by H.H. Fowler
Chapter Eight
That evening when I got home, I dropped my keys and handbag on the coffee table and dragged myself to the bathroom to take a cold shower. Waves of disbelief lingered in my thoughts as I constantly took in deep breaths to regain my equilibrium. Should I make Taj out to be the bad guy for the way he’d forced his tongue into my mouth? I don’t know, because part of me desperately wanted to give in to his advances. And although I’d briefly entertained the idea of calling Jennifer to tell her about the incident, I backed out, because I knew in my heart that would make me a hypocrite. Had I listened to that still, small voice in my head by referring Taj to another real estate agent, he and I wouldn’t have had any time to be alone in the first instance.
A heavy layer of conviction was upon me and no matter how much I asked God to forgive me, I couldn’t shake it. Maybe it was because an image of Taj hungrily attacking my lips had etched itself deep within my brain, rewinding over and over again like a galling scratched record. I felt unworthy and out of sync with the moral standards I’d set for myself. That was one of the reasons why I shied away from discussions that focused too much on sex because the only thing those discussions did was awaken the prurient desires of the flesh.
I took off my clothes and examined my almond skin in the mirror. It was flushed and I could only assume it was because of the adrenaline that had been pumping through my veins. I then closed my eyes, wanting to continue my mournful discourse with God. This was an extremely difficult battle for me because there was a real attraction to Taj, hidden beneath all of my efforts to do the right thing. I knew I did not possess the strength to resist that man. Oh dear God, what do I do in a situation like this?
I was about to proceed to the bathroom when I saw a headline flash across my small flat screen TV. Usually, I kept my TV stations locked on TBN or some other gospel station to help maintain a godly atmosphere. But as I studied the headline, which succinctly read, Bishop Errol Jackson’s Testimony, I became immediately interested when the bishop began speaking about his fall from grace.
“I was invited to preach for a week-long revival in Bliss Haven,” he began, “and having made it to the end of the revival, I was physically and emotionally drained. I was resting in the office of the pastor who’d invited me to preach, when I noticed the door to the office rattle open. And to make a long story short, in walked a beautiful young girl who was sixteen years old at the time. I was asked by this pastor to sit and counsel the young girl, who obviously looked as if she had a whole lot going on in her life. Against my better judgment, I eventually agreed to counsel her – just me and her in the privacy of the office. That was my first mistake.”
“I’d always prided myself on being one of the few good preachers whose reputation had remained intact. So, even though I was physically tired and there were no other witnesses in the office, I figured that I had the spiritual strength to proceed. That assumption was my second mistake. And my third was the deadliest of them all, which was to allow my eyes to linger on that striking creature standing in front of me. Before I move on, I would like to share a side note. God gives us signs or ways of escape to overcome our temptations – no matter the severity of that moment. But often times, we ignore these signs and gradually follow the dictates of our flesh.”
“In a nutshell, 1 Corinthians 10:13 lets us know that carnal desires gain momentum by indulgence. Therefore, we should be vigilant to cut these desires at the root the moment they arise. We will not fall prey to temptation if we cleave to God and to what His word says. I knew this in theory, but when I was faced with the ultimate trial of life, I failed miserably. And here I am, after one year of being restored, showing others from experience how to avoid the unsuspecting traps of the devil. And I dare not say that the devil made me do it. I was driven away by my own lust…”
After an additional fifteen minutes of focusing on the bishop’s testimony, the camera switched to the emcee who was hosting one of TBN’s live specials. He stared in the camera with a reverent expression and said, “If you would like to find out more about Bishop Jackson’s testimony, you can purchase a copy of his book, Don’t Blame the Devil by calling the number at the bottom of your screen. Or you can go to his website at www.BisErrolJackson.org. He will be hosting a three-night crusade at the Hilton Hotel, giving a detailed exegesis on 1John 2:16. You can also tune in to TBN between the hours of 8:00 and 10:00 Friday evening, as Bishop Jackson will be streaming live into your homes…”
I quickly reached for a pen and scribbled the information on a book I had resting on my nightstand. The only other thing I could have done at that point was to look up to heaven and thank God for sending the exact message I needed to hear.