Page 40 of Preacher Man
Seven years old.Red pigtails.A polka-dot headband and a tooth missing right in the front that made her smile crooked in the most adorable way.
She plopped down beside me on the grass without being asked, tugged on my sleeve, and whispered with complete sincerity, “You forgot to comb your hair again.”
I smiled for the first time that morning.
“I like it this way,” I whispered back.
She shrugged like I was hopeless and leaned against my side, already pulling her little pink notebook out of her backpack like she was prepping for a theology exam.
I opened my Bible, found the passage, and ran my fingers over the words like they might tell me what to say.
“Today,” I began, loud enough to cut through the chaos, “we’re going to talk about the Sermon on the Mount.”
A chorus of groans.
I held up a hand.“Hey now.This one’s my favorite.And if you listen closely, you’ll see why.”
I started with the Beatitudes.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
As I spoke, the kids quieted.Some leaned forward.A few fidgeted.But Dixie sat still beside me, watching with those wide, thoughtful eyes, like she was trying to memorize every word.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Jake mourned.
Even if he never said it out loud, I’d seen it in him.The sorrow and the ache.The way he carried loss like it lived in his bones.
I’d comforted him in the dark, whispering things I didn’t yet understand, and maybe that had been holy.
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Jake wasn’t meek in the way people think of it.He was bold, loud, sinful on the surface.But his heart?His heart was gentle.Protective.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
I was starving.
I was starving for peace, for truth, for the ability to love him without shame.
And maybe I was done pretending I didn’t deserve that satisfaction.
The kids were still watching me.I didn’t know how long I’d paused.
Then Dixie raised her hand.
“Brother Ethan,” she said, like she’d been waiting her whole life to ask this question, “how come Jesus said all those nice things to sad people?”
I blinked.“Well,” I said slowly, “because He wanted them to know they weren’t forgotten.That God saw them.That even if the world didn’t treat them right, heaven still would.”
She nodded like that tracked.Then she tilted her head.“So that means love is always a good thing, right?”
I froze, and my breath hitched.
Dixie plowed on, oblivious.“Because Jesus talked about love all the time.He said to love your neighbor and your enemies and poor people and even tax guys and that nobody’s too yucky for God.Right?”
The clouds in my mind…
