I don’t regret meeting Jon. I knew that God put us together early. I knew he was my destiny, but sometimes as if I was a fisherman I wanted to throw back my destiny and start again

Nosey gossiping church members were sucking out my passion for life leaving me an irritable shell of what I felt called to do on this earth. Surely that hadn’t been God’s will. The comfortable stuffy American church needed to wake up from their petty problems, and see what it was like for two minutes for Christians in the rest of the world.

But time is like that, it’s a bitter acquaintance that no matter how hard one tries to fight it one can’t. One always is bound to its constantly ticking onward and even though many have wanted to bottle it, it just couldn’t be done.

Memories can sometimes be more powerful than the present.

I had long since wished that they would have been born with a dictionary sized how-to guide in my placenta. It would have been custom printed for each child by God. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. I’d been forced to walk through the minefield of parenthood feeling like I was blindfolded and hopping on one leg. Surely my kids should understand that I was trying to know what I was doing, but the verdict still seemed out at the moment.

Wasn’t I allowed at least one nervous breakdown a year? Maybe next year Jon and I could pencil it into our calendar. Maybe we could post it in the church bulletin. It would read “ATTENTION: Our Dear Pastor’s wife is scheduling her annual nervous breakdown, so if you could avoid calling, texting, emailing, or whining in her direction for the next week between the hours of 10:00 a.m. and 4:00 p.m., she would be most grateful.

Father is pleased with your progress. You humans are all the same you know. You’re always refusing just to enjoy the moment you’re in when you don’t understand things. You know just because you don’t understand something doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it. Father gave you all this for a gift. Have fun a little. You are at a royal affair. Maybe you should lighten up.” Really? My life was on hold and an angel was complaining to me that I needed to kick back and relax. Did an angel just tell me to lighten up?

I was going to stop pretending that just because we were in ministry we were perfect. I was tired of wearing the mask of ministry, and knew that I needed to start living the life.

Perhaps we could fool them, but Bathsheba was entering into a place I couldn’t help her. It was a dark place filled with the result of one night of bad choices. I could feel it beginning to erupt. It was as if Bathsheba had been sitting on a mountain and like a volcano it was getting ready to explode.

Repentance seemed like too loose of a word. I knew I’d been wrong, but that didn’t soften the blow.

Jennifer was good at her job and loved it. However, I hated the fact she was forced on me. She was young, beautiful, and thin. Everything I never felt that I was, and she always insisted on wearing heels and cute little suits in the office. Really? Who had such bionic feet that they could wear those day in and day out. My attitude toward her bordered on civil with a touch of sarcasm. I was sure she had stories to tell the women in the church on how hard I was to work with. I told myself I didn’t care. I’d wear flip-flops and flats at my desk and sequester all shoes over a two-inch heel to be worn only on Sundays.

She was going to be okay. I knew she was. She had forever changed my life and I had changed hers. I had heard a soldier once speak of the camaraderie men who fight in battle have with each other. I felt that way with Bathsheba now. She was more than just a name in my Bible, and we’d become more than just friends.

What made you know so much about all of this?” She didn’t try to come across as angry, just curious. “It’s called American High School. Don’t worry; I’m a pastor’s wife. I speak Pretentious Caddy Women fluently.” She looked up at me questioningly. I knew she didn’t understand my humor but I thought I was hilarious.