Read My Soul Cries Out Online

Authors: Sherri L. Lewis

My Soul Cries Out (29 page)

BOOK: My Soul Cries Out
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54
“W
ell, ”well, well. If it isn't the prodigal daughter.”
I gave a polite nod. “Bishop.”
He held out his arms. Last thing I felt like doing was hugging him. For Kevin's sake, I did, and tried to keep a smile plastered on my face.
“I see Atlanta's been good to you. You look absolutely beautiful. I heard the reports, but it's better than I imagined.”
I didn't like the way he was looking at me. I don't know whether it was because I knew he was running an underground pedophile ring in his churches or because of the way he licked his lips as he looked me up and down. I walked over to the bed and held Kevin's hand.
“Hey, Bishop. Thanks for coming to see me,” Kevin said.
“Had to come check on my son. You feeling okay?”
“I'm fine, Bishop. They should be discharging me soon.”
“Good. I wanted to make sure I didn't need to call off the anniversary concert.”
I cleared my throat. “You should call it off anyway. Kevin's going to need some rest.”
“Monica, it's nice to know you're concerned about Kevin's well being all of a sudden.”
I clenched my fists.
OhLawdJesus, help me to hold my tongue.
He looked Kevin over. “Not a scratch. It's truly a miracle from God. What better way to thank Him but to do the concert? It'll show the enemy that even though he tried to kill you, he can't touch a man sold out for God. What a powerful testimony.”
Kevin nodded. “Yeah, I do need to give God the glory for saving my life. The concert can go ahead as scheduled.”
I stared at Kevin. Was he serious? “I thought we talked about you needing some time off to get some rest, Kevin.”
“Monica, I'm not sure you're in a position to know what Kevin needs right now. You've haven't seen him in how long?”
I turned with my hand on my hip. “Bishop, I—”
“What she means is,” Kevin slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him, “we've been talking about me taking some time off after the tour and going to Atlanta to recuperate.”
Bishop glared at me like I was his archenemy. He smiled at Kevin. “Sure, Kevin. Looks like God is finally answering our prayers.” He smiled like he was responsible for bringing us back together. “Why do you need to go to Atlanta, though? I would think Monica would want to come back here. Spend some time with her parents, time at the church.”
“I think Kevin needs to be where he can focus on relaxing.” Did he really think I was coming anywhere near his church?
“And what about the choir? You know people are coming to Love and Faith just to hear you. Are you going to walk away from your ministry as it's getting off the ground?”
“He's not walking away. Just taking a break so when he comes back, he can be refreshed and rejuvenated,” I said.
Kevin's eyes went back and forth between me and Bishop like he was watching a tennis match.
“Monica, when you left here, Kevin was a broken man. Through our time spent together, the Lord has begun to put the pieces back together. I know you're concerned about him because of this accident, but how do we know you won't hurt him all over again after the emotions have passed? I don't think he could survive that.”
I clenched my teeth. “You don't know anything about the pieces coming back together. If anything, he's fallen more apart. You don't know—”
“Monica, please.” Kevin pulled me to him and pressed his head into my stomach.
“Kevin.” I ran my fingers over his hair.
“Please, Monnie. I promise I will. Just not yet.” His voice was muffled against my shirt.
“Not yet, what?” Bishop Walker 's voice boomed.
I sat on the bed next to Kevin and took his hands in mine. “You can do this. You have to do this. Think of all the little ten-year-old and thirteen year-old boys at Love and Faith. Do it for them.”
Kevin gripped my hands tighter.
“I'm right here.”
“Would somebody like to tell me what's going on?” Bishop crossed his arms and gave me a stern look.
Kevin let out a deep breath. “Bishop Walker, you might want to pull up a chair. I . . . I need to tell you something.”
55
I
never saw a black man turn gray. At least not one still living and breathing. Bishop Walker's jaw locked permanently open, and probably for the first time in his life, he was speechless. He stared at Kevin while he told the story of what happened in his childhood.
When Kevin finished talking, silence filled the room. I was afraid of what Bishop Walker would say, more for Kevin's sake than anything else. Bishop finally stood up and walked over to the window, rubbing his hands together. A few times, he lifted a finger like he was going to say something, but stopped and shook his head. He finally came back over to the chair and sat down. “Monica, can I talk to Kevin alone for a few minutes?”
I looked at Kevin. He shook his head. “Whatever you need to say, you can say with her in the room.” Kevin squeezed my hand.
“All right, then. These are some very serious . . . um, allegations. I will have to . . . uh, look into the things you're saying and determine what actually happened.”
“What do you mean?” Kevin started blinking fast.
Bishop Walker took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair. “I can't go accusing these men of the things you just said. I need to talk to them first and get their side of the story. You can't expect me to—”
“You think I made it up? Why would I do something like that?” Kevin squeezed my hand so hard, my fingers turned purple.
“I'm not saying you made it up. Sometimes, when you're young and vulnerable, you can misinterpret certain things people might say or do—”
“How could I misinterpret another man sticking his—”
“Kevin!” I wrestled my hand out of his grip. I couldn't feel my fingers.
He looked at me then looked down at me massaging my hand. “Sorry, Monnie.”
“It's okay, Kevin.”
“No, I'm really sorry. You . . . you were right.”
He turned to Bishop Walker. “I want you to leave.”
“Kevin. I'm not saying—”
“I want you to leave. Now.”
“I can't believe you're letting her come between us. I've been there for you since you were a child and you let this—”
“Been there for me?” The vein in the middle of Kevin's forehead bulged. “Been there for me?”
I took Kevin's hands and looked into his eyes and said, “Bishop, I think it's time for you to leave. You can tell everyone that Kevin won't be able to do the anniversary concert because of the accident.”
Kevin held my intense gaze. “I won't be extending the tour either.”
Bishop Walker rubbed his hands together. “Okay . . . okay. I understand.” He put on a smile. “It's probably best if you get away for a while and get some rest. I know this tour has been long and taxing. I'll let the choir and everybody know that you'll be back in a month or so. In the meantime, I'll see about these . . . uh, issues you mentioned.”
Kevin never turned to look at Bishop. “I won't be back.”
Bishop Walker let out a long breath. “Don't make any rash decisions. Take some time to think about it. You don't want to throw away your whole musical career. We've worked hard to get you—”
Kevin finally turned to look Bishop in the eye. “I—won't—be—back.” He said it as if Bishop was deaf and just learning to read lips.
Bishop Walker 's lips tightened into a thin line. His eyes got that fiery look they had when he preached. “I'll tell you this. If you make any of these allegations against me or these men of God, you'll have a big lawsuit on your hands. Not that you'd be stupid enough to do that. What do you think your precious fans would do if they found out you were a homosexual? How do you think they'd react if it was rumored you had several affairs with men in every city on this tour? Or worse still, if we were to suddenly discover you'd been molesting young boys under your charge in the youth choir? Not only would your lose your superstar gospel singer status that
I
made possible, you might even end up in jail.”
The smile on Bishop Walker 's face was so sinister, I thought I was looking at the devil himself.
“No, I think you're smart enough to keep this to yourself. We can say you decided to relocate to one of our affiliate churches in Atlanta to reconcile with your wife. That way, God is glorified and no one has to get hurt.”
Bishop Walker stood and adjusted his tie. Neither Kevin nor I looked in his direction as he stormed out of the room.
56
T
here's nothing better than when God's hand is on something and He makes everything flow together perfectly. A few days after Kevin was released from the hospital, I flew back to Atlanta. When Kevin told the band he was moving to join me there, the trombone player, Jo-Jo, wanted to know if we'd consider selling him our house. He made us an offer that would give us a nice little profit, especially since we didn't have to pay a realtor.
When David found out Kevin was moving to Atlanta and that we were looking for an apartment for him while we worked on some marital issues, he said Kevin could move into his guest room until he and Nakia got married. We tried to say no, but David insisted. His only condition was that Kevin let him play the Triton every once in a while.
David's house was fully furnished, so we had to figure out what to do with our furniture. I wanted to get rid of it and start all over—there were too many memories associated with the house and our stuff. When we asked Jo-Jo if we could leave the furniture until we could move it into one of those monthly storage rental places, Jo-Jo asked if he could buy it. His fiancée had complained that he had to get rid of his bachelor pad décor, and he didn't feel like buying new furniture.
I flew back to help Kevin pack our personal stuff—books, instruments, pictures, and the kitchen stuff. We fit most of it in the Ford Excursion Kevin bought not long after the album was released. I thought it was excessive, but he said it was perfect when he and the band had to go somewhere, because most of them could fit in one vehicle. Every time he mentioned the band, he got this sad look in his eyes. I was glad he already had some friends in Atlanta to make the transition smoother.
When we had everything packed in the truck and were ready to leave, Kevin handed me the keys. “Feel like driving?”
“This big ol' bus? Not really. Why you want me to drive?”
He held up my copy of
Touching a Dead Man
. “Thought I might do some reading.”
“Where'd you get that?”
“Come on, Monnie. You're not exactly subtle. You left it on my nightstand, then on the coffee table, and then in the bathroom. You telling me it walked to all those different places?”
“Maybe I was dropping little hints. I want you to read it because you want to read it, not because I want you to read it.”
“Yeah, right. That's why I finally found it on my keyboard yesterday, huh?”
I laughed. “You got me. I think it will help us. Just read the first chapter and tell me what you think. If you don't like it, you don't have to finish it, and I won't bring it up again,” I lied.
He took my hand. “I'm going to read it cover to cover. I'm committed to doing whatever I have to do to make our marriage work.”
I kissed him. “Thanks, baby. Me too.”
We got in the truck and drove away from our life in D.C. to start our new life in Atlanta.
57
“M
onica? Kevin? Nice to finally meet you. I'm Derrick Ford, and this is my wife, Dana. Please come on in.”
I was nervous when I called to make an appointment with Pastor Ford, the author of
Touching a Dead Man.
I actually talked to his wife first. She was very gracious about offering help to me and Kevin. She made me feel at ease with discussing our situation. She told me she and her husband received many phone calls like ours, and always did whatever they could to help.
“Thank you for inviting us into your home.” I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans.
“Our pleasure. We're glad to meet you.” Dana Ford led us into the living room. It was elegantly decorated in burgundy and green. The furniture looked like Dana was knowledgeable when it came to antiques.
We sat down facing each other on their couch and loveseat. A young boy came toddling in and almost tripped over Pastor Ford's feet. He scooped him up and threw him up in the air and kissed him.
“How's my big boy doing?” He kissed his fat cheeks over and over until the boy squealed in delight. “Where's Daddy's hug?”
The little boy threw his arms open and wrapped them around his father's head and squeezed. “Daddee, Daddee.”
I watched Kevin watching the two of them. His eyes were filled with longing. I wondered if he had been as upset over the thought of not having kids as I was.
“Isaiah, come get your brother,” Pastor Ford called out.
A pre-teen boy came bounding into the living room. “Come here, Josh. What's up, baby brotha?” He stopped when he saw us. “Oh, I'm sorry.” He smoothed back his cornrows and looked at his father.
“Isaiah, this is Mr. and Mrs. Day.” Pastor Ford put his hand on his son's shoulder.
Isaiah shook our hands. “Nice to meet you.” He took his little brother in his arms and hoisted him up the stairs.
“Sorry about that.” Dana sat back down on the claw-footed couch.
“No problem. Your children are beautiful.” I smiled.
“Thank you. We have two more around here somewhere. Another son and one daughter.” I could tell Pastor Ford was proud of his brood.
“Three boys and a girl? That's perfect,” Kevin said.
“In your dreams, Kevin,” I said. “We're having three girls and maybe a boy.”
“Like you can control it.”
The Fords laughed at us. We all relaxed.
“I know you guys didn't come to talk about our kids. Why don't we open up with prayer?” Pastor Ford said.
We stood in a circle and held hands.
Pastor Ford prayed. “Dear Father, Thank You for this precious couple You brought to us. God, we consider it an honor that You would entrust them to us. Help us to speak into their lives, to give them the help and the insight they need. Father, we trust You for the regeneration process. Bring light where the enemy sought to bring darkness, life where he sought to bring death, and love where he sought to sow hate. Heal this man, God. Make him whole in every area of his life—mentally, emotionally, spiritually, sexually . . . send your anointing, Lord, to destroy every yoke. Heal this woman, God. Heal the pain this situation has caused. We commit these things to You in Jesus' name.”
I could tell from the prayer that I liked them already. It was drastically different from the prayer Bishop Walker prayed when we first went to see him.
Pastor Ford put his hands together. “Who wants to start?”
I looked at Kevin and he looked at me. We both started talking at the same time, then laughed nervously.
Dana smiled. “Monica, why don't you start?”
So I did. I talked about how I walked in on Kevin and Trey almost eighteen months ago, how it made me feel and how we split up. Kevin flinched and winced the entire time I talked. He took over and talked about what happened with Deacon Barnes and Pastor Hines. Not only were his eyes blinking fast, his leg bounced a mile a minute. Every once in a while, I squeezed his hand or put my hand on his knee to slow down his leg.
Pastor Ford said, “I don't know whether you read the book or not, but it sounds like our childhoods were very similar. Too similar. I want you to know I understand everything you've gone through. I know the damage that's been done to your heart and your mind. What I really want you to know is God has the power to heal you—completely. He can make you whole, and you can have a healthy relationship with your wife and your children-to-be. I'm a living example.”
Kevin nodded and stared at the floor.
Pastor Ford continued, “That being said, it's going to take a lot of hard work on your part, and a lot of love and patience on your wife's part.” He squeezed his wife's hand. “God had already brought me through a lot of the deliverance process by the time I met Dana, but her love completed my healing. I can tell you two love each other, just by watching you. Kevin, I know you love God because I've heard your music. Are you both willing to do what it takes to make this work?”
We looked at each other and nodded. Kevin reached for my hand.
Dana turned to me. “Monica, this will be a difficult process for you, too. I know you'll have a lot of questions and concerns. I've been through the process and have walked with other women as they've come through it. Anything you need to ask me, no matter how personal, even if it's about sex—especially if it's about sex—please ask me. I'm here for you.”
I nodded. Made a mental note to definitely talk about the sex thing.
Kevin leaned forward. “What do we need to do? How do I get delivered?”
Pastor Ford answered, “The first thing you have to understand is deliverance is a process. I went through the same thing you went through. Everybody laid hands on me and prayed for me and drowned me in olive oil and said I was delivered. When I got the feelings and thoughts again, I figured it didn't work. That's not true. Deliverance does happen immediately spiritually, but in terms of renewing your mind and receiving healing in your soul, that's where the process comes in. It's like getting saved. Your spirit man is instantly saved, but for your mind, will, and emotions, you still have to work out your soul's salvation. All those times you thought you were delivered, you actually were. You just hadn't done the rest of the work to make sure you were able to walk it out.”
Kevin nodded. It must have been a relief for someone to explain to him what he experienced all those years.
Pastor Ford said, “The first thing I'm going to recommend is that you enroll in my Lifelines class for men and women coming out of a lifestyle of homosexuality. Even though it's intense and grueling, you'll be a new man when you finish. It's once a week for six months.”
“I thought maybe we could meet one on one.” Kevin bit his lip.
“It's better meeting with others who are dealing with the same issues. You get to hear that you're not alone, and you may have the answer to someone else's deliverance and they may have the answer to yours. It's like a support group.”
“Yeah, but I don't . . . I didn't . . .”
“I think Kevin is concerned about his being well-known as a gospel musician. It might be difficult for him to participate in such a class,” Dana said.
Kevin nodded and looked at the floor again.
Pastor Ford rubbed his chin. “I understand your concern, Kevin. We try to create an atmosphere of trust, where everyone can feel like their life secrets are safe. You'd be surprised at who comes through the group—people in all spheres of society who also have a lot to lose if the truth about their past were to come out. Many have just as much to lose as you do.”
Kevin didn't look convinced.
Pastor Ford continued, “When I first started this ministry, it was difficult for me to step up to this platform. When I thought about how many people suffered because of my silence, I realized how selfish it was for me not to share what God had done for me. I sacrificed my own reputation so others could be healed. That's what the true love of God on the inside will make you do.”
Kevin's eyes widened like he was worried Pastor Ford was challenging him to do the same thing.
Pastor Ford smiled and held up his hands. “I'm not saying you have to do that. That's a personal decision you need to think long and hard about. A lot of Christians are particularly prejudiced against our past lives, and don't have the ability to love us in spite of, even though God does. They don't realize their judging us is just as much of a sin. Unfortunately, full healing in this area can't come until the church embraces us with the love of God, no matter what state we're in. Who knows how many souls have been lost to the kingdom of darkness because a saint wouldn't open their arms to someone struggling with their sexuality and love them whole?”
He squeezed Dana's hand and leaned closer to her. “That's why women like our wives are rare jewels. If we had more Danas and Monicas . . .”
I smiled. I didn't know if I was worthy to be placed in the same category as Dana, but at least I wanted to try.
Pastor Ford said, “The next class doesn't start for a few weeks. We can meet one-on-one for a while, and if you feel comfortable, you can join the class when it begins.”
Kevin nodded. I could tell he was relieved.
Pastor Ford continued, “You also need to get in a church where they teach the Word—some serious Word—that will bring you into a deeper place of intimacy with God.”
“The church we've found here is like that,” I said. I was glad Kevin enjoyed service when we went this past Sunday. He said he looked forward to sitting and being ministered to for a while.
“Also, you need some strong men of God in your life. Men who are willing to walk with you through this process. Who aren't threatened or afraid to be there for you. I'll be one of those men, but you need to be surrounded by them,” Pastor Ford said.
I said, “We have Khalil, my best friend's boyfriend, who is a minister and a walking Bible, and then there's David, the worship leader at the church.”
“Do they know about Kevin's struggle?” Pastor Ford asked.
Kevin looked at me.
“I didn't tell them anything.” I didn't think Alaysia had either.
Kevin looked back at Pastor Ford. “Do I have to tell them?”
“You don't have to, but it may help them to help you. They can pray for you and support you. It's up to you.”
“What if they . . .” Kevin shook his head. “What if David throws me out or if Khalil doesn't want to associate with me anymore?”
I squeezed his hand. “They won't.”
He looked at me. “You did.”
“Kevin, that was different. I walked in on you cheating on me. They're not married to you, and they won't be seeing what I saw.”
Kevin's leg started bouncing again. “I don't know about this . . .”
“You don't have to decide right now. Just pray about it and see what God says. He knows whether your friends can handle it and how they'll respond,” Pastor Ford said.
He turned to me. “Monica, you're going to have to reach down and forgive Kevin for betraying your love and trust.”
“I have forgiven him.”
“That's not what your eyes said a minute ago. I know you've forgiven him to a large extent, otherwise you wouldn't be here. I'm just saying there might be a tiny bit of bitterness and resentment in a little crevice in your heart you haven't dealt with yet.”
I nodded. I gave Kevin's hand an apologetic squeeze.
“Lastly, Kevin, you may want to consider seeing a psychotherapist,” Pastor Ford said. “A lot happened to you at a young, vulnerable age that has molded the man you are today. It may hasten the process for you to augment everything else with some therapy. I can recommend a Christian therapist who's worked with a lot of the people who have gone through our class.”
Kevin furrowed his eyebrows. “Did you see one?”
“I wish I had. I think it would have made my process a lot easier.”
Kevin let out a deep breath. “Okay. If it'll help.”
“Good. I'll get you the number before you go. Sounds like we have a plan here. Let me say one more time, God is faithful, and He's already answered your prayers. I see your marriage healed, your ministry prospering, and beautiful children on the way. God has honored your desire to live upright before Him, Kevin, and your willingness to stand by your man, Monica. You guys are going to be just fine.”
As we stood and held hands in our closing prayer, I trusted God that his words were true.
BOOK: My Soul Cries Out
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