upon God to dress her up in her black prom dress once again. And Kyrie suddenly found herself back in her black prom gown.
“Do you like it, girlfriend?” he asked.
“Oh, I do, Flanders! I do!” she exclaimed. She ran her one hand down her one sleek black sleeve. Then she ran her other hand down her other sleek black sleeve. “Thank you. Thank you, Flanders,” she said in sincere gratitude.
He then declared, “This day has a Fable come upon me and brought my life into a Fabled Times.”
“What does that mean, boyfriend?” asked Kyrie.
“It’s a secret, Kyrie,” he teased her.
“Don’t you know that now that I am no longer a witch, that I can’t read minds anymore?” she said in flirt and in truth.
In coquetry he said to her, “’The secret things belong unto the Lord our God:…’ Deuteronomy 29:29, fair woman.”
“Why, you prophet you,” answered fair young Kyrie. And they laughed merrily together in the Lord.
Thus the beginning of their lives as boyfriend-and-girlfriend-in-Christ.
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