Writers aren’t people exactly. Or, if they’re any good, they’re a whole lot of people trying so hard to be one person.
This last Sunday, the Elder was teaching from the pulpit. I suppressed a smile, sitting back in the pew, I knew I shouldn’t be, but I couldn’t resist flipping between my Bible app and Kik, talking to the girl.
“Jason, I believe you taught a class on this subject last fall, did we miss anything before we move on?”
I snapped to attention.
“Well, first thing that comes to my mind is in the Shema in Deuteronomy 6:4, ‘Hear, Oh Israel. The Lord-‘ note the use of the tetragrammaton, Yahweh…” I said donning my disguise.
Who was the real me these days, who is Jason? The adulterer, pleasure seeker, womanizer, hopeless romantic, or this apparently nice young man who teaches Bible classes and takes care of his family.
“Jason… Jason! You’re in another world,” My wife said as I carried the diaper bag and held my son’s hand from his Sunday school class.
“What makes you say that?” I asked, escaping my daze.
“You always seem to be staring off in space or at your phone and smiling. What’s going on? I know you are talking to someone, who is this girl?”
It was the first time she’d ever used a singular before when accusing me. She always talked about my ‘girls’ or ‘girlfriends’ that I’m seeing. But, it had been that way before I had my first thought of cheating. It had always been that way, she always thought that another woman would steal me away from her as had happened with all her past boyfriends. She was right, it was just a girl this time. I had never worn my heart on my sleeve like this, a little bit with Sierra, but here I was far more careless. The girl had sown her seeds in my heart, seemingly while I slept, and now they’d blossomed. It was more than flirtation, more than desire, there seemed to be actual substance, romance. It was scary, but thrilling. I feared what it could mean. Could it lead to the destruction of all I knew and held dear? I couldn’t decide if that’s what I wanted, or not, but the fact that suddenly the mere suggestion was there in my mind was something foreign and demanded answers. But, I am blind, feeling along a dark corridor, not knowing what is at the end, whether it would be better or worse, and still wondering if it wouldn’t be best to turn back and return to the light, to what I know.