Page 146 of The Prodigal Son

“But, my friends, as we have seen through history, so much of the Bible has been twisted and misconstrued over time through translations and misunderstanding of the world then versus now. But I have spoken to God, and like you have, I feel his love. For me. For who I am.”

“Holy shit,” I mutter. Pausing between the building and my tour bus, I watch the video and my pulse quickens. He speaks with such conviction. Such passion and confidence. It makes my heart swell in my chest to hear him.

“Tell me, if we know that God created all creatures in his image…” He pauses, looking down with contemplation. As he gazes up, I see the emotion in his eyes. “Am I any less in his image than any other man or woman?”

It’s happening, I think as Lola steps up behind me. “Everything okay?”

I turn my phone toward her, and she stares at it in confusion.

“Listen to this,” I say with a quiver in my voice.

“My friends, I have struggled with my sexuality, and I am here to tell you I struggle no more. Yes, I am a gay man. Yes, I am a preacher. I have faced moral infractions the same as every person in this room, and yet… When I speak to God, he listens. When I reach for his love, I feel it.”

“Did he just…?” she mumbles, and I nod with tears in my eyes.

“He’s really doing it.”

She wraps a hand around my shoulders and squeezes me tight as we watch the rest of Jensen’s sermon. It’s beautiful. Probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever listened to. Lola and I make our way onto the tour bus and prop the phone up on the table as we listen to the rest of it.

We can see a few people getting up and leaving his sermon, but what’s more important are the people who stay. The warm bodies filling those pews who nod along with Jensen, who offer him their support, and, at the very end, pray with him.

I can see in the video that Adam, Caleb, Luke, and my mother are among them, and it chokes me up to see them. My family and his family are together in that church.

The video cuts off at the end, and it makes me miss him so much it hurts. I wish I were there for him so I could hold him after that and tell him how stunning it was.

The fact that Jensen plans to continue preaching makes me love him so much more. He’s not willing to sacrifice his faith for his sexuality or the other way around, even when others try to convince him he has to. He sees the good in spirituality, even when I couldn’t. Because there is so much. I walked away from my faith years ago because I was convinced it was the only way to stay true to myself. But Jensen represents everything Iwantedwhen I was in the church. He doesn’t just see the good—heisthe good.

After watching his video, I text my mom back and thank her for sending it and for going to support him. She immediately replies.

You’ve got yourself a good one.

With a smile, I reply.

I know.

After that, I open a text thread to him. Biting my bottom lip, I type something from the heart. I don’t want to push him—I just want him to know that I’m here and that I support him.

I just watched your sermon. That was so incredible, Jensen, and I’m so proud of you. You make that church a better place. In fact, you make the world a better place. I love you.

Nervously, I hit send.

“Fifteen minutes,” someone calls after a quick knock on the greenroom door.

I look over at Lola and our expressions both carry the heavy weight of nostalgia and sadness. This is our last show. Appropriately, it’s in Austin. My entire family is out in the stands, and while I’m sad about the tour ending and this phase of my career coming to a close, I’m anxious about what comes after this too.

I’m eager to see Jensen again. We haven’t spoken since that one day last week when we sent each other selfies on the day he came home and the small message of support I sent him after seeing his sermon online. I’ve given him space while he’s dealing with his own coming out. I’m hoping that means he’ll let me focus on our relationship after this.

Lola moves toward the door, but I grab her arm and pull her in for a hug. She stumbles into my arms and lets me squeeze her in a tight embrace.

“What’s this for?” she mumbles against my shirt.

“I just want to say thank you for always being there for me.”

She squeezes me back. “Of course, cowboy.”

After our hug, we head out of the greenroom to meet the rest of the band. As I put my hand in the middle, I glance around at all of their faces. I’m filled with so much gratitude that they’ve stuck with me through so much.

I try to keep our last pep speech light and not too cheesy. We’ve already been through so much together.

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