Читать книгу Practicing What You Preach - Vanessa Davis Griggs - Страница 11

That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me.

—John 17:21

Bible study was really good. Pastor Landris has been teaching everyone in the main sanctuary as opposed to the break-out sessions we normally have. He began a study three weeks ago on “Who we are in Christ.” So even though I’m really busy these days, between my job and putting together this wedding, I’m determined not to miss even one lesson. Tapes and CDs are good, but there’s nothing like being there in person.

“That was a powerful illustration your pastor gave tonight,” Marcus said as we rode to my house. “The way he had that large envelope with the word ‘God’ on the outside, then pulling out a smaller envelope with the word ‘Jesus’ on it.”

“Wasn’t that great! Oh, I loved that, too!” I matched his tone of excitement. “And when Pastor Landris pulled out that even smaller envelope from inside the envelope with ‘Jesus’ on it, with the word ‘Me,’ and he said that the ‘Me’ was us, I knew it was going to be on then.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that before. Everybody was sitting on the edge of their seats, literally, including me, waiting to see how he was going to bring all of that together.” Marcus alternated his gaze between me and the road. I was thankful he was keeping his eyes on the road more than on me, specifically since he was so excited.

“I knew tonight was going to be good! That’s why I love Pastor Landris, and I hate to miss his teachings. He brings the Word in such a way that even the children get it.”

“I saw those children’s eyes totally fixed on him as he spoke. And the teenagers, my goodness. They were standing up, giving high fives to each other, and praising God.”

“I know. I saw them. But they’re always like that with Pastor Landris. He’s so good at getting across his message.”

“Yes, I love how Pastor Landris held up that envelope with the word ‘God’ on it that second time, pulled out the envelope with the word ‘Jesus,’ then started teaching out of John seventeen, twenty-one through twenty-three, visually showing how Jesus abides in God and how when we accept Jesus, we abide in Him by pulling out the ‘Me’ envelope. And if Pastor Landris had stopped right there, that would have been enough for us to chew on for the rest of the week. But then he went and pulled out that card with the word ‘Holy Spirit’ from inside the envelope that said ‘Me’ to show how the Holy Spirit was now in ‘Me’ as ‘Me’ abides in Jesus as ‘Jesus’ abides in ‘God.’ Oh, man.” Marcus slapped the steering wheel with his hand. “That was too awesome! I thought I was going to get up and start running around the sanctuary myself, giving out my own high fives!”

“And then Pastor Landris flipped the script to show that when Satan or an enemy comes at me, how they have to go through God, through Jesus, just to get to me.” I couldn’t help but grin, thinking about that. “And even then, should my enemies happen to get to me, I still have the Holy Spirit and Jesus inside me. Oh, that was so powerful!”

“You’re right. That was powerful. He had us all on our feet when it reached that point. I’m going to tell you, I’ve never heard so much praise and shouting in my life. Y’all know how to have church!” Marcus continued to shift his gaze between me and the highway. “I enjoyed myself. Thank you so much for inviting me. Oh, wow! I had an awesome time.”

Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel, then relaxed with a smile across his face. “It’s only eight-fifty. How about we get something to eat?”

I nodded. “Sounds good to me,” I said. I hadn’t eaten anything since a banana I had during my morning break. I had skipped lunch trying to play catch-up on my errands due to the time I’d lost last night when I took Nae-nae’s mother to the grocery store.

Marcus stopped at my favorite fast-food place, and I got my usual double-decker hamburger with melted Swiss cheese, sautéed onions, and mushrooms. There was no reason to give him a false impression of me by going for a salad I didn’t really want. He got the same double-decker, only with bacon. We decided to get our orders to go, which worked out perfectly. It gave us a chance to talk in private at my apartment while we ate.

“So, tell me about yourself.” I took a bite of my hamburger and chewed as I listened.

“Well, let’s see. I’m twenty-nine. My family moved from Dallas to Birmingham when I was five, and I’ve been here every since.”

“Do you have any sisters and brothers?”

He took a big bite of his burger. Barbecue sauce gushed out onto his fingers. He took his napkin and wiped the sauce off. I couldn’t help but think what a waste of good sauce. I’d have just licked it off my fingers and kept going. That’s when it tastes its best.

“I have two sisters and two brothers,” he said after he swallowed. “I’m the knee baby, which, growing up, could be quite interesting at times.” He bit into his burger again.

“Do they still live here?” I asked.

“No.” He chewed, then swallowed hard. “My sisters married and moved away. My older brother is in the military so he moves around a bit. And my baby brother is incarcerated.” The tone in his voice dropped when he spoke of his younger brother.

I dabbed both corners of my mouth daintily with my paper napkin. “I’m sorry to hear about your baby brother.”

“Yeah, me too. We were close growing up, so it makes it doubly hard. It was drug related, of course. I tell you, I wish our people would wake up and see how this drug stuff is destroying our families, our communities, and enslaving our men, especially our young men,” he said. “So what about you? Do you have any siblings?”

I smiled. “I have an older brother. I’m the baby.”

“Oh, so that must mean you’re absolutely spoiled,” he said, grinning as he took a long draw from the straw of his super-sized drink.

“I am not,” I whined, then caught myself. “I am not,” I said again, making the words sound more grown-up this time around. “And before you ask, yes, my brother still lives here. He’s real tall, about six-five, weighs about two hundred and fifty pounds, and he adores his little sister. So I would watch myself if I were you,” I half teased.

He smiled and nodded. “Duly noted. I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

“Okay, you don’t wear a wedding ring, but I still like to ask just to be sure. Are you married, or separated, legally or otherwise?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

I grinned. “Gay? On the down low? Attracted to men in any way, shape, or form other than sheer admiration?”

He tilted his head downward as he looked at me. “No,” he said. “Now, what would make you ask me something like that?”

“It’s just one of my dating rules’ questions. My mantra is: assume nothing, and if you want to know, ask.”

“I’m divorced,” he said, volunteering the information before I could ask. He took another bite of his burger and chewed a few times before adding, “and I have a child.”

My grin instantly fell from my face. “Divorced? And you have a child?”

“Yes and yes. A little girl. Her name is Aaliyah, and she’s five.” He then leaned down and over, I can only assume to get a better look at my face. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” I lied.

What I should have told him was the other one of my three rules when it comes to the men I date. I don’t date married or separated men. I don’t date men I even suspect may be on the down low. And I don’t date men who are divorced. I once dated a guy who was younger than me, although I prefer a guy who is older. So I’m no prude or anything like that. I’ve even dated a guy who had two children, so children weren’t a deterrence for me. My rules are in place to protect me before I get too deeply involved with a man, any man, no matter how awesome or heaven-sent he may appear to be.

The first two rules need no explanation. And it would have been too much trouble to go into full details regarding my third rule. Suffice it to say: there are too many scriptures in the Bible about being with someone who’s divorced for me to deal with anyone who is divorced. I don’t profess to be a Bible scholar by any means. Nor do I imply that I know all that’s behind those scriptures, either.

But what I do know is that there is something about it being a cause for a charge of adultery. And honestly, I have enough problems and sins of my own to have to ask forgiveness for; I really don’t need to add someone else’s charge of sin to my ever-running account.

“So”—I flashed him a smile as I finished up my sandwich—“tell me about your daughter.”

Listening more out of politeness now, although the way he spoke of his little girl was truly endearing and inspiring, I knew full well this would be the last time the two of us would be seeing each other. At least seeing each other on any type of personal basis.

Such a waste. God, this is so unfair! Do you hear me, God? I really liked him, too.