The story of one teenager's decision to…

"Stay In The Castle"

By Pastor Jerry Ross

Introduction

            "I know what is right, and I want to please the Lord.  But I have feelings too!"

            I looked down into the tear-brimmed eyes of a sixteen-year-old Mexican girl named Lidia.  We stood on the steps leading up to her parent's apartment, one of six in a dull, brick building on a block of dull, brick buildings; just one block of many endless such blocks that created the "Little Mexico" district of Chicago.  The concrete, asphalt, and bricks had absorbed to capacity the sun's power and now simply joined it in bombarding us with choking, intense heat.  This afternoon the city was windless.  I was tired from having spent the day visiting my "bus kids", the children, teens, and families that rode First Baptist Church Bus 122.

            I had first met Lidia a year and a half earlier when I became the Bus Captain of Route 122.  She was fourteen then, a semi-faithful Sunday morning rider with a sweet smile and atrocious English.  Shy and quick to laugh, she stole the heart of my wife and I.  We adopted her, unofficially, as our little sister, or more honestly, the child we were yet to have.  In the next twelve months, we encouraged her to read through the Bible and rejoiced at the change it made in her.  Most Saturday evenings during that year found me at her dining room table, tutoring her through Algebra, working to improve her English (and her my Spanish), or helping her cope with the challenges that come with being a teenager.  Her faith in God grew, and I knew that God was preparing her for something special.

            During those short, wonderful visits, she often dreamed out loud of becoming a missionary to her homeland.  She spoke of attending Bible college and of someday returning to the land she had left as a young girl.  She spoke of her lost family members still in Mexico whom, she was sure, would be saved, if she was given a chance to share the gospel with them.  I dreamed with her and prayed she would someday be allowed to go.

            At the end of those twelve months her parents moved her just five blocks west but outside the boundaries of Route 122.  We were saddened to lose her, but were confident that her new Bus Captain, Rich Stults, would faithfully shepherd her.  At his invitation, we still tried to visit her when possible and saw her on Sundays at church.

            A few months later, Brother Rich stopped me after the bus meeting on a Saturday morning and asked me to visit Lidia. 

            "Is something wrong?"

            "I'm not sure.  Something about her is different.  Something is bothering her, and I thought you might be able to find out what."

            Later that summer afternoon I walked the four blocks to her home and knocked on her apartment door.  She was home baby-sitting her younger brother, Tony.  He was twelve years old and had lived his life in a wheel chair, having never walked or spoken.  Wheeling him to the front window of their apartment so that she could watch him and he us, she then joined me on the front steps.

            "How is everything?"

            "All right, I guess."  she answered, her eyes averting mine.

            The "I guess" in teenage talk means "something is wrong, but I'm not sure I want to talk to you about it."  The challenge then is to find out what.  So I went down the list.

            "How is everything with your parents?"

            "Fine."

            "And your sisters?"

            "Ok."

            "Is Tony all right?"

            "Yes sir." Very polite.

            "Are there problems with the gangs?"  Little Mexico was the territory of the Latin Kings street gang, and there was constant pressure on the teen-agers to join.  Up to this time they had left her alone, branding her as a "Jesus girl."

            "No sir."

            "Lidia, look at me."

            Her eyes met mine.

            "I've known you too long not to know when something is bothering you.  We've always been able to talk about everything.  Is it something you need to talk to me about?  If not, I'll bring Miss Sheryl…"

            "It's a boy," she interrupted, her eyes again on the ground.

            I half smiled to myself.  Of course, dummy, she's sixteen now.

            "Tell me about him."

            Slowly at first, and then in a rush, she explained.  A few months ago she had gotten a job at a small store at the end of the block.  A young man had begun to hang around and talk to her.  He was really nice - and funny.  She really liked him; maybe even loved him.

            Warning bells began to go off in my mind.  I began to ask "preacher questions."

            "Does he go to church?"

            "Sometimes."

            "Is he saved?"

            "I don't know."

            "Well then, what are you thinking?"

            Silence.

            Then I began to "preach."  After all, it's very cut and dried.  Saved people are not supposed to date unsaved people, let alone marry them.  What about being a missionary?  What about the will of God?  Sometimes goes to church?  He probably belongs to the Latin Kings.  What was she thinking?

            And then the statement that cut straight through all my "pat" answers.

            "Brother Jerry, I know what is right, and I want to please the Lord, but I have feelings too!"

            This wasn't just a high school crush.  This was a crossroad.  She was trying to think, but it's hard when you're feeling so much.

            I had no idea what to say to her.  I mumbled some excuse to go, secured a promise that she wouldn't do anything foolish, and asked her to let me think and pray about it for a week.

            Of course, she agreed.  I think she wanted an answer that would help her to do what was right.  This was a good kid.

            I walked the four blocks back to my route, waited for my ride, and prayed.  I asked the Lord for the right words to say - words that would not sound like an adult who had forgotten what it was like to be sixteen.  For a week I prayed, and thought, and fasted.  The thought of Lidia falling in love and marrying someone who would take her from God's perfect will was almost unbearable.

            The following Saturday I again made my way to her home, praying that what I would tell her would make a difference.  Her mother greeted me at the door and invited me to sit at the dining room table.  Soon Lidia arrived, and we were served fresh lemonade.  Her mother busied herself and left me alone to talk to her - to tell her a not-so-make-believe story - to ask her to stay in the castle.

Stay in the Castle

Once upon a time there was a princess that lived in a beautiful palace overlooking a simple but worldly village.  She lived in the castle with her Father, the King, and a handful of faithful servants.  Her Father doted over her, supplying her every need and most all of her wants.  Over the years, she blossomed into a beautiful teenage girl, quick-witted, full of laughter, and always obedient - but increasingly lonely.

            Often, late at night, she would gaze from the window of her room, high in the castle wall, watching the people far away in the streets below.  She would lean towards the gaiety, straining past the sounds of music and laughter, to try and pick out the words of the young people.  No sad, lonely sounds ever reached her ears, and she began to believe that they must be the happiest people in the kingdom.

            "Father?" she asked one evening as they worked together on what he called her preparation.  "Do you think that perhaps I might one evening be allowed to attend one of the festivals at the village?  Perhaps just for a short time?"

            The old, but wise King laid aside the Book of Lessons and looked upon his daughter with compassion and concern.

            "My child, the village below is a worldly place full of sad people.  The sound of merriment that you sometimes hear is their attempt to drown out the emptiness and despair of their lives.  It is best that you stay in the castle."

            Though she loved her Father, it was not the answer she wished.

            "But Father, how will I ever meet…I mean…someday I would like to…Oh Father, you are so good to me, and I do so love it here, but at times I get so lonely!"

            The King sat back in his chair, his eyes suddenly seeing his daughter not as the little girl she would always be to him, but as the young lady she was becoming.  He then decided.

            "It is time that I tell you."

            "Tell me what, Father?"

            Standing to his feet, he walked to a window overlooking the countryside to the East.  His eyes fastened onto the King's Highway, a straight road that passed high above the village and led to the castle gate.

            "Shortly after you were born, I foresaw the day when you would need someone special - someone with whom to spend your life.  I set out to search, to visit other castles in the Kingdom; to find a prince for you.  Not just anyone, but that special someone."

            The King turned to look at his Princess, her eyes full of wonderment.

            "I have met him.  I know who he is."

            "Oh, Father, where does he live?  When do I get to meet him?"

            "He lives far away, but not so far, in a castle not unlike this one.  He, too, is being prepared as you are - both for the other.  Come stand beside me, my child."

            She walked to where her Father stood by the window.

            "See there?  That's the King's Highway.  When the time is right and not before, he will come on a white steed.  You will know him."

            Then taking her hands into his, he looked into her tear-brimmed eyes.

            "Princess.   Never forget you are a child of the King.  You are Royalty.  The one being prepared for you is also of Royal Descent.  Be patient.  Prepare.   And stay in the castle."

            She hugged the King, jumping into his arms, happy now and determined to prepare and wait.  For many months, at night, she looked out her bedroom window, past the village and its sounds to the Highway above, watching and dreaming of the one who would someday come.

♦

A year passed.  Then another.  The dream became harder to envision, and the night sounds of laughter and glee from the village below again began working their way slowly into her thoughts.  It became harder to concentrate on her preparation, harder to be patient.

            One morning while taking her breakfast in the Royal Kitchen, a knock was heard at the back door, the door where deliveries were made from the village below.  She waited for one of her Father's servants to answer but when none immediately did, she decided to answer it herself.

            "Hello," said the young deliveryman as he pulled off his crumbled hat and bowed.  (It was an exaggerated bow, very low and lasting, followed by a winsome smile.)  She couldn't help but laugh.

            "Delivery for his Royal Highness, the King," he proclaimed with just the slightest shade of irreverence.  "And my, but I must say that he has hired some lovely kitchen help, a great improvement indeed!"

            "Why, thank you, but I'm not the kitchen help," she replied blushing.  "I'm the King's daughter."

            "I had heard that he had a daughter.  But I was never told how beautiful she was!  Do you live here all alone with your Father?"

            "For now," she replied, thinking briefly of the now fading story her Father had told her.

            He carried the supplies past her into the kitchen. "You ought to come down to the village some night.  The lads would be taken with you!  Lots of friends your age and wonderful parties."

            "Tell me about the village."

            For an hour they talked - talked and laughed.  Every story of the village life seemed so full of humor and excitement!  He acted out the stories he told and sang a village favorite, dancing merrily to the tune.  She could not remember ever laughing so much and found herself resenting her Father for not allowing her to take part.

            "You must come to the village this very night.  The Fall Festival begins and it is the best of the year."

            She glanced awkwardly at the kitchen door.  "I don't believe my Father would allow me to attend."

            "Then sneak out after dark.  I will meet you at the bridge this side of the village.  You'll have a great time!"

            "Perhaps."  She hesitated.  "But I can't promise."

            "I'll meet you there," he said, then shut the door and was gone before she could answer.

            That evening, she sat with her Father in the Great Room, he reading aloud from the Book of Lessons, and she pretending to be listening.  In reality, she was measuring the diminishing light from the setting sun.  The distant music began to loft up from the festival below, her imagination going skyward with it.  It took several moments before she realized that her Father had stopped reading.

            "You seem far away tonight."

            She straightened her dress nervously, "No, just tired I think.  Perhaps I should go to bed early."

            "Darling…"

            "Really, Father, I'm fine," she said, quickly getting to her feet.  "Good night," she said back over her shoulder as she scampered up the stairs.

            Two hours later, when it was believed that all in the castle were sleeping, a lithe, young figure stole out the kitchen door and disappeared into the night.

♦

 Three months later, a slightly older but much changed Princess marched into the Great Room to announce to her Father the decision she had made on the previous night.  Her midnight visits had increased in frequency since that first visit a life time ago.  The village nightlife was more exciting than she ever dared imagine.  The people, though sometimes crude, laughed and sang and danced and chased each night into dawn.  They were living!  Living now!  Not just waiting for a dream that might never come true.

            The young man that had met her that first night had treated her, well, like royalty!  In a hundred ways he had made her feel special.  Then last night, the greatest of all nights of her life, he had proposed to her.  She clutched the ring he had slipped onto her finger tightly in her palm, drawing courage from the pain it produced.

            "Father, I have something to tell you."

            He sat in his chair, the Book of Lessons on his lap, its pages freshly stained with his tears.  She almost lost her resolve.

            "I've met a young man.  I know I shouldn't have gone without your permission but…anyway, we are going to be married - right away!"

            The King shut the Book and stared out towards the Highway.  "I watched you go each night, wishing you back."  Then turning His eyes to her and through her, "This castle has never been a prison.  This castle is a decision.  I want you to know that if you leave here, things will never be the same again.  My love for you will never change, but everything - everything - else will."

            She wavered for a moment but only a moment, her head filled now with the village ideas.

            "I know that this is what is right for me.  He may not be Royalty but I love him."  And with that she left the castle.

♦

     she woke with the dawn, not knowing that it was a year to the day since her
departure.  Her back hurt.  "Just part of being in your last month of pregnancy," the village women had told her.  Rising with difficulty, her husband muttered something in his half-drunken state.  He had come home only hours before and they had argued - again.  Oh well, after the baby is born maybe things will get better.

            There was still a house to clean and chores to do.  Picking up a worn, straw broom, she walked outside to sweep the front porch.  Their house was small.  It sat at the edge of town, not far from the bridge where he had waited for her that first night.  Her eyes followed the path up to her Father's Castle.  The King had still found little ways to show her that he had not forgotten her, that she was still loved.  But what he had said was now true.  Nothing was the same.

            Her eyes wandered to the East to spend a few minutes watching the sun rise, a simple pleasure that she shared alone each morning.  Its rays almost blinded her, distorted the trees and hills beyond.  Squinting against its brightness, she returned to the job at hand, first glancing absently up the High Road.

            Her heart seemed to stop, gripped as if by a strong hand.  The broom quivered in her grasp.  Far down the road came a white horse, its rider sitting straight and tall.  He seemed to be coming straight out of the sun.  The horse quickened its pace as it neared the castle, sensing the excitement of its master.  Her heart began to beat again, now loud and in rhythm to the pounding hoofs.  He reigned his mount to a stop outside the castle's front gate.  She could not make out his features but his stance spoke of honor and character.  He knocked on the front door, her front door not that long ago.  The King stepped out to greet him and she watched as they conversed; she watched as the King spoke with his hands and then pointed toward the village.  Involuntarily, she took a step back into the shadow of the porch.

            The noble Prince listened carefully, his strong shoulders sagging in disappointment and sadness.  Shaking the King's hand and receiving from him a consoling hug, he mounted his horse.  He looked toward her village home, his eyes finding her in the shadow.  For a moment they both stared.  Then, pointing his mount back toward the sun, he rode away into its brightness.

            She felt the hot tears on her arms and hands long before it occurred to her that she was crying.  Nothing, she thought, will ever be the same.

♦

 
Epilogue

            I left the ghetto apartment, not knowing whether I had helped or not.  Teenagers have a way of leaving you wondering.  A week later Lidia found me outside the church on a Sunday morning.  Her old smile was back.

            "Thanks, Brother Jerry," she said as she pushed a note into my hand and then walked away. 

            After I found my seat in the church auditorium, I unfolded the paper and read with joy the simple message it contained.

            "Brother Jerry,

                        I've decided to stay in the castle.

                                                                                    Lidia

            Six years later, I receive an invitation in my mailbox.  My wife and I now live in a small town that in no way resembles Chicago.  I am into the third year of my first pastorate.  I break the seal to find that we are being invited to a wedding.  It seems Lidia has met a young man in Bible College.  It seems that he is planning on being a missionary to Mexico.  It seems that they are deeply in love.  It seems perfect.

            And it seems it was wise to stay in the castle.

Author's Note - July, 1998

On December 20, 1991, I attended the wedding of Mike and Lidia Lemma.  Mike graduated from Bible College in 1991, and Lidia graduated in 1995.  They finished their missionary deputation in June of 1998 and by the time this book is in print, another of Lidia's dreams will be a reality.  She and her husband will be serving the Lord as missionaries to Mexico.  The Princess will have gone home.

At this time, God has blessed them with two children: Stephen Michael and Abigail Grace.

Author's Note - January, 2001

Lidia and Mike Lemma have now been on the mission field for over two years.  On the 22^nd of August, 1999, they founded the Independent Baptist Church in Zacatecas, Mexico.  That first Sunday they had 37 people attend the services.  On their first year anniversary, God allowed them to have 209 in attendance.  Ninety of those who came that day received Jesus Christ as their personal Saviour.  Praise the Lord!

            Lidia has returned more than once to visit the village where she was born.  She was able to lead her 90-year old great aunt to the Lord and also her cousin's two children.  Since arriving on the mission field, she and her husband have been instrumental in seeing over 1500 people come to Christ.

            If this story has been a blessing to you, please send Lidia a note of encouragement, and if the Lord would so lead you a love gift for the work there.  Below is their stateside address:

Mike & Lidia Lemma

P.O. Box 440108

Larado, Texas 78044

Jerry Ross is the Assistant Pastor & Youth Director at the Blessed Hope Baptist Church in Jasonville, Indiana. 

To obtain printed copies of "Stay In The Castle" please contact:

Ó1998 Ultimate Goal Publications

Ultimate Goal Publications

4969 W. Co. Rd. 1200 S.

Jasonville, IN 47438

(812) 665-4375

Other Helpful Resources from the Author

7 Royal Laws of Courtship by Jerry L. Ross, $2.50

Every teenager dreams of one day being happily married.  However, in today's society, very few are realizing that dream.  From the author of Stay In The Castle comes a unique booklet outlining the 7 Royal Laws of Courtship, seven Biblical principles that will make their dreams come true!

Is Your Youth Group Dead or Alive? by Jerry L. Ross  $2.50

Does your youth group lack fire, excitement and enthusiasm?  This 67-page booklet contains God's secret formula for turning a bunch of "dry bones" into a vibrant, Christian army!

Grace Will Lead Me Home by Ron Allen with Jerry L. Ross  $2.50

This 66-page booklet contains captivating accounts of Ron Allen's Vietnam experiences and his amazing salvation testimony.  A great tool to reach veterans and their families for Christ.

Stay In the Castle  by Jerry L. Ross   $2.50

The bestselling booklet that has inspired teenagers across the country and around the world to wait for God's perfect will in a marriage partner.  (available in English, Spanish, & German)

 Stay In The Castle - 3 Act Play by Jerry L. Ross   $15.00

This play adaptation of the popular booklet will have a lasting impact on your church!

Cast: 5 roles, Length: 30 min., Includes set of 6 scripts, set design and costume ideas.

The Teenage Years of Jesus Christ by Jerry L. Ross, 124 pgs.   $5.95

Published by the Sword of the Lord Publications

Your Youth Group Can Put On A Parent Appreciation Night!  $15.00

A great activity that is fun and also encourages your teens to "honor thy father and mother."

Includes 3 fully scripted programs…by Jerry L. Ross

Shipping & Handling:  $1.50 for one item, $.50 for each additional item.

Maximum postage $5.00, except for very large orders or rush orders.

Prices may change without notice.  Payable in U.S. funds only.

To place an order, please call or write:

Ultimate Goal Publications

4969 W. Co. Rd. 1200 S.

Jasonville, IN 47438

(812) 665-4375