Unfortunately, him using the Bible to argue with me only turns me on. We made love, but after, I wore him down. First, I set a wedding date, then used the Bible as leverage.
“Love requires faith, Jack. ‘There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear,’ 1 John 4:18.”
That, he accepted. Now, I am near my delivery date, and we’ll get married next month.
“Excited to be a wife?” Blake asks, and God bless him for having no ill will... considering our failed engagement.
“Yes, I am very excited!” I reply. More careful and lower, I add, “Is my dad coming tonight?”
He shrugs, his expression sullen. “You know how your father is. I pray he’ll step away from the megachurch and join us as his true self.”
A loving and protective man, but also, a deeply ashamed homosexual who lives in a marriage of convenience.
“Me, too,” I murmur.
It’s a shame. Nobody is perfect, but my parents continue their charade. Worse, my mother will not speak to me. And neither of my parents approve of Jack. He isn’t Christian to them — not a saved soul. Loving Jack is not the easier path, but it is the right one for me. The only one.
Just then, the choir ends the song. Jack gives me a kiss, then I step onto the stage with Blake. We speak for fifteen minutes. The majority of the time is for Jack, our special guest preacher.
He agreed to appear on Christmas Eve and Easter. Otherwise, he sits in the front row on Sundays. I insisted he didn’t have to attend, but he does to support me. It warms my heart more than he knows.
After service, I always stand by his side, proudly, while I talk with church members.
When he preaches, though, I think deep down, he does that for himself. Maybe to feel closer to his mom. Maybe to thank God in a way that is unique to his gifts. Twice a year isn’t a lot, but when he does, it is a joy for me.
He begins his sermon, and his voice carries like a ballad that sends shivers down my spine. He is fearless and moves with purpose and passion, weaving God’s words with his own struggles. As he closes his testimony, he glances my way to make sure I am paying attention. Something in me knows, this is for me as much as the congregation.
“I used to think hope was dangerous. Then, I realized, I wasn’t afraid of hope. I was afraid of love. The more you love, the more you lose. After my parents’ death, I was godless. I wanted to walk the earth with as little love as I could bear. Then I’d never grieve another person.
“One day, Morgan Leigh Montgomery walked into my life and taught me how to believe again. She sacrificed enormous wealth, status, and damaged her relationship with her family. Loving me cost her everything.”
He glances at me offstage. His gaze, so full of atonement and longing, lingers in mine. My heart stumbles and skips a beat. Only he makes my body react this way.
Gently, he smirks, then studies the crowd.
“Hell, I led her to sin. Now we’ll have a child before marriage. But was that God's plan all along? Corinthians 7:9 says, ‘For it is better to marry than to burn with passion.’ Yet, that fire was fueled by the love God put into our hearts. We all have the capacity to love, but it is our free will that determines who we give it to.
“Morgan gives her heart to me each day. She made it impossible not to return the very thing I didn’t want to sacrifice — the only thing I had to give — my love. Next month, I will marryher. A woman who fell from grace for a broken soul. Our journey wasn't easy, but I like to believe, it was God's plan.”
He pauses, and for a moment, I see what others don’t. It’s the inkling of the nonbeliever that wrestles within him. His faith ebbs and flows. Some days, it’s easy for him to believe, andothers, it simply isn’t.
And I’m okay with that. It’s his own path to walk. I let him lean on me when he needs it, and he reciprocates when it’s my turn.
He draws in a deep breath, perhaps having found the believer within that finds sanctuary and strength in a higher power.
“I look at Genesis 2:18 as how we can live better lives. God says, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.’ I believe by man, he meant mankind. All beings need a helper. I needed one. I found that in Morgan.
“I have other helpers, though. My brothers helped me get out of bed every morning in my darkest hours. Julie helped me when I lost everything. And a community helped me when I sat behind bars. And maybe God helped me, despite my efforts to deny his existence. It’s human to question, and sometimes I still do. Especially when I’m sad or frustrated. However, those are the times I find peace in knowing I am not alone.Youare not alone — God can be your helper, too.
“This Christmas Eve, reflect on God’s sacrifice. Reflect on your own. If you have love to give, give it. If you feel alone, remember, there is always a helper.” He points to the ceiling. “I was never alone, and neither are you.”
The audience claps, and I join him, giving him a warm embrace. Blake takes over, leading a prayer. The choir closes.
It’s a lovely, holy evening.
I catch Ingrid snap photos from beside the stage.
“These will lookgreat,” she gushes.
