Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
The sermon goes well, and everyone in attendance seems to respond positively. For today’s sermon, I took inspiration from a letter we received about finding a second family. The writer chose to remain anonymous, but they were discussing their sexuality and how their family back home rejected them because of their leanings. Yet now, our anonymous parishioner is worried that the new family they’re building here at the Village Church might not be accepting either.
So today’s sermon was really directed at them, letting them know that at the Village, we accept all types. But also, I wanted anyone in our congregation who was having similar thoughts and doubts to know that we are here to spread love and nothing else.
Being in the pulpit does wonders for calming my mind too. I was feeling a little anxious regarding Mira and had some trouble clearing my head for a few minutes there. It’s natural after all, given what we did, and even now, I still have a few worries bouncing around in my mind. But I’m not totally freaking about it. I know she’s safe and sound in my office, and we’ll be able to talk with her soon enough.
Soon, the sermon ends and I step down. Jordan and I make our way to the entrance of the church to shake hands with our departing flock. We do this after every service, greeting each parishioner by name. I remember shaking Mira’s hand a couple of times too and noting what a beautiful girl she is. Who knew this would happen?
I’d never really interacted with her before today because Jordan and I were so preoccupied with getting our church off of the grounds, that we never had a one-on-one. But clearly, things are different now.
I speak goodbye with my usual ‘May God be with you,’ as well as ‘We are all the Lord’s children,’ depending on what the congregant says to me on their way out. I’m a little spacey right now, but it’s okay. Only a few more minutes of farewells, and then Jordan and I can get back my office. Finally, it’s done and we make our way down the darkened hallway.
“What are we going to say to her?” my co-pastor asks.
I shrug because I have no idea. I did my best not to think about it too much because honestly, there are no clear answers.
I ease the door to my office open quietly, just in case she’s still sleeping, but then our eyes bug out and we come to a complete standstill. There’s no Mira. What the fuck?
“Did you see her leave?” I demand. Jordan shakes his head. She must have gone out the back, and I look on my coffee table to see if there is any kind of note, but there isn’t.
She’s just up and left.
I take a seat behind the big mahogany desk to think.
“This isn’t great,” I comment.
“Yeah, and this is what happened last time too. She up and left so fast, I didn’t see it coming. She didn’t seem upset though, right?”
“I don’t think so.”
I shake my head with confusion. There was no sadness in Mira when we departed. What she seemed was sleepy, not that it’s her fault. We did quite a lot during that short meeting we had in our office.
But shit. Did I misread the whole encounter? It’s totally possible. I’m good at focusing on where my congregants are at because it’s something a pastor is supposed to be able to do, but maybe I got it totally wrong this time. Fuck.
“So what do we do now?” Jordan looks at me with raised eyebrows, his expression grim.
“Fuck if I know.”
“Great answer bro.”
I sigh. “We should talk with her again. We need to speak with her, obviously.”
Because I’m not about to have this perfect girl just walk out of our lives. Not with putting in some effort to keep her close by. Maybe we should have explained our position to her instead of just jumping right into it, but it’s too late now. She’s probably wandering around the city wondering if we’re freaks, not to mention potential criminals.
I sit down at my desk and pull up the email I wrote her. I remember that she appended her phone number down at the bottom, but I assumed that it wouldn’t be necessary for me to use.
Look at how wrong I was.
I enter the number into my phone and save it before sending it over to Jordan. His phone pings, and he checks the message I just sent him.
“Okay, so are we going to call her?” he asks.
I shrug.
“At some point. Maybe we should let her think a little, and come to terms with what just happened. If we jump on her too quickly, we might end up scaring her away, and that is the last thing I want.”