by Pat Simmons
She hadn’t heard the doorbell ring as she focused on research for a prospective client. “Sorry.” She took the flowers. “He’s taken.” Setting them on the table near her bay window, she took the card and read it: You’re my everything. Minutes later, the doorbell rang again. Secretly hoping it was Tyson, she beat Veronica to answer it. She screamed her delight at seeing Solae. “What are you doing here?”
“Tyson called me this morning, so here I am.” She smiled.
“Yeah, well get in line. He called me last night,” Veronica joked and waved.
“So what happened?” Solae frowned and removed her coat, then scanned her interior. “This is nice.”
“I decorated it.” Veronica raised her hand again.
“She can show you around,” she explained, pointing to Veronica, “but let me finish running numbers and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Not even an hour later, Monica walked out of her bedroom to see her friends laughing hysterically at a comedy sitcom. Urging Solae into the kitchen, Monica confessed her doubts once they were seated at the table. “I really thought God had healed me when I got baptized. When I resurfaced from the water, I felt so light, surely every sickness was gone. Although I knew salvation was about my soul.”
“Did God tell you He was going to heal you?” Solae asked.
Shaking her head, Monica answered no. “I just assumed.”
“Her insurance kicks in soon,” Veronica yelled over her shoulder, eavesdropping. “I told her God can heal her through the doctors.”
“Physicians practice medicine to bring about healing. God is the Healer and doesn’t need any practice. The Bible says if any be sick among you, let them call for the elders of the church to lay hands and pray.”
“I can do that, so you think I should wait on God and not go to the doctor?”
Solae lifted both hands. “I didn’t say that. I think you need to get prayer from one of the elders at church. I also think you need to go to the doctor and get an official diagnosis.” She paused.
“When I was in my twenties, I suffered from agonizing menstrual periods along with severe migraines. I was already saved and got prayer before I went to doctors, trying to get relief from both ailments. Finally, one doctor put me on the strongest medicine for my migraines, but nothing could keep them at bay. I was nauseated, had to stay home from work, had blurred vision—the works, but I still took the medicine. One day while driving and my mind was elsewhere, I heard God speak, ‘I’m going to heal you and you won’t know when I’ve done it.’”
She had heard God too, but He didn’t mention anything about her healing.
“Well, as a chronic migraine sufferer, my few migraines became less frequent until I realized they no longer accompanied my menstrual cramping and heavy bleeding. The doctors took care of my heavy bleeding with a total abdominal hysterectomy and Jesus took care of my migraines by speaking it.”
“Wow,” Veronica said, walking into the kitchen. “I thought once Monica was saved, everything would be all right.”
Solae cited a couple of scriptures. “As long as we live in this world, the devil will come at us. His days are numbered and God will either heal our friend or equip Monica with spiritual warfare to resist the devil’s tactics.”
Veronica seemed to be engaged, asking questions until Solae checked the time. “I’ve got to pick up my children from school, so let’s pray.” Before she left, she snapped a selfie. “Orders from your man.”
“Of course.” Everyone laughed and hugged Solae goodbye.
Veronica went back to watching movies and Monica finished up work, then she warmed up leftovers for dinner. After they ate, Veronica cleaned the kitchen. “My assignment here is done. I’m heading home.” They hugged each other. “I’m glad you have Tyson and Solae. You can’t go wrong with them two.”
“But you will always be my number one sister-girlfriend.”
After Veronica left, Monica waited for Tyson’s plane to land in St. Louis. When it did, he texted: I know it’s late, but I’m stopping by.
When her doorbell rang, she opened it. Although Tyson looked worn out and stressed, he rushed in, wrapped his arms around her, and lifted her off her feet. He smothered her with kisses before setting her down, but he didn’t let her go.
Stepping back, he scrutinized her as if he was looking for battle scars. Seemingly satisfied she was okay, he kissed her again. “I’ll pick you up for work tomorrow. Good night.”
Monica blinked at the whirlwind moment. She was so glad it wasn’t a dream.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The elders at Rapture Ready Church laid hands on Monica and prayed for her deliverance. Tyson was at her side. Four days after her insurance kicked in, he accompanied her to the doctor.
Because of her symptoms, she was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and not generalized anxiety that everyone experiences from time to time. “Miss Wyatt, more than forty million Americans suffer with one form or another anxiety, but this is treatable.” He prescribed medications, and suggested a follow-up in a month.
She was disappointed, but thanked him. “He confirmed my fears.”
Tyson squeezed her hand as they left the doctor’s office. “Babe, I don’t know a lot of scriptures, but I have to believe prayer means something or He wouldn’t tell us to pray without ceasing.”
Monica sighed. “Yeah.”
Ironically, after she began to take the medicine, God spoke. I’m going to heal you.
“Why did You wait until now to say something? When, Lord?”
She didn’t wait for His answer as she was about to defy her doctor and stop the medicine cold turkey, but Dr. Davis strongly advised her against that.
“God will let you know when this trial is over.” Solae had convinced her at work.
Tyson reasoned with her as he continued to fast and pray. She admitted she did feel calmer with the drug, but was concerned about possible side effects. “I don’t want to gain weight, get addicted, or become suicidal,” she murmured, despite enjoying a picnic at the park near their company.
“Baby, your enchanting eyes are your best asset. If you pick up weight, you’ll still belong to me. Don’t women pick up weight after they have a baby? And we have to discuss how many we want.” He took a sip from one of the plastic champagne glasses he had filled with sparkling grape juice. He had gone all out for an hour lunch.
“Plus, God said He was going to heal you, which means it will come to pass. As Solae says, ‘We have to impress God with our faith no matter what devices the devil throws at us—’”
“Hold up.” She frowned. “Let’s backtrack to the weight gain part from the medicine and the babies…” She lifted an eyebrow. “How can you talk about babies when you haven’t proposed?”
He bobbed his head. “You’re right.” He rested his glass in the basket and took hers and did the same. Her heart pounded at the unknown.
Taking both her hands, Tyson stood and pulled her to her feet. He rubbed her hands and gazed into her eyes. “I can’t think of another woman…” he knelt, “…who I would want to spend my life with, have my babies, and be my prayer partner, so…will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
He leaped up, lifted her off her feet, and spun her around before steadying her. She laughed as he fumbled with the ring box in his pocket, then opened it.
The sunrays’ brilliance touched the diamond, causing it to sparkle as he slipped it on her finger. “It’s beautiful.” She kissed him, then stepped back, folded her arms, and feigned insult. “I know you’ve got something more special than our lunch hour to propose to me.”
“But of course, Miss Wyatt.”
Surprisingly, they didn’t return to the office. “Let’s go for a ride,” he suggested a little too mysteriously.
“Where are we going?”
She soon found out when she spied three Tyson & Dyson Communications billboards with his proposals: one, he was on his knees with a puppy dog expression; the second billbo
ard showed her ring; and the third was a picture of them with a caption: She said yes!
Monica was speechless. She faced him. The money they forfeited to run the proposal was costing the company. She stroked his chin. “You have outdone yourself.”
“Then you like it?”
“Yes, but what if I had said no?”
“It would have stayed up there until you caved in. For now, just the weekend.”
After that excursion, they played hooky from work to go home and get ready for an evening of celebration, beginning with telling their parents.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Four months later…
This was it. In less than an hour, Monica Wyatt would become Mrs. Tyson Graham. She exhaled slowly as she left the bride’s chamber on her father’s arm. More than anything, she prayed they would have a long happy life ahead and she would give him beautiful or handsome babies.
Over the years, her resolutions had come and gone, but this year, the best resolution had been for her and Veronica to go back to church. Her eyes glazed as the double doors opened to a dimly lit sanctuary for the candlelight ceremony. She swallowed as guests stood.
As she glided down the aisle toward the man God sent her way, Monica admired his stance: straight and confident. His handsomeness seemed to be engulfed in a cocoon of contentment. Marrying him felt right as his eyes pulled her in and dared her not to look away. In her peripheral vision, people’s heads turned back and forth from her to Tyson. Reggie, the best man, stood next to him and her brother, who had returned from his tour, was one of two groomsmen.
Pausing at the assigned place in the aisle, she waited as Tyson’s long strides came her way until he towered over her. She could see the fire in his eyes as his nostrils flared. As if remembering her father, he quickly diverted his attention from her long enough for a handshake.
“Love her,” her father demanded.
“Always, sir,” he answered.
Releasing his hold, her father kissed her cheek and stepped back to allow Tyson to guide her to the altar.
“Dearly, beloved, we are gathered here today…” Pastor Reed began.
As they repeated their vows, she stared into Tyson’s eyes. She saw the promise of his love as he professed each word.
“Monica, I will honor you, protect, and pray for you until the Lord takes my last breath. I love you.”
With teary eyes, she said her vows, then she exhaled. Although she was a little unsure of the future, she had faith and trusted this man with her heart, body, and now soul. She was in good hands.
“By the power of God invested in me and the state of Missouri, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Tyson Graham. What the Lord has joined together from the beginning of time, let no demon, whether in the form of a handsome man or an alluring woman, come between and destroy what God has given you. In Jesus’s name. Amen. You may now salute Mrs. Graham.”
Monica shivered when she heard herself addressed as Mrs., but her groom seemed either to be in no rush to seal the deal, or everything was moving in slow motion.
The smirk on his lips answered her question. He would not be rushed as he lifted the veil and lovingly gathered her in his arms. Closing her eyes, she waited impatiently for the kiss. When it arrived, it was like no other they had shared. It was of possession, leaving no doubt she belonged to him and she returned the assault, reminding him that he now belonged to her.
Author’s Note:
I hope you’ve enjoyed Monica and Tyson’s story. Please tell others and post a review on Amazon and Goodreads. I would appreciate it!
While researching this story, I watched some very cool digital billboards on YouTube. I hope to revisit this fascinating industry, because the novella didn’t allow me enough space to explore it to the extent I wanted. In the meanwhile, visit YouTube and plug in these titles in the search box and enjoy.
British Airways Clever Billboard Incorporates Real Flights
The Most Creative Billboard Ads
The billboard that produces potable water out of air
If you’ve read my work before, then you know I like to put a little of myself into the stories. Every Woman Needs A Praying Man is no exception. God is mighty and He has performed mighty works in my life. Years ago, I did suffer from severe, disabling migraine headaches where my vision blurred, and I was allergic to two migraine medicines.
God spoke to me exactly as I had Him in the scene with Solae. Let my testimony serve as a reminder that God is still performing miracles.
Want to know about my next release? Sign up for my monthly newsletter at www.patsimmons.net
Be blessed!
Book Discussion Questions:
• Can you name a few scriptures that deal with spiritual warfare?
• Discuss Tyson ’s attitude when he visited the church to get prayer for Monica only and not himself.
• What is a panic attack?
• Is medication always needed?
• If someone close to you experienced a panic attack, how did you respond?
• Describe Tyson ’s character—too hard on Monica or reasonable, considering he didn’t know what was going on with her.
• What do you think triggered Monica ’s panic attacks?
• Have you ever been healed of a condition without asking for it?
• Has God healed you of anything you want to share?
About the Author
Pat Simmons is a self-proclaimed genealogy sleuth who is passionate about researching her ancestors and then casting them in starring roles in her novels, in the hope of tracking down any distant relatives who might happen to pick up her books. She has been a genealogy enthusiast since her great-grandmother, Minerva Brown Wade, died at the age of ninety-seven in 1988.
Pat describes the evidence of the gift of the Holy Ghost as an amazing, unforgettable, life-altering experience. She believes God is the Author who advances the stories she writes.
Pat holds a B.S. in Mass Communications from Emerson College in Boston, Massachusetts. She has worked in various positions in radio, television, and print media for more than twenty years. Currently, she oversees the media publicity for the annual RT Booklovers Conventions.
She is the multi-published author of thirty single titles and eBook novellas, including the #1 Amazon bestseller in God’s Word category, A Christian Christmas. Her award-winning titles include Talk to Me, ranked #14 of Top Books in 2008 that Changed Lives by Black Pearls Magazine. She is a two-time recipient of the Romance Slam Jam Emma Rodgers Award for Best Inspirational Romance for Still Guilty (2010) and Crowning Glory (2011). Her beloved Jamieson men are featured in the Guilty series: Guilty of Love, Not Guilty of Love, Still Guilty, and The Acquittal; the Jamieson Legacy series continues in Guilty by Association, The Guilt Trip, Free from Guilt and The Confession (nominated for Best Inspirational Romance).
Pat introduced the Carmen Sisters series in No Easy Catch, In Defense of Love, Driven to Be Loved (National Bestseller) and Redeeming Heart.
In addition to researching her roots and sewing, she has been a featured speaker and workshop presenter at various venues across the country.
Pat has converted her sofa-strapped sports fanatic husband into an amateur travel agent, untrained bodyguard, GPS-guided chauffeur, and administrative assistant who is constantly on probation. They have a son and a daughter.
Readers may learn more about Pat and her books by visiting her Web site, www.patsimmons.net; connecting with her on Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, or LinkedIn or by contacting her at [email protected].
Excerpt from THE CONFESSION
CHAPTER ONE
“Excuse me.” The richness of a baritone voice interrupted Sandra Nicholson’s next sip of java as she stared out the window at the Nook Café. Glancing over her shoulder, Sandra expected to see… Well, she didn’t know what she expected, but the good-looking gentleman with defined features wasn’t it.
The mesmerizing voice matched a captivating man. Wow, she thought to h
erself as he seemed to study her.
“You are one incredibly beautiful woman,” he stated as he towered over the table she shared with her son, who had minutes earlier excused himself to the men’s room.
The stranger’s timing couldn’t have been more precise. A snarl from her overbearing son, and the man surely would have thought twice about stopping. What was taking Kidd so long, anyway?
Without waiting for her response, the distinguished gentleman swaggered out of Nordstrom’s boutique café and disappeared into the store, leaving a trail of his designer cologne as his calling card. His stride had been as confident as his declaration.
Sandra did her best not to ogle, but she conducted a quick assessment in less than sixty seconds. She guessed him to be about six-one or two and would tower over her five-seven frame. Judging from his wavy thick salt-and-pepper curly hair that complemented his brown skin, the man was in his late forties, early fifties. If good genes ran in his family, he could have been hovering over eighty for all she knew. Yet, his confident stride hinted of a man who was youthful and fit. With jaw-dropping looks, she pegged him as a ladies man in his heyday, or even now. Sandra knew how to call them, because she had been charmed by the top-of-the-line Samuel Jamieson. She dismissed the temptation at the same time Kidd reappeared, talking on his cell phone.
“Eva,” he mouthed.
She nodded as he took his seat, then her mind drifted once again to the striking stranger. It wasn’t like she didn’t receive compliments here and there, but it was the commanding way he said it that made her want to pass out and never regain consciousness if it meant he would be in her dreams. Because he said it, Sandra felt beautiful. Maybe it was the highlights in her hair that her daughter-in-law, Talise, insisted she try or maybe it was the ensemble she had meticulously assembled to wear.
