"I can certainly appreciate Kenny's predicament with people at the church", says Carl. "Mom often had people over to the house in Amsterdam, various folks from the community, back in the day when I was working the streets as a paid boy. Various visitors always wanted to know too much about what I was up to, and how could I possibly tell them that the lovely Christian young son of their exalted leader was really passing his time picking up extra bucks by sucking dicks for money to pay for his little crack habit. I was also still attending church, but talk about keeping a low profile. It must have been absolute hell for your friend in the church."
"By the way, Carl, tell me something, please."
"What would you like to know?"
"Why did you get drunk today?"
He simply says nothing, at first, his head bowed low, and I can tell that he must be feeling right now the most acute embarrassment. Then he looks up with the most sheepish, most shit-eating smile I could ever imagine. I suddenly feel overwhelmed by pity and tenderness and I simply want to go over and put my arms around him. But for now, I'm staying put.
"You know", he says, "I think I have an idea of what happened. When I prayed over you this morning for deliverance, and the Holy Spirit was very much at work between us...Well, it was too much for me. You see, Christopher, I have some spiritual gifts, but...but I'm afraid that I still lack the maturity to be able to properly steward those gifts. Our prayer together put me in such a high and exalted state that I tried to make myself feel normal and grounded again by getting drunk... I'm terribly sorry about what happened...
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