It was quite possibly the longest, most awkward car ride either of them had ever endured. Pastor Kent drove him home from the conference and used it as an opportunity to voice, loudly and repeatedly,  his overwhelming sense of disappointment, hurt, humiliation, betrayal and just plain mess. Now, his would be the role of fielding nosy calls, inquiring as to the dramatic change in the music minister or “something I just heard.” His would be the task of chairing those ever-so-delightful follow up meetings with the church board at which his plan for healing and reconciliation would be mapped out. His would be the unwelcome experience of eating crow in the face of board members who were among those who voted not to hire him in the first place.

His anger was ripe, raw and very real. But, his victim willingly succumbed to the verbal whipping since he had already…

A bleak situation was rendered that much more so in the light of her frantic quest for answers. Anger and fear had morphed into a numbing pain. Like anyone faced with rocks and hard places, desperate measures become their moment by moment reality, and, caught in that place, she contemplated her options. “Do I stay with the boys but kick him out of the house? Is there a way for us to escape back to Canada where we at least know more people and have a support system?” she pondered fearfully.

She chose instead to call a counselor seeking…well, counsel. His advice offered a modicum of comfort. Their tenuous immigration situation denied quick and easy solutions, even in the face of such challenges as presently faced them. It was complicated. If she left and went back to Canada, she would throw away everything she had already endured through the whole…

His was to be a long and heavy road. But all roads that lead to healing places necessarily pass through fetid gardens of defeat before arriving at redemption’s fresh air. His head pounded with that most precise of head pains otherwise known as the hangover. His drinking had become so bad in recent months that such things were unheard of in his experience. Why “hang-over” when one was already leaning over the edge of insanity?

He met with Kent, Roger and Reed for what seemed like hours, his stomach and his head reminding each other of their shared misdeeds. Soon, a sense of clarity began to come. They would determine an appropriate date when he would tell his story to the church board. Later, with the board’s direction, he would do so with the congregation. In actual fact, the board later decided to deal with it behind closed doors rather…

She pulled into the driveway not four minutes later, her thoughts swirling in a cacophonous mixture of rage, confusion, and concern. Even in that short time, she had to crack the windows enough to coax out the insistent smell of his all-day intoxication. She was at the door long before him, slamming it open while he was still navigating the step, that endless step, out of the van to the ground somewhere far below. When he finally made it inside, her feelings of abandonment and emotional rape took over. A family picture found its way off the wall and lay demolished on the floor. It was a convincing sound that scared their eldest son, waking him up.

A family was coming apart at the seams and he knew it. He let her rant. What else was she to do in such a moment? His self-esteem was lodged somewhere in his lower intestine…

He stumbled back to his office barely remembering the way, a path oft trod in the past three years. The hallway narrowed ominously with each fumbling step. The lights seemed more like taunting stars in some unknown sky. This familiar heaviness in his soul was peppered with liberal amounts of fear and doubt and pestered a conscience, dulled and thin. His life had become one big bungee jump of risk versus survival into which joy, let alone hope, was not allowed. At least that had been his inner narrative for more years than he could remember.

He managed to sprawl himself into his spinning office chair with a careless groan. An even more insidious narrative played within, tapes well-worn that had become his fair-weather companions. “I’m fine”, he said to himself, “if I stay here just a while longer, this will wear off and no one will be the wiser.”…