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a knife beside her husband just to steal some pocket change—to take her mind off the fact that he was the man of God over her. Seeing him as a regular human being made this spiritual whipping a little bit more bearable.
    Pastor David rose, placed his hands on his hips, and tried to mimic a woman’s voice as he continued to counsel Cynthia. “‘How dare he talk to me like that? Who does he think he is?’ How many times have you had those thoughts before going off on him or joining him in a heated argument? Do you see how your behavior contributes to the situation?”
    Cynthia just stared past him with her eyes fixed on the woman hanging her laundry on her fire escape across the street from the church.
    â€œBut woe unto a man who thinketh he is something when really he is nothing,” he said, clearing his throat and returning his voice to his normal pitch. “It is the Lord who raised you and will save you, but He can’t help you if you insist on doing it your way.”
    â€œSo, what am I supposed to do, just grin and bear it? You know this doesn’t even make sense.” Cynthia pushed her chair back from the conference table and stood. “This will be my last session, Pastor. I thank you for your help.” She put her head down and focused diligently on removing her wallet from her tote bag. She’d had enough of the charade and hearing the same advice: just wait on the Lord. I’m not getting any younger.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œMay I speak freely?”
    He nodded.
    â€œSince you have never been married, you may not realize this, but marriage is a partnership that takes two people.” She held two fingers in the air. “Two not one. Why should I be here alone?”
    Pastor walked around the table, taking wide, hurried steps to reach Cynthia before she broke for the door. “You should be here because you are the Christian. You are the saved one, the woman standing in the gap for your family. When your hands are like this”—Pastor David took her tote bag and let it fall to the floor. He tossed her wallet on the table and pressed her palms together as if she was praying—“they are more powerful than any punch Marvin can throw.
    â€œAnd when your head is lifted like this,” he said, tilting her chin toward the ceiling, “and the only words you are uttering are prayers to God, your words hold more weight than anything he has to say. If you give up, what will happen to this marriage? God can fix this. You know that, right?”
    She nodded in agreement with him. Truthfully, she wasn’t really sure that God could fix it. “Thank you, Pastor David, for your time,” Cynthia said, bowing in front of him with her hands still folded like she was praying. “Here is my offering for your counseling ministry.” She grabbed her wallet from the table and pulled out a folded twenty dollar bill.
    â€œCynthia, I don’t want your money and neither does God.”
    â€œThen what does He want from me, Pastor?” she asked completely exasperated.
    â€œSubmission.”
    Cynthia waved the money at Pastor David. “Please, just take my offering and let me go.” The word ‘submission’ sounded like an obscenity to Cynthia. She’d been submissive for their whole marriage. Where was God and his warring angels that would do battle on her behalf? There had to be another way to resolve this issue that didn’t involve submission and Cynthia planned on finding it with or without Pastor David’s approval.

Chapter 5
    Based on how Marvin’s eyes bulged and the way he slurred his words, Cynthia could tell he’d been to Tropics Bar and spent some time receiving counsel from his favorite spiritual advisor, Jose Cuervo. It was the same thing every time he came home like this. He moaned about the burden of raising two kids in the city, the stack of bills on the counter that were turning into its own