Excerpt: Unmasked Abandon

Lori had thought she was a geek, but even Cole had transcended her in that respect. But now she looked at the man who was approaching the pulpit, trying to believe that this really was the same person she'd known twelve years before. And then he began to talk.
“Good evening. I think I've introduced myself to almost everybody, but in case I missed you, I'll tell you a bit about myself. My name is Colton Kendrick. As most of you know from my resume, I am a single man. No wife, no children. I am currently the assistant pastor at my church, have been ordained for 5 years.” Cole looked down at his open Bible and wiped his sweaty upper lip, grief fresh on his face. “Some of you might remember me. Or my wife perhaps. She went to the rival high school. We met in college, and she decided to become a nurse. Amy was a wonderful labor and delivery nurse, energetic, full of life, and the mothers simply adored her….often asked for HER help instead of someone else’s. Amy had a car accident. I lost her after two years of marriage and lost the child she was carrying in her womb. Joshua was born at 25 weeks and lived a difficult 48 hours.” Cole locked his gaze with no one, instead he looked at the church ceiling momentarily. Then as if he’d turned off his grief, he cleared his throat. “I've known grief, but God is merciful. That being said, let’s turn to….”
Lori heard no more for several minutes. Her eyes were misty as she felt the emotion that Cole had tried to keep at bay. Lori attempted to blink her eyes several times but ended up sorting through her purse for a tissue.
And sorting. And sorting. She shifted things around, tempted to kick herself for not having cleaned out her purse before church. She felt like she was distracting from the service, but she needed that tissue! A lone tear was slowly making itself down her cheek and she swiped at it angrily with the back of her hand and then went back to digging in her purse. Empty candy wrappers were making subtle noise as she fished for the travel pack of tissues she always kept inside her purse. She looked around and saw several people looking at her. Oh, God, help me! she begged as she mentally chastised herself for being too loud. She peeked down into her purse, widening its opening with her hands so she could get a better glimpse. Where was that packet of tissues?
Lori began taking things out of her purse. She lay her wallet in the space between her mother and herself, catching a glimpse of her chuckling mother as she did so. Come on, Lord, help me out here! she prayed as she grabbed a tube of lipstick and her compact next and plopped them down on top of her wallet. Then she grabbed her pocket calendar and the mini dictionary she kept in her purse. Her mother laughed even harder, now holding her mouth to keep from making sound. Lori's frustration mounted further, but she plunged back into the purse, feeling around for the small packet of tissues. Finally she could feel it!
But first she had to remove a few more things.... Her mini flashlight. The mini devotional. Travel-sized lotion and hand sanitizer. CD of Gershwin favorites. Now she was able to rummage through the pens and pencils and spare change for the tissues. She carefully opened it to keep from making a lot of noise. She took the tissue out of the wrapper and slowly closed the sticker over the plastic packaging.
Then Lori made a realization. She no longer needed the tissue. She bit back a groan of frustration as she carefully stuffed her purse again. Lord, you surely have some sense of humor.