A few hours later, Josh and Regan sat on the couch, his arm draped comfortably on her shoulders, her head resting on his chest. She savored the closeness. As they sat, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel safe and protected. And the fact that a good-looking guy wanted to spend the evening with her, holding her tenderly and listening to her stories, wasn’t half-bad either.
Dinner had gone well. He acted like the stir-fry was a five-star meal, not the quick but tasty throw together it was. She’d gotten ice cream for dessert and he’d enjoyed that as well. They’d conversed easily, about her job, their childhoods, Luke and the challenges he brought to her lately. He’d helped her clear the table, and she convinced him that she wanted to wait on doing the dishes, preferring to spend their time together away from dishwater and detergent.
Then they’d landed on the couch, and he’d immediately slid his arm around her, making her heart jump a little. The last time she’d dated, she would have been nervous about a guy snuggling up to her on the couch at the end of an evening, wondering what he expected, and how she would fend him off if his advances became a little too much for her to handle. But she was a teenager then. Right now, that fear couldn’t be further from her mind.
However, there was something that was weighing heavily on her mind. It involved the accepted protocol for dating a Man of God. Had all the rules changed? Obviously, she wasn’t even up on the normal rules for adult dating, but dating a minister was a completely different ballgame. Wasn’t it?
“Josh?” she ventured, not knowing exactly where to begin, but hoping she’d figure it out as she went along, without totally insulting the man in the process.
“Hmmm?” he sounded a little sleepy, probably from the big meal, and the relaxed state they’d entered. Nothing like an uncomfortable topic to wipe away contentedness.
She turned in his grasp until she could look into his face. “Do you date much?”
A flicker of surprise danced on his face for an instant, and then he appeared to give some thought to her question. “Define ‘much.’”
She smiled. “Okay, I’ll rephrase. How many women have you dated since becoming a minister?”
His eyebrows shot up into his bangs. “Uh … wow. I haven’t exactly kept a diary. Do you mean relationships? Or just dates?”
She sat up straighter, hoping her body language added some import to the topic. “Let me start over. I don’t really care how many women you’ve dated—I’m just wondering … how to do it.” Great lame finish. Take a bow, Regan.
His look of confusion prompted her to rush on, “Okay, I’m messing this up. I’ll just say it. I’m assuming dating a minister is different than dating a man who’s … not a minister.”
He looked down at his lap and a smile of understanding dawned on his face. Click. The light’s going on.
“You want to know what dating me will be like. What sorts of things we’ll do? And what sorts of things we won’t do … because of my position.”
The man was bright, she had to give that to him.
“Yeah. I mean, I’m no expert on dating, believe me. The last time I dated a guy I was barely out of high school, and I married him four months later. And we all know how that turned out.” She leaned back into his embrace again, partially to gain strength to continue this strange conversation. “And I don’t have much church experience. I don’t know if I’ve ever said a prayer—all on my own, without reading the words out of a book.” She sighed. “I guess I’m just at a loss here.”
She was gratified when he squeezed her shoulders again, and then she felt a kiss on the top of her head. So he wasn’t racing for the door and grabbing his coat. She could take comfort in that.
He paused, and she knew without even looking at him that he was giving her question serious thought. “I’ve dated sporadically since becoming a minister. Often, I’ll date women in the field—other ministers, youth pastors, lay people who work with ministers in the area. Never people from my own congregation, because that could get a little uncomfortable if … when the relationship ends. But every once in a while, I’ll meet a woman … like you … who didn’t know me in my pastor role. And it often throws them for a loop.”
Regan felt relieved. So she wasn’t the only one to struggle with this.
“Dating a minister doesn’t take a whole new rule set. We’re human, you know. We like to do the same things as other single folks. It’s just that there are certain activities we don’t do because it collides with our beliefs of what the Lord says is right for us.”
Regan turned to look at him. Okay, now they were getting to the nitty-gritty. “Such as?”
Josh cleared his throat. “The Bible’s pretty clear about pre-marital sex.”
Wow, talk about grabbing the bull by the horns. He was courageous to dive right into that one. Best not to linger, though. Not if she didn’t want a savage blush to quickly encompass her entire face.
“Okay. How about drinking?”
“Sure, I drink a little. And you can certainly drink when you’re with me. But I don’t get drunk.”
“Swearing?”
“I try to avoid it.”
“Jokes?”
He laughed. “I like them as much as the next guy. In fact, the best ones I save for my sermons.”
His sermons. The realization hit her like a lead pipe to the stomach. He preaches to people. Which means he’s qualified to tell a whole room full of people what they should be doing. And he leads by example. In contrast to her, who struggles giving advice to one certain teenager, let alone legions of others.
She felt her brow perspire. He was so totally out of her league. This guy was way too good for her. What could he possibly see in her? She wasn’t holy—she wasn’t righteous—she hadn’t stepped foot in a church in years. What in God’s name was he doing with her? If he knew about all the mistakes she’d made in her life, he’d turn tail and run. Get away from her as fast as he could.
Especially if he knew about her biggest mistake of all.
“Hey,” he said, and turned her toward him. “You’re stressing out over this, aren’t you?”
She nodded.
He leaned closer to her and said softly, “Why?”
She shook her head. How could she explain it to him? It was putting the obvious into words. Hadn’t he recognized it himself? “I’m not the church type. I’m not in your world. You’re way too good for me. And…” she rushed on because he looked like he was going to protest, “…I’m not saying you’re too good-looking, or too popular, like we used to say when we were teenagers. I’m saying—you’re too good for me. You’re—God-fearing. You’re pious. Devout.” She thought about getting her Roget’s Thesaurus from the bookshelf and pounding it over his head so he’d understand.
“I’m not any of those things," she continued. "God’s … I don’t know … chosen you to do His work. I struggle. I second-guess. I make mistakes.” She sighed in frustration. “You lead by example. You don’t want me by your side. I’d be bad for you.”
He got a really serious look on his face then, and she could feel his eyes boring into hers. “That’s not true. Let me tell you something. God loves me, you’re right. But He loves you every bit as much. We all struggle and make mistakes. We’re human. But God is there, and He’s just waiting for you to call on Him. He’s not going to burst His way into your life. He waits for an invitation. The only difference between you and me is that I’ve figured that out. Life is better with Him in it. I invited Him in, and you haven’t. Yet.”
She looked at him, mesmerized.
“I can help you with that, if you like. When you’re ready. Meanwhile, can’t we just get to know each other? Enjoy each other’s company?”
She wanted to. Oh, she wanted to badly. She felt happy when she was with him. Why create problems that weren’t there? That Josh didn’t think were there? A voice in the back of her head shouted at her, “Say yes! Say yes! Quit causing problems.”
She smiled and nodded. “Okay.”