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)
That’s what I’ll do. After all, this is the twenty-first century. Everything happens on email. Opening my laptop, I get to work. I’m not going to send the message until tomorrow, but it’s important to craft the perfect missive because suddenly, I know these two men are going to change my life forever.
9
Jordan
After Jason and I finished services and the usual coffee hour, we decided to go straight back home. No one really came forward with a request for a heart to heart, and any additional work we need to do around the church could be done the next day. As a result, there really was no need for us to stick around, and weirdly enough, we didn’t want to, which was a first.
After all, this church is our life. We left divinity school with lights in our eyes and big plans. Everyone said we were crazy to start up yet another non-denominational church in the big, bad city that is New York. Yet it felt right, and we launched the Village Church on a shoestring budget and lots of hope. We’ve poured our hearts and souls into this little endeavor, and it’s paid us back a hundred-fold already.
So it’s surprising that Jason and I are itching to take off this morning. We left a sign on the church door to let anyone who comes by know that we’ll be unavailable until the afternoon service. Hopefully, they think we’re working hard, but really, it’s all about Mira.
Walking home, my buddy and I don’t really talk. I’m sure he’s ruminating over everything that’s gone down. After all, my buddy is a ruminator and works things over in his head a million times before saying a peep. Me on the other hand, I like to talk through things. That’s what helps me to make sense of my issues.
We arrive at our apartment building and walk up to the apartment. I unlock the door and let us both in. Head down, Jason goes straight to his room while I stroll to the kitchen to get myself a cold glass of water. Downing my drink, I put the glass in the sink and grab two beers.
Sitting on the couch, I crack open my can loudly, placing Jason’s on the table for him when he emerges. Clearly, he’s listening because barely a minute later he emerges. He takes a seat on the couch as well, opening his own beer.
Sunday nights we usually order some food, but we haven’t cracked open a menu yet. I can see there’s a lot of commotion going on up in his brain. I’m sure vittles are the last thing on Jason’s mind right now.
“What are you thinking about?”
“You know what I’m thinking about,” he grunts.
“Mira?”
“Mira.”
She’s what I’m thinking about as well. There’s no way to get her off my mind. We’ve just really met one another, and yet already, she’s burrowed her way deep into my awareness.
I’d say my only regret was not getting to know her sooner.
“What we did,” Jason trails off.
“I know.”
“It’s not exactly kosher.”
“I know.”
“I mean, she’s one of our flock,” he continues.
I can feel a Jason rant coming on. I already know I’m going to agree with everything he has to say. He just needs to get it out, though, so that he can work through whatever is whizzing around up there. It’s his process. I sit back and let him rail away.
“We’re supposed to be the shepherds. We’re supposed to be the guides, and that’s why we decided to do this. We’re not supposed to sleep with virginal eighteen-year-olds who come seeking succor.”
“I fully agree,” I reiterate.
“But here we are, doing these crazy fucked up things.”
I’m silent for a moment.
“Do you regret it?”
Jason takes a deep breath.
“No, not really,” he grunts. “I mean, Mira’s amazing.” He pauses again. “I’ve never met anyone like her. Sweet, curvy, and she seems to love church too.”
I nod. Mira is phenomenal. These days, a lot of women aren’t religious anymore. They say they’re “spiritual,” but what that usually means is meditation with a sprinkling of yoga thrown in. It’s pretty rare to meet a college girl who truly believes in Our Maker in Heaven, and who never misses a Sunday sermon. Most girls in New York have different priorities, like partying it up every weekend, and sleeping in on Sundays.
“You’re right. She’s someone special, but what are we going to do about this? What can we do that doesn’t dig us into a hole?”
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
“What am I talking about? I’m talking about getting out of this mess we’ve created for ourselves.”
“There’s no mess. I mean, it doesn’t have to be a mess,” he says. Jason puts his beer down and rubs his hands over his eyes. His brow is heavily furrowed. I know he’s getting stressed because my friend isn’t a fan of huge, unprecedented change. But I think he’ll be able to adjust, once the ball gets rolling.