Todestrieb
Watching Fr. Carl's back as he busies himself with the tea kettle, you muse that he would have made an excellent housewife. Fastidiously, he pours steaming water into two plain mugs.
"What kind of tea did you say you wanted, Anna?"
"Anything is fine. Herbal, I guess."
"Chamomile all right?"
"Sure."
He sits down across from you. The little rectory kitchen is not much bigger than a confessional, has the same feeling of entrapment. Fr. Carl smiles benignly at you.
"I can't begin to imagine how today must have been for you. Please know that I am always here for you. Always."
He takes your hand in his. You feel a shock of warmth shoot through your body, followed by an equal measure of guilt. You want to cover your bare legs.
"I wasn't really going anywhere specificÂ…" you begin.
"I know. That's why I wanted you to come inside. You are very fragile. Extremely fragile." He grips your hand suddenly and you could swear you see tears in his eyes. "You know, I have always known that there was something special about you. You are so beautiful inside and out. I know the Lord has chosen you for great things, and He makes you suffer now because He wants to purify you, to bring you even closer to Him."
"Uh huh." Your vision is beginning to blur over your tea. You want to go home, but Father Carl continues unhindered.
"Going through a dark night as you are now is a perfect time for discernment. I just know that you will discover something amazing. I feel the Holy Spirit move so strongly in me whenever I see you. I would like to be be your guide if you would allow me. I want to be here to serve you and to bring you closer to Christ."
"I was going out to sin," you blurt out, staring down at your hint of a midriff.
"To sin? I can't believe that. I put you on a pedestal, Anna. I know I shouldn't, but I do. I know you have come to me for confession before, but they were venial little things. I don't believe there is any bad in your heart at all."
He reaches his other hand across the table, sandwiching your now sweaty hand between his two.
You have the impression that a decision is being made for you. Why does he think you're a saint? Does he have any idea of the evil in the family you come from? Why is he putting all of this on you, on this day of all days? Gazing measuredly into his eyes, you wonder what he looks like naked. You feel both uneasy and excited, and very, very confused.
"What kind of tea did you say you wanted, Anna?"
"Anything is fine. Herbal, I guess."
"Chamomile all right?"
"Sure."
He sits down across from you. The little rectory kitchen is not much bigger than a confessional, has the same feeling of entrapment. Fr. Carl smiles benignly at you.
"I can't begin to imagine how today must have been for you. Please know that I am always here for you. Always."
He takes your hand in his. You feel a shock of warmth shoot through your body, followed by an equal measure of guilt. You want to cover your bare legs.
"I wasn't really going anywhere specificÂ…" you begin.
"I know. That's why I wanted you to come inside. You are very fragile. Extremely fragile." He grips your hand suddenly and you could swear you see tears in his eyes. "You know, I have always known that there was something special about you. You are so beautiful inside and out. I know the Lord has chosen you for great things, and He makes you suffer now because He wants to purify you, to bring you even closer to Him."
"Uh huh." Your vision is beginning to blur over your tea. You want to go home, but Father Carl continues unhindered.
"Going through a dark night as you are now is a perfect time for discernment. I just know that you will discover something amazing. I feel the Holy Spirit move so strongly in me whenever I see you. I would like to be be your guide if you would allow me. I want to be here to serve you and to bring you closer to Christ."
"I was going out to sin," you blurt out, staring down at your hint of a midriff.
"To sin? I can't believe that. I put you on a pedestal, Anna. I know I shouldn't, but I do. I know you have come to me for confession before, but they were venial little things. I don't believe there is any bad in your heart at all."
He reaches his other hand across the table, sandwiching your now sweaty hand between his two.
You have the impression that a decision is being made for you. Why does he think you're a saint? Does he have any idea of the evil in the family you come from? Why is he putting all of this on you, on this day of all days? Gazing measuredly into his eyes, you wonder what he looks like naked. You feel both uneasy and excited, and very, very confused.