The Call or “Before the Surrender”

 

“When

are you

going to

start

preaching?”

 

The morning of Good Friday in April, 2002 began just like any other:– I rolled over in my bed eyelashes fluttering rapidly as I peered myopically at the alarm clock. Satisfied that once again I’d beaten the alarm, I returned to my previous position and contemplated the ceiling as I prayed in my mind, good morning God! Then without interrupting the flow of my prayer, I reached over, beat the alarming clock into submission, and continued, I thank you for waking me up this morning… My prayer complete, I jumped out of bed, (actually more of a sideways shuffle) and headed for the bathroom. It was a day I anticipated with glee, a day devoted to God. My only complaint, why did it have to begin so early? Our family had begun a tradition of attending three services on Good Friday. One at 7 a.m. featuring all women preachers, another at 12 noon in a Senior Center; and the grand daddy of them all at 6 p.m. featuring seven heavy hitting preachers from the New York and New Jersey areas accompanied by seven bumping choirs (the equivalent of the Christian “Drop it Like it’s Hot”) After a rousing round of women who brought new revelation to the seven last words of Jesus on the Cross. One which stuck in my mind was delivered by Rev. Jackie McCullough who had the word “It is Finished!” — In her exposition, she posed the theory that becoming a Christian, finishes our lives as sinners, but our lives in Christ has just begun. This theory relegates the stagnancy of many believers and stuff and nonsense and points to the fact that mustard seed faith will get you into heaven, but great faith is what gets you through, here on earth. This was followed by a song entitled “Lord I’m Available to You” that talks about dedicating all the gifts we receive from God, back to use in His service, to reach His people who are brokenhearted and in need of freedom from whatever vices hold them down. I was in tears after that and pretty pensive as we traveled from the morning service to the noon service. Since it was located in a Senior Center, the church wasn’t as grand as the structure of the church hosting the morning service, but where there presence of the Lord is, there is reverence. With the high from the previous service still in full force, I sang more heartily than usual, I listened more attentively to each preacher, with the first preacher getting my attention, because his sermon was geared towards encouraging the youth, and as a former youth choir director and an overgrown kid myself, you say the word youth and you’ve got my attention. So after his sermon, I smiled in acknowledgment (kinda that “Good word sir!” thing we do) whenever our eyes met. Which seemed to be quite often, now that I think about it, but being used to folks staring at me, I didn’t really take it on. When it was my Pastor’s turn to render the word, I sang the song he’d requested entitled, “I Believe, So Why Should I Worry or Fret.” Upon resuming my seat, Minister no. 1 was still nodding and smiling at me, but since it wasn’t a lechorous look or smile, I continued smiling then refocused my attention to the word. ### Having congratulated all the ministers and schmoozed with their wives or choir members, I made a beeline for the most important section of the room. Nope, not the bathroom, the food table! I was almost there when I was intercepted by Minister no. 1 who shook my hand, smiled beatifically at me then asked, “When are you going to start preaching?â€? Stunned, I looked around to see if someone else had silently eased up behind me, but there was no one there. Even as I thought, he really must be short on conversational material, singing is my thing, I replied. “Me? Preaching? Where’d you get that idea? That’s not me, you saw what I do…I sing, that’s what I do.â€? Throwing up his hands in “I surrenderâ€? mode he said, “Don’t get mad at me, I’m just the messenger. I’m just telling you what God told me to tell you–that’s what I do.â€? I politely smiled, shook his hand again and hightailed it away from him and proceeded to avoid what I considered the “crazyâ€? man till we departed. Later that afternoon, on our break before attending the 6 p.m. Good Friday service, I told my sister and her husband of my conversation with the elderly minister concluding with, “If people don’t’ have anything to say, they really should just be quiet.â€? With that grand assessment I stormed upstairs to my apartment, congratulating myself on having nipped that nonsense in the bud. A month later, the nagging thought occurred. What if he wasn’t just making conversation?Again I thoroughly and ruthlessly squelched the idea of entertaining such a thought. Not me! Why would God…choose me I mean, I’ve been here for 37 years, I think I would have known by now of any leanings in that direction. Plus I’ve heard many extraordinary and captivating testimonies of “the callâ€? and so I just know that were I to be chosen, I would be alone not in a crowded room so I could say that God was probably talking to my neighbor and I overheard and I should expect nothing less than the halleluiah chorus to be played accompanied by a ray of light shining through a fluffy white cloud that would illuminate just me. Can you say wrong? I received “the callâ€? during one of the lowest periods of my life…

 

The Call or “Before the Surrender”

 

“When

are you

going to

start

preaching?”

 

The morning of Good Friday in April, 2002 began just like any other:–I rolled over in my bed eyelashes fluttering rapidly as I peered myopically at the alarm clock. Satisfied that once again I’d beaten the alarm, I returned to my previous position and contemplated the ceiling as I prayed in my mind, good morning God! Then without interrupting the flow of my prayer, I reached over, beat the alarming clock into submission, and continued, I thank you for waking me up this morning… My prayer complete, I jumped out of bed, (actually more of a sideways shuffle) and headed for the bathroom. It was a day I anticipated with glee, a day devoted to God. My only complaint, why did it have to begin so early? Our family had begun a tradition of attending three services on Good Friday. One at 7 a.m. featuring all women preachers, another at 12 noon in a Senior Center; and the grand daddy of them all at 6 p.m. This one featured seven heavy hitting preachers from the New York and New Jersey areas who were accompanied by seven bumping choirs who sang earth stirring songs. (the Christian equivalent of the “Drop it Like it’s Hot” phenomena). After a rousing round of women who brought new revelation to the seven last words of Jesus on the Cross. One which stuck in my mind was delivered by Rev. Jackie McCullough who had the word “It is Finished!” — In her exposition, she posed the theory that becoming a Christian, finishes our lives as sinners, but our lives in Christ has just begun. This theory relegates the stagnancy of many believers and stuff and nonsense and points to the fact that mustard seed faith will get you into heaven, but great faith is what gets you through, here on earth. This was followed by a song entitled “Lord I’m Available to You” that talks about dedicating all the gifts we receive from God, back to use in His service, to reach His people who are brokenhearted and in need of freedom from whatever vices hold them down. I was in tears after that and pretty pensive as we traveled from the morning service to the noon service. Since it was located in a Senior Center, the church wasn’t as grand as the structure of the church hosting the morning service, but where there presence of the Lord is, there is reverence. With the high from the previous service still in full force, I sang more heartily than usual, I listened more attentively to each preacher, with the first preacher getting my attention, because his sermon was geared towards encouraging the youth, and as a former youth choir director and an overgrown kid myself, you say the word youth and you’ve got my attention. So after his sermon, I smiled in acknowledgment (kinda that “Good word sir!” thing we do) whenever our eyes met. Which seemed to be quite often, now that I think about it, but being used to folks staring at me, I didn’t really take it on. When it was my Pastor’s turn to render the word, I sang the song he’d requested entitled, “I Believe, So Why Should I Worry or Fret.” Upon resuming my seat, Minister no. 1 was still nodding and smiling at me, but since it wasn’t a lechorous look or smile, I continued smiling then refocused my attention to the word. ### Having congratulated all the ministers and schmoozed with their wives or choir members, I made a beeline for the most important section of the room. Nope, not the bathroom, the food table! I was almost there when I was intercepted by Minister no. 1 who shook my hand, smiled beatifically at me then asked, “When are you going to start preaching?â€? Stunned, I looked around to see if someone else had silently eased up behind me, but there was no one there. Even as I thought, he really must be short on conversational material, singing is my thing, I replied. “Me? Preaching? Where’d you get that idea? That’s not me, you saw what I do…I sing, that’s what I do.â€? Throwing up his hands in “I surrenderâ€? mode he said, “Don’t get mad at me, I’m just the messenger. I’m just telling you what God told me to tell you–that’s what I do.â€? I politely smiled, shook his hand again and hightailed it away from him and proceeded to avoid what I considered the “crazyâ€? man till we departed. Later that afternoon, on our break before attending the 6 p.m. Good Friday service, I told my sister and her husband of my conversation with the elderly minister concluding with, “If people don’t’ have anything to say, they really should just be quiet.â€? With that grand assessment I stormed upstairs to my apartment, congratulating myself on having nipped that nonsense in the bud. A month later, the nagging thought occurred. What if he wasn’t just making conversation?Again I thoroughly and ruthlessly squelched the idea of entertaining such a thought. Not me! Why would God…choose me I mean, I’ve been here for 37 years, I think I would have known by now of any leanings in that direction. Plus I’ve heard many extraordinary and captivating testimonies of “the callâ€? and so I just know that were I to be chosen, I would be alone not in a crowded room so I could say that God was probably talking to my neighbor and I overheard and I should expect nothing less than the halleluiah chorus to be played accompanied by a ray of light shining through a fluffy white cloud that would illuminate just me. Can you say wrong? I received “the callâ€? during one of the lowest periods of my life…

 

Yes…I WILL

To continue the discussions of Practicing Abstinence, Love – Part I and Love – Part II, let me tell you a little story.

Once upon a time there was a woman named Lee, who was in a relationship with a man named Dom. Dom and Lee had been together for twelve years when Lee got a message from God. Now Lee was a Baptist and Dom was a Catholic (Catholics didn’t seem to be in on the whole message from God thingy, or maybe it was just Dom?)

Anyway, Lee attended church every Sunday and was very active in the choir and any church events that came up. Although she would invite Dom to attend church with her, aside from one or two visits, he declined her invitation on the regular.

 

Knowing that a family that prays together stays together, Lee made several visits to his church and although she considered some of the services quite dry, (No clapping, no amen’s…nothing) she was pleased to realize that no matter the delivery, God’s word stands on its own. Anyway, Lee told Dom about her message from God, which pretty much amounted to, “You’re fornicating…stop it…now!”

Needless to say, Dom was not a happy camper because he couldn’t understand what the big deal was all about (probably because Dom and Lee were scheduled to be married within six months). Dom reluctantly agreed to “project abstinence” probably thinking that he’d wear Lee down, eventually. The first week went by pretty well, but the second week began the question of parameters of “project abstinence.” The themes ranged from …”As long as there’s no penetration, it isn’t sex,” to “How about we watch each other…you know…”

Lee didn’t want to know, because she was experiencing a new lease on life. A new clarity of thought and spiritual and emotional well-being like she hadn’t experienced in years!

High on the hog and confident that Dom’s discontent was just a drop in the bucket, she never really noticed when Dom stopped asking. Or maybe she just thought that he was dealing as well. Then with the newfound clarity, she began to notice that Dom was doing things that would deliberately anger her, so that arguments would begin and he could exit the scene.

Lee realized that things were escalating to a breaking point, but determined to hold things together, she sucked up the strife, continued to be the peacemaker that she had always been and told herself only three more months. She then noticed that Dom, upped his game of “anger the fiancee” with really blatant, in your face, you-better pop-your neck-and-roll-your-eyes-at-me-or-you’re-not-a-strong-black-woman antics.

Lee finally gave in and told Dom that she wanted to speak with him. She gave him the it’s not working out speech and returned the quite ugly engagement ring. They both wept beautiful tears, hugged each other and said the placating words that people usually say at times like that, “I love you, but I guess, sometimes, love is just not enough” (What the heck is that crap?)

As she watched Dom, drive away, Lee felt two parts relief and one part disappointment. She knew that Dom had just angered her to the point of frustration, so that she would be the one to end the relationship, instead of him. She couldn’t help seeing that as a weak and less than a manly thing to do. She also figured, that twelve years, deserved more consideration than that.

She then went into her house and quietly told her mother and daughter that the relationship had ended, but in amicable manner. They rallied around her, and being the strong black woman that she was, she pooh poohed their pitying looks and comforting hugs and went into her bastion of solitude (bathroom), turned on the water and cried like a baby.

She considered it only correct when Dom called the next day, to see if she was alright. But when the phonecalls continued to come in everyday, as though nothing had changed and all was well, she began to unravel a bit and a bit of her lassitude, began to slide into the anger mode. But, being one to avoid a conflict, she simply began avoiding Dom’s phonecalls.

She thought that it was obvious that she didn’t want to speak with him, until he began calling her mother, her daughter, her sister, her brother-in-law and then her co-workers, to find out why Lee wasn’t returning or avoiding his phonecalls. Was the brother really that thick…or just insensitive?

All was well, for a little while, until Lee received a phonecall from Dom. He had news for her that he just had to tell her in person. Filled with triumph, Lee thinks to herself, I knew his a** would come crawling back, but I didn’t expect it this soon! She retained that sense of confidence, even as they met face to face and he stuttered and mumbled his way through the message of his impending fatherhood, as he looked at Lee with hopeful eyes.

Meanwhile, Lee is thinking to herself, “Oh heyell nawww, I know this negro is not standing in front of me, telling me that he’s gotten someone pregnant already! Wait…a minute…this sounds like overlap to me! I oughta, I should…nawww, going to jail over a no account man, is not really the game plan!” Face impassive, not displaying a lick of the thoughts and strong emotions going through her, she simply said, “Is that all? Thanks for sharing.” turned and went back into her house.

Once inside, she listened for the car engine which signaled his departure, then she finally allowed the anger she felt full reign and open her mouth to emit a silent scream. Two weeks later, via her mother, she learned that he was getting married to the “mother” of his child and wedding plans were in progress.

 

A month later as she packed her bags for the day and left her office, she knew that she was not returning, as she carefully placed one foot in front of the other, talking herself through making the trip home and into the sanctuary of her room, walking endless, slowly towards the moment in time she’d feared all her adult life…the moment where she quietly lost it.

It was there, sitting on her bed staring at the wall, her arms wrapped around herself, she rocked to and fro and allowed herself to acknowledge the emptiness that was her reality.The busyness of work no longer a shield, she faced herself for the first time in years and realized that she was angry! She wanted to know why? Why wasn’t I good enough Lord? Why wasn’t the love enough Lord? What’s wrong with me Lord? Maybe if I hadn’t told him the truth about my dad? Where were you Lord? When my life was going all to hell…where were you? You know what? I give up…I can’t take it anymore!

And as if those were the magic words necessary, Lee suddenly felt a warmth and a peace seeping into her being and wrapping itself around her mind and heart as before her very eyes a kaleidoscope of her life played and God showed her moments in her life unbeknowst to her, where He’d preserved her from harm. At that point, Lee was filled with contrition and repentance, and surrendered her will to God’s call on her life to be a minister of the gospel.

To Be continued…