The 2 Faces of a Preacher's Wife: One Woman's Journey into Freedom from the Stronghold of Deception.

By Toni J. Spearman

She cringed. Her feet felt like they were engulfed in cement and she couldn't move. Please God, don't let my husband call me up there, she begged, but of course he did. He was the guest preacher and he always called on his wife to help him during altar call. As she walked down the aisle she repented feverishly. Why? Because she was an undercover lesbian, married to a preacher, living a double life, most miserable! Dear God, help me please, she begged. I'm trying to fight these feelings; I have struggled with this all my life.

I don't want to pray for these young people, I'm so unworthy. Tears began to slide down her cheeks.

It was as if her prayers were void of meaning. When will I ever get free Lord? When will my struggle end? she asked as she laid her hands on a young lady in the prayer line who had come down to get saved.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481715959

Toni J. Spearman

A native of Oklahoma, Toni Spearman has cherished a love of books since childhood. Now a resident of Midland, Texas, the wife and mother enjoys family time, writing, and blogging with Six Brown Chicks of Chicago and Examiner.com. This is her first novel.

Book preview

The 2 Faces of a

Preacher’s Wife

One woman's journey into freedom

from the stronghold of deception.

Toni J. Spearman

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AuthorHouse™

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The 2 Faces of a Preacher's Wife

A Non-Fictional Novel

© 2013 by Toni J. Spearman. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission by the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/06/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1596-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1594-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1595-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013902786

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Dedication

Preface

Introduction

CHAPTER ONE      The Wedding

CHAPTER TWO      Regina Jacobs

CHAPTER THREE      Something Wicked Cometh

CHAPTER FOUR      Chosen

CHAPTER FIVE      Who is thy Mother?

CHAPTER SIX      Forbidden Pleasure

CHAPTER SEVEN      I Want A Baby

CHAPTER EIGHT      Fourteen

CHAPTER NINE      A Familiar Face

CHAPTER TEN      Choices

CHAPTER ELEVEN      Transformation

CHAPTER TWELVE      Life After The Divorce

CHAPTER THIRTEEN      A female child is born

CHAPTER FOURTEEN      Another Preacher

CHAPTER FIFTEEN      Sin has pleasure for a season

CHAPTER SIXTEEN      Until Death

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN      Realization

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN      God’s Recipe for Me

Dedication

I dedicate this book to the Lord Jesus Christ who transformed my life and way of thinking through his indescribable word. I am forever grateful. To my wonderful husband, Charles, who embraced the incomplete woman that I was and helped nurture me into becoming the blessed woman I am today. To my children, Brianna, Erica and Jordan, who stood by my side through thick and thin and loved me unconditionally; you’re my angels. Finally, to the men, women, boys and girls who will read this book, may God utterly transform your world like he did mine, healing and restoring you, one precious day at a time.

Preface

I have always loved reading from as early as I can remember. Words were fascinating and they gave me a strong sense of empowerment. However, I never realized that my love for reading would one day prepare me for an even greater desire to write. Nor did I foresee my childhood experiences as something designed to equip me for my future. It is the revelation, the appreciation and the acceptance of these that birthed this book. This is my story.

Introduction

I struggled with the gay lifestyle most of my childhood, teen and young adult years, teeter tottering between two beliefs, the values and principles instilled in me as a child and the feelings and desires that drove me to ‘become’. It has been one of the most challenging things I’ve encountered in my lifetime. Growing up as a teenager in middle school was difficult because I liked boys and girls. It wasn’t until I became an adult, officially, that my interests were satisfied. And I do mean satisfied. Greater than anything I’d expected or imagined.

Then one day, after many years of fulfilling the lust of my flesh, my whole life came crumbling down and hit a rock bottom I wasn’t prepared for. The demons in my body collided with my destiny and I found myself going through deliverance and a purging of soul. It was hell, for real, getting free from an ancient way of thinking and believing. The chains that bound me were strongholds and thoughts that could only be broken by drops of crimson blood that pierced the earth when Jesus said, It is finished!

I once worked in a detoxification unit at an alcohol and drug rehab center but never witnessed anything like what I had to go through. Detoxing and purging the body is one thing but cleansing the mind, the thought pattern and the spirit is another. I remember begging God to take the pain of deliverance away from me. Just heal me quick and let’s get this over with, but I had to ride it out on my knees and face before God. What had been breeding and festering for years could not be healed in one day. It was going to take time and over time I would get better. I didn’t take medication, alcohol or drugs to lessen the pain; I rode it out like a bull rider hanging on for dear life. I was determined to get free particularly because the Devil told me I never would.

Some people may not appreciate me comparing gay love to an addiction, but for me, it exhibited the same symptoms. In my opinion, the gay life consists of twisted thoughts, compromised convictions and misplaced feelings about love and commitment. Why are we so willing to ‘accept’ the very thing God ‘rejects’?

Just because society embraces same-sex relationships does not mean God changed his mind and updated his word to accommodate this way of thinking. Although homosexuality has been a part of every human culture since the beginning of time, God has never incorporated this lifestyle into his divine plan for man. He set in motion an order or a systematic way of doing things which started with one man and one woman, two people of the opposite sex.

I can only speak from my own experience. This is not something I decided to research and read about, no, I lived it, starting with an initiation that was groomed and nurtured over a 20 year period. Then one day God said, Enough is enough, and he shut it all down. Clink, clink, like the sound of prison bars locking behind an ex-convict, being released into his/her future. My prison bars were opened and God released me into my destiny which started with me on the floor in my bedroom in a small town called Bartlesville, Oklahoma, lying in a fetal position screaming, I DON’T WANT TO FEEL THIS PAIN! ! !

I had just enrolled in a class called Deliverance 101 and my instructor was the Holy Spirit himself. For those who believe that the homosexual lifestyle is a permanent lifestyle, read on. And for those who believe that you were created gay by God, please read on.

This is my story, like it or not. I promised God I would tell it. I’ve been commissioned to tell it. I was born for such a time as this, to tell it. Along with many who have paved the way before me, I share my story hoping that one day you too, dear reader, after a life changing encounter with God, will tell yours.

And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death. Revelation 12:11

CHAPTER ONE

The Wedding

The tarnished brass pendulum swung back and forth with a hypnotic sway behind the dusty glass of the antediluvian timepiece. It stood tall and masculine in the corner of the church’s basement. Approximately 876,000 hours have passed since its creation and somehow it still managed to keep accurate time. It was 5:26 pm on Saturday, August 23, 1986, a pivotal moment in history. Today I will become flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone. This would have been the happiest day of my life except for one thing. My Mama, dad and two younger sisters were running late. I had not been able to contact my two older sisters and my only brother was in the state penitentiary, for robbery, I think.

I paced the floor back and forth clenching the train of my beautiful wedding gown. It was going to wrinkle for sure but I was so nervous I needed something to do with my trembling hands. While contemplating picking up the phone and calling home the deep baritone bell of the clock sounded 5:30 pm. The tuna salad and potato chips from lunch began to curdle in my stomach.

I grabbed the receiver of the yellow rotary phone sitting on the counter and dialed long distance. After the fourth ring the silence was interrupted by a sweet, tender voice.

Hello? I froze. Literally. I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat which hindered my speech. Hello, who is this? asked the voice on the other end.

It’s me Renee. Where are you all? I whispered as liquid pain poured from my eyes and nose.

I had been praying all day that my family would make it to the ceremony. Daddy was supposed to give me away to my high school sweetheart. Maria and Renee were my bride’s maids but hearing the voice on the other end of the phone jolted me back into reality. There was approximately 192 miles between Lawton and Tulsa, Oklahoma which averaged a three hour drive. They’re not going to make it, I told myself. The wedding starts in 29 minutes and they’re simply not going to make it.

Renee went on and on about why Daddy wasn’t going to drive all the way to Tulsa because he didn’t have enough gas money and how Mother wasn’t feeling well and how she and our other sister Maria were crying and upset because they couldn’t be in the wedding… I had tuned my sister out by that time and was starring at the lonely grandfather clock wishing that I too, had been created out of metal, brass and wood so that I could not feel the pain of disappointment! Again!

Just three months prior, I marched across the stage of the McMillan High School, shook hands with the dignitaries and received my diploma with honors. My school years were long and difficult but I survived them. Graduating at the top of my class with a 3.8 GPA, being on the student council board and in the Concert Choir were accomplishments I was very proud of. I had worked hard to be successful in school despite my many obstacles but I was finally graduating and was looking forward to a future that consisted of college, marriage, children, traveling the world, discovering new terrain and loving it.

I was adjusting my cap and gown when my eyes connected with my father’s, everyone else in that auditorium disappeared. I screamed and ran toward him and my two sisters. He had a look of, ‘I’m so proud of my little girl’ on his handsome face. He was truly a stunning man with an aged, tapered mustache and beard. And his smile was as warm as the noon day sun with perfect white teeth that glistened. They say I got my smile from my dad and my skin color from Mama. Daddy was a Hershey dark chocolate tint while Mother was a French Vanilla Cappuccino blend (with lots of whipped cream). Back in the day she was called ‘high-yellow’.

The two of them created beautiful daughters with smooth polished skin, high cheek bones and dimples. Oh yea, let’s not forget the hips with deep sensual curves that turned the boy’s heads in school. I always hid my back side underneath baggy pants or an over-sized shirt, never wanting the attention that a big booty warrants. My friends used to ask me, ‘Tina, why do you dress like that? You’re such a pretty girl, with a cute figure, why do you always, wear your clothes too big?’

I never wanted to explain how often my rear end got more attention than my front end and how sometimes guys couldn’t pay attention to what was coming out of my mouth for looking at what was underneath my clothes. Oh how distracted men can be at times.

But my graduation was suddenly flooded by an emotional down pour. I scanned the crowd of hundreds of people, looking, searching, and hoping to see my mother’s face. I didn’t say anything at first because I thought Mama had decided to just wait in our 1978 Station Wagon sedan. Mother didn’t care much for large crowds. My dad and sisters didn’t say anything either. We walked and laughed, squeezing our way through huddles and groups of people that were smiling, crying, taking pictures, screaming, laughing at balloons popping and tip toeing over limp rose petals.

But there was ‘no mother’ then and there will be ‘no mother’ now. And the reality of it pierced my soul to the core. She did not attend my graduation and it’s pretty obvious she won’t be attending this wedding either.

What am I supposed to do? I cried. Dear God, I’m so afraid and so alone and I… My sulking was interrupted by a strong female voice.

Come on sweetheart, dry your eyes. It’s going to be okay baby girl. Aunt Hazel had come to the church’s basement looking for me.

Now you have a church full of people upstairs waiting for the lovely bride to be. So let’s get this party started, she grinned exposing