Even in Our Darkness by Jack S. Deere

Even in Our Darkness by Jack S. Deere

Author:Jack S. Deere
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zondervan
Published: 2018-02-01T05:00:00+00:00


In the late spring of 1977, Leesa woke up, beset by a familiar nausea that had once preceded so much joy. Jim confirmed that Leesa was pregnant.

Around that same time, a small Bible church of four hundred people asked me to teach an adult Bible study class on Sunday mornings.

It didn’t seem to bother the church, or the seminary, that I hadn’t belonged to a house of worship for nine years.

Within a few weeks, people showed up early to save seats and argued over seats—and sometimes otherwise devout, Bible-believing Christians shoved each other out of the way for a place. The class grew to two hundred people. Then the church put a video screen in an overflow room and gave me a part-time position and a salary.

Invitations for exclusive dinners and vacations poured in. Our hosts didn’t just know the latest city politics; they knew the politicians. They belonged to the affluent country clubs and lived in homes featured in magazines. They used words like arbitrage without the slightest affectation. I knew nothing of politics or business, but I was fascinated rather than intimidated by their conversation and lifestyle.

As I basked in the attention of CEOs and lawyers who were ten or more years older than me, Leesa wilted. She felt dumb and insignificant. I told her she was smart and discerning. I said college degrees didn’t mean anything. Intellect, I said, was overrated. Character was what mattered, and she had more goodness than anyone else I knew.

Once again, my words couldn’t penetrate her feelings. It was like trying to kill a grizzly bear with a BB gun.

In the car on the way home one night, she extended an invitation into her experience, only to have it snubbed.

“Imagine if you didn’t say anything for the whole evening?” she said. “How would you feel?”

“Fine,” I said.

But that had never happened. And truth be told, I could not picture any room that held people with whom I could not match wits. It was the sort of invulnerability that blinded me to the wounds of others.



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