“What’s the matter?” Paul asked.

I stared somberly at the phone I had just replaced in its cradle.  “Gossip again,” I replied.  “Mrs. Feldon is back at her old habit of spreading stories.  This time its about me.”

“I’ll talk to her,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone knows that she’s a little odd. No one will take her seriously.”

“What about the new church members?” I asked.  “What will they think about their pastor’s wife after listening to those poisonous things?”

“It could be worse,” he said. “Remember the nightclub rumor?”

We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Paul and I were on vacation when Peggy visited our church for the first time.   The associate pastor spoke on marriage and divorce that Sunday.  When he visited in her home that week, Peggy had questions for him, as her husband had recently left her.

He told her a touching true story about a pastor whose wife had left him for another man.  She deserted their three small children and  shamelessly took a job as a dancer in a nightclub.

The pastor loved his wife and prayed for her. When the Lord convicted her, he forgave her and took her back.

Peggy was moved by the story.   Perhaps she was especially touched because she misunderstood one small word of the tale.    He said it was a true story about a pastor.   She thought he said it was a true story about the pastor, and assumed it happened to the pastor of our church.

So guess who she thought was the formerly adulterous, child-deserting,  nightclub dancer?

Me.

Let me assure you that I love the Lord and my family and would never, ever, consider doing such wicked things.    Besides, I can’t imagine any nightclub being so desperate for dancers that they would hire me.

However, Peggy didn’t know me, and the fact that we had three small children at the time, like the woman in the story, must have made it more credible.

When we met a week or so later, Peggy viewed me as a reformed scarlet woman, but I never had a clue.    She joined the church, and we became close friends.   I have to give her credit. She never seemed to hold my wicked past against me.   In fact, she told my story with great pride to her friends as she encouraged them to come to church.   No wonder her friends seemed so eager to meet me!

She might have gone on for years  believing (and telling others) about my sinful  escapades  if the Lord hadn’t intervened.

She was having lunch with her friend Barbara, and told her the story of her pastor and his wayward wife.  Barbara was suitably impressed.

“Where do you go to church, Peggy?” she  asked.

“Sherwood Baptist,” Peggy replied.

Barbara dropped her fork in shock.

“Is Paul Brown your pastor?” she asked in a strangled voice.

“Yes, he is.”

“Oh, Peggy, I don’t believe that story is true,” she gasped.  AIt just can’t be true!”

“Well, I have it on really good authority that it is,” Peggy replied.

“It just can’t be true,” she repeated.   “Paul Brown is my cousin.   I  can’t believe Susan would do a thing like that!    Surely someone in the family would have told me about it!   It can’t be true!” she paused.  “But, maybe it is.”

Of course Peggy  checked out the story  and found it wasn’t true at all.   She  promptly apologized to me and told her friends the corrected version.

In a city of around a half-million people, what are the chances that Peggy would happen to tell her story to an acquaintance who was also Paul’s cousin?   I don’t know the odds, but I feel sure that it would have to fall in the miracle category.  The  Lord obviously  arranged that miracle to protect my reputation.

“I’ll deal with Mrs. Feldon,” Paul said with a chuckle, “But you have to admit, compared to that story, anything she can come up with is bound to be pretty tame.”

“I’m not worried,” I said as I wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes.  “I’m the Lord’s child, and He’s certainly shown me that He knows how to protect me against false accusations.”