13 Quotes by Anna Aquino

I was going to stop pretending that just because we were in ministry we were perfect. I was tired of wearing the mask of ministry, and knew that I needed to start living the life.

She was going to be okay. I knew she was. She had forever changed my life and I had changed hers. I had heard a soldier once speak of the camaraderie men who fight in battle have with each other. I felt that way with Bathsheba now. She was more than just a name in my Bible, and we’d become more than just friends.

An idle mind was a recipe for disaster. Bathsheba wasn’t just teetering on the edge; I knew she was going to be diving right into a pool of tragedy.

But time is like that, it’s a bitter acquaintance that no matter how hard one tries to fight it one can’t. One always is bound to its constantly ticking onward and even though many have wanted to bottle it, it just couldn’t be done.

So time continued on slowly and painfully. Perhaps the old analogy of being a record stuck on repeat had become too dated; I felt like I’d just gotten an IPod and only could afford one song so that one song played over and over again until I felt as if it was just part of the constant monotony.

I had long since wished that they would have been born with a dictionary sized how-to guide in my placenta. It would have been custom printed for each child by God. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. I’d been forced to walk through the minefield of parenthood feeling like I was blindfolded and hopping on one leg. Surely my kids should understand that I was trying to know what I was doing, but the verdict still seemed out at the moment.

Perhaps we could fool them, but Bathsheba was entering into a place I couldn’t help her. It was a dark place filled with the result of one night of bad choices. I could feel it beginning to erupt. It was as if Bathsheba had been sitting on a mountain and like a volcano it was getting ready to explode.

What made you know so much about all of this?” She didn’t try to come across as angry, just curious. “It’s called American High School. Don’t worry; I’m a pastor’s wife. I speak Pretentious Caddy Women fluently.” She looked up at me questioningly. I knew she didn’t understand my humor but I thought I was hilarious.

Wasn’t I allowed at least one nervous breakdown a year? Maybe next year Jon and I could pencil it into our calendar. Maybe we could post it in the church bulletin. It would read “ATTENTION: Our Dear Pastor’s wife is scheduling her annual nervous breakdown, so if you could avoid calling, texting, emailing, or whining in her direction for the next week between the hours of 10:00 a.m. and 4:00 p.m., she would be most grateful.