The Visitor Monica s Diary Wednesday June 28
- 3 years ago
- 32
- 0
The Visitor: Monica's Diary, June 15 And June 17 free porn video
Monica's Diary
Thursday, June 15
Cynthia called again, this time in the afternoon. The boys were down by
the creek "prospecting for Skylas" as Mark put it. I do often wonder
what had become of Garrett and do pray that they wouldn't find him face
down anywhere, though I have the feeling from what Timothy has told us
about Garrett that he is one of those individuals who like a cat always
manages to land on his feet no matter what the situation. The girls and
I were weeding the vegetable garden when the phone rang.
"Monica, this is Cynthia. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Just working in the garden. I needed a break anyway."
"Oh good. Listen, I heard from Timothy. He was so excited that you all
came to see him."
"Really?" I was surprised.
"Your visit was all he could talk about. I think," and here she lowered
her voice, "I think you and your husband are the only good he is
experiencing right now."
"I'm glad we could help. We've told our church about what he's been
through, and we were all praying for him at prayer meeting last night."
"Thank you. I wish we could get our church involved, but Ken won't hear
of it. He doesn't want a word spoken about it to anyone."
"I don't understand."
"Nobody in our church knows Timothy was at the boys' ranch. As far as
they know, he's at some private school."
"But surely you've told your pastor?"
"No. Ken doesn't want a word of this to get out. In fact, that's why
I've called. Dr. Norfleet contacted us again."
"Dr. Norfleet?"
"Remember that lady I told you about that visited us about Timothy and
made Ken so mad?"
"She's a doctor?"
"And apparently very high up in Family and Protective Services. She's
contacted some LGBTQxyz or whatever they are to help Timothy on his way
to becoming Skyla, but they say they can't work with him while he's in
jail."
"Well that's a mercy anyway," I blurted.
"Yeah, well, the thing is. They can't find any place to put him. Dr.
Norfleet won't allow him back at the boys' ranch. She says she has
initiated an investigation into the place for juvenile malpractice or
something. She said that her office has contacted homes and shelters all
over the state, but either they don't have room, or nobody wants to deal
with him. So, she came back to us."
"You're going to get him back?" I asked. By this time the girls had
found their way one by one back into the house, ostensibly for a drink
of cold water. Each remained in the kitchen, however, sipping ever so
slowly and focusing their attention entirely on my side of the
conversation. When they heard my last question, they all swooped in and
sat down on the floor in front of me.
"Only if we let him live as a girl, attend all kinds of transgender
meetings, and get him set up with doctors for hormones and therapy and
whatnot."
"So, the short answer is 'no'," I said.
"Ken wouldn't hear of it."
"But you can't just leave him there."
"I begged him, Monica. I broke down and begged. When that didn't work I
threatened to leave him and take Timothy myself. And you know what he
said?" She paused, but I had nothing to say. "He said, 'Fine. I'll
request another deployment. You can have everything, and I'll never have
to see him again.' Monica, I think he means to go over there and not
come back alive."
"Cynthia, I'm so sorry."
"I know, right. I have to choose between my son and my husband. But it's
worse than that. Even if I choose my son, I lose him. He becomes
something else, something not my son, something not my daughter. I have
no choice! I have no choice!" Cynthia was screaming by this time. I was
holding the phone farther and farther from my ear. The girls were
frightened. I stood up with the phone's cradle in one hand and the
headset in the other and paced back and forth in front of the couch. We
do not have a long cord.
"Cynthia, listen to me," I said. She fell silent. "None of this has
taken God by surprise. Before He created the world, He knew we would be
facing this. This is a problem for us, but not for Him. He told us to
cast our burden upon Him and He would sustain us. He never said He would
remove the burden, but He did say He would give us the grace to bear it.
I will be praying for you and yours. The girls will pray with me. When
Nathan gets home we will all pray together, and we will continue to do
so until the LORD gives us the wisdom we need to know what to do."
"Okay, yes, thank you," Cynthia said evenly.
"Now, get something to eat. Lie down and take a nap. You'll feel better.
Put this out of your mind. Nathan and our congregation will seek God's
will in this matter. I will call you with whatever seems good to the
Holy Spirit and to us."
"Okay," she said and hung up.
"Why did you say that?" Sarah asked immediately.
"Say what?" I had not yet recovered from Cynthia's outburst.
"That part about what seems good to the Holy Spirit and to us," Sarah
said.
"It's in the Bible," Hannah said. "I think it's in Acts."
I finally hung up the phone and sat down on the couch. "I don't know why
I said that exactly. I do remember that the congregation in Jerusalem
was faced with something they had never even thought about."
"What?" Elizabeth asked.
"The conversion of people who were not Jews," I answered. "They all
originally thought that the Messiah had come only for them. But starting
with Peter and that Roman Cornelius and later Paul and all those
gentiles in Asia Minor and Greece, the church in Jerusalem came to
realize that Christ had come for gentiles too."
"Like the Samaritans?" Hannah suggested.
"Yes," I said, "like the Samaritans. At first, they thought that the
gentiles would have to become Jews first before they could be saved--you
know be circumcised and keep the Law of Moses--but later, after the
church had met and prayed and searched the Scriptures, they came to a
different conclusion."
"So, the Holy Spirit told the apostles it was okay for the gentiles to
stay gentiles?" Hannah asked.
"No," I said, "not in so many words. They read in the Hebrew Scriptures
that God had promised to save the gentiles who turned to Him and they
realized that God had given the Holy Spirit to the gentiles just as He
had given the Holy Spirit to the Jews on the Day of Pentecost. The only
requirements were repentance and faith."
"I still don't get it," Sarah said. "How does that seem good to the Holy
Spirit?"
"The congregation in Jerusalem made their decision on what they read in
the Bible and the fact that they could see the Holy Spirit working in
the lives of the gentiles," I replied.
"But the Holy Spirit isn't working in Timothy's life. He can't be."
Hannah protested. "If He were, then Timothy wouldn't be, you know, doing
that."
"I know," I quickly agreed. "But maybe it's not so much the Holy Spirit
working in Timothy's life as it is the Holy Spirit working on Timothy's
life, and that's why He brought him into our lives."
"To get him saved," Elizabeth stated.
"No," I answered. "We can't get anybody saved; only God does that. We
can be a witness to him, a testimony to the grace of God. Maybe God will
work through us to call Timothy out of his darkness into His marvelous
light. Maybe we will plant the first of many seeds in his life that will
one day grow into repentance on his part, or else."
"Or else what?" Sarah asked.
"Or else, we will be the evidence God will point to on judgement day
that Timothy had heard the truth and rejected it."
With that I had each of us go to a separate place in the house and pray
as we would for Timothy, Ken, and Cynthia and what He would have us do
for them. Afterwards I began preparing supper. During our meal I
recounted to Nathan all that Cynthia had told me.
"Well it's obvious something has to happen, or that entire family will
be destroyed," Nathan said after I had finished. "I think I will visit
Timothy again, but this time I'll ask the pastor to come along. We've
kept him informed, but he needs to see for himself what everyone is up
against."
I nodded my assent to his idea, feeling at once relief and guilt. My
last meeting with Timothy had become an almost instant argument. I don't
like conflict and try to avoid arguing, yet I could not stop feeling for
him what I felt when I encountered him in the Canadian. He needed help
and needed it immediately. Still this was a man-thing after all. Who
better to handle it than these two men?
Monica's Diary
Saturday, June 17
Today was almost normal. Nathan slept in and so did the children. He
left a little earlier than we had the week before--he had nobody but
himself to get ready and packed into his truck--to pick up Pastor Chupco
and visit Timothy. The rest of us, after a slow start, began our routine
of yard work, garden work, house cleaning, and laundry.
I was hanging up sheets on the clothes line out back when one of them
tackled me. It was Josiah. He's been doing this for about a year now and
thinks it the funniest joke in the world. We lay there and laughed for a
few seconds and then he hugged me. We sat up and, just when I thought
our little moment was over, he asked me the question.
"Mama, is Timothy going to turn into a girl?"
"No, sweetie, he's not," I said, brushing who knows what out of his
hair. "He might try to live as a girl for a while or forever, but he's
not going to turn into one."
"So, boys can't turn into girls?" Josiah reached down and tried to get
an ant to crawl on his finger. "Ever?"
"We're not like tadpoles," I said. "Human beings don't turn into
anything but older human beings. If boys could turn into girls, what
would happen to families?"
"But why does he want to?"
"I do not know, Josiah. I can only suspect that he imagines that his
life will be better that way."
"Better?" He wrinkled up his nose. "How can that be better? When you're
a girl you have to be afraid of everything."
"What?"
"Just look at Hannah and Elizabeth. They're afraid of bugs and animals
and loud noises. Sarah is afraid of dirt and tearing her clothes. Who
can live like that?"
"But you're afraid of stuff too, Josiah," I said, touching him on the
nose with my forefinger.
"I'm not afraid of nothing!"
"Soap and water!"
"Oh, mom!" We both laughed at that, and then he jumped up and ran off in
search of danger. I got up and finished hanging out the laundry.
Nathan got home before supper, so he sat at the kitchen table and told
me about their first visit with Timothy while I fixed our meal. Of
course, the children gathered round, and we took it all in together.
"He doesn't look any more beat up than before, but he looks very, very
tired."
"Did you and brother Chupco go in at the same time?" I asked.
"Yes, and the pastor spent nearly the whole of our first session
assuring Timothy that he wasn't there to judge or condemn him and that
the entire congregation was praying for his release."
"Did that help?" I asked.
"It started him up again asking if somebody could take him in."
"Did he cry?" Hannah asked.
"Of course, he cried. Timothy always cries," Mark stated.
"Pastor answered that he was certain that there were people in the
congregation willing to take him in, but it had been his experience that
there was more to it than merely them being willing."
"What did he mean?" I asked.
"Well, by what I heard him tell Timothy, you have to first apply to the
foster care program. Somebody from the state interviews you and your
family and inspects your home. They run a background check on you and
yours. That includes a criminal records investigation, a search for any
history of mental illness, and a credit check. You have to read a lot of
rules, regulations, and procedures. You have to pass a test on them.
Then you sign some kind of contract detailing what you can and cannot do
with your foster child."
"I had no idea," I said.
"Well he said some pretty terrible things have happened to kids who were
placed into the wrong hands over the years and the State of Texas has
learned the hard way to be very careful."
"How did Timothy take it?" I asked.
"About like you would expect. He is very discouraged. It got worse when
brother Chupco told him that before any of that process could begin, the
congregation as a whole would have to come to agreement on if it was
God's will for us to get involved in this way and then how our
intervention would work out as a practical matter."
"What is 'a practical matter'?" Elizabeth asked.
"Well, remember what they told Timothy's mom. They could have him back,
but only under the conditions that they let him pretend to be a girl and
get help becoming one. If that's their conditions then the entire
congregation has to agree, or whatever family takes him could very well
split the church."
"Wait," said Hannah. "What? How?"
"It's not a question of just voting," Nathan said. "The only thing
holding a congregation together in most instances is a willingness of
the people to stick together. If something comes up, a majority could
decide one way, but the minority does not have to accept the decision.
They can simply stop coming. They scatter to other churches more
amenable to their views, form their own church, or stop going to church
altogether."
"And usually," I pointed out, remembering our experiences, and one of
the reasons Nathan wasn't actively pastoring at this time, "the minority
gossips and complains and backbites, trying to get the majority to
change their minds or get rid of the pastor for quite some time before
they do leave."
"So, if Mark wanted to wear a dress to church, and everyone in the
church voted for it, it would be okay?" Josiah said with a grin.
"Hey, watch it!" Mark yelled and punched Josiah in the arm.
"No, it would not be okay," Nathan said firmly. "Mark belongs to me and
your mother. Timothy, it seems, is now property of the state."
"Well if Texas owns him, why do we even need to bother with him," Hannah
stated. "Why don't we just let Texas figure him out?"
I looked at Nathan, and he looked at me. He took a deep breath and
looked at Hannah. "I have become all things to all men, that I might by
all means save some," Nathan quoted.
"Oh," was all she said.
By then supper was ready, so Hannah helped me dish everything out.
Nathan returned thanks, and we began eating.
"How did the second meeting go?" I asked after everyone had taken a few
bites.
"Pastor just kind of interviewed Timothy," Nathan said.
"Really?"
"Yeah, he said to both of us that he really had had no experience with
anyone like Timothy and was truly curious as to what his motivation
was."
"What did he say?"
"Pretty much what he told us, that from as far back as he could remember
he had felt like a girl inside."
"How do you argue with that?" I asked. "Since you are the only one
inside your body with you, no one outside your body can feel what you
feel or know what you know about yourself."
"He didn't try to argue with Timothy. He said something about assuming
that Timothy wasn't talking about how his stomach or kidneys or even his
brain felt but was referring to his mind or soul. Timothy readily agreed
to that. Pastor then said that unless Timothy thought of himself as
nothing more than a biological machine, nothing more or less than matter
in motion, he wasn't basing his feelings on the physical but upon the
spiritual when he talked about his mind or soul."
I could see from the way Mark and Josiah were focused on their meal that
our conversation had already gone over their heads. The girls were still
watching their father, but I could see the glaze starting to form on the
eyes of Sarah and Elizabeth. Only Hannah was still concentrating.
"Did Timothy agree with that?" I asked.
"Yes, readily," Nathan replied. "But then brother Chupco said something
that would have never occurred to me. 'I freely admit,' he said 'that it
is impossible for me to understand your soul since it is completely
invisible and inaccessible to me. I know what it means to feel like a
man on the inside, but having never been a woman, I have absolutely no
idea what it means to feel like a woman on the inside. I know my wife
better than anyone else in the world. I know she is very, very different
from me, but at the same time we fit each other perfectly. So, the
question I have for you is how do you know that your feelings are true?
How do you know that the feelings you have are those of a woman?'"
Nathan paused to take another bite and chew for a while.
"So, what did he say?" Hannah asked.
"I just told you what he said," Nathan replied and drank some water.
"No! What did Timothy say?"
"He said that he always felt like doing girl things. That's when Pastor
asked him if he meant things like being a doctor or lawyer or pilot or
astronaut or governor. Then Timothy said, 'No, I mean I want to do
things in a girl way, a womanly way.' Pastor said, 'you mean as in love,
joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness,
and self-control?'"
Both Hannah and I laughed out loud at that. Nathan had a grin on his
face. The other four looked up from their food in confusion.
"But Timothy didn't laugh," Nathan said after we had quieted down. "And
Pastor didn't try to embarrass him. He asked him about the theology
behind his decision, what he thought God thought of his desire to become
Skyla." He paused to cut some meat, fork it into his mouth, and chew.
Hannah raised both hands out in a well-we're-waiting expression.
"Timothy said he believed that God understood and left it at that.
Brother Chupco agreed that God certainly did understand everything, but
did Timothy think God looked with approval on what he intended, or did
God understand it to be sin. Timothy said it didn't matter."
"Didn't matter!" Hannah interrupted. "How can it not matter?"
"Hang on, I'm getting to it, but you will be happy to know that the
pastor asked much the same question, if in a far more conciliatory tone.
Anyway, according to Timothy, if it was a sin, Christ died for it. He
believed in Christ, so he was covered. If it wasn't a sin, then it just
didn't matter. He said he did not think it was a sin because he
personally had never felt any kind of guilt for his feelings."
We all sat in silence for a few seconds. I honestly felt the same shock
I had when I got my first glimpse of Timothy in his Skyla clothes in the
creek. It wasn't that Timothy believed that Christ died for the sins of
the world; everyone more or less believes that, but that he could take
the passion of the Christ, the God-Man, so casually that to him it was
nothing more than a cheap-grace fire insurance policy to be cashed in on
the off chance he might ever need it.
I happened to glance at Hannah at that moment and received yet another
shock. There were tears flowing down her cheeks. Elizabeth was already
patting her shoulder trying to comfort her.
"What's wrong Han?" Nathan asked.
"For him to think that way..." Hannah began in the tight-throat voice of
someone fighting to keep from crying. "Oh, Daddy, does that mean God has
given him over to a reprobate mind to do those things which are not
convenient?"
Nathan put his fork down and reached across the table, taking Hannah's
hand in his own. "I don't know, honey. Honestly, I don't."
"He's only 15!" The tears were really starting to flow.
"I know. I know," Nathan said.
"God can't have given up on him already, can He?"
"Listen to me," Nathan said. "Pastor Chupco was as moved by what Timothy
said as much as we are. That is why he is calling a special meeting of
the membership tomorrow at 2:00 p.m. Instead of our regular service, he
and I are going to present what we have learned about Timothy. The
membership will then discuss and pray about what we should decide to
do."
Like I said, today was almost normal.
Dani
- 19.02.2021
- 26
- 0
The Visitor Skyla s Diary Wednesday June 28
- 1 year ago
- 28
- 0
The Visitor Monica s Diary Monday June 26
- 2 years ago
- 33
- 0
