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Jeremy: So, you know what that means? God doesn’t condemn your friend. He forgives. But he calls her to stop engaging in that sinful activity. Whatever it is.
Melody felt suddenly weary of hiding who she was. So weary.
Melody: Its sex like I said. And just so we’re clear, that friend is me.
She stared bleakly at her screen. Would he respond? Or disappear permanently?
Jeremy: I know.
Melody sighed and let the phone slide out of her hand. Jeremy knew it all, now. Her poor writing skills. Her constant insecurities and doubts. Her past with an abusive mother. Her present tainted with lustful relationships. What could he possibly want to do with her now?
She picked her phone back up. No sense drawing this out.
Melody: If you’ve changed your mind about meeting and the wedding, I totally understand.
Jeremy: No way. Why would I have changed my mind?
He’d accepted her. Totally and completely. She let out a flabbergasted laugh. How was that even possible?
He wasn’t TJ. She loved TJ. But Jeremy might be the next best thing. He might be the best thing someone like her could get. So, she’d take him.
Melody: You’re really special, you know that Jeremy? I can’t wait to get to know you in person. I’ll think about what you said. About God, I mean. Maybe there’s something there. Until we meet I’ll be thinking of you and looking forward to seeing one of the sweetest men I’ve ever been privileged to know. – With love, Melody.
She didn’t normally sign off with her name when they were chatting. But she needed to let him know how much he meant to her. A lot.
Letting the phone slip from her grasp, she curled back into a ball, emotional exhaustion claiming her with swift strength. As she drifted off on the couch, still in her coat and hat, she thought of a God who loved unconditionally. It was too good to be true.
She knew that for certain when she jerked awake in the middle of the night, gasping at pain shooting across her lower midsection, radiating from her most inward parts. The parts that made her a woman.
“No,” she groaned, stumbling in the dark toward her bathroom. “Not now. Not this time.”
If God was real, he’d ditched her when she entered puberty in the sixth grade.
Chapter Ten
TJ didn’t condone his deceit. Not one iota. But he was glad for it tonight because it had given him another avenue to reach Melody when she needed him more than she knew. He slumped over in bed, his emotions one big tangle.
It was time to tell Melody he was Jeremy. But the notion utterly terrified him.
“God, I know I made this mess, but I am asking for your help to get me out of it without losing Melody. It might take a miracle. But in that case, I’m talking to the right guy. More than anything, though, I ask you to be close to her. Help her feel your love, Lord. I don’t think she has felt real love from anyone. She needs to feel it from you.”
Feeling a measure of peace, he closed his eyes and slept. In the morning, he spent extra time reading his Bible and praying. He felt the Spirit telling him he’d been a coward for too long. In all things.
Bravely, after a bowl of Corn Chex with chopped banana filled his belly, he opened his email account and hit the “compose” icon. The white expanse in front of him almost chased him away. But he began to type.
Dear Gary,
I have a manuscript I’d love for you to consider for Reliant Tidings Publishing. The genre is Christian fantasy, and the word count after my own edits is 110 thousand, which I understand to be within the acceptable range for the genre. You know from my work that you can expect a clean document, but I will appreciate any editorial feedback provided. You’ll find my synopsis attached. Please let me know if you would like to review the full manuscript.
Sincerely,
TJ Halverson
He read it once for typos as he always did, then added the subject line:Manuscript for review.
His stomach sloshed, like his breakfast wasn’t going over well, but he breathed a prayer and hit send. He stared in silence for a moment, then shot up from the table and did a fist-pumping, knee-kicking jig that would have Melody bent over with laughter.
He’d done it! He’d sent his first query letter. He’d chosen courage over fear. Risk over rejection. No matter if his own workplace didn’t want his novel. He would keep sending it to publishing houses and agents until someone did.
