That catches my attention.
“You—what? You do?”
He reaches over and places a tanned, wrinkled hand on my shoulder. Looking deep into my eyes, he says, “I really do.”
Just hearing those words breaks something inside me that I didn’t know was built. I’ve known friendship love. I’ve known romantic love. I’ve even briefly known fatherly love, though I think I forgot about it until this very moment.
Didn’t know how much I needed it…
“Thank you, Brother Johnny,” I say, fighting not to cry. What’s with me? Only cried twice in my life but here I am, an absolute emotional wreck lately.The way I cried over Lucy…
“And because I love you like a son, I feel it is within my rights to talk to you like one, if you’ll allow me. I drove all this way, after all.”
I’m not quite sure I want to hear what he has to say since it obviously involves Lucy. I make a small mental note to sneak attack my brother-in-law and friend when I go back to Dasher Valley.
“Go ahead.”
He doesn’t skip a beat. “Stop running from the Lord, Stone. From what the guys told me, and after I prayed over what to tell you, it sounds like the issue runs deeper than you not wanting to open yourself up completely to Lucy. You can’t love her well because you aren’t allowing yourself to experience and know the love of your heavenly Father.”
Dumbfounded and at a loss for words, I do the only thing I can do: shut up and keep listening. Because for some reason, I want to. I think—I know—it’s what I’ve been running from.
“What’s blocking you, Stone? You’re a smart man. A kind and generous man. So why are you afraid to not only commit to Lucy but also to the Lord? And don’t give me crap about it being because of Lacey.”
“Pastor, you just said the word ‘crap,’ you know?” I ask with nervous laughter.
He only raises his bushy eyebrows, waiting for me to answer him.
I clasp my hands together and lean onto my knees, thinking. “I–I don’t know. Lacey is the only thing that comes to mind. Being rejected by her hurt a lot. It made me feel like I would never be enough for any woman. If the one who knew me at my deepest level didn’t accept me, then who else will?”
“I’m not saying she doesn’t play a role. She does. But the problem runs deeper than that. It runs into acceptance. What else?”
A smidge of anger flares, and I stand to my feet. “If you know what the problem is, then why keep it from me? Just tell me already instead of making me read your mind.”
Brother Johnny blinks, a frown forming on his face.
After a beat, I relax. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to come out as rude. But I’m at a loss—”and emotionally unstable at the moment“—though I’m sure it has something to do with running from the Lord or something like that.”
“Bingo.” He takes a deep breath and motions for me to sit again. I do, taking a sip of my sweet tea, relishing in the smooth taste. “From where I’m sitting, it looks to me like your problem is your lack of relationship with Christ. I have no doubt you’re a Christian, but you’ve run far away. I think, and you can correct me if I’m wrong, but I thinkyou blame God for taking your father away at such a young age. I think you blame God for giving your mother Rheumatoid Arthritis. I think you blame God for Lacey saying no to you when you proposed to her. I think you believe He’s at fault for your inability to commit and love because everyone you do love somehow leaves or is punished.”
I sit in stunned silence, unable to look away from him. All the emotions I haven’t been able to name or process bubble to the surface and overwhelm me in my already fragile state.That’s exactly what’s going on with me… How could I not see that? Lucy and her sadness and her fears were practically a mirror to me, her grief reflecting my own.
I break down as raw guilt over my actions, sorrow over my life, consumes me.
As Brother Johnny holds me, I weep. He tells me to let it all out as he pats my back. He prays over me, and all at once, I know this is just the beginning of a long healing journey back to where I belong—in fellowship with Christ. Walking with Him. Letting Him lead so I can one day lead and love a woman correctly and fully.
I tell Brother Johnny what happened with Lucy three days ago.
“That’s a tough one.” He brings his fingers to his chin, deep in thought. “Lucy’s an author, right? Words are important to her, and outside of your actions, your words have hurt her. Do you think you can use your words to help her?”
I think through the request as my eyes burn and ache from crying so much. My brain is mush at the moment, but I nod. “I think I can. I’ve read all her stories. I know what she likes. What she wants her leading men to say.”
“Careful there, son. Don’t say what you think she wants to hear. Speak from your heart. Be sure to take it to God first.”
“Right.”
“You know I’m a licensed Biblical counselor, don’t you?”
I nod, standing to go fill up a glass of water.
