The Visitor Monica s Diary Sunday June 18
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The Visitor / Monica's Diary: Sunday, July 16 free porn video
The Visitor / Monica's Diary: Sunday, July 16
We were all moving a bit more slowly this morning than we usually do on a
Sunday. We'd had considerably less sleep than we normally get on a
Saturday night, and we hadn't had our customary time of preparation the
evening before the Lord's Day. We felt uneasy and as if we were somehow
running to catch up.
When we gathered for breakfast, the girls and I immediately noticed how
Timothy was dressed. We had expected the wig, another botched makeup job,
and one of the outfits his mom had purchased for him. He did have the wig
on, but no makeup, and he was wearing a skirt and top that we had bought
him. He'd walked to the table flat-footed in flip-flops as well.
He must have noticed us looking at him curiously. "What? I was tired,
okay." Timothy reached up and scratched his head through the wig.
"Besides, I figured your church would stone me in the parking lot if I
showed up with a painted face like what's-her-name in the Bible."
"Jezebel?" suggested Elizabeth. Hannah smiled but said nothing.
"Actually, Skyla," I said, "most of the women at church do wear makeup of
some kind; Pastor is wont to say that 'any old barn looks better with a
coat of paint."
"But I am blessed of God," Nathan interjected, "not to be married to any
old barn but to the loveliest of God's creation." The children grinned as
they always do when he says things like that, and I, as I always do, felt
myself blush.
Nathan prayed. We joined hands and sang the doxology. Nathan seated me,
and Mark the girls. Josiah made a move toward Timothy's place at the
table, but Timothy waved him off and sat down on his own. Our breakfast
was quieter than usual, even for a Sunday morning. All of us were
wondering and many of us were praying about what, if anything, these
little changes in Timothy's demeanor might mean.
It wasn't long before we found out. Though we were all dragging, we did
manage to leave for church at our usual time. Just when we thought all of
us, but Nathan, could doze off and catch up on some of the sleep we had
missed, Timothy asked a question.
"What exactly did Jesus say about transgender people?"
"What?" Nathan asked. I think we were all shaken out of our doze.
"Where'd that come from?"
"I was talking to Rod last night, before those creepies came over. He
said he knew that you all were giving me a hard time with your religion
and said he had a question that always worked with people like you. He
said Jesus never had a word to say against any of the LGBT and that all
the prejudice against them was put in the Bible years later after the
Church had come to power and was trying to run everybody's lives."
"And you accept Rod as an expert in church history, canonicity, and
textual criticism?" Nathan asked.
"He said you'd say something like that," Timothy answered, "but that I
should ignore that and see if you would or could give me a straight
answer about the words of Jesus himself." I noticed that Timothy's tone
was not belligerent this time. He didn't sound angry, but he did sound
like he wanted to know if there was an answer to that question.
"The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall
a man put on a woman's garment: for all that do so are abomination unto
the LORD thy God," Hannah quoted.
Timothy turned to her. "Jesus said that?"
"That's in Deuteronomy 22:5," Hannah answered.
"But that's the Old Testament. That's the Law; Jesus didn't say that, and
we don't keep the Law. We're not under the Law of Moses. Even I know
that."
"You're right," Hannah answered, flipping open her Bible and searching,
"but Jesus did say this:
Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not
come to destroy, but to fulfil. For verily I say unto you, till heaven
and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law,
till all be fulfilled. Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least
commandments, and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the
kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, the same shall
be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I say unto you, that except
your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and
Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.
"Well thanks for confusing me all the more," Timothy said. "According to
what you read, Jesus says we're supposed to keep the whole law, but you
don't; your family doesn't, and nobody in any church anywhere even
tries."
"The key phrase, Sky," Nathan said, "'was till all be fulfilled'. The
Bible says that 'Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to
everyone that believeth'. No one ever tried harder, before, or since, to
keep the law like the scribes and Pharisees did, but they failed. Jesus
said we have to be more righteous than they were if we are to enter
Heaven. Jesus is the only person to ever completely keep the Law of
Moses. He is the only person without sin who has ever walked the earth."
"I still don't get the connection," Timothy said.
"We're all of us just like you, Skyla," I said. "Each in our own visible
or invisible way is an abomination to God. It took only one sin, doing
one thing God said not to, and it wasn't something like murder or
adultery, merely the taste of the fruit of the one tree God put off
limits. That one sin destroyed all of the good that God had created. Why?
Because God is incomprehensibly holy. He cannot abide the presence of
even the slightest sin, much less the presence of any sinful person."
"Okay, okay I understand all that," Timothy said, holding his arms in the
air as if to fend us off. "I've heard it all my life. Jesus died for my
sins; I asked him to come into my heart; all my sins are forgiven. Got
it! That still doesn't explain everybody's hang up with me being
transgender. If it's a sin, and Christ paid for my sin, what difference
does it make how I live my life?"
I had turned in my seat to face Timothy while these exchanges were taking
place. I could not help noticing the children. To Josiah and Mark, this
was some kind of contest. Neither of them had ever successfully defied
their father. They were watching to see if maybe someone older might be
able to. Sarah had shrunk back into her seat. She disliked conflict of
any kind, and I could see that she wished it would all just go away, and
everybody be happy. Elizabeth had her head down and eyes closed, praying.
Hannah was looking for something in the Bible.
"What then? shall we sin, because we are not under the law, but under
grace? God forbid," Nathan quoted. "Sin is still sin, Skyla. Paid for or
not, we still have to confess our sins when we commit them."
"So it's a sin to be a woman?" Timothy asked.
"Only if you're a man," Hannah snapped.
"Where's it say that?" Timothy shot back.
"Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God?
Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor
effeminate," Hannah emphasized, "nor abusers of themselves with mankind,
nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners,
shall inherit the kingdom of God,"
"Are you saying that if I put on a dress I lose my salvation?"
"I'm saying that if you put on a dress, you probably never had salvation
in the first place."
"Oh yeah, right, like you never sin!" Timothy was shouting now. The boys
looked excited. Sarah had her hands over her face.
"Yes, I sin, every day, and I'm ashamed of my sin. That's why I confess
it. But you, you love your sin, and that's the difference between us." At
this point tears were flowing down Hannah's face followed in short order
by actual sobs.
"Why are you crying now? Why do you always cry?" Timothy shouted. When
Timothy said that, the boys looked at each other incredulously. Sarah
uncovered her face, and Elizabeth opened her eyes and looked up.
"I always wanted someone to look up to, the way Mom does Daddy," Hannah
sniffled. "I wanted a big brother who was strong and would take care of
us when Daddy is gone. When the Lord brought you to us, I thought maybe
God had answered my prayer, that He would deliver you from this sin and
make you part of our family. But you just get worse and worse." With
that, Hannah closed her Bible, closed her eyes, and turned away from him.
Josiah looked confused, glancing back and forth between Mark and Timothy
as if looking for some clue as to what his reaction should be. Mark was
watching Hannah as though he had never seen her before. Hannah's sisters
were both glaring at Timothy, as angry as I have ever seen them. And poor
Timothy actually looked like a man for once, like every man who has ever
fouled things up with a woman and has not the slightest idea as to what
he'd done or how he'd done it. In that silence, we rode the rest of the
way to church.
When we pulled into the parking lot at Grace Church, we mostly saw what
we always see, the same cars parked in roughly the same places. I guess
it's that way everywhere; people homestead their parking places the way
they homestead their pews. Everyone finds a rut and digs in for the
duration.
Nathan had just shut off the engine in our particular rut, when we heard
Mark's voice. "Is that Rachel's car?"
"What? Where?" I responded, looking around.
"Right there; behind us," Mark said, pointing across the parking lot. It
was her car. At least it was the same type of government vehicle with the
State of Texas markings and tag.
"I never expected to see her here," I said to Nathan.
"Maybe it's part of the ongoing background investigation," he answered.
"She's probably checking to see that we don't handle snakes or
something." He grinned. "We should probably be praying for her during the
service. She may not ever have heard the gospel before." I nodded, and we
all began exiting the Suburban.
When we were out, I noticed that there were two people in Rachel's car.
They exited their vehicle almost immediately. It was Rachel and Dr.
Olivia van Norfleet. I don't know if it was the expressions on their
faces or the way they were dressed--well tailored business
professional--that made them look like worship was the very last thing on
their minds. Whatever it was, my stomach felt like that point in the
roller coaster ride where the bottom suddenly drops out of everything and
you are plunged down screaming.
I turned to catch Nathan's eye and saw three police cars, speeding west,
suddenly turn into the church parking lot. The movement of our children's
heads made me look the opposite direction and see three more enter the
parking lot from the east. Quicker than it takes to tell, the vehicles
stopped at each end of the lot; a total of twelve officers got out and
closed in on us. I noticed a long gun in each group and both Rachel and
Olivia pointing at us. Needless to say, we froze in place.
As the officers drew closer, I could see that they were sheriff's
deputies. One of them addressed Nathan: "Are you Nathan Henson?"
"Yes, sir, I am," Nathan responded.
"Please step over here, away from your family."
Nathan complied. The girls clustered to me. The boys, on the other side
of the car, simply stared in open curiosity.
"Sir, may I see some identification."
"Certainly," Nathan replied. "It's in my right hip pocket and includes a
CHL."
"Is your weapon on you?"
"Yes, sir, four o'clock," Nathan replied.
"At church?"
"Yes, sir. It is my understanding that if there is no '30.06' sign
posted, or notification to the contrary in the church bulletin, it is
legal."
"And your pastor knows you carry a gun in church?"
"Yes, sir; he does," Nathan replied.
"We don't want another Waco here." The deputy's voice was stern.
"We don't either, officer," Pastor Chupco said from the front steps of
the church. Several men from the church stood with him. The other
deputies looked up and immediately repositioned themselves. "What I mean
is, I'm sure Mr. Henson will cooperate with you fully. Right, Nathan?"
"Certainly, Pastor," Nathan answered and turned back to the deputy facing
him. "I will be happy to take my coat off, turn my back, and let you
remove any and everything you need to."
"Very well."
Nathan quickly shed his summer-weight sports jacket, raised his hands,
and turned his back to the deputy, who had another deputy remove Nathan's
revolver from its holster and his wallet from his pocket. When the items
had been handed to the lead deputy, he said: "Mr. Henson, please hold
your arms straight out from your side." Nathan did so, and the deputy who
had relieved him of his wallet and gun promptly handcuffed his arms
behind his back. "This is purely for your protection and ours, Mr.
Henson," the lead deputy said while the other patted my husband down.
The deputy then popped the cylinder from Nathan's revolver, dumped the
bullets onto the parking lot, and flipped the cylinder back into the
frame of the gun like some gangster in a bad movie. We all winced. My
husband had taught us all better than that. The deputy was about to jam
the weapon into his belt, when he appeared to notice the bullets on the
ground before him. He pulled the gun out again and looked it over.
"Where in the Sam Hill did you get a snubby in .45 Colt?" he asked.
"It was a long time ago," Nathan answered. "It fit our budget and my
hand. I don't think Taurus even makes them anymore."
"Nothing like shooting somebody and setting them on fire at the same
time," the deputy said, shaking his head. He put the gun back in his belt
and examined Nathan's wallet. He looked at every license, card, and
photo. Then he counted the money. "That's a lot of cash to be carrying
around. You wouldn't be selling drugs, now would you?"
"I'm a carpenter," Nathan said. "I do a lot of handy-man jobs. People pay
in cash or check. We try not to use any credit."
"Your wife armed too?"
"If she is, it will be the first time in her life."
The deputy looked at me sideways. I put my purse on the roof of the
Suburban and raised both hands.
"Yeah, well anybody could say he was a carpenter, and that's an awful lot
of cash," the deputy said. "You wouldn't object to us looking your
vehicle over would you? I can always get a search warrant."
"Do what you think best and legal, officer, I have no objections."
At some signal I didn't see, a couple of deputies hustled us away from
our car and into the middle of the parking lot, and three or four more
descended upon the Suburban. They proceeded to remove everything from the
glove box and console, remove the seats they could, as well as the tool
kit and spare tire from beneath the vehicle. Another deputy brought a dog
out of his unit and set him to sniffing everything inside and outside our
transportation. Nothing attracted his attention.
That's when I looked at the two women from FPS. They were paying more
attention to what was going on than the drug dog. Had they set this up?
But why would they? Was this, like Nathan had said, all somehow part of
our background investigation? None of it really made any sense until they
came over to where we were clustered.
"Skyla, come over here," Rachel ordered.
"Why?" Timothy asked.
"Deputy," Dr. van Norfleet said.
"Son, you either get over here now, or I come and get you, and I
guarantee you won't enjoy that."
Nathan looked at me, so I took Timothy's hand. It was moist, and he was
trembling. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me...," I whispered as I slowly
led him over to the two government officials.
When we got to where they were standing, the deputy moved in to remove my
hand from Timothy's. Rachel stepped forward and grabbed him by both his
arms. She hurried him away from me and then stood defiantly between us.
"I don't understand," I said.
"You have guns," Dr. van Norfleet stated.
"Yes," I said. That was obvious. The deputy was standing right there with
my husband's revolver stuck in his belt.
"That wasn't a question," Dr. van Norfleet said. "We know you have them.
We know you use them. We know you give children access to them. We know
one of your children fired a gun this past week." Her tone was that of a
prosecutor presenting irrefutable proof.
"I still don't understand," I said. "I mean we live way out in the
country. There are antelope, deer, rabbits, and squirrels for game. We
are miles and miles from the nearest neighbor, doctor, or peace officer
if we needed help. There are coyotes, the occasional wolf, and rattlers.
Why wouldn't we have firearms?" That's when I remembered Timothy letting
me read in his diary about Mark killing the rattle snake. When Rachel
came over later, she must have photographed the diary like she always
did. She told Dr. van Norfleet, who called a judge and notified the
sheriff's office.
"FPS does not allow our children to be placed in homes with guns," Dr.
van Norfleet said.
"I didn't know that," I replied. Nathan and I had been reading the many
pamphlets that FPS had sent us but had not seen anything at all about
firearms.
"It is in our policy manual. Rachel!" At the sound of her name, Rachel
produced an envelope from her satchel and handed it to me. It was
addressed to my husband and myself. I looked up at Dr. van Norfleet.
"That is your notice of termination."
"Termination?"
"Your relationship to Texas Family and Protective Services ends
immediately. You may no longer apply to us or be considered by us as fit
parents for the foster care program. All connections between you and the
juvenile, legal name Timothy Wesley Harp, are hereby severed. This person
is removed from your home, and neither you nor your husband may initiate
contact or communication with said juvenile. Rachel," Dr. van Norfleet
said again. And again, Rachel produced another document. "This is a court
order to that effect, violation of which puts you in contempt of court
and subject to arrest. I should warn you that if that happens, FPS will
charge you both with child abuse and seize your children for their own
protection. Do you understand?"
I really didn't. They were just words, terrible words to be sure, but I
was, for the moment, unable to comprehend how they could be. What had we
done that would merit such drastic action? Timothy apparently did
understand.
"No!" he shouted. He dashed past Rachel and stood behind me, his hand on
my shoulders as though I were some kind of shield. "Tell them I don't
want to leave. I don't want to go back to jail." The deputy made a move,
and so did the one standing by Nathan. The others tensed. Dr. van
Norfleet raised her hand in a motion that told them to stand fast.
"Skyla," Dr. van Norfleet said. "You don't have to be afraid. It's me,
Liv. I'm on your side, remember? I'm not going to let anything bad happen
to you."
"I don't want to go back to jail," he said again, his voice becoming
ragged. "I want to stay with them." I turned to him to take his hand
again and saw the children coming over as a group and gather around us.
"Oh, Skyla, don't worry about that." Liv's voice was soothing. "We've
found a family that will take you in just the way you are and will really
help you to become the person you were meant to be."
"What family? Who?" Timothy sounded frightened.
"It's a couple Bobbye told us about. You remember Bobbye, from Living-It-
Out. And you know Bailey. She lives with them, and two other girls just
like you. I think you met them last night."
"Cassidy and Bryliance?" Timothy asked.
"You do remember. How wonderful. Just think how nice it will be for you
to have three sisters to love you and help you in every way with your
development into the beautiful woman you are meant to be."
Two things happened at that point. The deputies, all of whom were within
earshot, began looking around; first at each other and then back and
forth between Liv and Timothy. The expressions on their faces registered
open disgust. That's when Josiah yelled out: "Stinky's already got three
sisters who love him."
"And two brothers!" Mark added. The children bunched in closer, each with
a hand touching Timothy. Nathan smiled, and so did the deputy guarding
him.
"If I may ask," I said, trying to remain calm, "what is the name of this
couple?"
"You may not ask," Liv replied. "Your association with us is at an end,
and this matter no longer concerns you."
"But it concerns me, and I want to know," Timothy spoke up.
"You don't know them, and I'm not going to reveal their names publicly,
not here and now anyway," 'Liv stated. Then she softened. "It's for their
protection and for yours. We want to protect all of you from harassment
by these, these gun people. Besides, they were at the party last night.
You met them, and they spoke very highly of you and your beauty."
I looked at Timothy and then at Nathan. I could see they were both trying
to remember a married couple that had interacted with him. The only one I
remembered hearing about was the very tall transwoman and the very short
transman, but they already had three kids of their own, and one of them
was an infant. There was no way that Bailey and the other two were living
with them, or if they were that that couple would want yet a seventh
mouth to feed.
"You mean you want me to live with two of those creepies?" Timothy asked.
He must have been referring to the guys Nathan said wore one item each of
feminine paraphernalia who had pawed Timothy so much that he had fled
back to my husband.
"Wait a minute!" I interrupted. "Bailey told us that she supported
herself as a sex worker." What if the other two, Bryliance and Cassidy,
were sex workers too? What did that make the two men who wanted to foster
Timothy, the men that so casually and immediately discarded their wigs
and purses? "Are you saying you want my son to live with two homosexuals
and a male prostitute?" I think I was shouting.
"Hold it right there, Mrs. Henson!" Dr. van Norfleet commanded. "I'll
have you know that same-sex marriage is a constitutional right in our
republic, and that that rant of yours borders on hate speech, which is
actionable, and a hate crime, which is an arrestable offense. We already
have your husband in custody. You can join him, in which case we will
gladly take care of your children, or you can submit to the rule of law
and all of you will be permitted to go back to your meaningless little
lives."
Then there was silence, while my heart was shredded by multiple fears.
The pause was broken when Nathan spoke directly to me. "Just because our
son is thrown into the Lion's den doesn't mean God can't yet deliver him
out of the mouth of the Lion. And just because he is cast into the fiery
furnace doesn't mean that God can't yet quench the flames. God knows we
love him and how much. He is still the Sovereign of the universe, and
'shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?'" Then he turned to the
deputy in charge. "We will comply with the law and obey the terms of the
court order, but may God have mercy on your soul for doing this." The
deputy nodded and motioned Nathan's guard to release his handcuffs.
For once, Timothy did not collapse in tears. Instead, he hugged me hard.
"Thanks for, you know."
"I know," I said.
He turned to Sarah and Elizabeth and hugged each of them. Both were
crying. He looked at Hannah. "I'm sorry for who I am and for what I am,"
he said. "Most of all, I'm sorry for disappointing you."
"God knows what He's doing," Hannah answered. "I'll pray for you every
day."
"You go get 'em, Stinky," Josiah said, punching Timothy in the arm.
"Yeah, Stinks, don't take nothing off nobody," Mark added.
By this time, Nathan had retrieved all of his possessions and joined us.
"You know, you could be a free man when you turn 18," he said, extending
his hand out to Timothy.
"Really?" Timothy answered.
"Really," Nathan answered. Texas will consider you an adult, and you can
come and go as you please. In fact, they will insist upon it."
"So I could, you know...?" Timothy's voice was almost a whisper as he
glanced over at the government agents observing him.
"We'll keep a lookout on Old Muddy," Nathan said, grasping Timothy's hand
and giving it a good shake.
And that's how our Skyla summer ended. We piled everything back into our
vehicle and attended services after Rachel and Olivia drove away with him
in their car. We came home to our Sunday afternoon and evening. It was
quieter than usual, with each of us more or less keeping to ourselves. I
knew I had to call Cynthia of course, and eventually did, but for the
moment I had to go into Skyla's room and sit for a while.
I found his diary, the one Liv had given him, lying among a pile of
school books on his little table. I thumbed through it. The guilt was
more than I could bear. This was the second time we had turned him over
to the authorities. I remembered his begging us not to do it the first
time and how it had turned out much as he said it would. I remembered
what his face looked like the first time we'd seen him in the hospital
and later the anger, the screaming, and the weeping.
"Did we do the right thing, Mama?" When I turned to look at Hannah, I saw
eyes as red and a face as tear-streaked as mine. What was the right
thing? Should we have hidden Skyla from everyone until he turned
eighteen. Our hearts weren't prepared for that, not that first day when
we were all more afraid of him than anything else. It was only after we
saw his suffering that God melted our hearts.
Should we have run him back to his parents in Austin? He wouldn't have
been able to declare himself transgender and wouldn't have become
entangled in the web of a government bureaucracy that imprisoned,
tortured, and ultimately hospitalized him all in the name of helping him.
But that would have simply handed him over to a father who despised him,
who would have placed him in another boys' ranch where he would have
suffered more of what had caused him to run away in the first place.
And Skyla's mother was no better. She did not love Timothy as her son,
but Skyla as a daughter substitute, and we had seen how, now that he was
older, Cynthia was becoming disenchanted and disappointed with the
plaything she had tried to create.
But what good had we done? Timothy had actually only lived with us for
thirteen days. Thirteen days; what difference could that possibly make? I
found myself wondering if those men at the Alamo asked themselves that
when on the morning of the 13th day, they saw their enemy swarm over the
north wall and put an end to everything.
"We tried to love him," I said. "I think we all did, as best we knew how.
And we tried to speak the truth in love, as best we understand it..."
Here I paused.
"But?" Hannah asked.
"But," I remembered, "the secret things belong unto the LORD our God: but
those things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children
forever, that we may do all the words of this law."
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"None of us can know everything--not you, not me, not Skyla--we can only do
what we think we know and pray that we did no harm."
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