Today’s contributor is going to hell for this confession
A few years ago, my cousin set me up on a blind date with the deacon at his church. He seemed like a nice guy—moderately good-looking. And since Jesus was his homeboy, there weren’t many ways it could go wrong.
On our third date, we stayed out late and he slept over. I didn’t mind because deacons are supposed to be celibate and waiting for marriage, right? Wrong. Before I knew it, the deacon was fondling my breasts! Then all of a sudden, church boy whipped out a condom.
Why was he prepared? Deacon?!
I was so confused, but who am I to question a sign from the Lord? I hadn’t been laid in only God knows how long, so this was obviously a divine intervention.