087: Rafe

"You want to know what I was thinking about at church?"

"Yes." She said simply and I tucked my chin in so I could press my lips to hers. I closed my eyes, feeling the warm give of skin next to mine. She deliberately didn't respond. I let my mouth brush hers, opened my lips and breathed across her, letting my hand wander up to splay my fingers along the back of her head, my palms to cup her cheeks. She almost felt like she was holding her breath. I felt my heart beat accelerate. I didn't seal our union, just let my lips wander. I could barely breathe, it was so erotic.

"I thought about us being in church in about ten years, with five little kids and a baby in a car seat." I said. "And I was trying to figure out their names."

Her breath was soft. She didn't open her eyes, but I did.

"Was one of them named Chloe?"

"It can be."

"Was one of them named Noah?"

"It can be." I breathed again, and she shivered. I finally sealed the deal, touching her lips with my tongue, and allowing movement between us. My legs pressed hard to hers, and God help me, I had to press that other part of me to her as well. Then I thought saying God's name like that even in my head was sacrilegious, and so I amended it to be--- heaven help me. And I still pressed.

"Rafe.... I was reading--- about---- conference----." She was having a hard time with my behavior. I couldn't exactly stop. I pulled her leg up and over my hips and pressed close again, deeply close so I knew she could feel me.

"Rafe--- I really like what you're doing."

I growled low, and kissed her throat.

"I like it too much."

"I know."

"You can't keep doing it."

"I know."

"I think if you're serious, you should talk to your Bishop sooner rather than later."

"I agree, but I'm not worthy."

"I just listened to this talk and President--- Uchtdorf--- said---."

"Tell me what he said, Aubrey." I kept kissing her and pressing against her and rubbing along her sides, close to her breasts.

"He said----." She reached over her head and got out her phone, and turned the light on it and tried to pull away forcefully. I held her there, my lips buried now in her cleavage. She'd done that by moving up. I turned and breathed hot air on her nipple, pressing her into me with my palm against her sides. "Rafe---." Her breath was ragged. She wasn't stopping me--- no hand up to bar the way. I could feel her nipple hard against my tongue. Enflamed I sucked it through the fabric.

She arched her back and cried out. "Rafe!"

That did it. I let go and fell back against the pillows, running my hand through my hair, adjusting my man parts in the too tight jeans. Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

"What did President Uchtdorf say?" I managed not looking at her. Aubrey fell onto her back too.

"I don't know. Give me a minute."

I grunted and then turned. "I think I should take a cold shower."

"Wait, listen." She had her hand over her heart and I felt this weird sensation of pride, knowing I had got her aroused enough to give in, and then immediately I felt ashamed. Aubrey held up her phone again and handed it to me. "Read."

"As I pondered the history of Dresden and marveled at the ingenuity and resolve of those who restored what had been so completely destroyed, I felt the sweet influence of the Holy Spirit. Surely, I thought, if man can take the ruins, rubble, and remains of a broken city and rebuild an awe-inspiring structure that rises toward the heavens, how much more capable is our Almighty Father to restore His children who have fallen, struggled, or become lost?

It matters not how completely ruined our lives may seem. It matters not how scarlet our sins, how deep our bitterness, how lonely, abandoned, or broken our hearts may be. Even those who are without hope, who live in despair, who have betrayed trust, surrendered their integrity, or turned away from God can be rebuilt. Save those rare sons of perdition, there is no life so shattered that it cannot be restored."

I had read it out loud. I laid back again and felt myself cooling off. But Aubrey took her phone and looked up something else. "Read."

So I read.

"Letters come from those who have made tragic mistakes. They ask, "Can I ever be forgiven?"

The answer is yes!

The gospel teaches us that relief from torment and guilt can be earned through repentance. Save for those few who defect to perdition after having known a fullness, there is no habit, no addiction, no rebellion, no transgression, no offense exempted from the promise of complete forgiveness.

"Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." That is, Isaiah continued, "if ye be willing and obedient."

Even that grace of God promised in the scriptures comes only "after all we can do."

You may tell yourself that your transgressions are not spiritually illegal. That will not work; neither will rebellion, nor anger, nor joking about them. You cannot do that. And you don't have to do it.

There is a way back. It will not help if, out of tender regard for your feelings, I avoid telling you about the hard part.

John Breen did not come to that morning at Johnson's Ranch simply by desiring it. He wallowed and clawed his way up over the pass, suffering every step of the way. But once he knew he would survive and the suffering would end, surely he did not complain at the ordeal. And he had help all the way down. He was with rescuers."

I gave her phone back. "Who is John Breen?"

"One of the ill fated Donner Party."

"The Donner Party." I repeated numbly.

"Yes." But she put her phone up at our heads and turned out the lights. "I need a nap."

I was glad. I wanted to think. This was a way religious topic, and it was directed at me. That didn't make me very comfortable.

What did make me comfortable was holding Aubrey while we slept.

******