Sex In The Sanctuary. Lutishia Lovely
the answer was yes. She closed her eyes, opened the book, placed a finger on the page, opened her eyes and read the words beneath her finger. “Wherefore they are no more twain but one flesh. What God has joined together, let not man put asunder. Matthew 19:6.” The Bible fell out of Hope’s hands. She was taken aback, couldn’t believe where her finger had landed. But a clearer message could not have been received. She felt God Himself had spoken.
The next day, Hope felt a confidence and freedom with Shawn she’d never known before. Although she felt that sex before marriage was a sin, she became more and more amorous in her affections toward her husband-to-be. Not one to complain, Shawn embraced this new and improved Hope as a sign that finally she believed he loved her and in return, just maybe, she’d let him hit it.
Hope hadn’t planned it to happen. But after the Friday night services were over she, Shawn and another couple had gone out for a late dinner. This couple had just gotten engaged. Hope was elated for them. Hearing this news on the heels of her revelation that Shawn was to be her husband was further proof the season of marriage was here and her turn was coming. Shawn had given her thigh a little squeeze, and Hope squeezed right back, running her hand down to his knee and back up the inside of his thigh just beneath his manhood. She remembered almost touching it and jerking her hand away as if she’d touched a hot oven. At that very moment she thought of one of her grandmother’s sayings, “If you keep playing with fire, you gon’ get burnt.”
They’d gone back to his place, a two-bedroom apartment not far from the university campus they both attended. Shawn put on a Babyface CD. “I just love this song,” he whispered as he gathered Hope in his arms and began a sensual slow dance across the living room floor.
To this day, Hope didn’t remember exactly what happened next. It was like one minute they were dancing and the next minute she was in his bed, naked. It wasn’t the first time she and Shawn had fooled around, but she’d never taken all of her clothes off before. Lying next to him as he slowly outlined her body with the tips of his fingers, she recited in her mind the Scripture she’d read just days before. There was little resistance when he began kissing her mouth, eyes, ears, breast, and just a slight hesitation as he continued to tease her with his tongue down her stomach, hips, thighs…She covered her eyes then and was surprised to feel the weight of his physique when he covered her body with his own while placing his hand behind her knee and raising her leg in a slow, languid motion. She could feel him pressing against her and took her hands from her eyes, wrapping them around his strong muscled back and hugging him tightly. She didn’t remember a word being spoken, but she knew this time would be different. Shawn must have sensed it, too, because he continued gently, almost reverently, as if to make a hasty move might break the mood and change the atmosphere and Hope’s acquiescent mind. He grabbed his dick and rubbed it against her, higher at first and then lower and lower, positioning himself for entry. Could it be? he thought as a slight layer of perspiration broke out on his brow, and his heartbeat quickened. Suddenly Hope’s hand was against his chest.
“Shawn,” she whispered, a mixture of longing and fear in her voice, “do you love me?”
“With all my heart,” he answered. And the two became one.
Life had been heavenly after Hope gave herself to Shawn. She was sure that marriage was their relationship’s destiny, even though no date had been set or ring given. But the summer after Shawn’s graduation, several months into this new level of their relationship, Hope noticed a change in his behavior toward her. It was almost imperceptible at first, like a smell that you notice but can’t quite define. There were sudden and unexplainable mood swings. They spent more and more time apart. Hope grew worried and questioned Shawn about the way he was acting. He became agitated. She did, too. Hope had thought by now they’d be making wedding plans.
Summer passed. Shawn announced plans to relocate to Dallas and pursue a career in sports broadcasting. It wasn’t that Hope hadn’t known about his desire for such a career; she’d often encouraged it. It was the fact that she didn’t find out he actually had a job and was leaving until two weeks before he got on the plane.
The signs became even more glaring once he moved. For instance, he insisted she not come down, saying he needed to get settled first and focus on his career. When after two months she still wasn’t welcome, Hope asked if he was seeing someone else. He was, a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader named Tiffany. Hope never saw his apartment. Six months after this heartbreaking news and mere weeks after graduating from college with a degree in English, she moved to Kansas City.
Hope was sure she’d heard God this time. As soon as she put the wheels in motion to leave Tulsa and the experience with Shawn behind her, good things began to happen. She’d been devastated by their breakup, but was determined to move on with her life. Rather than pining away about a past that could not be changed, she threw her energy into creating a new, more favorable future. However, a lesson had been learned. Hope would not compromise her beliefs with another man. She wouldn’t get ahead of God. The next time she made love, she’d be married.
She’d barely put her resume on the Internet before receiving calls to schedule interviews. Then, as God would have it, a cousin she hadn’t seen in ten years and who was the assistant to a human resources director ran across her resume. A month later, she was putting her English degree to work as a copy editor for the city’s newspaper, the Kansas City Star.
It was this same cousin, Frieda Moore, who’d told her about Mount Zion. Hope had asked her about churches within days of her arrival. Although not a member, Frieda had attended Mount Zion with friends a few times and had enjoyed the new way they told an old story. The preacher was forty-ish and fine. And they had a band, a real live band that backed up the choir. “Sometimes,” Frieda had gushed enthusiastically, “it feels more like a party than church!” Hope had smiled at this comparison. A Holy Ghost party was right up her alley.
From the time Hope hit the steps of Mount Zion, she knew she’d found her church home. It wasn’t just the music, a wonderful blend of contemporary and classic gospel that was audible a block away from the church, but also the feeling that enveloped Hope the moment she parked her car and stepped into the parking lot. It was the smiles on the faces of the other people entering the sanctuary, the joy that pulsated up the steps and down the aisle as she entered. It was the courtesy and warmth that exuded from the usher as she placed a program in Hope’s hand and led her up the aisle. It was the hug from Sis. Wilma Stronghart who, upon finding out that she was a visitor, grabbed Hope and clutched her tight to her ample bosom, planted a loud smack of a kiss on her right cheek, leaving an apple red lipstick imprint, and said loudly, “Welcome, welcome, welcome!” It was First Lady Brook, affectionately known as Queen Bee, and the warm way she’d smiled as their eyes met after Hope stood and was welcomed to the services of the Zion family. And it was the pastor, King Brook, a man whose words seemed to come from the very mouth of God, who spoke from the depths of his spirit to the pit of her soul. She’d been amazed by his sermon on that first visit to Mount Zion. How it so resembled what she’d gone through that the sermon could have been titled “Hope’s Story.” So uncanny, she would have questioned her cousin about spreading her business, except that she hadn’t shared her business, especially the breakup, with Frieda.
Pastor King spoke on starting over. He talked about turning life’s page when one didn’t like the writing and beginning a new chapter. Hope tried to remain impassive as the pastor spoke of broken hearts and shattered dreams, and how with God, all could be made new. But her eyes filled with tears as she remembered past pain, including the callous way Shawn had told her about his new girlfriend. Hope’s parents’ divorce had been heartbreaking also. Scars remained, but the message encouraged Hope, confirmed that she could begin a new life, one filled with love and happiness. Pastor King promised, “The darkest hour is just before day.”
It was Hope’s daytime. When the invitation for membership was issued, when Pastor King asked if there was anyone who wanted to “progress with Mount Zion Progressive,” her legs had propelled her upward before her mind knew what was going on. The congregants in her row encouraged her forward. Several others joined her as she walked down the aisle. She’d felt the Holy Spirit so intensely her knees had almost given out as she made her way to the altar. She stood before the altar,