She cringed. Her feet felt like they were engulfed in cement and she couldn't move. "Please God, don't let my husband call me up there," she begged, but of course he did. He was the guest preacher and he always called on his wife to help him during altar call. As she walked down the aisle she repented feverishly. Why? Because she was an undercover lesbian, married to a preacher, living a double life, most miserable "Dear God, help me please," she begged. "I'm trying to fight these feelings; I have struggled with this all my life." "I don't want to pray for these young people, I'm so unworthy." Tears began to slide down her cheeks. It was as if her prayers were void of meaning. "When will I ever get free Lord? When will my struggle end?" she asked as she laid her hands on a young lady in the prayer line who had come down to get saved.