by E. N. Joy
On numerous occasions, Locksie had prayed to God that He would bless her life in such a way that Dawson would line up with her and begin to seek God. She thought those prayers were starting to be answered when he joined church last week. But now she was beginning to think that it had nothing to do with God at all, but that the devil had played a dirty trick on her. What Locksie needed to understand, though, as she grew in her Christianity, was that a blessing delayed didn’t always mean a blessing denied.
She parked in the very rear of the church parking lot, and turned the car off with a sigh. She didn’t know what she was going to tell those people when she walked in there without Dawson. She thought about telling them that he got sick, or that he hurt himself working out at the gym and that’s why he was not in church. She was immediately convicted for just thinking about telling lies. Then Locksie thought that maybe she should just go back home and try again next Sunday. That would give her an entire week to talk it up. That way, Dawson would know that he was expected to go to church with her. Perhaps that’s where she went wrong this past week. She didn’t mention going to church or even ask Dawson to go to Bible study with her because she didn’t want to be pushy. But now she could see that wasn’t the proper route to take. So, she convinced herself to come back to church next week, and this time with Dawson in tow.
Locksie started her car up and prepared to creep off, but then one of the brothers of the church tapped on her window and waved hello to her as he, his wife and two children made their way into the church. She had been outed; now there was no turning back. She cut off the car engine, and with her head down from shame and embarrassment, she headed inside the church.
“Good morning, Sister Locksie,” the door greeter said as she hugged Locksie tightly. “God bless you, my sister.”
“God bless you too.” Locksie waited for the greeter to look over her shoulder as if to say, “Where’s that boyfriend of yours who took up space down at the altar to join church last week?” But that look never came.
Locksie took a seat toward the rear of the church, rather than in her usual second-row seat. She knew if she walked down the aisle to the front by herself, she would probably catch on fire with all the eyes burning her back. As one of the ministers began to exhort, Locksie silently thanked God that the flag ministry didn’t have to flag this week. No way would she have wanted to stand in front of the church while everyone whispered about her.
Praise and worship was just as awesome as ever, but humiliation kept Locksie on her butt instead of on her feet. She figured the less attention she drew to herself, the less people would be reminded that just last Sunday she was whoopin’ and hollerin’ down at the altar about the man she was living in sin with possibly turning his life over to the Lord. Locksie had seen Dawson’s joining church as a step closer to him eventually learning how wrong their lifestyle was. Then he’d surely propose to her and make her an honest woman. But somehow, the scenario just didn’t seem so likely anymore.
After Reverend Franklin’s sermon, “Removing the Mask of Guilt and Shame,” Locksie sneaked out of the sanctuary and into the bathroom during altar call. That part of the program was just too much of a reminder of the cruel joke Dawson had played on her and God last week. At first she was just going to leave church altogether, but she knew the benediction sealed the service, and she wanted Reverend’s message to be embedded in her spirit so that she could go home and meditate on it. Besides, she wouldn’t leave the movie theatre without seeing the ending, so she wanted to show the head of the church, and the Lord, that same respect. She would get up during the movie and go potty, though; so that helped with some of the guilt she felt by hemming herself up in a stall until she thought altar call might be over.
Locksie had entered the last stall of three, put the toilet lid down, sat down and then put her head down as well. Everything was down, including her spirit. She wanted to pray. She wanted to talk to God, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She knew the devil was right outside that bathroom door doing the victory dance, and when man gives Satan the victory, that’s a point he could have given to God instead. Locksie was certain that she was the last person on earth God wanted to hear from anyway. The Bible says that Jesus wept. So did Locksie.
After wiping away her tears and making her way back into the sanctuary, Locksie lifted her hands to receive the benediction, then grabbed her purse and Bible to quickly head out the door. Thus far she had managed to remain somewhat invisible, now if she could just make it to her car without incident, all would be well. But that would have been too much like right.
“Sister Locksie!”
Locksie heard her name being called.
“Sister Locksie,” the voice called again.
Locksie turned to see Reverend Franklin waving her down. I couldn’t even talk to God. What makes him think I want to talk to him? Locksie thought as she dropped her shoulders and shuffled over to him. She made her way through several of the same ol’ folks who always made their way down to Reverend after service, as if the benediction alone wasn’t enough to seal in his word, but they needed to touch him—shake his hand or something—to confirm it.
“You gave a great word today, Reverend Franklin,” Locksie complimented once she was finally able to get to him.
“I’m blessed to be used by God,” he told her as he grabbed her softly by the shoulder and began toward his office. This was his sign to the others still waiting around to talk to him that he was no longer available. “Can I talk to you in my office for a moment?”
“Sure,” Locksie agreed as they entered his office, where he went to close the door behind them. Before he could get it closed, his wife stopped it with her hand and poked her head in.
“Honey, may I?” First Lady smiled at her husband.
First Lady Deborah was a very fair and petite woman; totally opposite of her husky, dark-complected husband who stood at least six feet tall. She had a class about herself that exuded elegance. She always wore a nice suit, nothing too flashy in color, but instead something with more of an earth tone. Her naturally wavy locks hung just below her ears in a bob cut. Only when she pushed her hair behind her ears could one see the dainty little gold hoops with diamond chips she wore. Her nails were natural, none of that fake acrylic stuff, with only a clear shade of polish. The only ring she wore was a solid gold wedding band. Her theory was that if she was going to be ministering to someone, she didn’t want anything she was wearing to distract them from receiving the message; not clothes, not jewelry, not wigs and hair weave or big fancy hats—not anything. Granted, every now and then she did have to show off her latest shoe purchase from Nordstrom.
Pastor returned his wife’s smile and nodded as if there was some unspoken secret between them.
Locksie looked from the reverend to his wife. “What’s going on here?” Locksie asked as Reverend Franklin sat down in his desk chair and pointed for Locksie to sit on the brown-and-tan fabric couch across from his desk. First Lady Deborah remained standing. Locksie knew something was up just by that secret little grin of theirs.
Here it comes. I knew I wasn’t going to make it up out of here without somebody saying something about Dawson.
“Locksie, you’re naked,” First Lady Deborah said ever so bluntly.
Locksie’s eyes bulged as she crossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest. She looked down at herself. Yeah, the little tan top that she wore was sheer, but she had deliberately worn a black camisole under it just to be certain that it couldn’t be seen through. Perhaps the lighting in her bedroom had deceived her.
The reverend chuckled at Locksie’s physical insecurities. “What my wife means, Sister Locksie, is that you were transparent today. We could see right through you.”
“Huh?” Locksie was confused.
“From the moment you walked through the church doors, you came in wearing nothing but the spirit of embarrassment, shame and guilt,” Reverend said. “Heck, the Holy Spirit even made me change my sermon
because of you. I had four pages of notes for another topic.” He chuckled.
Locksie slumped down on the couch. All her dipping and dodging had been in vain.
“You probably barely got today’s message because you were so worried about what other folks were thinking,” First Lady Deborah said.
Locksie decided to give dodging the ball one last shot as she allowed a look to cover her face as if to say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Dawson, the young man you brought last Sunday who joined the church,” Reverend Franklin refreshed her memory after seeing the bewildered look her face.
“Honey, trust me when I say that it is neither your burden nor battle,” First Lady Deborah said as she sat down next to Locksie on the couch. “Take it from me, I know firsthand what you’re going through.”
“You do?” Locksie asked, her misery desperately seeking company.
“It happens at every church,” Reverend told her. “The man of God delivers a powerful word. Folks get caught up and moved in the moment, or even by a song or praise dance. They join church or profess giving their life to Christ, then they walk out of the church building and back into the world, sometimes never to return to that church again.”
“It’s what Reverend and I like to refer to as a crime of passion.” First Lady Deborah winked at her husband.
Locksie knew that playing dumb was useless. Her reverend and first lady could see through her charades. “I couldn’t believe when he told me he wasn’t coming to church this morning,” Locksie decided to confess. According to First Lady Deborah, she was already naked; might as well take off her earrings and shoes too. “I mean, you saw him last Sunday. He had that same look on his face the first Sunday I came here—it felt like home.” Locksie began to weep. “All that praying I did. I just felt so rejoiced. I kept telling the devil, ‘I told you so. I told you God would answer my prayers.’ Now it’s all like some big joke.”
Reverend Franklin spoke. “You can lead a horse to the river, but you can’t make him drink the water,” he told her. “Dawson is going to have to thirst for God. It’s going to have to be a thirst so strong that he can’t help but drink.”
“Reverend is right,” First Lady Deborah said, grabbing a tissue from the reverend’s desk and then wiping Locksie’s tears away. “Like I said, I know firsthand what you’re going through.” First Lady Deborah got comfortable before she began her story. “I was born on the church pew. So, when you hear folks say, ‘I ain’t been saved all my life,’ . . . well, I have. Daddy was a pastor, Mama was a minister. Me and my brothers and sisters only had three friends growing up; the Father, His Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
They all chuckled.
“So, when this fine little New York boy came strolling through the city on business, if you know what I mean, and caught the eye of a preacher’s daughter, you know my folks, family and friends were fit to be tied. But I wasn’t trying to hear it. And me, knowing the power of God, was just convinced that after a month of Sundays in my daddy’s church, my little New York beau would be speaking in tongues in no time, getting my folks’, family and friends’ approval and change his lifestyle altogether.”
“Did you get him to go to church with you?” Locksie was on the edge of her seat.
“Well, I did manage to finally convince him to come to my daddy’s church. And let me tell you that Sunday was fire. My daddy’s message from God had my New York stallion, on his knees, crawling to the altar, repenting in tears. Girl, I mean snot running out his nose and everything. I was like Shug Avery on The Color Purple. Running up to pastor talkin’ ’bout, ‘See, Daddy. Even sinners have souls?” Once again they all laughed. “My folks saw something good in that New York boy of mine that day at the altar—an anointing on him is what they said—a calling on his life. And I was proud.” Suddenly, a sad look came across First Lady Deborah’s face.
“Then what happened? He didn’t even bother to come back to church that following Sunday, did he?” Locksie sucked her teeth. “Figures.”
“No, he sure didn’t. And I was so embarrassed. So humiliated. Here I had walked around bragging and boasting, shouting ‘hallelujah’ and ‘praise the Lord’ and yet had to walk through those church doors the very next Sunday without him. ‘Where’s your so-called saved, little dope-slinging boyfriend now? Girl, he probably only put on that show last Sunday at the altar thinking he could get in your panties.’ ”
Locksie put her head down in shame. She, in fact, had given in to Dawson this past week. She hadn’t had intercourse with him, but she had engaged in oral pleasures with him. He had convinced her that giving him some oral action wasn’t actually sex. But now that she thought about it, she felt so stupid. She was a grown woman and fell for that little teenage crap. The devil had used Dawson to get her to go back on her word to God.
First Lady Deborah rested her hand on top of Locksie’s. “It’s okay,” she told Locksie, almost as if she had read her thoughts.
“So, what happened to the New York boy? What was his excuse for not coming back to church?” Locksie asked.
“Seven to ten years,” First Lady Deborah replied.
“What?”
“His excuse was a seven-to-ten-year prison sentence. That Sunday night after church, when he tried to tell his people that he was getting out the game, they didn’t take too kindly to that. There were some deals that needed to be finalized. He was going to mess up a lot of people’s money. But he refused to put off God for the game. The people he was dealing with told him that they’d rather see him dead. So, they tried to kill him. They shot and missed. He shot back and killed somebody. He got sentenced to seven to ten years.”
“Oh, gosh,” Locksie said.
“Do you know what ever happened to him?”
First Lady Deborah chuckled. “Do I know?” She leaned in close to Locksie. “Girlfriend, I married him.”
Locksie looked over at Reverend Franklin, who was grinning from ear to ear. He stood up from his chair and walked over to Locksie and his wife. “So you see, Sister Locksie, you do what is right for you, and what is right for you is what God tells you to do. The good Lord ain’t gonna steer you wrong. Pray and wait on God. Then you do what He instructs you to do in this situation. Just be obedient and trust in God to do His will in your life. Okay?”
“Yes, Reverend Franklin.” Locksie smiled and exhaled. Reverend and First Lady’s words were so comforting.
First Lady Deborah stood and pulled Locksie up with her. “Now, the next time you come into the house of the Lord, you come with your head held high, knowing that right now, you are only accountable for yourself. What another person does has nothing to do with you; that is unless you allow that other person to pull you away from the Lord.”
“And that thing that separates you from the Lord is called sin,” Reverend added. “What is in the middle of the word sin; spelled S-I-N?”
Locksie thought for a minute. “I.”
“And that’s the worst part about sin; that ‘I’ am usually in the middle of it.” Reverend chuckled. “Don’t be that ‘I’ in the middle of sin, sister.”
Locksie’s eyes watered. She could feel the Holy Spirit dictating to the reverend and first lady everything she needed to hear. “I won’t, Pastor. I won’t be in the middle of sin.”
“Understand, Sister Locksie, that in this walk there is a cost,” Reverend told her. “You might not always like what God says once you hear from Him. He might ask you to give up some things, and there should be nothing in this world you’re not willing to give up for God, including your life.” Locksie nodded. “So, you stay in the Word. Stay in prayer and allow God to direct your path. Allow Him to show you what goes and what stays. Who goes and who stays. And once He reveals this to you, be obedient and oblige Him. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Reverend,” Locksie answered. “I understand.”
She gave both Reverend and First Lady Deborah a hug and then made her way to her car. On the way, she thanke
d God for such a wonderful and powerful reverend and first lady. She thanked God for them taking her in like she had been a member of that church since it had been built, and for sharing their testimony with her. While she had God’s attention, she prayed that He would do just what Reverend Franklin told her He would do; show her what and who goes and what and who stays. On the drive home, she couldn’t help but wonder if Dawson would be who stays.
Chapter 37
“Thank you for coming in on your off day,” Hannah A said to Locksie as she finished up her hair by spritzing her corn rolls.
“Oh, it’s no problem. I had to come in today anyway to do a little inventory. I hadn’t planned on doing any hair today, though. But this is cool. I know you are in Elkan’s cousin’s wedding and all.”
“Yeah, and his cousin’s stylist was supposed to do everybody’s hair, but as I sat in that shop waiting on my turn and seeing all the jacked-up heads she had done before me, there was no way I could let her put her fingers in my hair.”
Both women laughed.
“Was it that bad?” Locksie asked as she began to spray the Redkin Fresh Curls curl boost on the back of Hannah’s hair, which she had left down to show off her naturally curly hair as the neatly parted corn rolls decorated the front.
“It was that bad.” Hannah snapped her finger as if she had just remembered something. “Let me grab my purse. The rhinestones we are supposed to wear in our hair are in it.” Hannah picked up her purse from off the floor and pulled out a small package and handed it to Locksie. “They have the Velcro thingies on them, so you shouldn’t need any glue or anything.”
“Thanks, girl.”
“By the way, how are things going with your aunt’s house and everything?” Hannah got cozy back in the chair.
“Oh, everything is going good. She had an insurance policy that paid off her house in case of her death, plus had another twenty thousand on top of that. We’re using that twenty to repair the kitchen and the other areas in the house that have smoke damage.” Locksie tore the package open with her teeth after unsuccessfully trying to open it with her slippery fingers; greasy from all the sprays she had been using in Hannah’s hair.
