Hidden Pearl Read Online Free PDF

try to entrap people.” He smiled benignly. “This is about the Lord’s work, not mine.”
    She smiled and nodded, yielding him the point. "How large is your ministry?" she asked, choosing the word carefully.
    "As wide as the world," he said, throwing his arms wide. "I consider everyone to be my ministry, to be in need of the wisdom God has given to me."
    "Very biblical."
    "The Bible is God's book, but He still speaks to men. Do you believe that?"
    She considered a moment. "Possibly although in different ways."
    His smile seemed genuine. "Possibly? You do or you do not. To doubt is to disbelieve”
    “You are quite rigid.”
    “That is a way to avoid facing the reality of God. We must accept the Lord’s direction for today. If we broaden meanings enough, they tend to lose value. Do you agree?"
    "I will have to think about that." She realized she would not be able to debate this man. He was a master at the art, would most likely turn everything she said against her. "Do you believe God gives you messages for others?" she asked, cutting to the quick of it.
    He laughed and bent to pour their tea. Was the laugh real or a manipulation? Nothing about him was putting her at ease.
    “You are indeed a delight, fair lady.” He handed her a cup. "Are you yourself a believer?" he asked, his gaze steady.
    "In my own way," she said.
    "How can there be your own way?"
    "I believe in a spiritual reality. I don’t necessarily believe it all comes through a religion as such... or a guru, but I do feel there is something beyond us in this world."
    "Ah, experience, sometimes a good teacher. Unless it's the wrong experience or we put the wrong interpretation on it. That's why God sends prophets into the world, to help us interpret our experiences, to help us fully understand the Word of God."
    “You are such a prophet?” She took a sip of the tea. “It’s very good.”
    “A prophet must be declared so by others, don’t you think?” His smile was saintly, beatific, and she didn't like it. She suddenly wanted this project over with, wanted away from this man. S.T. Taggert with his rough edges, his reluctance to let her work with him, had filled her with reassurance, with a feeling of innate goodness. This obviously self-anointed prophet left her with none of those feelings. She wished she'd never agreed to the assignment, but she always finished what she began.
    She picked her camera from its bag. "I usually attain the best results by following around a subject... that is wherever it's okay. In your case, I'd like to do some photographs of you with the people in your church, certainly some of you preaching."
    Soul smiled. "I prefer to call what I do teaching. It isn't traditional preaching the way you might expect it to be."
    "All the more reason to capture it all on film," Christine said. She realized her hands were shaky as she took off the lens cap. "Would you mind my taking some of you at your desk?" she asked.
    "Not at all." His smile broadened. "How could I turn down any request from such a lovely woman? Or did I just open myself up to a risk I hadn't calculated?"
    Christine doubted there were many risks this man didn't calculate to the last detail, but she managed another smile. Just take the pictures and get out.
     
    #
     
    S.T. looked into the apartment manager's eyes, trying to decide why the man was lying. What was behind his fear?
    "She lived here a year," the man said, rubbing his broad belly with a beefy hand. "She was never hardly here though."
    "Where did she work?"
    "Look, I manage their apartments.  I don’t baby-sit them. They pay their rent and that’s all I ask. Up until the last, she was always on time."
    "Yet you noticed she wasn't here that much."
    The manager shrugged. "Easy to notice. She came in at the last just to pay me. Apartment never had no lights on."
    "Then she moved out."
    "I didn't say that. She just quit paying."
    "Where's her stuff?"
    "How do I know you're her brother?" the man asked, suddenly