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The Visitor: Monica's Diary, Sunday June 18 free porn video
The Visitor
Monica's Diary
Sunday, June 18
This morning, like every Sunday morning, began last night. I don't mean
the taking of baths, the laying out of clothes, and the getting to bed
early enough to get a good night's sleep merely. Saturday evening family
devotions are usually longer and call for more personal introspection than
most nights of the week. Nathan reads the Bible aloud--three chapters a
night and five on Sunday--and either explains or questions us about it as
he goes. Saturday evenings are longer because Nathan is rested and has
less pressure to get in bed, get up, and get gone than he usually does
during the rest of the week.
Then too we are preparing for the Lord's Day, and Nathan always admonishes
us to remember that it is a special time to be set aside and devoted to
glorifying God and worshipping Him alone. Everyone knows when we have to
be up, when we have breakfast, and when we have to leave. There is no
fussing about among the girls and no horsing around by the boys.
Everything is done "decently and in order." The children know that to
disobey their father is to dishonor us both, is to shorten their lives.
As a result of Nathan's leadership our drives through the countryside to
Grace Church in Amarillo are usually quiet and peaceful. It is a time for
searching our hearts, examining our motives, and preparing to receive the
word of God that will be taught and preached throughout the day.
This Sunday the drive felt different, like we were going to a job
interview or to an exam during finals week. It really did feel that the
course of our lives would change one way or another depending upon how the
membership of the congregation responded to what Pastor and Nathan would
say about Timothy and his now state-mandated situation.
The morning services went normally enough. Brother James continued
teaching through Revelation at ten o'clock and brother Chupco preached on
the next word in his Thesaurus of Salvation series at eleven. Those
families staying for the afternoon service/meeting at two unpacked their
coolers and picnic baskets in the Fellowship Hall and settled down to a
leisurely lunch.
As was routine for our congregation, the young people occupied their
corner and the little old ladies theirs, while the families with kids
occupied most of the rest of the space.
The conversation was as convivial as usual, but I could not help wondering
if this would be the last time all of us would meet together in such happy
fellowship.
Nathan had pastored churches much smaller than Grace from before Hannah
was born. We had seen more than one church split over such things as
music, order of worship, how often to celebrate the Lord's Supper. The
constant necessity to keep every member of the congregation not only
satisfied but happy wore on him to the point that he felt more like a
politician fishing for votes than a preacher fishing for souls.
Because Grace was so small, less than 40 people on the actual membership
roll, Pastor Chupco had adopted a system which so far had kept us united
in peace. Rather than work through a polity of elected elders and deacons,
the pastor would call a special meeting of all the men of the membership
to discuss any issue that might arise within the congregation. These
husbands and fathers would return to their families and talk things over
with their wives and adult children. These men would then get back to the
pastor directly with their family's feelings on the matter at hand. If
Pastor found the question dividing the congregation, it never came to a
vote. The matter was tabled, and alternative solutions quietly sought.
The question of Timothy was going to be handled differently, perhaps
because it was likely to have such a direct effect on every woman and
girl, member or not, in the congregation as a whole. Of course, it wasn't
as if we all didn't already know about Timothy and his situation. But very
few of us suspected just how personally we might become involved in his
life.
At five minutes until two, one of the boys rang the church bell, and we
all began gathering in the auditorium. I noticed immediately that not only
was the entire membership present, but almost everyone else who attended
Grace with any degree of regularity was there as well. These observers
might speak, the men anyway, but they could not vote. Not that there would
be any voting today anyway, I was sure.
As was his custom, Pastor Chupco did not conduct our business meeting from
the pulpit but from the floor in front of us. He opened with prayer for
wisdom, love, and unity. He then asked Nathan to come up and introduce the
subject of the meeting. Nathan briefly recounted how the boys had found
Timothy; how we had brought him home; and how Nathan had informed the
sheriff and Timothy's parents of his whereabouts. He then told them of our
visits to Timothy in jail and my conversations with Cynthia.
When Nathan sat down, Pastor summarized his impressions from the two
interviews he had had with Timothy. Then he opened his Bible and read:
"...ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea,
and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth."
He placed his Bible on one of the chairs on the front row before
continuing. "The Jews had nothing to do with the Samaritans. They would
not spend the night in Samaria. They would travel several miles around it
if they needed to go to Galilee from Judaea. Jesus did though. He ate and
drank with them and taught them. The Jews who became Christians on the Day
of Pentecost and the ones who came to the LORD when Peter and John healed
the lame man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple didn't want to go to
Samaria either. So, the Lord who commanded them to go to Samaria allowed a
persecution of the church in Jerusalem to drive them to those people."
He paused and looked around the room. "Why did He do this? For God so
loved the Samaritans that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever
believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life." He paused
again and very slowly said: "For God so loved the L-G-B-T-Q that he gave
his only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in him should not perish
but have everlasting life."
Pastor looked down at the floor for a few seconds and then back up at us.
"Show of hands; has God called any of you San Fransisco? Or led any of you
to Dallas or Houston or Austin to pass out tracts at the gay pride
parades?"
He pretended to look for hands. "No? You know He is fully capable of
taking away all we have and driving us to them, but he hasn't done that.
He has, if we truly believe in the providence of God, driven one of them
to us. God has given us an open door which we would never even seek to go
through if left to ourselves. He has given us poor beggars the opportunity
to show another poor beggar where to find bread."
We usually sit toward the back of the auditorium on the left-hand side.
From that vantage point I casually glanced around the room. We are not a
white-bread congregation, not entirely. We have hispanic people, black
people, a mixed-race family, even a Native American. We are fathers,
mothers, husbands, wives, widows, widowers, doctors, dentists, computer
geeks, engineers, carpenters, craftsmen, janitors, teachers, security
guards, businessmen, and retired people. I saw Dr. Duvall's hand go up.
There are three doctors Duvall in our congregation. Henry is a physician.
Jeanine, his wife, an optometrist. Their son, Luke, is a dentist. Their
family has been at Grace since before Pastor Chupco arrived. In fact, Mrs.
Chupco, Linda, had been a little girl in Jeanine's Sunday school class
back in the day. It was Henry who opened the discussion.
"What is it exactly that we as a congregation have an opportunity to do?"
Nathan rose to his feet. "Monica and I are praying about taking Timothy in
as a foster child, if the State of Texas gives its approval. If the
congregation gives its approval, we would be bringing him to church here
with us. The problem is that since he has declared himself to be
transgender, the state requires that we treat him as such."
"So, he'd be wearing a dress to church," Henry said with a crooked little
smile.
"That's why we need the congregation's permission before we even apply to
be foster parents," Nathan answered.
Andrea Bonds had turned to smile at me from across the aisle the moment
Nathan had mentioned taking Timothy in. We had been dear friends since
like forever, and she and Jonathan have five children just like we do.
"Isn't that kind of like asking for a papal indulgence?" Jonathan asked.
"You know, permission to sin in advance of the act; I'm referring to the
boy of course." Jonathan and Nathan were very close as well.
Pastor smiled. "Timothy doesn't know the LORD. How can he know that he is
displeasing Him? The Lord Jesus did not require the publicans and sinners
to give up their sins before He ate and drank with them. Our receiving him
here could be a door for the word of God to enter his life."
"But isn't his wanting to change his sex an indication that God has
already given him over to a reprobate mind?" We all turned in shock to the
person who had just spoken. It wasn't what he said that shocked us, as the
fact that he said anything at all. It was Andrew Winkler, a professional
accountant and the church's treasurer. To say that he is a man of few
words takes more words than I had ever heard him speak up to this point.
The only person more silent in our congregation is Mrs. Old Turtle, and
she's a full-blood Shawnee. All of us, including the pastor, just looked
at him, wondering as if at Old Faithful in Yellowstone, we might witness
yet another miracle of nature. Instead he sat down.
"It may very well be that God has given Timothy over to a reprobate mind,"
Pastor said, "but remember it is within the sovereign grace of God to
grant repentance. God gave Nebuchadnezzar over to a reprobate mind in
Daniel chapter 4; he lost his mind and became a virtual animal, and yet
God granted him repentance and restored not only his mind but his kingdom.
With God nothing is impossible."
That's when John Bell Hood stood up. None of us really knows for sure what
Mr. Hood does for a living, but it is something technical--he calls himself
a mechanic--and he is always being sent to Thailand or Morocco or who knows
where to do it. He is married to Paula, and they have four daughters. His
question was the one I was expecting. "While we are waiting for God to
grant him repentance, where is this young man going to go to the
bathroom?"
"We have one one-person unmarked bathroom," Pastor replied, "by the
nursery, across from our little library. He will go there and there only,
or he won't go anywhere. This congregation is not a 501(c)(3) organization
and therefore not a public corporation."
That made sense to me. We have the two clearly marked multi-person
bathrooms just off the auditorium and two clearly marked single-person
bathrooms adjacent to the fellowship hall. Timothy might not like it, but
at least he wouldn't have to go into a "men's room."
There were no more questions or comments. I looked around the
congregation. The children and young people seemed to be smirking more
than usual, but no one that I could see seemed angry or upset. That's when
the pastor closed the meeting. He advised everyone to go home and pray
about this personally. We would pray about it corporately on Wednesday
night with a view to voting next Sunday.
As we drove home, I turned to Nathan. "We're one step closer to you having
a third son. Happy Father's Day." He just smiled.
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