A continuation of my attempt to finish a book I started in December 2017. Posting chapters in an attempt to organize it all and finish.

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By this time I was completely committed. I was in rotation for doing childcare at the church on Mondays, Saturdays, and Sundays. I was part of the cleaning team on some Saturdays and Sundays. Tried to participate with the setup crews after almost every service I attended. “Ushered” a couple times a week. Sorted and prepared donations for an annual event. Helped out and “served” in many other one-off roles. All while going to church more days of the week than not.

Part of it was that I was so grateful to have found this church “family”. It was the biggest sense of community that I’d probably ever encountered. Certainly in a many years. But there was also an element of me being afraid to say no. I was trying really hard to “lay down my life” and not be “worldly”. Not be in “my flesh”. I wanted God to bless me and ironically I didn’t want any selfishness to get in the way of that. This meant I would pretty much say yes to anything and everything. In hindsight, progressively replacing my feelings with rhetoric.

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Every year Paula picked a group of women to speak on Monday nights during the summer. She picked me to speak in July 2013. I said yes even though I was painfully shy.

Which was why I was a bit perplexed when Ron referred to me twice as a pitbull when he promoted my upcoming talk on his radio program and during a church meeting prior to that Monday night. What an interesting choice of words. I wondered if it was a backhanded compliment because I couldn’t think of any other women who were referred to with similar connotations. But unbeknownst to him, pitbulls were my favorite breed of dog, so I embraced the reference as hopefully proof that my dedication to Jesus was accurately being seen as very serious. In any event, it was crystal clear that as much as I aimed for attaining the character of a Proverbs 31 woman, I was obviously not being routinely mistaken for submissive housewife material. Or marriage.

So leading up to my talk, I decided that I would go the intellectual route in order to piously take the spotlight off myself and “give the glory to God”. I prepared a very verse-heavy study to deliver. Worthy of the approval of the best Bible-thumpers. Certainly not entertaining, but I didn’t care; the goal was to save souls. Right?

But two hours before the talk, I got hit by a barrage of repeated thoughts that I attributed to Spirit encouraging me to scrap my whole prepared study and instead tell some of my personal story. I argued with God those full two hours. I didn’t want the focus on me.

I also didn’t want to get that personal with people. If they knew me then they could hurt me. It seemed much safer and thus smarter to squawk down at people from my fully built up and barricaded tower of self-sufficiency masquerading as a well-meaning but still pretentious performance of piety. You fear your failures will distract away from the message. Not realizing that by attempting to hide your humanness, you are missing out on the opportunity to extend hope far beyond a vocal minority of religious zealots. We mistakenly think it is the success story that people are looking for. Completely skipping over all that is much more relatable in between.

Jesus’ words brought to mind finally convinced me, “Go home to your friends, and tell them what great things the Lord has done for you, and how He has had compassion on you.” So I went to the church completely unprepared. With my original study in hand, but resigned to try to open up publicly for the first time. Zero confidence and full of fear.

I was actually hiding out in the cleaning/storage room when I heard Paula looking for me. The conversation went not exactly but also basically something like this:

“Sarah, are you in there?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do you feel like you want to throw up?”

Me holding back tears, “Yes ma’am.”

“It’s okay; that’s normal. Come on out here; Jesus has you.”

And so I didn’t run out of the building. I begged God to help me and I pulled myself together enough to make it up to the podium. Welcomed by a suprising chorus of several “Go, Sarah!” cheers and whoops most likely spurred on by the lively Rocio. 🙂

I tried to not look anyone in the eyes as I talked. It wasn’t until towards the end that I glanced at Paula and noticed she had even stopped taking notes. That hit me more than anything.

Because I wanted to connect with people. I wanted them to really get it. This true Hope that had kept me alive for all these years. That there was something actually real out there, out here. Someone. That they could depend on. That wouldn’t let them down like we are all so used to. Mostly unaware that we are so accustomed to accepting just enough to get by.

One of the biggest compliments someone has still ever given me is when Veronica commented on some personal experience I shared by saying that she wanted a relationship with God like she saw me communicating. That’s exactly why I share. So you will see me, just as I am, and hopefully know that the same is possible for you. I want you to be jealous not of me, but for yourself. And for those you love. I glory in my weaknesses, as much as I despise the shame, specifically to that effect: so you will know there is loads of Life, Love, and Hope continually yours for the taking. A never-ending extended invitation.

The last few minutes of the talk were in my opinion the best and most inspired. But my mind was so focused on encouraging others that I didn’t realize how much God was actually in the process of healing me. Because I was doing the things, right? I thought I had already arrived. I had no idea how much of a new journey in retrospect was only just beginning. I was ready to coast but God was gearing up.

Tish Rodriguez and I had started talking over many weeks about sheep. How Jesus relates to us. And she said something that has stuck with me all this time later. She talked about how when you are a baby Christian, God shines a big light in front of you so you can see where you are going. But as time goes by, that light in front of you shines to a smaller and smaller area. Eventually to where you might only be able to see the next step. It doesn’t feel good. You feel like God is abandoning you, but that’s not what is happening.

I knew she was right at the time, but I wasn’t happy about it. That was not a welcome realization for someone who tries valiantly to order life to be as predictable as possible. I thrive on patterns and formulas. I prefer control and resist ambiguity. I just didn’t understand how much that was impacting me. Spiritually, okay fine. But no, God was is not just going to leave any pieces of me behind in favor of religious and purely intellectual conformity.

I wish it wouldn’t have taken me all this long to stop fighting the process and even begin to really understand how the last few minutes of my talk all the way back then were the point of so much that has happened since:

“‘It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows for so He gives His beloved sleep’.

“It’s hard to leave a relationship when it’s the best that you’ve ever known and just trust that God’s gonna provide. Trust that He has love out there for you…

“The only thing is you have to lay down your ideas. You have to say, ‘Lord, I know that everything is for Your glory and You work everything for good. I may not understand it but I have to believe that. And I have to hold onto that.

“And I can’t grab onto those lies from the enemy that, ‘Oh, God’s not good. Look at this person, look at that person, look at this situation…’

“‘For thus says the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel: “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and confidence shall be your strength”‘ …Therefore the Lord will wait, that He may be gracious to you; and therefore He will be exalted, that He may have mercy on you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for Him. For the people shall dwell in Zion at Jerusalem; you shall weep no more. He will be very gracious to you at the sound of your cry; when He hears it, He will answer you.’

“I think that’s the good news… He doesn’t care what your resume is. He just wants you to read His resume. He’s not looking for a few good men. He’s just looking for people who are ‘crazy’, desperate, bold enough, courageous enough to believe how good He is. We just have to rest in that.”

A continuation of my attempt to finish a book I started in December 2017. Posting chapters in an attempt to organize it all and finish.

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Eventually I depleted all of my savings and the work I was doing wasn’t paying all of my bills. I was down to my last twenty dollars with no idea when I would be getting money again. And I needed to buy some food to eat.

My grandparents lived through The Great Depression. My grandfather even wrote a book about growing up in a mud basement house that was dug into the dirt out in Wyoming. My grandmother talked about reusing paper napkins.

And after my biological parents divorced, my mother had to make do on $500 a month for child “support” for two kids. Our big treat back then was going to Taco Bell on Fridays after we cleaned the house before she got home from work. She’s give us a $3 limit each and it was always an exercise in self-denial to decide what to order.

So if there was one thing that fear passed down to me, it was definitely how to survive on almost nothing. And as such, I didn’t initially think twice as I went through the Schertz H-E-B and filled my basked with the cheapest food I could find: Ramen noodles, peanut butter and jelly, etc.

As I was about to go check out, I felt like Spirit asked me, “Is that what you really want to eat?”

“Well, no. Of course not. But I only have twenty dollars to my name.”

I felt like God was encouraging me to spend as much of the money as I wanted to spend in order to get the food that I really wanted to eat. I felt like God was telling me that if I didn’t spend the money to get more nourishing food then I was putting my trust in the money versus putting my trust in Him.

I was actually mad about this. “You’re asking me to spend all of my money, God?!” So I kinda angrily went around the store putting the cheap food back and then buying all the food I really wanted. Spending almost all of my last twenty dollars.

I went back to where I was staying at Julie’s and then ate all of the delicious food and went to bed. I called it my last supper. Like right before Jesus was crucified. Or right before a person on death row is put to death. Because I had no idea when I’d have money to buy food again.

The next day my mother called me. She said she was cleaning up a pile of papers on her kitchen counter and found a check my grandparents had sent her for me months ago. She never told me about it until this phone call. And it had been sitting there all that time. She asked me if I wanted it. Of course!

The check was for $200! God “paid me back” ten-fold for the money I spent the previous night.

Just like Hagar, I knew that God had seen me. Just like Hagar, I also gave God a name that day: “The God of the Lost Birthday Checks”!

That experience did so much for me and continued to encourage me for years to come. Because I had a real experience with God! Something nobody could take from me even if I couldn’t explain it to them in a way they approved of. There was no arguing with me – I knew what I had experienced. Once I was blind, but then I could see.

No well-meaning sermon could ever touch that. I knew God was and is real! And loved me. And saw me! Cared for me! Personally!

---

I was working yesterday as I was thinking about posting that story as my next chapter. I pulled into a gas station and went inside to pay for my gas. An elderly homeless man approached me in the store. He very excitedly started telling me about something that happened to him.

He said that some people had robbed him. They had stolen all of his belongings from the camp site that he had meticulously setup and maintained. He expressed how he felt devastated and betrayed that these people took everything from him – even all his clothes.

But as he was standing at the ATM, he told me that he was walking by the gas station and God told him to check his balance in his bank account. Lo and behold there was $200 on his card that he hadn’t known was there.

I excused myself and went to pump my gas. As I was doing so, he again approached me at the gas pumps. Out of all the people at the busy store, out of all the people at the gas pumps. But still very respectful even as he seemed so insistent on communicating to me multiple times with great joy: “Ma’am, God was looking out for me. I am able to eat today and I have money left over in my pocket! Those people stole from me, but God was looking out for me. “

Just a coincidence running into this man?

A continuation of my attempt to finish a book I started in December 2017. Posting chapters in an attempt to organize it all and finish.

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One day I was talking on the phone to my brother. Animatedly communicating some great indignation I had endured. And expressing my desire that the offender reap significant consequences as punishment for their failure to spare me from pain and suffering.

I was taken aback when my brother replied in earnest shock, “Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you pray for them to get better?”

Here I am, the one who is “going to church” on Mondays, Wednesday, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Me, the one who aims to only listen to gospel and Christian music. Me, who tries to read the Bible and do studies every day. Me, who is devoted to abstinence and celibacy.

And my brother who hasn’t stepped in a church building in God knows how long. My brother who has smoked marijuana for decades. My brother who has enjoyed the company of multiple women without involving the legal system.

I immediately felt the gentle conviction of Spirit. Of course that was the answer. Of course God would want to nurse hurting and also hurtful people back to healing and wholeness.

But I was so hurt that I couldn’t see the path out of my pain towards that heart right then. It would take years before I could conceptualize how my experiences could still be validated while healing for all was pursued in favor of destruction as punishment. I didn’t realize then that my boundaries and the offenders’ restoration are not diametrically opposed objectives that require the elimination of one in order for the other to happen.

But my brother’s words sowed a seed that day that resonated for years. And continually resonates with me even still.

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Street witnessing wasn’t my thing. I wasn’t raised that way. To barge in on people and interrupt their day with unsolicited information. But I was determined to please God. And I thought I must not love people enough if I didn’t harass them out of hell. Basically.

Even so, I only went street witnessing a few times. Downtown around The Alamo.

One time I needed to use the bathroom while I was down there. Not the easiest thing to find when you’re downtown. So I wandered away from Alamo Plaza and ended up asking to use the restroom at the Christian Service Center. I remember feeling what I would now identify as shame when I went inside. Because they were actually doing something more than just talking at people. They were providing soldiers with a safe and welcoming place to relax and refresh.

But that concept really was too much for me to integrate into my frame of reference at the time. That would have involved reconfiguring so much of my life and challenging so many of my modes of operation. It was just too overwhelming to think through at the time. But it definitely planted a seed.

Unfortunately in the interim I just went back to doing what I knew to do: continue working away.

One time when I was downtown for street witnessing, Tusi and I were paired up together as partners for the day. She and I had similar backgrounds in that we had both been in relationships with women. And she was former military while I grew up in the military environment.

I really respected her, but at the time also felt an extra responsibility to encourage “my sister in Christ” to stay on the STRAIGHT and narrow. 😆 I never would have been able to admit it at the time, but that manifested intention was probably a projection of a significant sadness I diligently tried to deny: my own grief I deeply felt from leaving a woman I dearly loved in order to “follow Christ”. Maybe Tusi also, but I for sure was one who wanted to go back to the women I loved.

In any event, there we were in Alamo Plaza. Tusi and I. Me thinking I had to keep the whole world from falling apart.

So since I naturally hated approaching people, I invited Tusi to join me as I prayed for God to provide an “in”. Basically for God to open doors for us to walk through in order to organically tell people about Jesus. Because even then I still loathed the idea of being grouped in with the people who would arrive with loudspeakers and yell at everyone to get “saved”… Or else…

So after I prayed, Tusi and I went around and talked to a couple people. Nothing earth shattering, but thank God nothing super-cringe also.

But then Tusi saw a snow cone stand and said she wanted to go get a snow cone. I told her we needed to stay on task. My attitude was like, “Tusi, we are here to save people from hell. Not to eat snow cones.”

She stayed with me and we “witnessed” to a few more people. But whenever we weren’t talking to people, she kept talking to me about snow cones. Finally I relented. I basically communicated that I would be the valiant martyr and stand my ground at my post in The Alamo Plaza while she went to go get the snow cone that was so important. And no, don’t bring me one back. I don’t need a snow cone; I need people to not go to hell.

In my mind I was thinking, “Fine! Since your ‘flesh’ is getting in the way of ‘witnessing’, go get your stupid
snow cone.”

She, clearly unbothered, made a beeline for the snow cone stand. I stood there in the plaza trying to get refocused on the task at hand. Waiting for Tusi to return. But a lot of time went by and she still hadn’t returned. So I marched over with my pompous austerity to find her and bring her back to “work”.

Where did I finally locate her? Talking with the snow cone stand owner. When I walked up she, blissfully unaware of my audacity, excitedly introduced me to the snow cone owner and invited me to join them as she prayed for the owner’s business to be blessed and successful.

I immediately again felt the gentle conviction of Spirit. God, as only God can do, gave me a funny wakeup call that day. And I’ve been learning a lot along those lines since.

All from Tusi’s desire for a snow cone.

God participates with us just as we are. Not in spite of who we are. The pressure is off. Holy Spirit does the heavy lifting.

There is no condemnation.

“There remains therefore a rest for the people of God. For he who has entered His rest has himself also ceased from his works as God did from His. Let us therefore be diligent to enter that rest…” Hebrews 4

But I still insisted on doing several more laps around the desert.

A continuation of my attempt to finish a book I started in December 2017. Posting chapters in an attempt to organize it all and finish.

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I tried to go back to work. Because that would make sense, right?

I took the first job I could get, but I was really excited because I was hired on at the first Amazon facility in the area. And it was just down the road from Julie’s house.

I started thinking career-minded again. Even though it was a warehouse job and not what I had envisioned for my career, I decided to make the best of it. I was going to start humbly and then work my way up the ranks. There was even medical insurance that started on the first day. I was all gung-ho.

I had worked in a Dell warehouse in Austin when I was younger. So I wasn’t unfamiliar with working ten to twelve hours on concrete floors. But much to my surprise and great sadness, I physically couldn’t do it anymore.

The reason? Right before I moved to Julie’s, I was still living downtown and riding the bus to work. One day I was running late and thought I was going to miss the bus. I started walking really fast. And I thought Spirit was telling me that everything was going to be okay and that I didn’t have to rush. Specifically that I didn’t have to run. But I didn’t listen. Instead, I started running for the bus stop. Because that’s what made sense.

I felt the pop in my foot right when one of the bones broke. It was a small bone so it didn’t knock me off my feet. But I felt the pop and the pain. Yet I still kept running.

I made it to the bus stop with plenty of time to spare because the bus was also running late that day. Had I listened to Spirit and walked, I would have made it with time to spare. But I didn’t listen to God and now my foot was permanently broken and in pain.

I really didn’t have the luxury of thinking much of it because I didn’t have medical insurance at the time. So I never went to see a doctor about it because I could still limp along.

I didn’t really even notice how bad it was until I went to work for Amazon. The foot was okay for a little bit, but as the hours on the concrete floor wore on, the pain became unbearable. I was in tears. I went to the onsite doctor. I was advised to take the maximum dose for the over the counter pain relief medicine. But that had no effect; the pain was untouched by the pills. Like I had never taken them.

So I went to see my doctor. Actually one of the two doctors that run Malta Medical, the free medical clinic run by the church. Dr. Peter referred me out to get my foot x-rayed. Finally it was officially confirmed – my foot was broken. A fracture in one of the little bones that runs the top of the foot.

Dr. Peter told me that he could either prescribe stronger pain relievers or a medicine to block the nerve pain. But I was really scared of getting addicted to those medicines, so I decided to quit the Amazon job.

I cried when I quit the job. I felt so defeated. Why couldn’t I just get a job and work at it like a normal person? Why wasn’t anything working out for me? Was it a failure on my part? Or was God doing something?

---

I started looking for work again. I had an opportunity to make more money in an office setting.

But then a new opportunity came up again through the church. I think it was possibly Paula again who referred me. To a man named Jeff. He needed help with his wife who was in the last stages of a terminal illness. And he also wanted assistance with his business.

I was really conflicted about this. I preferred the office work, but I was starting to think that maybe I was wrong for thinking I needed money. Maybe that’s why everything was falling apart. Maybe I didn’t trust God enough. Maybe I wouldn’t get what I wanted unless I proved to God that I had more faith? I mean look at what had already happened.

So I turned down the job that paid enough to live on, and instead I started taking care of Jeff’s wife and trying to help with paperwork for his business.

Well, let’s just say that we were not on the same page in some major ways. I was trying to give them a break because they were navigating a terminal illness, but everything built up and culminated in me eventually quitting one day.

Jeff’s wife died I believe less than two weeks later. I didn’t blame myself. I was actually glad I stepped out of the way. That he was able to fully spend those last two weeks with his wife on a level he probably would not have if I had stayed on. I was thankful they got that time together without me in the picture.

I regretted turning down the well-paying job. I tried to go back and get it. But to no avail.

I blamed myself. I told myself that if I wasn’t so faithless and self-centered then things would have worked out with Jeff and all the previous jobs. If I could just “deny myself”, “pick up my cross”, and better “represent Christ”. I vowed again to work to measure up.

And started looking for work again.

A continuation of my attempt to finish a book I started in December 2017. Posting chapters in an attempt to organize it all and finish.

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I had really high expectations since my boss at the new job was a woman from the church. But things didn’t go smoothly. Attending the same church did not mean we were on the same page with everything else. But I was hopeful that things would eventually work out. And I was determined to stick it out especially since this was a connection with someone at the church.

That was my mindset when another church member called me one day while I was on my lunch break. She asked if I’d be available to start coming over to her house to watch her child full-time during the day.

Again, it didn’t make sense. This was someone I knew in passing but had never hung out with. I think the preacher may have referred me to her, even though he, like Paula, probably also knew I was working full-time.

Did these people think I had no life? I had to go to my job and work to pay my bills. Right?

So I told her no, that I wasn’t available. And that was that. Finished my lunch break and went back inside.

Or so I thought. To my surprise, my boss showed up immediately after I clocked back in from lunch. Without any prior conversations in this regard, she told me that she had decided that exact day would be my last day. That it wasn’t working out. And she offered for me to stay and finish the day or clock out immediately. I wasn’t really fired; there were never any formal write-ups. But that was my last day. Just like that.

I was in shock! What just happened?!

So I called back the other lady from church and told her that God must really love her because I no longer had a job and was now available to babysit full-time for her during the day.

What was God doing?!

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So I basically moved into this family’s house for awhile to help them out because there were special circumstances. Periodically I’d go back to Julie’s place; I technically still had a space there. But I was over at the other family’s house most of the time.

I had been saving up for a car of my own while I was working for money. But now my savings were going to pay my bills since I wasn’t really getting paid for all the time I was spending helping out this family. Which was fine with me in one sense because it seemed obvious to me that God wanted me there. So I was relying on God to provide. And it was supposed to be a short-term situation.

But right as things were wrapping up with them, the couple who had been so generously letting me use their car now needed it back I think to let a relative use it. Totally understandable. They had already gone above and beyond. But what was I going to do now with no car?

It was around this time that my mother decided to buy a new car. She asked me if I wanted to buy her old car. I told her I was interested but that I couldn’t afford to pay her anytime soon. I had blown through my savings and didn’t have full-time work yet.

Well, much to my surprise, she ended up basically just giving me the car instead of selling it to me. I felt bad about this; I wanted to pay her. But again, it was God showing off for me right when I needed it.

A continuation of my attempt to finish a book I started in December 2017. Posting chapters in an attempt to organize it all and finish.

—-

I heard the preacher, Ron, tell a story about how his Bible College education was paid for by a very rich man. As I heard it, the rich man said that as fast as he could shovel out the money, God would shovel more to him.

So there I am sitting in my cubicle at my corporate job and I prayed to God: “I want to be like that. Please make me the kind of person that you can trust with a lot of money.”

Well, right after I prayed that prayer, a coworker walked up to me and asked me for some pineapple I was eating. I told her that she couldn’t have any of my pineapple. Instead I gave her one of the packages of dried noodles that I kept in my desk.

Immediately the thought then entered my mind: “You want money to share with people and you won’t even share your pineapple?”

Then another thought immediately followed: “Sarah, you don’t even know how rich you already are.”

Instantly I felt like a total failure! I was weeping in my spirit, praying for forgiveness, praying for another chance. And as they say, the race was on… I jumped on the performance treadmill. I tried harder and harder and harder to prove myself. “Give me another chance, Lord. This time I’ll get it.”

My life then started taking a dramatic turn from what I had envisioned for myself. An adventure that is even ongoing all the way up through today.

—–

I was at church, talking to Paula, when a woman came over and asked Paula if she knew of anyone who needed a job. Paula pointed to me and said I needed a job. But I didn’t – I was already employed and Paula knew this. I felt so confused.

But by this time I was getting used to nudges from God. And again, this didn’t make any sense. But it was so specific. So I decided not to fight it. I.took the woman’s contact information and applied for the position she was looking to fill. Even though it wasn’t in a field that I was interested in. And I was sure I wouldn’t get hired because I had no experience in that field.

Well, much to my surprise, I was actually offered the job. But what should I do now? I already had a job. However, I was a contractor and the contract was eventually scheduled to end even though the date was, as I understood it, at least awhile out. I was actually hopeful that I’d transition from a contractor to being hired on for a permanent role. So I decided to be open and ask to speak with my boss before I said yes or no to this other position that I had been offered.

Well, when my boss heard what I wanted to talk to her about, she came over to my desk and said, “I was just on my way to tell you that your last day would be this week.”

God protected me! Showed off for me again! Provided a job out of nowhere for me. And didn’t give my boss the satisfaction of letting me go. (As she always seemed to single me out for poor treatment.) I beat her to the punch by only a few minutes.

I ended my time at that company and started the new position with the new company.

A continuation of my attempt to finish a book I started in December 2017. Posting chapters in an attempt to organize it all and finish.

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But first a story from right before I moved into Julie’s.

I was still living downtown. Taking the bus to work every weekday. And eating in the cafeteria at work for lunch most days.

So one day I’m downstairs, waiting in line to pay for my food, and I reach out to grab a cookie to add to my order. Suddenly a man next to me comments on my cookie purchase.

Now maybe you’re not a fat girl. Maybe you don’t understand the rules. So I’ll repeat them here just in case: if you see a fat girl buying a cookie, you’re not allowed to comment on that. 😆 Comment on anything else, but don’t comment on the cookie.

I hadn’t been paying any attention to him until he spoke to me. But I was irritated by him calling me out on my purchase. So from the hip I quickly responded with something sarcastic like, “Yes, I am maintaining my Olympic figure.” And then I waved my hand down my body as if to highlight all that was obvious to see.

The man responded, “Don’t you know that you are a child of God?”

Wha-wha-wha-what?! Come again? What did he just say to me? Who would just say something like that?

So he had my attention. I asked him what his name was. Solomon! His name was freaking Solomon. Of course his name is Solomon. How does this happen to me?!

So I told him my name was Sarah. And he responded with something like, “Oh yeah, from the Bible.” Yes, from the Bible. So now he has even more of my attention.

He walked with me to the elevator and by the time we got to my floor, he was already saying he wanted to reach out to talk more. It was only a short walk to my desk, but by the time I sat down and turned my computer back on, he was already messaging me.

Oh, and I forgot to mention he was F.I.N.E.!!! I mean GQ magazine fine. Smartly dressed. Muscular and a dream in many ways. Very dark-colored skin. I assumed and later confirmed that he was from Africa. And not just looks – he was also an engineer.

What could go wrong?

Well, for one, nobody that fine ever usually hits on me. Which he proceeded to do immediately after I returned to my desk. Within the first conversation, he was saying he wanted to take me to Africa. And inviting me to go with him on a trip out of state.

What a temptation! A beautiful strong man just rolling up on me like that.

But I’m not playing games. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know all I’ve been through. And more importantly he doesn’t know that I think God has told me that another man that I’ve never met yet is going to be my future husband – Mr. December 19th.

So I cut to the chase. And I quickly asked him if he was married. He said he was, but only because his wife was in Africa and they couldn’t get a divorce. How convenient. 🙄 So I told him I wasn’t interested.

But he still wanted to go out and talk. And it was probably how freaking fine and smooth he was that started messing with my mind. Making me look for any way this could work out. So I gave him my test: back then I had a test that I would give guys who approached me. It was a double-edged sword. It was intended to weed out the fakes from the real ones. And it went like this: if they asked me to go out, I’d say, “Sure, we can go out. But it has to be going to church.”

One guy I gave this test to responded by saying, “Shit! I’m not going to take you to church, but I’ll take you to Church’s Chicken.” 😆 Points for creativity and humor, but HELL NO. Hahaha.

Anyway, Solomon called my bluff. When I told him to meet me at church, he actually showed up!! How it played out was that I was sitting up front that day. As per usual. And Paula had been going around greeting people. When she came and sat down in her spot next to me, she leaned over and gave me a note she wrote that said something like, “Don’t turn around, but a Solomon is here to see you.”

I was SHOCKED! Never had a man actually taken me up on my test. Why did he come to church?! Lord?! What are You doing to me? This man is clearly off limits and not Mr. December 19th!?

The service ended and of course I immediately got up and scanned the room to look for him. I saw him as he was headed for the doors. I walked as fast as I could and finally caught up with him as he was getting into his car that was parked up front outside. He looked like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough! I don’t know, but I bet that sermon lit him on fire from the inside out.

I thought that would be it. I went back to my real life where fine dudes with Biblical names aren’t usually asking me to travel the world with them.

But then one day I was a few blocks away from the workplace and Mr. Slick and Smooth Solomon rolled up on me. In his black and clean Land Rover no less. Looking of course right out of a magazine ad again. And his first words? Something like, “Why are you leaving me crying for you?”

Oh my God. All I could do was laugh! It was so outrageous. This time I couldn’t let my hopes get up again; I wouldn’t. So I tried to shut him down ASAP.

But this time he even offered to pick me up from my house every day for work. And drop me off back at home so I wouldn’t have to take the bus anymore.

My poor ego. All these years. All these people. I’m sitting at the bus stop every day. Having to eat it as people look down on me over and over and over. As the rain soaks me. As the sun beats down on me. As the cold just rips into me. And this gorgeous man is offering to pick me up in his super fly blacked out Land Rover every day. I admit it took everything in me, but I turned him down.

And that was the end of that. Except I always tell people my theory is that he was just trying to steal me away to drug me and take one of my kidneys. 😂

But I was still holding out hope for Mr. December 19th.