Remain in God's hands. He may cast down or build up. Let Him do whatever He pleases, both in you and through you.
JEANNE GUYON
AT 6:30 A.M., just after our alarm goes off, my cell phone rings. I left it on the nightstand before going back to bed last night. I feel for it in the still dark room. When my hand lands on it, I grab it and look at the screen.
"Tess, it's Jenna."
"Take it!" She leans over and turns on the lamp on her nightstand.
"Jenna? Dude, where are you? Are you okay?" As I listen, I toss back the covers and sit on the edge of the bed. Tess gets out of bed, comes around to my side, and motions that she's going to take a shower. She's giving me time alone to talk to Jenna.
"What?" I continue to listen as Jenna pours out her story. "Oh man . . ." I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. "Madame B strikes and lives up to all her name implies."
I close my eyes as anger heaves in my chest.
"Matthew, I'm . . . so sorry."
"There's no need to apologize. This isn't your fault. You know and I know that God is in control. We can trust Him. You picked up your cross and you're following Him. And that is a thing of beauty. I'm proud of you."
A soft laugh. "Thank you. I'll be praying for you and Tess."
"Thanks, I appreciate it. Keep me posted."
I hang up the phone and continue staring at the ceiling. How could anyone be so . . . evil? Questions torment. Will people believe Brigitte's allegations? What will my clients think? How will this play out in my job? Man, how will it play out in my marriage?
Anger burns. Righteous anger.
This is so not cool.
I shake my head and sit back up on the edge of the bed. I hear the shower turn off. "Lord, I need You to give me Your words. Prepare her heart. Let her see truth." As I pray, peace descends like a dove.
God has my back.
I get up, throw on a pair of sweats and my flannel shirt, and then I go to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee for my wife. I meet her with it as she comes out of the bathroom and hand it to her.
"Is everything okay? Is she okay?"
"She's okay. Hey, I'm going to brush my teeth, why don't you get dressed, and we'll meet in the kitchen. I need to talk to you."
I see the uncertainty in Tess's eyes and it breaks me. I put my palm on her cheek. "I love you—more than you know." I feel my eyes fill with tears, but man, I can't help it.
"Babe?"
"Get dressed. It's okay. It'll be okay." I step into the bathroom, close the door, and then lean against it. "Draw her close, Lord. Draw her close."
A few minutes later, we're standing in the kitchen together. I pour myself a mug of coffee and tweak it with creamer. Then we sit together at the small bistro table at the end of the kitchen, where I lay the story out for her. "Remember what you told me about Jenna's mother-in-law? Brigitte Bouvier?"
Tess nods.
"Well, she's attempting to blackmail Jenna."
Tess shakes her head. "But Jenna didn't fall for it—she left. That's what the blog was about last night, right?" She sets her coffee cup down. "Wait, this is why we prayed for her last night. God knew what was coming, so He had us pray?"
I nod. Even as righteous anger roils inside, I'm awed at what God is doing in Tess. I clear my throat. "Right on both counts. Jenna felt God leading her in one direction and Brigitte stood between her and God. So she had to choose. And her mother-in-law didn't like her choice."
"How did she blackmail her?" Tess stops. "Wait, what about client confidentiality? Why are you telling me this?"
I lean forward and reach for her hand. "Because it involves me. And you need to hear the truth from me."
I have to tell Tess the truth.
And it's a hard truth.
But dude, the truth sets you free.
I take a deep breath.