Chapter 1
Ministry of Courtship: Concetta Brown Meets The Homeboy
Through the threshold, our adversaries enter. The back door, a colloquialism, is a portal left ajar, inviting both divine and profane. Sometimes, it is the path to a woman's heart. A husband exits through the front, but a different male enters through the back. God condemns such practices, yet blesses that door. The Lord understands our human desires and blesses us, as He did with David, who transgressed for Bathsheba, and Joseph, who resisted Potiphar's wife, proving his innocence and ascending to greatness.
In the courtship of a beautiful woman, we, as a couple, left doors open that should have remained closed. Her mother, a woman who forced herself upon me, taught me to hide my true character from the eyes of men, though not from God. Created from the female, I fornicated with porn stars, feminists of sexuality, and casual friends of the opposite sex. Blessed by God, I escaped the diseases of sex, experiencing pleasures without consequences almost whole in spirit.
In 2017, my friend, a brother, tried to entice me into a sexual relationship with a woman. That woman’s name is Concetta Brown. He was unaware of Concetta Brown's presence in my life, and how I was caught in lust.
In the full nelson, I was inside her, asking, "Why can't I marry you?" She replied, "I only marry men for money." In our shared lust, I offered, "We can have all the world has to give, together."
I was a man living in my aunt's house, a Lexus in the driveway, finally having my 10 family members out the house in a residence I paid for. A man committed to family and brotherhood, I found myself in that full nelson with Concetta, pounding at the point of climax. She revealed, "I am married." I had opened the door, and the deed was done. I gave her something I could never retrieve.
I withdrew from her womb, and Concetta, satisfied, asked for more later. I responded, "There will be no later." I could see sorrow in her face but I said no peace. Almost granting forgiveness, still my words made her want to leave my family home. She departed, saying, "I should have told you, and I'm sorry."
Once she left I fell to my knees, praying to the Lord, pulling the hairs from my afro, leaving myself bald. I was a man wanting commitment, yet my I committed my sex to what was not mine. Broken in spirit, betrayed in faith, I was unhinged, wanting to know why.
I called her, seeking truth. "Concetta said, 'My husband has been deported back to Mexico. I don't want to divorce him; his family is trying to get him back home.'" I tried to explain its okay if you marry me but she said no.
I opened the door for her to betray me. In our first meeting, I had not asked about her moral values or her livelihood. When I inquired, "It can't be cheap. Baby, what kind of bucks are you pulling in to look so beautiful?" she did not answer of her current employment, saying instead, "I am a model transitioning from a porn star. My husband left me because of my life choices."
Concetta and I achieved the full nelson. Our heads bounced off the headboard. In the back seat of the Lexus in the Walmart parking lot, I almost forgave her until I discovered she was living in her car, parked next to mine. She later knocked on my door, begging for a place to stay. My door remained closed as I prayed on the other side, asking the Lord for clean STD test results.
To this day, I have not received dirty STD results. The Lord has blessed me with once in a life time experiences. Concetta, however, spent years living in the parking lot and caught an STD engaging in the same immoral behavior that made me break ties with her.
I went on to have relations with Concetta's brother's girlfriend, who broke up with him, saying, "Concetta has been engaging in incest with my man." Hurt that someone I prospected as a wife and trophy could do such a thing I went home to pray.
Years have passed and I reflect on my homeboy, a brother trying to introduce me to this woman. He insisted I did not know her, saying, "You're in the house with no bitch all day. Call Concetta and get yourself some pussy." Full nelson and headboards he didn't know. He went on to say, "She is living in the Walmart parking lot; help her out, you can hit." He didn't know I put her there.
He didn't know I prayed for negative test results. When I asked, "Doesn't she have an STD?" He said, "Oh yeah, I was going to tell you that."
My homeboy, acting surprised when I punched him in the face and beat him with my aunt's fried chicken black skillet pan, said, "Stop hitting me, I should have told you, I should've told you!" I saw it as a weak man's play, trying to burn me. His motive was that I had sexual relations with his ex-girlfriend.
Me and my home boy We engaged in a years-long conflict, catching each other and fighting. I stabbed him; he pulled out a gun trying to kill me. I took his gun and used it on him. Another door I left open.
In the same year of 2017, I sought to open the door of salvation for our relationship, reaching out to Concetta's deported husband in hopes of finding resolution. He responded, "Mexico is better than America. There are so many beautiful women here. I have found the love of my life."
I countered, "But your wife loves you. She speaks of you as if she is waiting for your return."
He retorted, "She knew I never loved her. The marriage was just for the money."
His words offered no solace. I yearned for her to rise above his deceit and find a man who would keep her with our Lord. Yet, I could not force the truth. She had lied to me, and I struggled to forgive her. On her own she continued a lifestyle of self and mine is in family. Lying awake at night, I dreamed of her betrayal, echoing his words, "just for the money." I wished I never called him.
I lived days I wished were dreams, for if they were, all of God's children would be blessed with the experience of lust without the consequences of sin.
At a gas station, I encountered a community man, a hard worker and a devout Baptist. He approached me, saying, "Why didn't you tell me Concetta Brown was burning?" I was at a loss for words, not blessed with the Lord's tongue. I stammered, "I like Coca-Cola." In that exchange, I discovered he preferred grape soda. It pained my soul to see him return from the bathroom with tears in his eyes. That day, I bought his beverage.
Sexual encounters, though enticing, are not the surest path to marriage but rather a sacred journey within it. In the ministry of God's message, I met a woman who offered her body in faith; not in the faith of Jesus, nor in the faith of carnal desires, but in the faith of wearing the hijab to a God she reveres as the Most High. She equated herself to God in morality, declaring, "Curtis, we will not have sex before marriage, and wearing my headscarf is a gift to you because no other man will see me but you." She was not a woman without experience, nor was I, but she was a woman of truth. I closed doors to those who claimed to share my faith, for they disrespected what I knew to be holy in her.
In the realm of courtship, knowing a woman is the only option. I met a woman and her mother, but I did not find lust for the mother, for I saw earthly heaven in her daughter. Today was forever when I spent hours with the daughter yesterday, and in her presence, I awoke to minister the truth of an everlasting eternity. Today I speak truth to save others. I have spent days trying to impress the grace of scripture and my handsome nature upon the daughter. I do not know if this is love, but I pray it saves my fellow brothers and sisters of the African diaspora if I try. If I am wrong for opening that door that is a holy hill to die; my message of faith is to say try.
