Page 136 of At Her Will

When he’d started, some of the parishioners had come to their feet. Less than normal, though. That changed as he kept uttering the line, bringing a few more individuals, then clusters of people here and there, and finally whole sections rising. At his gesture, the choir joined in, and the energy surged. Those on the aisles reached out to him as he passed, so he could clasp their hands, a confirmation of solidarity.

“Reach out to one another,” he sang. Then he sang it more fiercely, a call to action, a piercing light. Michael’s sword, cutting darkness away. “Reach out to your sisters and brothers. We all here for one another. Pray for each other. Pray for Witford, for Tisha, for Simon and Tyson. They strayed into the darkness, and they need us all to raise God’s lanterns, to guide them back to the light.”

Amens rang out. Calls for Jesus’s help, proclamations that Jesus was Lord. As Vera watched it happen, she recalled every joyous energy raising at her own Wiccan and pagan celebrations, offering hope and healing, all from the same source, the same well. Everything connected. Every soul. Every heart.

When Rev reached her in the last row, the congregation had turned, following his progress. Once there, with no self-consciousness, he dropped to one knee and extended his hand, palm up.

“I asked your forgiveness,” he said huskily, “but I want so much more than that, Veracity. I need your heart and love, justas much as I need God’s love, because they one and the same to me. I need to belong to you in Heaven and on Earth, same as I belong to Him. You my Goddess, He my God. The balance I need. Let me serve you both. Let me love and care for you.”

He wasn’t raising his voice, and for once, despite the fervor behind it, it didn’t resonate. This was just between them and him, only his body language telling them it was a moment of import, the question being asked.

Tears rolled down her face. When he’d come to her the other night, she’d realized that yes, she was hurt, and more than a little afraid of what was going on in her. But she’d also realized she couldn’t heal by herself. She needed him to help her. And she still did. She told him all that with her eyes, which was her answer.

Here I am.

His eyes lit up and he pressed a kiss to her fingers, held them to his forehead, that third eye, before he rose, drawing her up with him. He turned to the congregation. “This is the woman I love,” he said. “Veracity Morgan. She a caring and loving woman, who stands in God’s light.”

He began to back down the aisle, and resumed “Amazing Grace,” incorporating the words and sentiments thrown to him from his audience, as was his way. Since he didn’t let go of her hand, he took her with him. She allowed it, because she didn’t want to let go of him, either.

Then they surprised her, people reaching out to grip her free hand as she passed, offering her warm greetings with fervent sincerity. But all of them, herself included, were in the grip of the words God had given Rev, had given to all of them. There was no room for anything here right now but truth and love.

“Peace to you, sister…”

“Welcome…”

“God praise you…”

When she reached Mrs. Meriweather, the woman took her hand and spoke a matriarch’s blessing. The words she chose had a significance Vera couldn’t deny.

“Welcome to our family.”

Many things, large and small, happened for more significant reasons. She’d lost her birth family, but then she’d found Ros, Skye, Cyn and Abby, Bastion, and people like Sy and Trey, Mavis. Now that family was expanding even further.

She’d faced the real possibility of her death. It had opened her not just to this moment, but to healing the wounds of past losses.

She could mail that card. She could truly forgive her parents and siblings, and give them a home in her heart, where they’d always belonged. She could embrace the gifts she’d been given, and where those gifts had brought her.

To the man who held her hand, and her heart, in his gentle, strong hands.

After the service, Rev asked her to stand with him at the door. She saw some uncertain looks at her pentacle, but mostly they looked to Rev, drawing on the reassurance and strength he'd brought back to the pulpit after he’d escorted her to a seat right up front, giving her a wink as if he expected her to admonish him later for putting her in such a conspicuous place.

Yes, there would be repercussions. But for now, she settled in to listen, just like everyone else.

He'd held up several different books. The Bible, the Torah, the Koran. Hindu texts, Buddhist texts. “All these talk about what God is,” he said. “They men’s way of trying to understand, to make sense, to know how we should follow God. None of thesepaths are wrong. But here,” he touched his heart, “is where God make the most sense, if our heart be right. This is where we can always find and follow Him.

“I don’t think it matter to Him what we call Him, or the paths people take to Him, long as one thing the same. The most important thing. If everyone called him Love—not God, not Allah, not Jehovah or Yahweh, not Lord and Lady”—his gaze touched Vera’s before rising to his listeners again—“how you think we might treat one another, no matter what path we following?”

So yes, there were some uncertain looks at her choice of jewelry, but he’d made them think. Or, from his perspective, God had given him words to help them that way. Though in her opinion, God had chosen a darn good channel, one not only with great reception for the message, but who believed in it fully.

When the parking lot emptied, Rev turned to face her. “How are you today?”

It wasn’t a casual question, so she took her time answering. “I’m feeling not quite so lost at sea. You being with me…it helped. I’m finding my way back to myself.”

He gazed at their interlaced hands. “Is it all right if I say something to you, then? About that day. It’s okay if it’s not. It’ll keep.”

A faint quiver went through the connection and his mouth tightened. As he lifted a hand to her face, she shook her head, even as she leaned into him.

“No. I can hear it. I want to hear it.”

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