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 rest of the walk home is a somber one. We stroll in silence, as I’m sure Jason is thinking about the same thing I am.
Mira is such a bright light in our lives, and I don’t want to do anything that will dim it. Yet, what option do we have? We need to keep things on the downlow because of careers and reputations, but what if Mira doesn’t want that?
It’s Sunday.
Jason and I haven’t really spoken again about the Mira issue. We tried briefly, but after five minutes, it was clear the conversation was going to be fruitless, so we stopped. It sucks hiding a potential relationship, almost like hiding Mira is a crime.
But what can we do? That’s how the world works, and Jason and I can’t force society to see that triads are actually normal, and even condoned by the Bible in some way. Fuck.
Today is my day to give a sermon, and standing on the pulpit, I decide to talk about staying true to oneself and standing by your convictions. The congregation looks at me raptly, like they are convinced by what I have to say.
Yet I feel like a hypocrite. I’m telling everyone to do what they believe in, but I’m over here forcing myself to hide. What a bucket of shit.
The service ends, and Jason and I greet parishioners before heading to the weekly coffee hour. A majority of the congregation gathers in the basement, laughing and talking as pastries and coffee are served. Ever since we started Village Church, we’ve had this social gathering because it’s important for our congregants to get to know one another, and this felt like a great way to do it. People are relaxed, yet looking their best in their Sunday finery.
During the hour, we have a revolving door of people coming to talk to us, and a lot of them are pretty young girls. They like to fawn and flirt, but Jason and I have never really engaged with them. First, because it never felt right. We’re on our best behavior during these Sunday gatherings, and it would do no good to flirt with these nubile women. But second, because everyone’s watching us during the coffee hour. Old ladies laugh and chat, but I know they’ve got eyes like hawks. Unfortunately, Ana doesn’t realize this.
“Hi, Pastor Jordan. I really liked the sermon today.”
“Thank you. A little voice told me that was the right topic to tackle for today.”
“Do you ever feel lost like that?” Ana asks. I look at the young woman, and see that she’s not trying to flirt. In fact, she seems a little muted like she’s holding something back.
“From time to time,” I sigh. “There are always instances when we feel like we need to act a certain way because of society or our peers. Sometimes the pressure even comes from our friends and family, but what matters is that we are happy with the choices we make because, at the end of the day, the one person who can truly judge is God. The main goal in this life is to be true to yourself and to move forward with kindness. Remember, by serving God we also serve others.”
The young woman nods and smiles, even if she still looks a bit troubled.
“Thank you, Pastor. I’ll see you around.”
Ana goes back to the refreshment table, and I sigh. I’m not sure if my words got through to her. All I can do is hope and repeat myself as many times as necessary because I learned early on that it’s impossible to save each and every person. People get lost, and we can’t force them back into the light. All there is to do is offer words of encouragement.
Jason materializes at my side, looking sharp in his black suit with a white open-collar shirt.
“Yo.”
“Hey,” I greet him in return. He lowers his voice.
“Did you see Mira?” Jason motions with his head to where our girl is standing and talking with her friend, Jessie. She has on a gorgeous purple gown that goes all the way to the floor. It flows in that way that expensive fabric does, making her look like royalty. Her hair hangs down her back in loose curls, and with a light laugh, she flips a strand over her shoulder.
I remember seeing her around before, even if we never did actually speak. She seemed like someone godly and obedient, with a saucy streak. I’m so glad we’ve gotten to know her a bit.
“Yeah, she’s gorgeous,” I reply in a low voice. I know Jason is also thinking about getting her alone because seeing her ignites something inside of me that I haven’t been able to control. It’s literally been an exercise in self-restraint every second I’m anywhere near her.
“We really need to do something about this,” Jason says. “It’s fucking impossible to concentrate.” While he’s not being specific, I know what he’s talking about. The desperation in his voice is apparent because the two of us are going stir-crazy, and that’s not good for anyone.