The wedding was over. Dr Mike and Sully had left for their blissful honeymoon and all the guests had departed soon after, worn out from the festivities and leaving the Reverend to a yard full of the wedding wreckage. As he slowly walked around, picking up a ribbon here and a napkin there, his vision started to blur with tears, rare for this man of God. Timothy Johnson considered himself a fairly happy person. He had a lovely church that was filled every Sunday. The community of Colorado Springs loved him dearly and welcomed him into their lives every day. His health was tip-top and his soul was happy to be serving the Good Lord every day from sun up to sun down.
So why these tears? The Reverend was shocked to feel them slipping down his face, not because there wasn't an aching in his heart -there was- but because he never, ever allowed himself such luxuries as self-pity and sorrow. He was angry with himself for letting the mask slip. And for entertaining such selfish thoughts as those which were inhabiting his mind of late. He looked up at the rails which had taken away the newlyweds. Sully and Dr Mike. Michaela. He had proposed to her. And he had meant it, too. She was beautiful, gorgeous! And what a heart she had! Bigger than the Colorado sky. But she had turned him down and now he was alone again with only the love of the Lord to comfort him. When had that stopped being enough? When had he started desiring more? God was so good to him and Timothy loved Him with all of his being…but maybe the heart needed love that the soul couldn't understand.