by Pat Simmons
I had stirred the pot. Now it was boiling as Mackenzie twisted her mouth, locked her brows, and her nostrils swelled back at me. “Don’t use your deafness as an excuse. Are you saying you’re going into a healing service, but don’t expect, no—don’t have enough faith in God that He will heal you?”
I swept my hand down my face, but I couldn’t rub off my frustration. Yes, I was deaf, but Mackenzie’s hearing was definitely malfunctioning. “What I’m saying is my faith in God is not dependent on my hope to hear again.”
I paused and then began to talk, “My faith is much bigger than that. I don’t need God to perform a miracle for me to believe that He can whether He chooses to or not,” I said, agitated. “Hearing God’s voice is not always physical. Sometimes, it’s spiritual.”
“You don’t have to yell.”
Inhaling, I measured my breathing and apologized. “Listen, baby, people who don’t know God are healed every day. Christians who know God die every day, hoping for a healing. God is God, and He does what He chooses.”
“It sounds good on paper.” Mackenzie folded her arms with too much force. “Just drive.” She turned away and stared out the window. I pounded the steering wheel with my fist, causing Mackenzie to jump.
“I can’t believe this. Two people who love each other, on their way to church, and arguing like this.” I spoke my mind whether she heard me or chose not to. That was up to her.
Frustrated, I turned the ignition. Mackenzie grabbed my hand, pointing to the gear. I never turned my car off. This was not a good example of why I needed to hear. Shifting into drive, I pulled out the lot, praying for green lights all the way.
CHAPTER 33
“Noel, don’t let your lack of faith keep you from getting your healing tonight. Without it, it’s impossible to please Him,” Mackenzie stated before opening the car door the moment I pulled up to the church entrance.
Mackenzie fled the car before I could shift the gear into park. She nodded her thanks as a brother opened the church door. With too much attitude in her walk, she crossed over the threshold without looking back.
I was really getting tired of Mackenzie’s on and off moods. When I couldn’t find a vacancy in the parking lot, I exited to cruise the neighborhood for curb parking.
It also gave me time to clear my head. I didn’t want to enter God’s house like this, and I would be a fool to turn down anything God gave me, including faith. Did I see pity in Mackenzie’s eyes? I hoped not, because hate was a strong word and I hated to be pitied.
Parking some distance away, my mood improved with each step toward church. Mackenzie may have had good intentions, but she hadn’t walked in my shoes. Once inside the vestibule, I had to negotiate around people to enter the sanctuary.
The church was already packed and we had twenty minutes before service began. The energy was high, and the beat of the music vibrated through my body, calming the conflicts that battled in my mind. I searched the interpreters’ chair, but Mackenzie was absent. Where was she?
Not far away from the Deaf Ministry’s section, Mackenzie stood clapping in a pew. She craned her neck as she kept a watchful eye out for me. All the times I wanted my woman sitting next to me during service, this wasn’t a good time. Would our disagreement continue in church?
I started to turn back and find another seat when a brother tapped me. Most of his words were indistinguishable, but I understood, “The lady says there’s room.” Schooling my expressions, I thanked him as I crawled over people’s feet to get to Mackenzie.
We stared at each other and Mackenzie apologized. When I didn’t, she stepped on my shoes. Assuming it was an accident, I ignored her blunder as I laid my Bible on the seat and knelt to pray.
When I stood, Mackenzie was waiting for me. I still wondered about the things she said, but to avoid a full fledge war, I signed, “Okay, I’m sorry. Thanks for sitting with me tonight.”
“It’s a special night. I wouldn’t want to be in any other seat with anyone else.”
The spiritually charged service was underway when Nick strolled in with two attractive ladies. He nodded as he passed me. What was he up to as Valerie inconspicuously shot daggers at Nick when he sat in eye’s view of the Deaf section?
When Evangelist Langham stepped to the pulpit, Valerie began signing. “Praise the Lord everybody in this Holy Place. Let him that has breath, praise the Lord. While you’re still standing, turn your Bibles to 3 John 3 and let’s read: Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.”
I sucked in my breath. It was the same scripture from Mother’s Day service. The guest preacher asked us to be seated.
“Tonight, we’re going to ask and believe God to not only prosper our bodies for whatever it needs, but for our soul that we can be more like Him,” Valerie continued to sign, but her fingers didn’t dance like Mackenzie’s.
“Please turn to the Book of Acts. Although I’d love to read every example of people being healed, time will not permit me, but Acts 14 gives us a good example about a crippled man and his faith to be healed.”
Nudging me, Mackenzie gave me her best angelic look as the evangelist began to preach. Her expressions warmed my heart. Then one dark, fine eyebrow lifted. “I told you so.”
Exhaling an agitated breath, I refocused on Valerie without responding.
Not long after she began, the preacher concluded the sermon with, “Okay, let’s allow the Holy Ghost to explode in this place. You’ve heard the Word, now let’s believe it as you hurry to the altar. C’mon, c’mon, move quickly. God’s already got His number who He will heal. Let it be you.”
Valerie ceased signing as people moved uncontrollably to the front. Pride aside, men ran, but some women beat them. A few wheelchairs began to roll. Instantly, I thought about my foot washing partner, Brian, and if he were in the sanctuary. I felt like a hypocrite, wondering if Brian was content with his limp or would he go to the altar for a miracle.
Mackenzie elbowed me again. As I stepped back, so she could scoot pass me, she grabbed my wrist in a hurry, tugging me to the front. “Noel, let’s see what God is going to do for you.”
This time, I encircled both her wrists. “Let the people who need to be healed go.”
We stood in the pew with a stalemate as others jostled us. “Mackenzie, I’m a man, not a child who needs to be led around.”
“I’m sorry.” She rubbed her fist in a circular motion in her chest.
“Good.” Then feeling like the bad person, I took her hand and tugged her to the front. We joined others who hurried as if it was a one-day sale at Nordstrom. While we inched closer, Evangelist Langham lifted her hand and touched a school-aged boy who wore eyeglasses as thick as a piece of bread. A tight strip of black elastic band held them in place.
“Remove your glasses, child.” When he obeyed, she touched his eyelids with two fingers in a manner I could only describe as a Three Stooges stunt. The boy jumped in his place. Minutes later, he was rejoicing. When he raised his hand, the evangelist grabbed it and raced up the pulpit steps.
She asked someone two rows from the front to hold up his Bible. A brother did. “Now read,” she commanded the boy.
“Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy lad…lay…”
Patting him on his shoulder, she stopped him. “That’s all right, baby. The word is laden. That means weighed down. “Did he read it word for word?” She asked the Bible holder with a smirk. She knew the answer. When he nodded, an explosion erupted. The saints worshipped God, including Mackenzie and me.
When Mackenzie stumbled, my arm encircled her waist. When I looked down to see what had blocked our path, I was shocked. Brian! He was dragging his leg as he walked. Holding onto Mackenzie, I steadied him.
He gripped my belt and used me as his support. “Thanks, Brother Noel. I was getting tired and my legs hurt if I stand too long.”
“Not a problem,” I reassured him as my arms held on to him on my right sid
e and Mackenzie on the left. That’s when the line seemed to advance.
When it was Brian’s turn, I released him as he limped his way to Evangelist Langham. Mackenzie began to pray. The evangelist laid hands on Brian and had him stretch out his arms. She squatted and appeared to punch him in his knees. “Ouch,” I said for him.
When I blinked, I missed what happened for Brian to land on his feet. He leaped a few more times before he raced off around the church, scrambling as he moved from left to right. Lifting my hands in amazement, I wiggled my fingers. Before my eyes, I had just witnessed God’s healing power.
Soon it was our turn in front and Mackenzie lifted her hands as she received prayer. A few minutes later, I stood before Evangelist Langham. She looked me squarely in my eyes. “What are you seeking from God?”
“His will in my life, and my hearing restored if that is His will,” I answered.
Nodding several times, she laid her hand on my forehead. As her lips moved rapidly, I prayed until she removed her hand, which seemed a bit long while others were waiting. “God is pleased. Let your blessings be according to His Will.”
The healing service lasted for hours until the aisle was clear of seekers. Besides the physical healings I witnessed, I guessed others were spiritually delivered.
Finally, Pastor Coleman gave the benediction. Taking Mackenzie’s hand, I led her to the foyer to wait while I went for the car. When I saw Brian, I made a detour. We hugged, grinned, and I looked him over. He showed off the handiwork by shaking his leg. “God did all right, didn’t He? Look what a little faith can do.”
CHAPTER 34
Friday morning, I logged onto my computer after completing my morning ritual. I expected emails from Mackenzie, but there weren’t any. Surprisingly, Nick had emailed me. Although we exchanged addresses a while ago, we had never contacted each other.
Noel, she’s jealous man. Can you believe she actually came up to me last night after service? She played hard to get for about fifteen minutes before she allowed me—according to her—to take her out next week.
I can’t believe I’m in love with that snobby woman, but I am. It was worth bribing my cousins to come with me, but after last night, they said they’ll definitely be back. Nick.
I chuckled. I didn’t have to guess that the “she” he was referring to was Valerie. I had to give him credit, Nick was tenacious. Before logging off, I sent Mackenzie a “thinking of you” e-card, proposing a dinner date for later to celebrate her last day of class for the school year.
At work, my executive meeting ran longer than expected. Then I missed the opportunity to send Mackenzie an instant message while her class was at recess. It was almost eleven before I was able to fire her off an email, suggesting any Italian restaurant of my choice, I joked, knowing she preferred Chinese and Jamaican dishes.
By early afternoon, I had cleared my desk to leave. I stopped to see my assistant on my way out. “I don’t care if the building catches on fire, call the fire department, our insurance company, and then me. In other words, I’ll be unavailable.”
She gave me an “aye, aye, Captain” salute.
Thanks to road construction, class had already dismissed for the summer by the time I arrived at Mackenzie’s school. Girls raced across the campus, flinging their mandatory sweaters from a chilly morning in the air and dumping stuffed backpacks to the ground.
Not to be outdone, the boys ripped off their ties as they barreled toward the playground. Since the day was breezy and sunny, I decided to get out and wait for Mackenzie as I leaned against the hood of my car.
Soon the vision of my thoughts descended the school steps. Her hair whirled in the wind. I jogged to her as she struggled with a large box with a year’s worth of material.
“Hi,” Mackenzie greeted, releasing her load. “This is the last of it.” Our heights matched as she was perched two steps higher than me.
“Hi, baby. Did you get my email about dinner? You know I was kidding about Italian, but we can go wherever you want.”
“How about my house and we can order in?” She didn’t look happy.
“Only, if you show me a smile.”
Mackenzie obliged, but I learned from my mother when a woman wants to talk, let her or you will regret it later. “Okay. Why don’t you call something in on the way home and I’ll trail you.”
The delivery driver from the Chinese Wok beat us to Mackenzie’s house. Once we were at our cars, I retrieved her box and carried it inside. Fred and I exchanged hellos as he left. I returned outside where the man was scratching his head as he scuffled through the orders. I tapped him on the shoulder, startling him as he fumbled with a bag.
“Sorry.” I should’ve known better. The gesture annoys me when someone sneaks up on me. “Mind if I take a look?”
Shrugging, he moved aside. White bags with handwritten tickets stapled on the outside were lined up in a box. I could see his aggravation as I squinted to make out the scribbled notes. I grabbed two sacks that appeared to be ours and reached into my pocket. I gave him a twenty dollar bill. “Thanks, keep the change, man.”
When I walked into Mackenzie’s house, she already had utensils on the table. We blessed our food and ate until the last morsel had disappeared. Together we cleared the table, I rinsed the dishes off and she loaded them into the dishwasher. Once we were in her living room, I sat on the sofa, and patted the spot next to me. When she declined, I frowned.
“Noel,” she paused, struggling for a deep breath. Moisture glazed her eyes as she began to pace. A grave burden seemed to have suddenly weighed her down.
My heart dropped in concern. Something wasn’t right. I stood to hug her, but she refused me.
“You know I want whatever God has for you, which includes your healing. I really feel—no—I know if you would’ve asked God and really believed, He would’ve healed you.”
Instead of towering over her, I threw my arms up and sank to the sofa. “Oh, we’re back to this again?” Did this woman have any idea what “let it go” meant? I doubt it.
“Noel, I had to practically drag you to the altar. What was wrong? Do you want to remain deaf? Last night was your window of opportunity. God was healing people right before our eyes,” she pleaded then frowned. “If I hadn’t been sitting next to you, nudging you along, you wouldn’t have even gone, would you?” Folding her arms, she drew the line and waited for my response.
“I’ve never lied to you, Mackenzie, so the answer is no.” She didn’t say anything, but her shocked expression told a lengthy story that she couldn’t wait to share. Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees. “I sought the Lord to make you happy. God had already ministered to me years ago. Is that the only reason you sat next to me?”
“I can’t believe you said that. It was a healing service. Why wouldn’t you go?”
My nostrils flared. This time I did stand. “Why did you go?”
“For you,” she pointed, accusingly.
“That’s where you made a mistake. Mackenzie, you should’ve gone for yourself.”
Tapping her forehead, she inhaled. “Listen, that’s not the only reason I sat with you. I wanted us to share the experience of the service. You’ve really only been back to church for less than a year. You know scriptures, but…”
Seemingly frustrated, she stopped. “The bottom line is I prayed for you that God would give you enough faith to believe.”
She grinned to appease me. It didn’t. With a concentrated effort, I shook off my accelerating anger. Any other woman, I wouldn’t have even dignified with an answer, but I loved Mackenzie. I didn’t realize she had such little faith in my relationship with God.
“Had it ever occurred to you, my sweet little woman, that I’m the head of my household—me? I don’t need you to run the show for me. I’ve let you run our relationship because I enjoy letting you think you’re controlling it. Second, faith to be healed comes by hearing, and I didn’t hear any words from God.”
She reached for my arm
s and I let her—that was the lover in me, but the man in me wanted to keep my distance, sulk, and leave, slamming the door on my way out.
“Sweetie, the Bible says we have not, because we ask not. Ask and it shall be given, whatever you ask in prayer, ask in His Name, ask in faith...”
“Enough! Enough about you questioning my faith,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I know a few scriptures myself, Miss Norton. How about…faith is a substance of thing hoped for, the evidence of things not seen, and without it it’s impossible to please God.”
“I’m here to please God, Mackenzie, not you. Only God knows the number of times I hoped for me to regain my hearing. In Hebrews, I know, by faith the elders obtained a good report. Through faith, we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear.
Mackenzie opened her mouth to interrupt, but my hand stopped her. “No,” I said, “You questioned my faith. By faith Abel offered God a more excellent sacrifice. Don’t judge my sacrifice, Mackenzie.”
“By faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death. By faith Noah, being warned of God of things not seen as yet moved with fear, prepared an ark to the saving of his house. By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed. Wait a minute.” I held up my finger. She was going to listen about how I studied, learned, and prayed for that intensity of faith as I continued to rattle off quotes.
“By faith Abraham, when he was tried, offered up Isaac, but Abraham believed God’s promise. By faith, Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau concerning things to come. By faith Joseph, when he died, made mention of the departing of the children of Israel. See, baby, faith…it’s a generational thing and it can be passed down.” I lifted my hand to God for all the scriptures that I recalled.
“Moses used that same faith to pass through the Red sea. By faith Joshua followed God’s instructions to crumble the walls of Jericho with a shout and trumpet blast. The faith of prostitute, Rahab, saved her from death. Don’t get me started with Samson, Samuel, and prophets.
