Faithful (19 page)

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Authors: Kim Cash Tate

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How strange that Scott was partly the impetus for his coming.

Oh well, Lord. I guess I shouldn't try to make sense of it
.
You got him here, and that's all that matters
.

As the elder finished his prayer, Scott rose in the front row and made his way up the steps to the podium. Everyone in the church— including Hayes—seemed to lean forward in anticipation.

Thirteen

“G
OOD MORNING, EVERYONE
.” Scott cleared his throat. “For those who don't know me, my name is Scott Elliott.”

Dana felt the whole church closing in on her as Scott began to speak, as if the crowd had one eye on Scott and the other bearing down on her to see if she would break down during his “confession.” The heat from their stares made her feel like she might hyperventilate.

Scott looked down to the front row. “I want to thank Pastor Lyles for allowing me this time. He said I didn't have to do it, and I understand. In fact, I wanted to take his word and run with it . . . but I knew I . . .” He lost his voice and cleared his throat again. “I knew I had to do this.”

He paused. Then he nodded slightly and set his jaw. “I had an affair. I was unfaithful to my wife.”

Dana sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. Hearing him say it—in front of everybody—slammed her heart against their new reality. How many times had she heard the words
affair
and
unfaithful
in reference to other marriages and felt a dim horror at the very prospect? Now the horror was hers. It was real.

“You might be thinking,
I would never
, and I don't blame you. I thought the same thing. Thought I'd never do something like this to my wife, my marriage. But temptation comes.” A single humorless chuckle eased from his mouth. “And it can come stronger than anything you've experienced, in ways you hadn't anticipated. If you're not constantly praying, constantly clinging to God, constantly avoiding improper situations, you just might fall.”

Scott allowed his words to settle over the sanctuary as he surveyed the pews. The church was unnervingly quiet.

“When I came to the podium,” Scott continued, “I was thinking about all the times I've stood up here on behalf of Marriages for Christ, always with Dana by my side. We'd be announcing some event—a weekend conference or a movie night. Or some might remember that bowling night when the men bragged and then threw all those gutter balls, while the women showed us up.”

A few seemed relieved to break the tension with a chuckle.

“Or we'd remind you of the mentoring program for younger couples and nudge the seasoned couples to volunteer some time. Some of the guys I mentored are out there right now . . .” Scott seemed overcome by the realization and bowed his head to collect himself.

Dana hadn't considered what would happen to Scott's mentoring relationships. Those guys really looked up to him.

“So after working to support marriages,” Scott continued, his voice emotion-filled, “here I stand confessing the damage I've done to my own.” He paused. “But I guess one thing hasn't changed. I'm still up here in support of marriages. I'm up here because I do hope you ‘never.' I hope you never stand in my shoes.” He stopped to gather himself again. “My sin is ever before me. Even though I've repented, it haunts me.”

He released a sigh and gripped the sides of the podium, glancing toward the section of seating on his right. His eyes fell squarely on Dana. “I love my wife more than life itself, yet I've dealt her enormous pain. I don't know how she'll ever forgive me. I don't deserve it.” His voice broke, and he swiped a tear from his face. “But I'm begging God for a second chance, and I'm begging you—” His eyes swept the congregation. “Please. Cling to God. Cling to your spouses. And . . . if you have a mind to, I'm asking you to please pray for my wife and me.”

Scott left the podium and returned to his seat in the front row as Pastor Lyles made his way up the steps.

P
HYLLIS STARED DOWN
at the Bible in her lap, tears pooling in her eyes. She'd heard it from Scott's own mouth and still couldn't believe it. A heavy sadness had come over her as he spoke. She hurt for Dana, thinking what it must have been like when she found out, what she must have been going through since. Phyllis lifted her eyes a little and glanced at her friend. Dana was holding herself, her head lowered, hand clutching a tissue. Phyllis had begun praying for her before Scott even asked.

Phyllis hurt for Scott too. His pain and remorse were palpable. He'd probably never forgive himself completely. She felt compassion for him, knowing his character . . . and knowing that he was right. Temptation comes, and it can come strong.

His confession had propelled her back to last night, to her time in the car with Rod, and the overwhelming desire she had for him to hold her and kiss her. Even this morning on the plane she'd taken pleasure in the memory, in imagining what it might have been like.

She fished a tissue from her purse. The tears that watered her cheeks were for Dana and Scott, but also for her own shame—she'd been capable of the very sin Scott had committed.

She leaned closer to her husband, thankful to God for guarding her in that car from making a mistake for which she, too, might never have forgiven herself.

I
N ALL OF
her years at Living Word, Cyd had never felt such anticipation for the pastor's sermon as she did right now. What would he say about Scott's confession? How exactly did he plan to tackle this “sex series”? And what was this new initiative mentioned in the recorded message?

Pastor Lyles stared out at them with a sober expression. He was normally charged, a light twinkling in his eyes, brimming with eagerness to get going with the message God had laid on his heart. But now he stood away from the podium, silently taking in the congregation. He'd always worn conservative colors, but today the black suit seemed chosen specifically for the occasion. Even his tie had mournful hues.

Cyd was hanging on his words before he even began.

Pastor Lyles sighed and lingered in silence a couple seconds more. “As you all know,” he began finally, “we were in the second chapter of First Peter, but I felt strongly that an interruption of that series was in order so that we might address an alarming reality that is pervading our church.”

The pastor talked more slowly than normal, emphasizing each word. He walked now to the podium. “You heard from brother Scott Elliott, and while his situation grieves me deeply and served to jumpstart this sermon, it grieves me more to report that his is an encouraging circumstance. He has acknowledged the wrong and desires to turn from it.”

He let his words settle among the crowd.

“Unfortunately, too many situations come to my attention in which there has been a wrong committed and that wrong is defended, even dressed up and justified, and our families are being torn apart. It's time to address this problem openly, examine it in the light of God's Word.”

Pastor Lyles left the podium and walked across the platform, pointing his reading glasses at the congregation. “I know what you singles are saying. ‘Why did we need a joint service? Why couldn't they have started a special evening study for married couples to deal with this?'” He stopped in his tracks. “Let me tell you why. Because adultery in the church is not our biggest problem; our biggest problem is fornication. Yes, that old-fashioned word for singles who engage in sex outside of marriage.”

Cyd's eyes widened. She couldn't recall ever hearing the pastor hit this subject so hard.

Cedric shifted, crossed a leg over a knee, then planted both feet on the floor again. He leaned toward Cyd. “You're
sure
you didn't talk to him?”

Pastor Lyles continued a slow walk to the opposite side of the platform. “Adultery and fornication come under a single umbrella—sexual sin. And because they are
sins
”—he spoke the word in a low, deep tone— “they dwell together under another larger umbrella—unfaithfulness.”

He turned now, that spark he was known for quickening his steps to the other side. “See, you call yourselves people of God, and then you get with a certain someone and that someone looks good to you and you start taking an inch, then another inch, and the breathing gets a little heavier—”

Faint chuckles sounded around the sanctuary, and he looked out at the congregation.

“Oh, don't act embarrassed now. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Some of you were there last night—”

Cyd's heart was beating so fast she had to fold her arms to calm it down.

“—and you ended up going the mile when you shouldn't have taken the inch, and guess what all that passion bought? An unfaithful heart.” He nodded slowly, sober again. “That's where I want our focus to be during this short series, even more so than the sexual sins themselves. Where are our hearts before God? What does it mean to be true to God?” Pastor Lyles returned to the podium.

“Before I begin today's specific message, I want to explain something new we're doing in conjunction with this series. To encourage accountability and interaction with the Scripture verses we'll be covering, we're forming ‘Intimacy Groups' after the service. That was the main reason for the joint service, so we could get everyone established in a group at one time.

“These I-Groups will meet in private homes once a week for two weeks to discuss the sermon from the previous Sunday. And every person who signs up will receive a copy of the sermon on CD and a list of questions and discussion points to serve as a guide. To make scheduling easy, we'll forgo Wednesday night Bible study here at the church this week and next, so those who normally attend can use that time for group meetings. Groups should consist of no more than eight to ten people, so your discussions can be open and meaningful.”

Cedric leaned over again. “I want to be in your group.”

Cyd wouldn't even look at him.

He just doesn't get it
.

“After these two weeks, you will know what God has to say about sex.” He took a single step to the side of the podium and paused. “The goal is that you give your hearts fully to God . . . that you commit to be faithful.”

Fourteen

T
HE SOLOIST SANG
softly with the backing of the choir. The lights in the sanctuary were dimmed. Dana felt herself begin to tremble.

Pastor Lyles, finished now with his sermon, spoke with a voice of compassion. “We've touched on some hard truths today. We've dug into some areas that I'm sure hit home with many of you, one way or another, and you've been challenged. But I want you to understand that God doesn't expect you to meet the challenge alone. He gives grace. All you have to do is surrender.” He extended his hand. “We're offering a special time right now for you to come forward and pray with one of our volunteers.”

The music had to be mingling with Dana's emotions. She couldn't figure out why this sudden surge. The tears had held during Scott's confession and during the sermon, which at points struck right at the heart of her pain, but now those tears wanted out, and not in a light, dignified way. They came from someplace deep, causing her chest to heave as she struggled to rein it all in. The very thing she didn't want to happen was happening—she was breaking down in public.

Hunched over with Cyd's arm around her, Dana wanted to remain there, but something within was urging her to get up. She shut her eyes tight.

God, no. I can't walk up there like this. And anyway, the pastor already prayed for me last night
.

Dana lifted her head a tad and took a peek.

Okay, definitely not, Lord. There's no one up there! Everyone would be looking at me
.

She hoped the music would fade and the pastor would say the benediction, but the soft melody continued to play and the soloist continued to sing, lyrics that reached deep into Dana's soul.

The urge came stronger, and she took a couple of breaths, pushed off of her elbows, and sat up straight. She came to her feet. Everyone in the pew stared, and those in her way slanted their knees as she walked past, head bent, a tissue poised beneath her nose.

In the aisle she held herself, thankful she didn't have far to walk. There were several volunteers standing along the front, and as she searched their faces, she was relieved to see Ma Claudia. The tears fell harder. She walked straight into Claudia's open arms and immediately felt another pair of arms behind her. She tilted her head. It was Scott. And something in the moment caused her to turn and allow her husband to hold her for the first time since he'd broken her heart.

She laid her head on his chest and wept as his arms tightened around her and he whispered over and over, “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry.” His cheek brushed her forehead, and she felt the wetness of his own tears. Slowly her arms rose behind his back and she embraced him. She only remembered they were standing in front of thousands of people when an applause rose and rippled like a wave across the sanctuary and up into the balcony. When she looked up, people were standing on their feet, some wiping their eyes.

As she took in the response, her eyes overflowed all the more. She tucked her head back to Scott's chest, overwhelmed. She had thought people would be critical, that they would hate Scott, that the consensus would be she should leave him. That the congregation seemed to be pulling for them, cheering even, was beyond anything she could have imagined.

It confirmed something in her heart—that it really was okay to want her marriage.

As the applause waned, Dana and Scott turned back to Ma Claudia and saw Bruce there as well. The four of them bowed their heads as Bruce and Claudia took turns praying for God to heal and restore their marriage.

Scott led Dana by hand to the front row where he'd been sitting. Others had come forward for prayer, and Dana was surprised to see Phyllis among them. When the last people had returned to their seats, Pastor Lyles gave the closing prayer and benediction, then gave instructions as to where to go and how to sign up for the Intimacy Groups.

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