“I’m sorry to stop by unannounced,” he tells me, “but it’s been hard to find a moment with you and Josh after church.”
That might be because ever since Josh told me Pastor Todd wanted to meet with us, we’ve been hightailing out of church right after the blessing. We’ve even made excuses to the kids—the animals, the garden, Grandpa’s tired, I’m tired—but I’m not sure they were fooled. Judging by his expression, I don’t think Pastor Todd was, either.
“Sorry about that,” I say, and decide not to offer any lame excuses.
Pastor Todd smiles at me with far too much understanding.
“Do you mind if we talk a little now?” he asks.
I look around the room a little wildly, as if I’m expecting someone else to appear.
“Well, Josh’s not here…” I begin falteringly.
“True,” he agrees seriously. I know he has a policy as a married man never to meet alone with a woman in a private place, and I appreciate that, but right now it’s just him and me, minus the goose.
“How about we chat out on the porch?” he suggests. “Just for a few minutes, and then we can find a time later for the three of us to talk together?”
There’s nothing I can say but yes.
I insist on offering lemonade, and Pastor Todd graciously accepts it, and soon we are seated on the rocking chairs on the porch, glasses in hand. I feel like I’m bracing myself for some kind of spiritual interrogation.
The pastor must see that, because he chuckles softly and says, “This isn’t meant to be scary, Abby. It’s really just a check-in, to see how y’all are doing, and how the church can serve you better.”
“Sorry.” I can’t help but cringe at how obvious my alarm must have been. “Josh and I… we’re still pretty new to the whole church thing. I grew up going to church,” I add hastily, not wanting to cast implicit aspersions on my upbringing, “and my dad is a real… believer.” I cringe again; I don’t even know why. “But Josh and me… we’re…” I shrug helplessly.
“You’ve been going to Grace Fellowship for over a year,” Pastor Todd points out gently.
“Yes.” I nod almost maniacally. “Yes, and we enjoy it, we really do, and so do our kids. We really do feel…” I pause, trying to figure out just how we feel. “Part of things,” I finally say, although that isn’tentirelytrue. I feel more a part of things than I once did, but I’m not a card-carrying, cloth-Bible-toting member of the fellowship yet, that’s for sure.
“I’m so glad,” Pastor Todd says warmly. “Because what I’ve wanted to talk to you and Josh about is the possibility of you becoming members.”
“Right.” I smile weakly. “Yes. That seems…” I trail off helplessly.
His eyebrows rise. “It seems…” he prompts.
I shrug, even more helpless. I really don’t know what I’m trying to say.
“Abby…” Pastor Todd’s voice is gentle. “What, in your own opinion, would keep you and Josh from becoming members?”
He sounds so practical and so nonjudgmental, I find myself blurting, “Well, I’m just not sure that we’re, you know,real.”
A smile tugs the corner of his mouth. “Real?”
“Real, you know…” I lower my voice to a ridiculous whisper. “Believers.”
“Ah.” Pastor Todd sits back in his chair, as if all has been revealed.
I duck my head, embarrassed. “I mean, we like church,” I feel the need to add hastily. “And I’ve really enjoyed Bible study. And I’m reading the Bible some, and so is Josh, and the music at Grace is amazing, but…” I shrug, helpless once again. “I’m just not sure we’re there yet.”
Pastor Todd nods slowly. “Understood,” he says, and there is no rancor, no judgment, in his voice, which fills me with relief.
I felt like I was going to get a look filled with disappointment or even a pointing finger of accusation and shame. But Pastor Todd just smiles.
“What do you think,” he asks, “would make youfeellike real believers?”
I stare at him, mystified. I was not expecting that question. “Umm..” My mind is blank. “I guess just a sense of certainty?” I offer hesitantly. “And fewer feelings of… doubt?”
Pastor Todd chuckles. “I think allbelieverswould appreciate those things,” he remarks, which surprises me somehow, because the idea of the pastor feeling any doubt just seems… absurd.
