Change of Heart

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Pastor Dean Mitchell gripped the steering wheel and stared at the small church, sunlight gleaming off the stained-glass windows and brass handles of the double entrance doors. How many times in the five years that he had been youth pastor had he walked into God’s house…and used His own word against a frightened and confused flock?

Dean closed his eyes. “Forgive me, Father.” He’d lost count of how often he’d prayed those three simple words since his awakening. Perhaps he wouldn’t feel his forgiveness until he righted the wrong he’d done to these people.

He was scared. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that to himself or to God. The topic of his speech hadn’t been discussed with Pastor Bryant. No one would suspect this of him, and that was what he was counting on. If he told them the truth of why he had come back, he wouldn’t be allowed to speak. And he needed to speak. Needed them to hear.

Are you really here for them…or for yourself?

Dean opened his eyes. Tears were present and he blinked them back. The question frightened him. Coming home was meant to be an act of service to God, to the people he had hurt. Yet he feared the root of it was personal. He wanted to see…him. To find out what had become of him.

To convince him you were wrong and that he is perfect just the way he is.

Was it wrong to want that? He had been one of those whom Dean had damaged, he deserved the truth as well.

He sighed and continued to sit and stare at the church. Underneath it all, was he here for selfish purposes? In hopes of obtaining the very thing he had run away from two years ago? He trembled with the memory of that smile, those eyes…and what he had detected behind those eyes. What if he had stayed and not gone away? What would have happened?

Dean knew. He had known then, and that’s why he had packed up and left town. If it had happened then, it would have been detrimental to them both because neither their hearts nor their spirits were ready for it. But now? It was different for Dean now, but that didn’t mean it would be different for…

You have to do this. Get out of the car. Go inside. And tell them what you came here to say.

Releasing a slow, deep breath, Dean opened the door and climbed out. He stood for a moment in the warm sunshine, closed his eyes, and turned his face up to the sky. Lord, give me strength and courage. Guide my words.

“Pastor Mitchell?”

Dean flinched and for an instant thought he’d imagined that voice. He opened his eyes, blinked, and looked around, his gaze suddenly caught by those eyes. His heart immediately began to thump harder and faster. He swallowed, licked his lips, and smiled. “Nicholas.” His voice rasped and he cleared his throat. “Nicholas Blake.” His eyes darted to the pretty young woman at Nicholas’ side and his heart plummeted into quiet despair before he could catch it.

“Wow,” Nicholas’ smile widened. “It’s so good to see you again.” He came forward as Dean stepped from behind the door and closed it. Suddenly, he was smothered in the young man’s embrace and his heart went wild.

Dean hesitated them hugged him back—clung to him—then forced himself to let go when Nicholas withdrew a moment later. He couldn’t help but stare at the young man; his light-brown hair teased by the warm breeze, his soft handsome features slightly matured since the last time he saw him, and those blue-green eyes…like cool waters he longed to dive into.

“Are you all right, Pastor Mitchell?” Nicholas was looking at him and smiling.

“Uh, yeah.” Dean cleared his throat again and the three of them moved toward the concrete steps that led up to the church. “It’s just…it’s been a long time. You look…like you’re doing well.”

“I am.” Nicholas turned to the young woman and wrapped his arm around her affectionately. “This is Amanda Chambers.” He paused then added, “My fiancée.”

Dean blinked. “Fiancée? Uh…wow…congratulations.” He shook Nicholas’ hand. “That’s…that’s amazing. I’m really happy for you.”

Amanda shook his hand and smiled charmingly. “Thank you so much, pastor. Nicholas has told me so much about you and how much you helped him. You are a godsend.”

“Thank you.” Dean glanced at Nicholas. “But Nicholas did all the real work. I just…” Showed him the way? What was he supposed to say when he no longer believed he had done right by the young man?

“You’re too humble, Pastor Mitchell,” Nicholas chuckled softly. “You have no idea how much you helped me. I couldn’t have made it this far without your initial guidance and wisdom. Because of you, I am…healed. Freed from my sin and about to marry the most amazing woman in the world.” He hugged Amanda closer.

Amanda laughed lightly. Dean liked her. When he looked in her eyes, he saw God there. So, what did that mean? Nicholas seemed genuinely happy and content with his life, with his engagement. Confusion and uncertainty flooded through Dean; how could he walk in there and take back everything he’d given to Nicholas?

“Are you headed inside?” Nicholas nodded toward the church.

“Uh, yeah, in a minute.” Dean smiled. “Why don’t you two go on in and I’ll be in right away. Just feeling a little nervous,” he laughed quietly.

“No need to be nervous,” Nicholas assured. “Everyone is excited that you’re back. You’ve helped so many people.”

Dean sighed and nodded. “Thanks. That’s…that’s good to know.”

“Are you going to be staying for good?” Amanda asked.

Dean looked at Nicholas then glanced away when he felt the longing start to seep into his eyes. “No. I’m just here to speak.”

“That’s too bad,” Nicholas said sincerely. “We really miss you here. But I understand, you have to go where God leads you.”

“True,” Dean murmured as guilt pressed into his heart.

“Are you married?” Nicholas asked, then smiled. “Engaged, at least?”

Dean shook his head. “Neither. I’m starting to think God wants me all to himself.” He laughed quietly. “Or something.”

“Well,” Amanda spoke up. “From what Nicholas has told me about you, I can’t blame God for that. You sound like quite a catch.”

The three of them laughed and Dean sighed. “I don’t know about that.”

“You’ll find your one,” Nicholas smiled. “There’s no way that God doesn’t have someone amazing for a special man like you.”

Please stop, Dean’s heart pleaded. I can’t take anymore.

“I think you’re embarrassing him,” Amanda murmured with soft amusement.

“Sorry,” Nicholas chuckled. He looked at the entrance doors. “I guess we’ll see you inside. But seriously, pastor, you shouldn’t be nervous. Everyone here…they love you.”

Do you? The thought jumped in and out of his head so quickly that Dean didn’t have time to deflect it.

“Well, that certainly eases the tension,” he smiled.

Dean held it together until the two of them disappeared inside the church, then turned around and grasped the metal handrail. A slight dizziness grabbed him and he squeezed his eyes shut. God, what do I do? Had Nicholas really changed? Dean had come to the conclusion that no gay person could ever truly overcome their same-sex attractions…but Nicholas seemed to defy that belief.

Even if they could…did that change the need for his speech? He wasn’t here to tell people they couldn’t change, but that they didn’t need to in order to be loved and accepted by God. That was the real message; God loved them just the way they were. But it was still going to impact the listeners in a huge way, with it coming from him. Would he ultimately cause them more harm than good?

God, please…I’m so confused. Was it really you who brought me here, or just my own selfish desires? I don’t want to cause any more harm. Please tell me what to do? Give me a sign, please…I just need to know this is really what you want me to do.

“Pastor Mitchell?”

The voice was soft, quiet…almost a whisper. Dean turned around. A young boy in his mid-teens stood on the steps staring at him. “Uh…” Dean sniffed and cleared his clogged throat. “Yes?”

The boy fidgeted, his face drawn. “Do you remember me?”

Dean knew exactly who he was; Timothy Jenner. The boy he’d been most concerned about in the program, the one who had been struggling more than all the others. “Of course,” Dean smiled. “Timothy Jenner. Of course, I remember you. How are you doing?”

The boy shrugged and lowered his eyes. “Not good.”

“What’s wrong?”

Timothy sniffed and looked up, tears in his eyes. “I-I can’t change, Pastor Mitchell. I…I tried, I really did.” He ducked his head and swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what to do. I prayed all the time but it didn’t help. Then I just…stopped praying.” He raised his head, despair in his eyes. “God doesn’t love me,” he whispered. “He wouldn’t help me. He doesn’t want me.”

Dean blinked as his vision blurred. “That isn’t true, Timothy.”

“It is true,” Timothy choked, his face crumpling. “He helped others, but not me. He doesn’t want me.”

“Timothy…” Dean stepped closer and squeezed his shoulder. The boy wrapped his arms around him and clung to him, crying. Dean hugged him, his throat working as fresh tears welled up. “Are you still with the program?”

“No.” Timothy held him tighter. “They…they kept telling me it was my fault, that…that I wasn’t praying hard enough, my faith wasn’t strong enough, and…and I had to try harder.” He choked on a sob. “But I did, Pastor Mitchell, I did, I swear. And it still didn’t work. But they just…they just kept saying I was doing something wrong, and to try harder…and I couldn’t…I was doing the best I could. I couldn’t take it anymore. My folks got mad at me but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be there anymore, I didn’t want to be around God at all.” He buried his face against Dean’s shoulder and cried harder. “Am I going to hell, Pastor Mitchell? I tried…I did…I did. Everyone kept saying God helps those who help themselves—but he didn’t help me. And now I’m going to hell because he doesn’t want me.”

Dean held him deep in his arms and rubbed his back. “He does want you, Timothy,” he whispered and pressed his lips to his hair. “Please, come inside. I have something to say to the church that you need to hear.”

“I don’t want to go in there.” Timothy was shaking, clutching the back of Dean’s jacket. “I-I don’t want God to see me…he-he knows what I’ve done…who’ve I’ve been with…he knows I’m weak and dirty and he doesn’t want me in his house.”

“That isn’t true,” Dean murmured and untangled himself from the boy’s arms. He cupped his face and gently wiped away his tears with his thumbs. “I want you to come inside with me, as my personal guest. It’ll be okay, I promise. Everything will be okay.”

The boy’s chin trembled and warm tears rolled down his face. “That’s what you said before…and it wasn’t. Nothing was ever okay.”

Dean released a shaky breath. “I know. But this time, it’s true. Just come inside, listen to what I have to say, and I promise everything will be better afterward. I failed you once, Timothy,” he whispered and pulled the boy back into his arms. “But I won’t fail you again.”