by Belvin, Love
I took a seat, hoping to curb my anxiety. As soon as I did my phone vibrated in my hand. It was Lillian saying she was walking in now and would save me a seat in the left section of the main floor, facing the pulpit. I told her I’d be there soon. My eyes went straight to Shannon, who stood apparently uncomfortable as she used her hand to swipe the back of her head while standing near the door. There were two screens in the area, live streaming the service. The head praise and worship leader, who at times behaved like a hype man at a rap concert, began the intro for the first song. The staccato of the hand drums sounded first as he urged the crowd to start praising. They were ready to follow him into the land of praise and worship.
Moments later, the office doors opened. Out came a man I didn’t recognize, then Thaddeus, and then another man I didn’t know but recognized from his constant presence at the pulpit. They all moved swiftly out the door until they noticed Shannon then me. When the ‘pulpit bouncer’ questioned her with his eyes, Shannon gestured over to me with hers. The men stopped a few feet outside the office door and turned to face me. That’s when Ezra gaited out of the threshold with his assured posture. He was dressed in a long black robe with a brilliant purple collar. I smelled his familiar fragrance almost as soon as I registered his presence. His eyes were strained, dissimilar to anything I’d ever seen. Ezra’s focus was very abstract; he was almost a different man. His attention was subdued and acute at the same time because it was obvious that he’d caught on to something being wrong. His enquiring line of sight went to the right at first where Shannon and the men were, and then they traveled over to me. In an instant, there was a flip in his pupils, strangely as if he was coming out of a trance when he recognized me.
Quietly, he ambled over to me, his stride just as broad and confident as always. His head slanted as he came to a halt almost at my toes, landing extremely close to me. His eyes bounced with scrutiny over my head and face.
“A bit much?” His eyes twitched in mine, his wide shoulders creating a hut of intimacy for just him and me.
My mouth dropped at his accuracy and I found myself nodding vigorously, grateful his big body shielded me from the view of his entourage.
“I tried to make it simple with just the second service and having you arrive in just enough time for morning worship,” his words dispensed with empathy.
Once again, Ezra was able to accurately pick up on my mood. It was almost as though he anticipated it, unlike this popup visit I’d paid just minutes before he preached. I could smell his lingering cologne appreciatively. That’s when my tendons loosened and shoulders relaxed. I was able to experience something familiar in this larger than life leader that I knew intimately, in a different facet of his being. The melody from the streaming panels on the wall changed. It decelerated to a slower, more dramatic cadence and tempo. I knew from my experience at Redeeming Souls this was the end of praise and worship. Ezra had to go, though I was still concerned about being here at this new capacity and fearing my feelings for my new husband were about to change, I was prepared to see this day through. I found instant comfort, no longer needing to hold him up.
“I-I’m,” I swallowed hard, timidly licking my lips. “ready to go to my seat now.”
Ezra didn’t move. He took his time raking his gaze over my head and face again, this time releasing a faint smile of amusement.
“Very well, Alexis,” he murmured softly before pivoting, bringing the group behind him into full view. “Alexis is ready to be seated, Sister Shannon,” he spoke loud enough to be heard in the reception area.
I felt my eyes grow. “About that,” my gaze moved from Ezra’s intimidating robed frame to Shannon. “Lillian is holding a seat for me amongst the congregation. I wanna to sit there.”
“Very well,” Ezra nodded. “Sister Shannon, please message the ushers to locate Sister Lillian and escort Alexis there.”
He called me Alexis again! As much as I despised his fondness for my first name, nothing comforted me more that morning than that mundane, formal reference.
Shannon and I left right away, traveling through the palatial and lavish property, being greeted by dozens of people all the way to the main floor. Once we hit the sanctuary, those dozens increased to hundreds of eyes on me as the choir was finishing up their selection. Many of the parishioners had no idea who I was and likely wondered why I was being guided by Shannon and a security person to a pew. My heart raced with each step I took, guilt crashing in on me for my private rendezvous with the man of the hour. When I saw Lillian’s face, I was able to release a shaky breath.
“Dang, girl!” she whispered with electrifying thrill. “I forgot you’re First Lady now. Why aren’t you sitting with the dignitaries?”
“Because I’m where I belong,” I returned without a whisper.
I didn’t have time to catch her reaction to my terse comment when a familiar and mesmeric baritone snatched my attention.
“Good morning, people of God,” his usual deep, self-possessed and rasped tenor drizzled. And per usual, my spine shivered. My eyes went wild in a hurried search for the source of this…melody. “It’s good to be amongst the saints again—well…,” he droned, teasingly. The audience went up in laughter. “…when you’ve been called back to duty unexpectedly from a scheduled leave.” A slow and cunning smile crested upon his face. “Because if I had a choice, there’s only one face I’d prefer spending this rainy Sunday with.”
“I know that’s right, Pastor!” at least ten people yelled out of sequence.
“Yeah!” even more hollered.
The claps, yelps, and other gestures of approval went on and on. Lillian nudged my tense frame. I refused to look at her. If I had I’d lose my cool and expose my internal blush. The other part of me was petrified at the impending attention. Ezra waited patiently for it all to end as he tapped, unaffected, on his tablet, gathering his notes for the sermon, I’d assumed.
“I won’t put her in the spotlight; she doesn’t prefer it, but because I’m sharing her time with you, I would like to acknowledge her privately.”
My breath caught in my chest.
Privately? What the hell, Ezra! We’re in a miniature stadium filled with people!
His eyes remained low, regarding the desktop of the acrylic podium as he whirred in the deepest timbre, “Tidak ada air telah lebih dalam dan tidak lebih manis daripada yang antara kaki kakao Anda.”
Shit! An unwilled shudder surged through me.
It was Indonesian for “No waters have been deeper and none have been sweeter than those between your cacao legs.”
I melted. That instantly, I was liquidly stimulated, keenly responding to his undeniable sensual call. It thrilled and terrified me at the same time. It was a blatant reminder of the way he debased my body using ungodly implements to send me into blissful realms I was sure not many in this very room had ever dreamt of.
“What in the world, Lex!” Lillian gasped wearing the biggest speculative grin.
I seriously doubted anyone in the room, unless that were Indonesian, understood what those sweet carnal words meant. Not even Precious, who was seated in the area next to Ezra’s mother. The sight of her—the reminder—almost burst the bubble of awe I’d been in while observing Ezra in action. I bet she had no clue of the wicked manner in which this man handled me. This time I couldn’t fight my flush. If my skin hadn’t been so dark, the whole room would’ve had an accurate impression of that message.
Then I heard the start of soft music, the low staccato of drums against the strings of a violin and gentle chords of a keyboard blending smoothly. I, frankly, paid no mind to it, still reeling from Ezra’s private reminder of the intimacy we shared on our honeymoon. I watched raptly as he spoke to a few stage people to the side of and behind him, instructing them in some way or another. It wasn’t until the first of the lyrics that I recognized the music.
“The weight… I’m under… I scarce…”
It was In by William McDowell. I’d downloaded the track a
nd listened to it several times over the past few weeks, so I was more acquainted with the tune. When I shifted my line of vision, I noticed the praise and worship leader directing a quartet of singers in front of the mass choir. They hit every delicate note of the tender track seamlessly.
What is this? How did they know—
I heard a semi-familiar melodic voice croon a few of the lyrics in arpeggiated harmony with the talented singers. It was strong, mellifluent, curvy, seductive, and extremely…virile. The audience’s praise bursted blaringly against it. My stunned eyes flew over to find Ezra’s head motionless, facing the podium, still regarding his tablet.
Was that—?
Noooo.
My eyes wandered back over to the small choir and saw the director orchestrating their split notes, bringing to life the various descants and dips needed to achieve the intimate, flowery piece. My body warmed with fond images, memories that would never be erased from my mind. Events between me and the man who concerned and enthralled me all at once. The man who’d tapped into something deep in my essence that I hadn’t quite come to grips with. I found my eyes closing as my head swayed at the provoking energy of the melody, remembering how to fully submit to the proverbial anchor.
It was Ezra. He’d arranged this for me.
Then I heard that commanding masculine timbre belt, “Hold me!” just before the powerful climax of the song burst through. The choir’s vocals hardened, thickened along with the instruments in the most moving harmony, reminding me of when I let go and trusted Ezra to keep me afloat. To care for me when I was unsure and afraid. A smile smoothed on my face. The auditorium bursts with roars and hollers again. I opened my eyes and found his directly on me. This time I caught the adlibber of those strong notes.
It was Ezra.
Holy shit!
He could sing! And I don’t mean just hold a note. No! Ezra created dimensions to the notes. He stretched them out, coiled them…seduced them as they flowed from his hardly parted lips with scarce effort. I didn’t recognize his eyes, though. He faced me, almost belting each melody to me, but it wasn’t his typical hooded lids filled with patent lust. It was a hybrid of a blank stare and a piercing gaze, tuning everyone else out, privately communicating. That phenomenon brought back his words of what it’s like to go from the natural realm to the supernatural. Whatever state my husband was in, it was freaking hot, consuming me all the way until the song ended. I felt weighted in my seat taking in the experience as people lunged took to their feet in praise and/or approval of this unusual musical expression.
Cooling myself, I listened as Ezra went straight into his message. And just before he did, the green beads appeared in his hand. I’d forgotten all about them and my chronic curiosity about the accessory returned tenfold.
The theme of his message was Moving On an Unexpected Call. The premise of it was responding correctly when faced with an unexpected event or request, be it from work, natural disaster, or from God Himself. I had a sneaking suspicion he was referring to his own experience of having to resume his responsibilities here at Redeeming Souls when he was supposed to be applying Deuteronomy 24:5. Either way, he delivered his sermon with effortless passion as he recounted biblical stories of Job and Jonah and the Whale. He applied those references and compared them to contemporary living. Ezra reminded the people that comfort is not a luxury in the Christian walk of faith. We should expect things to go awry and be prepared to respond to them in a manner that brings edification to the body of Christ, even when He isn’t the cause of the disruption.
I won’t pretend to totally ‘get’ everything he spoke of, but I can say the application was easily understood. Ezra mastered fluctuating articulation to meet the masses. He was a master illustrator of words as he used the right pitch, pace, and terms with precision. As he delivered this sermon, it amazed me to watch him go from unflappable composure to expressive and fervent with slight animation while maintaining eloquence throughout it all.
He also spoke about common psychological and physiological implications to improper responses to those unexpected calls when we’re not on guard as believers. Ezra mentioned cardiovascular diseases associated with stress and various addictions that people incur from not aligning their lives with what God has called them to do. He was very detailed and succinct with examples and demonstrations all the way up to the apex of his sermon. His tone turned raspier, the rhythm of his words was delivered on short breaths, and his movements on stage were quicker and more dynamic, yet still controlled. Very few in the room didn’t ascend when he did. He guided them into a place to receive every word he delivered. Ezra was powerful. His entire package was eloquent and I wasn’t the only one perceiving it as such.
By the time Precious mounted the stage—and no less affected than the rest of the congregation as she waved her arms spiritedly in the air, shouting praises, too, on the way to the podium—to retrieve his tablet, Ezra was transitioning into the altar call. His voice was still hoarse, but more quieted and words were recited as a plea. He offered what I’d learned that day to be the benediction where those new to Christ are welcomed to Him via the Sinner’s Prayer, those who’d left their relationship with Him were invited to reconcile, and lastly those needing a spiritual home were welcomed into the fold. As soon as Ezra doled out the invitation to prayer, people were moving from their seats in the double digits, most notably women who jumped to their feet, leaping to the altar. By the time the last person strolled up, there were at least seventy people at the lip of the stage, requesting prayer for the various reasons Ezra categorized.
I’d seen this countless times as a member, but today the number of those at the front of the church seemed to have tripled. It was so overwhelming, Bishop Carmichael joined his son along with other ministers. Ezra orchestrated the production by organizing several corporate prayers and managed to lay hands on quite a few. I couldn’t stand high enough on my tippy toes to follow his every action. I could however, hear him praying in what seemed to be another language. It wasn’t strange for me to see him pray, he did it every morning and various times a day alone. It was a personal commitment for him, almost like a hobby similar to his martial arts and chess playing. But not being able to understand the words he spoke was a strange phenomenon.
“What’s he doing?” I bent to ask Lillian.
“Speaking in tongues?” she asked as though my question had been trivial.
Hmmmm… I thought speaking in tongues was just an extreme act church people put on for show like shouting all over the building. Seeing Ezra do it made me question the validity of that theory. The more he did it, something twisted in my chest. I didn’t understand it, but like hearing his voice or smelling his natural body oils, I had a visceral response to it.
I’m getting too attached to this man.
Quite honestly, I hadn’t recognized my husband throughout his entire sermon. It was as if he’d transformed into another being entirely. Even his posture changed from confident and well-poised to spiritual warrior. And now seeing him hold emotionally-struck grown men at their heads and shoulders petitioning on their behalf through prayer, gave me new insight into his being. The women, on the other hand, didn’t impress me. Many of them made me feel unusually territorial as I watched every move made by them and my husband as they interacted. I felt sick with jealousy and what was more disconcerting was I didn’t care. I cringed each time his hands touched a feminine shoulder.
As the last few prayer-requestors ambled spiritedly back to their seats, Shannon appeared at the end of our pew requesting that I go with her. I collected my things, quickly said my goodbyes to Lillian and followed her to the nearest exit of the sanctuary.
“Pastor Carmichael didn’t want you pummeled in the crowd during the mass exodus,” she explained discreetly once we were in the hall. “I’m sure people would overwhelm you with feedback on your wedding and stuff like that. Would you like to go into the Bishop’s Lounge where First Lady and other ministerial staff gather after service?
There are refreshments in there.”
I took a moment to consider that. “Ummmmm… Is that where Pastor Carmichael goes?”
She grinned. “He’s not the most social before and after speaking. He’ll be headed straight to the Bishop’s office to unwind.”
“I can wait for him there.”
Shannon reacted to that request similarly to the way she did when I asked to be seated in the pews. Then she relented.
“Sure. Right this way.”
Ezra
The elevator opened as we returned from the sanctuary. Trekking back to the office, I was still coming down, body gradually resuming its normal functions. My heart rate was slowing and cognition progressively sharpening. My senses were slowly returning. When the double doors opened to the waiting area of the office, I saw two figures waiting near the sofa, one I’d come to recognize with blinded eyes.
As I approached her, Alexis alternated her balance from one hip to the other. Her hands played restlessly at the hem of her peplum blouse. I hadn’t noticed her form-fitting maroon skirt with a matching top when I’d seen her before service. I must’ve been in transition at that time. She wore modest black closed toe pumps that didn’t exaggerate her already extreme height; I could still look down on her. And those eyes… The closer we drew to them, I could perceivably pick up on her agitation. Now closer, I saw her dilated russet brown pupils had expanded, moving rapidly. My strides grew longer until I was in her person.
I rubbed her cheek with the back of my hand to comfort her. Before speaking, I observed her while allowing my calm demeanor to influence her temper. I studied her chocolate features trying to pick up the source of her discomfit.
“Is everything all right?” I asked gently.
Alexis’ tongue darted quickly, swiping her top lip. Her eyes fell. “Yes, sir.”
That language…gesture, an act of inferiority.
