[Iris and Lily 01.0 - 03.0] The Complete Series

by Angela Scipioni

  “Oh, thank you, thank you!” said the woman. “The Lord is faithful, the Lord is faithful. He has delivered me - the doctor said all is well. All is well.”

  “Praise God!” exclaimed Donna, releasing the embrace, and taking the woman’s hands into hers.

  “Donna,” chimed the woman, holding Donna at arm’s length and surveying her body. “How is that diet of yours going? I’ve been keeping you in my prayers.”

  Donna blushed, and looked down at the floor. “Not great, I’m afraid,” she said sheepishly. “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

  “Amen,” said the woman. “Amen to that.”

  “Bethany,” said Donna. “I’d like you to meet my next-door neighbor - and friend - Lily Diotallevi.” Donna turned to Lily and said, “Lily, this is my dear friend and sister in the Lord, Bethany.”

  “Lily!” Bethany released Donna’s hands and opened her arms, taking Lily into an embrace, rocking her back and forth. “It is so wonderful to have you here. So wonderful.”

  “It’s nice to be here,” said Lily, uncomfortable at being hugged so enthusiastically by someone she did not know, but touched by the exuberance of Bethany’s welcome.

  “Has the Lord blessed you with a husband?” Bethany asked.

  “Do you mean am I married?” Lily asked.

  “Why of course that’s what I mean, of course that’s what I mean.” Bethany’s slick bright smile froze in place, as a look of puzzlement passed over her face.

  “Yes, I am.” Lily replied. Worried that her request for clarification may have been misconstrued as mockery, Lily added, “Yes, the Lord has blessed me with a husband. We’ve been married almost ten years.”

  “Praise God!” shouted Bethany. “And how many little ones do you have?”

  Donna nudged Bethany in the ribs with her elbow.

  “None yet,” said Lily, looking down at the floor. “But we’re working on it.”

  Ten years? How did it get to be so late? What had she done with the time, besides wait? She waited for Joe to stop gambling, she waited to get successfully past three months of pregnancy, knowing that a baby would infuse new life into her marriage, and ease the nagging sense of failure that seemed to always be in her shadow, she waited to get happier enough to continue on and she waited to get miserable enough to leave. But no matter how long she waited, things always stayed the same; they remained just this side of bearable.

  “Donna - you must bring Lily to the next PTW meeting. You simply must bring her!” Bethany’s gaze shifted across the room. She shot her hands up into the air again, wriggled her fingers and shouted, “Phoebe! Phoebe!” Turning to Lily, but keeping her arms raised she said, “So blessed to meet you... so blessed. Donna - I’ll talk to you during fellowship after service.” Bethany flitted off, shouting, “The Lord is faithful, Phoebe, the Lord is faithful!”

  “She is such a stitch,” said Donna. “I wish I had her gift for pure joy.”

  “She sure is happy,” said Lily. “Who’s Petie W.?”

  “It’s a what, not a who - PTW - I was going to tell you about that but I didn’t want to lay too much on you at once. Those of us who are married have a little get-together once a week for coffee and to chat. We call it the Proverbs Thirty-One Wives Club – PTW for short.”

  “Oh,” said Lily. It must be obvious to Donna that she did not get the reference.

  “Basically, it is our mission to strive to be like the wife outlined for us in Proverbs chapter thirty-one. But we also know how hard it is to be that kind of a wife in today’s world. So we get together to offer each other support and encouragement.”

  “Cool,” said Lily. She’d never given much thought to what kind of a wife she was. She took care of Joe, went to work, cleaned the house, did the shopping. What else was there to it, really?

  A white-haired man dressed in a suit and tie entered the vestibule through the double doors that opened from the sanctuary. Piano music spilled out and extinguished the din of chatter as the crowd scrambled eagerly inside, clapping and singing.

  Rise and shine and give God your glory, glory

  Rise and shine and give God your glory, glory

  “I’ll tell you more about it later,” said Donna. She took Lily by the hand and led her forward. “I want to get a good seat so you can really feel Pastor’s passion and energy.”

  “Gee,” said Lily, allowing herself to be dragged forward. “At Sacred Family people run to get the seats in the back so they can leave early without getting caught.”

  “Yeah?” said Donna with a smirk. “Well this ain’t Sacred Family. You’ll see.”

  Lily followed Donna down the aisle, accepting hugs and handshakes from strangers who professed to Lily how wonderful it was that she had joined them and how happy they were to see her. She couldn’t remember ever being received anywhere with such ardor. She and Donna settled into the front pew, and Lily realized that it was the first time she’d ever sat in front at church, having been taught that it was a place of honor that one should not assume for oneself.

  Rise and shine and give God your glory, glory

  Children of the Lord!

  By the time the singing stopped, most of the members of the congregation were left standing with eyes closed, faces tilted toward the sunshine that streamed in through the skylight, their hands raised, palms to the ceiling. The piano whispered gently behind arrhythmic and spontaneous proclamations from the congregation.

  “Thank you Jesus!” shouted one voice.

  “Praise God!” called another.

  “God is good and worthy of praise.”

  “Hallelujah!”

  “Amen!”

  Lily felt uneasy. Her inclination was to kneel and cross herself in silent prayer, but she looked down to discover that there were no kneelers. The room was bright and open, rather than dark and heavy as most churches she’d been in. There was no stained glass, no statues. Even the altar was stark and simple, bearing a vacant cross instead of a crucifix with the image of a dying Jesus hanging upon it. She surveyed the faces around her. They beamed in the morning light. Lily spotted Bethany’s sparkling lips. As if aware of her gaze, Bethany opened her eyes and smiled at Lily with a warmth that melted her discomfort. Lily smiled back. Bethany again closed her eyes, and began moving her lips. Looking around, Lily noticed a small table at the back of the room. It was fitted with a desk lamp, the light of which shined on a man about her age, who was wearing headphones.

  “What’s that guy doing?” Lily asked Donna.

  “Oh, he’s the sound guy. He records the sermons on Sunday - and the entire service on special occasions.”

  “Why?”

  “Sometimes people want to listen to Pastor’s message during the week. Or maybe they can’t get here because they’re sick or whatever, but they don’t want to miss out on the teachings.”

  “You’re kidding.” When Lily was a child, if you had the bad luck to get sick on the weekend the only consolation was that it got you out of going to Mass. “Really?”

  “Yea,” said Donna. “They sell copies of the tapes in the church bookstore.”

  Lily had to squelch a laugh. It was difficult to imagine people waiting in line to purchase a recording of Father Delaney preaching - especially since he seemed to talk about the same three subjects: the importance of tithing, abstaining from sex before marriage, and the evils of birth control. It seemed to Lily that if he wanted parishioners to be more generous when the collection basket came around, he might want to rethink his repertoire.

  A man entered the sanctuary through a door behind the altar. Lily guessed that he was about forty-five years old. He wore a black suit with a gray shirt and a white tie, which accentuated the flecks of gray in his closely cropped black hair. Lily imagined that if she were close enough, she would be able to smell Ivory soap on his skin. Confidently, he approached the dais with a large Bible tucked under his arm. He placed the Bible on the platform, retrieved a piece of paper from his inside breast po
cket, unfolded it and flattened it out in front of him. He looked up, and catching Lily’s eye, he nodded and smiled. Embarrassed, Lily looked down, hoping he did not notice the blush in her cheeks, or that she was the only one in the room who was not rapt in worship.

  “That’s Pastor Halloway,” Donna whispered to Lily. “He’s a gifted preacher. Wait ‘til you hear him.”

  “Good morning, my brothers and sisters!” Pastor Halloway cried.

  “Good morning!” the people replied.

  “Praise God for this amazing day and for the opportunity to gather here in love and worship.”

  The people replied with an assortment of “Thank you Jesus,” “Praise God,” and “Hallelujah!”

  “I give special thanks for our guests this morning.” Pastor Halloway looked at Lily and smiled a perfect white smile. This time she did not turn away. “If you are here visiting us this morning, please raise your hand so that one of our ushers may give you a welcome packet to take home with you today.”

  Donna jabbed Lily lightly with her elbow. “Raise your hand. They give you some really cool stuff.”

  Even though Lily felt conspicuous calling attention to herself in front of all those people, since the Pastor had already spotted her, failure to do so felt almost like a lie. She raised her hand to shoulder level, keeping her elbow bent. Donna grabbed Lily’s wrist and hoisted her hand into the air. The white haired man appeared at the end of the pew and passed a gift bag to Lily. She glanced inside and then looked back up.

  “Welcome,” said the Pastor smiling. “We are so blessed by your presence.”

  Lily’s eyes stung with tears. Stop, she thought. What in the world are you crying about?

  Pastor Halloway took center stage. “My friends, are you in pain this morning? Do you feel forgotten, unloved, burdened by life’s demands? It’s OK to admit that, you know? You are in good company; some of the greatest figures from the Bible struggled and made a hot holy mess of their lives.”

  A tear escaped down Lily’s cheek. She quickly wiped it away. What are you crying about? Don’t cry.

  The pastor looked directly at Lily. “I’m here to tell you that there is nothing you can do that will make you unlovable to God. Even if everyone else scorns you, even if they forget you, neglect you, take you for granted, blame you and shame you, you are innocent in God’s eyes and He is here to soothe your soul.”

  Another tear tumbled down Lily’s cheek. She turned to see how far the door was from where she sat. Even if she could climb over the other people in the pew, she would have to walk the entire length of the room to get out to the vestibule. Now that everyone knew she was a visitor, they would all notice. It would be rude. She rummaged through her purse for a tissue, but the only one she found had a wad of bubble gum balled up inside. She closed her eyes. Stop crying, she demanded of herself. Surely she’d tamed wilder emotions than this. Yet the sadness that was bubbling up inside of her balked at her attempts to control it. She panicked. Donna pulled a tissue out of her pocket and surreptitiously handed it to Lily.

  “Saul was a man who did everything he could to squelch the power of God in his life,” continued the Pastor. “He was the original radical activist. Before his transformation, his cause was hate. But once God transformed him, his cause was love. Radical love.”

  “Amen!” shouted a man.

  “Hallelujah!” cried a woman.

  “In the beginning of chapter twelve of Paul’s letter to the Romans, Paul invites us to present our lives to God, so that God might transform us. If we live this transformed life we will use our gifts, we will humble ourselves, we will love with pure love - offering that love to everyone, even to those who are unloving, who belittle us, who do us harm. When we are transformed, we will be empathic, zealous, prayerful, hopeful and humble.”

  It seemed that the Pastor’s words were directed toward Lily, that he could read her thoughts, that he had somehow peered into her life and had seen the dramas that had been playing out. Joe’s rage, the financial oppression they suffered, Lily’s own anger and frustration, the sorrow over her miscarriages and the trouble she was having conceiving again, and her private but frantic search for an understanding of it all. Tears again came to Lily’s eyes. She resigned herself to them, hoping that if she allowed them a little space, they would speak their piece, then leave her alone. She knew that sometimes if you just had a good cry, you could find clear enough of a path to go on.

  Pastor continued. “The Bible, my friends, is God’s love story. Even when we cannot imagine it, God goes on loving us. Even when our backs are turned to God, God goes on loving us. Even when we are apathetic, God goes on loving us. Even when we have failed miserably at this thing called life, God goes on loving us and pouring His blessings out upon us. There is nothing He cannot do for us, no gift He would not give to us if we would only surrender to His mighty will.”

  The remnants of Lily’s composure crumbled at the idea of being loved so completely, of being treasured, of having her life transformed from one of confusion and strife to one of peace, at the prospect of being blessed with a baby. She wept.

  “We gather here to remember that God loves us and that He is eager and able to perform miracles in your life. He stands at the ready, just waiting for you to say the word. He loves you so much, that He would never come into your life without your invitation. Won’t you invite Him to heal your pain, to show you the way? Won’t you let Him treasure and love you as His precious child?”

  Lily buried her face in her hands, her body convulsing with each sob.

  “Are you feeling the call of the Spirit this morning?” said Pastor Halloway. “Is God speaking to you? If so, I invite you to come forward and invite Jesus into your heart. Let the faithful lay their hands upon you, and usher you into the community of believers.”

  “Do you want to go up there, darlin’?” whispered Donna.

  “I don’t know,” said Lily, gasping quietly.

  Pastor Halloway stood at the front of the sanctuary, with his arms open wide. A young couple came forward, holding hands. They knelt on the floor, holding each other.

  “Welcome, beloved children of God,” said Pastor, as he laid his hands on their heads. “Thank you, Jesus, for your love for these, your lost sheep. In the words you gave us in Matthew, chapter eleven, verse twenty-eight, ‘Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’”

  The sadness within Lily rushed forth as she burst into wrenching, uncontrollable sobbing. What is wrong with me? Please God, make me stop.

  “C’mon,” said Donna, taking Lily’s hand. “I’ll go with you.”

  Lily and Donna sidled their way out of the pew and walked to the front of the room. Together they knelt with the few others who had gathered there.

  Pastor laid his hands on Lily’s head, sending a shock of energy through her body. She bolted in surprise, and her tears immediately ceased.

  “Welcome home, child of God,” Pastor said to Lily. “The Holy Spirit of our Lord Jesus be with you.” He turned to the congregation. “My brothers and sisters, I invite you come up and pray with us.”

  Lily soon found herself surrounded by people. They reached out and placed their hands on her head, her shoulders, her back. With each touch, she felt waves of warmth and calm wash over her. She felt lifted from herself, as though she were dreaming and looking down upon her form, small and frail, encased by the caring embrace of these strangers who considered her one of them. A member of the family. The people around her prayed, some of them silently, some uttering strange words that Lily couldn’t quite make out. But she didn’t care what it looked like, or sounded like, or how bizarre it all seemed. All she cared about was this feeling that filled her so completely that for the moment she forgot the anger that had taken up residence inside her, and the fear she had learned to live with, and th
e stifling sense of lack that had become her constant companion.

  “Pray along with me,” said Pastor. “Jesus, I give you my life. Please transform me into an instrument of your love and peace. Bless my life and make it holy.”

  Jesus, I give you my life. Please transform me into an instrument of your love and peace. Bless my life and make it holy.

  Oh, how I’ve missed you, said a voice. Lily was certain that the voice was of her own thought, and terrified at the prospect that it was not.

  “You OK?” said Donna, as they drove home after service.

  “I feel strange,” said Lily. She sat in the passenger’s seat of Donna’s blue Dodge pickup truck, holding her welcome bag in her lap. The farther they drove from the church, the more she questioned what had happened. Not quite a dream, but unlike any other reality she had experienced - except perhaps that of getting stoned with Frances Jejune in high school - she was unsure of whether to file it under fantasy or fact.

  “Bein’ filled with the Spirit that way can be a little unsettling,” said Donna. “Make sure you rest up today, hear? Take it easy. Give yourself a chance to get acclimated.”

  “I’m embarrassed,” said Lily. “I can’t believe I just fell apart like that.”

  “Now Lily, there’s nothin’ to be gettin’ embarrassed about at all. God’s got to break you open if he’s gonna get inside,” Donna took her right hand from the steering wheel, reached over and squeezed Lily’s hand. “You should no more be embarrassed than an infant should be upon bein’ born. It’s natural.” Donna pulled into her driveway and shut off the engine.

  Lily checked her watch. “Man - it’s forty-five minutes later than I told Joe I would be home. He’s going to be pissed.”

  “The Lord will protect you,” said Donna, patting Lily’s hand.

  Lily looked over at the front windows of her house, and with the recognition that Joe, his anger, his gambling, the bills, the empty nursery and all the challenges of her life were right there on the other side of the glass, the feelings of peace that had overtaken her only minutes ago began their hasty retreat.