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Chapter three
Far From A Loser
I paused in the parking lot to study the cars, looking for one I might recognize. It took a lot of nerve to come this far and I couldn't believe I was actually toting my little girl toward the door.
My heart beat rapidly as I placed my hand on the knob. I could feel the vibration from the music coming from inside the church and the singing sounded like an old-fashioned revival. No one could know how good it sounded to me.
Earlier that afternoon I heard the announcement over the radio. I was familiar with the church where the revival was being held. I was also aware of the surrounding churches that were sure to be participating. Tim and I had held meetings in many of them, I knew when I showed up alone, it was sure to confirm the circulating rumors. Yet, I desperately wanted to go.
I talked to myself earlier that day, while putting the finishing touches on a little frilly dress I was making for Kimberly. I told myself I had no reason to not go. Yet here I stood, one hand on the door while the other supported my little girl lying across my shoulder. For a split second, I almost wanted to giggle. To think, ministry had been my life, yet I now feel uncomfortable being seen in a service. Of all people, it’s me that’s standing in front of a country church struggling to find the strength to open the door.
I took a deep breath and with one forceful swing, it opened. It was a full house. A well-dressed man in the back immediately noticed me and quickly reached for a folding chair to seat me in the nearest available place which happened to be just inside the door. It seemed to be perfect. In the high-spirited atmosphere, I managed to pull it off.
My baby continued to sleep while I began trying to identify people from the backs of their heads. I spotted a pastor and his family that Tim and I held a revival for only weeks before he left me. Suddenly I noticed their daughter-in-law taking out her little girl. My eyes quickly scanned the room to predetermine the path she would take. My heart raced with terror as I realized she would walk right by me. I started to dash out the door, but it was too late. With my options exhausted, I proceeded to bury my face in the pink ruffle that fell over the shoulder of Kimberly's dress. She was lying in a perfect position to hide my identity. I focused my eyes on the floor in time to see two sets of feet passing by. I continued to hide my face as the tears began to slip from my eye. I longed to speak to her. There was nothing I needed more than a friend, but I found myself fearing questions for which I had no answers. Thus, I continued to remain lost in the crowd.
Soon the well-dressed man who had gotten my chair made his way to the platform. I realized he was the evangelist and as he proceeded with his sermon, I began to ponder my exit. As he closed his message, I gathered my child and slipped unnoticed out the door.
It was a lonely, winding road that took me back to town. I decided to break down and have a good cry. I thought of the times Tim told me I would be nothing without him. He said I would never have anything or be anybody if he had not married me. While driving down this country road, it all seemed to be true. . .
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