After getting Zayvon settled and his car seat strapped into the car, Naomi-Ruth climbed in and sat next to him, and through a thunderstorm of tears, she petitioned her Heavenly Father.
“Father, I don’t understand, and I don’t know why, but I do know whatever is spiraling around my life right now, you are my perfect peace. I know that you are working it all together for my good. God, I need you right now to help me keep my eyes and focus on you and not the circumstances surrounding my marriage or Zayvon. Please, God, stay by his side. Send angels to encamp around my baby. I am thanking you in advance for your comfort and healing power. I know what the doctors said, but I also know what you said. I speak healing over my child, no matter what my eyes see or what people say. In the midst of it all, I trust you, even though the pain in my life makes you seem so far away. No matter what, God, I know you’re able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that I can ask or think. The glory belongs to you, God. Please, heal Zayvon.”
Finishing her plea to the Lord, Naomi Ruth looked down at her sleeping son and broke down.
Chapter Twenty-six
The Troubles of the Past . . .
After Desirae and Naomi-Ruth walked out of the church during Rosalind’s going home service, the attendees followed suit, different groups at a time. Before leaving, Xavier advised the funeral director that Desirae would come by the parlor to pay her final respects the following day. All this, while Pastor Lewis continued with his sermon.
“When we run from the truth, it will chase us down.”
In the middle of him speaking, the sound system stopped working, and his microphone cut off. Looking around and shaking his mic, Pastor Lewis looked confused because he was so caught up in getting his message out that he hadn’t noticed everyone pretty much walked out. He heard Desirae’s response but ignored it and kept speaking. Since he ministered with his eyes closed and tuned everything out so he could deliver the Word he felt God gave him for the mourners, he missed that most of them had left, even Naomi Ruth. As his eyes jumped around, Pastor Lewis’s nerves got the best of him. When he realized that he, Mother Diane, and only a few of the other church mothers were the only persons left, it caused his proud frame to slump and Mother Diane to intervene.
“Forgive me, Mothers, but I have to deal with this once and for all,” G-ma Dye apologized.
“Dye, it’s been long overdue. Do what God has been telling you to do. And, Pastor, remember these words this very day: The crash is here because of your pride. Your ego made the fall that you’re going through, and that same ego will make what you’re about to go through even harder. But God will get the glory. Let all of that stuff go, son. It has had you bound long enough. God has great works for you, but you’re in your own way. Let it go, son,” Mother Celine declared, making her way to the door.
The remaining two church mothers followed Mother Celine’s lead, leaving Mother Dye alone with Pastor. As the mortician and company prepared Rosalind’s remains to be transferred back over to the funeral parlor, Pastor Lewis and G-ma Dye confronted each other for the first time. They both knew it was time to expose the suppressed truths that had led to the pain that had weighed them down through the years.
“Dexter, your actions have aroused the anger of God, and you’ve brought everything that is happening on yourself. Although I am partly responsible for your secret suffering, I had to cut the sound system off. How dare you get up there and say those things?”
“Mother Diane, I gave God’s people what He gave me, and what do you mean you caused me pain?”
“Right now, this is your grandmother talking to you. All of these titles, agendas, doctrines, and everything else are what have you in a spiritual state of delusion. This is a sign that Jesus will be coming back soon, and, Dexter, you and I both have to get things right so that we aren’t left behind.”
“I rebuke that statement. I have never taken delight in betraying God or rejecting Him. How dare you say that I am in a state of delusion.”
“You know the truth, Dexter, but your arrogant disdain has your mind warped. There are some things that I haven’t been straightforward with you about, and I believe it has led to further injury,” she choked out.
“I am not injured, G-ma. Would you please stop saying that. You didn’t cause anything. Sin is the reason for anything that happens out of the will of God.”
“You might have a point because I wasn’t honest with you about why my girls no longer speak to you or me. How can you preside over a church when our household is so messed up?”
When Ramona, Taniece, Chanté, and Alethea learned Dexter had impregnated a young woman from the church, they were in shock. They’d presumed he didn’t have any interest in girls. When they were around him, they teased him, saying, “Little Miss CinderFella done lifted his dress and turned into a man.” Ramona particularly tormented him the most. It wasn’t until she heard about the demise of Dexter and Tamariane’s baby that she felt the need to unleash all of her pent-up resentment. Sunday dinner hadn’t been the same since.
“I’m sorry to hear about your little one, Dex,” Ramona sneered.
“If you’re sorry, why are you smirking? But thank you . . . I guess.”
“Because I’m not surprised this happened. Every time you’re attached to a pregnant woman, a tragedy happens. Ultimately, someone dies.”
“Stop it, Ramona. Shut your mouth. How dare you come in here talking this foolishness,” G-ma Dye reprimanded.
“Why, Momma Dee? All of the church and preaching y’all do, God told none of you to tell the truth? You and Pop Reg act like she never existed. Everyone bows down to Dexter when he is the reason my sister is dead.”
Ramona never saw it coming. The sharp sting of Momma Dee’s palm to her face stopped her rant mid-sentence.
Grabbing her face, Ramona screamed, “That’s what your God taught you to do? Hit your children for telling the truth? I thought you said the truth would set us free. How can you be free when that little boy you always protecting is the reason my sister is dead?”
“Get out of my house. I will not tolerate disrespect. Until you learn how to show love and respect to every member of this family, you’re not welcomed here.”
“Dye, that’s harsh,” Pop Reg interjected.
“Reg, if there was ever a time you needed to be by my side and support my decision, this is that time,” Momma Dee sniffled.
Ramona, Taniece, Chanté , and Alethea glanced at one another through tearstained eyes, and without having to say a word, they got up from the table at the same time. They gathered their kids up to leave.
“You don’t have to worry about us. God will take care of us better than you or your nasty husband ever have,” Ramona said, slamming the door.
“What is she talking about, G-ma,” Dexter whined.
“Nothing, baby. Your sister is still hurting because of your mother’s passing. All of us are. It’s just taking the girls longer to heal,” G-ma Dye said, breaking down.
It had been years since Dexter or G-ma Dye spoke to or had seen the girls. Dye has had a hole in her soul because of the fallout. It had weighed heavily on her heart, along with not admitting the truth and rectifying things for her family. Telling the truth, in her mind, would have caused more harm. Therefore, she shunned away from Anastasia’s pregnancy and death. However, because of Dexter’s behavior, Dye couldn’t carry the loaded truth any longer.
“Dexter, remember when Ramona said it was your fault your mother, my baby girl, went home to be with the Lord after giving birth to you?”
“Her words are engraved in my heart. I grieve daily because I never got to know her, and she’s gone so that I can live. Sometimes, I have a hard time processing that because I was created in sin. But the wages of sin are death, so on the other hand, I understand.”
“I need you to stop thinking like that and talk to someone. The love of God and His grace are immense. He wants to take away our heartache and the consequences of our sins. That’s why Jesus died
on the cross. He paid the price, so we don’t have to. But you have to understand that even though God allowed Jesus to perish for our sins, death and suffering still exist. Sometimes, we get caught up in things out of our control, and as a result, we are crippled in many ways because of someone else’s actions. Your mother was a sweet little girl. Just like you, at a young age, Anastasia found God. It wasn’t her fault, Dex. She was in the restroom at the church and taken advantage of. Her 11-year-old body was mistreated and raped. She didn’t ask for it to happen, and neither did God punish her for any of it, son. Some people are sick and need help, and if they don’t get it, things that are lying dormant inside of them metastasize like cancer and kills them. Their judgment is off, and they hurt everyone in their path.”
“What are you saying, G-ma?” Dexter cried.
“I-I am so sorry. I didn’t know how to explain or even talk about this, because I feel as if it’s all my fault.”
“What, G-ma? What? Please, tell me.”
“You’re Pop Reg was sick. He messed up, but Bishop prayed, fasted, and counseled him, and Reg got himself together.”
“Got himself together?”
“I love you, Dex. I never wanted to hurt you, but because of my guilt, I sheltered and tried to protect you. Doing so, I pushed the girls away. They had every reason to feel how they did toward Reg, but I made them love him and didn’t talk to them. I just yelled at them and told them God would take care of it all, and we all fell short of the glory of God.”
“Are you saying that Pop Reg hurt my mother, G-ma?”
Dexter squinted, staring out into the distance as if he were in a trance. Learning that he was a product of rape made his body spasm with no control over himself. Identical to a tonic-clonic convulsion, Dexter felt himself losing awareness, and as his muscles stiffened, he fell to the floor.
“My life is a lie. I’ve been living a lie. I am the son of a rapist. He verbally abused me every chance he had, G-ma. And he was my father? I’ve constantly wondered how my features resembled Pop Reg so much. My nose, mouth, and mannerisms mimicked his. I assumed it was because people say when you’re around someone for a long period that you begin to look alike. Never would I have thought he was my mother’s rapist. Maybe deep down inside, I knew. Maybe that’s why I pushed my wife and son away. I am damaged goods. You know when we brought Zayvon home, it paralyzed me in fear, afraid that I’d hurt him. How could you let me go on living a lie, G-ma?” he grieved.
Pastor Lewis and G-ma spent the rest of the day and evening inside of the church crying and talking. Dexter was feeling broken and left to bleed. In fact, he knew now that he had been oozing out all over the place for a long time. He’d covered up all of the uncertainties, insecurities, and the pain of not knowing who he really was outside of his clergy collar.
“My hands have been dirty, and I’ve been mishandling God’s people with my unresolved stuff, G-ma.”
“There is a way of escape, Dex. God didn’t bring us this far to leave us.”
“I’ll have to step down as pastor. I need time to heal from the surgery God is about to do in my life. I need some time alone with God. Do you think you could give me that?”
“We need to clear everything up. I don’t want to leave without making sure you’re all right. A lot was said, and I, again, Dex, I am truly sorry. All I ever wanted was to protect you. I took matters into my own hands and away from God and made things worse.”
The words G-ma were saying made no impact. Dexter was lost in the aching misery of the revelation. Staring at his hands, he saw what no one else could see . . . dirt where there was none. In his devastated mind, the filth of a lifetime of sins was on his hands. He didn’t want G-ma Dye or anyone to see him in his filthy state any longer.
“Right now, I can’t even think straight. I need to start cleaning myself up. Please, give me a minute. I’ll go back to the house, and we can finish talking later.”
G-ma Dye made a tearful path to the exit, and Pastor Lewis locked the church up behind her. Unsure of where to go, who to turn to, or what to do, Dexter fell to his knees in the spot he stood, crying out to God in prayer.
“Dear Lord, this is your servant. I come to you with my arms stretched wide. I ask that you give me the strength to forgive. I kneel before you confused, angry, damaged, and feeling abandoned by the ones that were supposed to love me. I am afraid of who I could become learning where I came from. Be near me, dear God, in my hour of trouble. May your healing power rest upon me, cleansing, rebuilding, and giving me the strength to be anew. Please, grant your grace and mercy to help me let go and free myself of the things I’ve allowed to fester. Forgive me for getting ahead of your plans and for my pride. Help me to come to you for direction, provision, and protection as I deal with the things I’ve created. I need you, God. I can’t do this without you.”
Pastor Lewis spent the balance of the evening and the remainder of the week inside of the sanctuary. He lay prostrate before the Lord and wept in prayer from sunup until the sunlight faded from the sky. Unsure of where to turn or what to do because he knew he had to face the consequences of his actions, he penned letters to Desirae and the church council. He also wrote a separate note for his spouse. Dexter apologized to the heads of the church and apprised them of his choice to step down as pastor until he could see clearly and be the leader God called him to be. This was one of the toughest decisions for him to have to make, as it left him indeed further confused about what he should do or where to go.
“God, I am stepping down. I feel the tugging at my heart to do so, but what next? I don’t know what else to do. There’s no way I can recover right now, sitting in the face of it all. I am too fragile. I come to you as humble as I know how. Please show me what you want—”
From nowhere, the echo of his cell phone tore through the temple, causing him to jump in nervousness, cutting his prayer short. Without a second thought, Dexter grabbed the phone and answered it.
“H-hello, Pastor speaking.”
“Good afternoon, Pastor Lewis. This is Pastor Xavier Washington, Sister Desirae’s friend. I hope you don’t mind me calling. Mother Diane gave me your number.”
“No problem. How can I help you?”
“Is it possible for us to meet and talk? I’m by the church. I can meet you there.”
“It’d be best if we spoke now, over the phone, if that’s all right with you.”
Pastor Lewis hadn’t showered or shaved in days, and he wasn’t up to seeing anyone, either. The best he could provide was a brief phone conversation, considering he thought he turned his ringer off.
“Speaking face-to-face would be easier, Pastor. I have been praying for you since the first day that we met. Every leader and person of good needs covering. You know, someone to talk to and be open and honest with, without the titles. Just you and me. Xavier and Dexter.”
“Now isn’t a good time.”
“Pastor, I know you haven’t left the church since the funeral service. I am standing outside. Please let me in. I had no intention of coming this way, but somehow, it was God’s doing. Of course, I ran into Mother Diane. I stopped for gas, and she pulled up on the side of me said God told her to give me your number when she saw me. So, I am here, and I am not leaving, Pastor.”
Everything inside of Dexter refused to open the door, but his body turned against him. Before he could even think about it, Pastor Lewis was unlocking the church doors to allow Xavier to enter.
“My brother, I feel in my heart God sent you here. I don’t know what to do. This here shell of a man standing before you is messed up. You should probably leave before I rub off on you,” Pastor Lewis confessed.
“Well, from the sound of things, I hear a man that is on the threshold of clearing up his mess.”
“You would say that it’s relatively biblical, but I need what you said on the phone. Dexter and Xavier. There can be no Pastor Lewis until Dexter is put back together.”
“One thing about me is I don’t say what
people want to hear all of the time. The man that greeted and confessed to me is not the same person who was standing in that pulpit almost a week ago. You owned your stuff, and you were honest with me. As leaders and men of God, we need not hide our flaws. We have to stand in the face of our shortcomings, as you just did. When we are broken, we are humbled, and God can only use us in our humility. No one knows the pressure to be the idea of perfection more than us leaders, but we got it all wrong. We serve a perfect God, and because of our imperfections, Jesus died on the cross.
“Look, Dexter, there are some things you need to deal with. You cannot overcome them by masking them with religious work. To be an effective man and then a leader, we have to clear those things we hold on to and continue to trip over. You don’t have to tell me anything, and I don’t want you to because I can feel the pain that has had you captive for far too long. Some of that pain is old and some new, but it’s deep, and if you don’t get it under control, it will drive you crazy—or kill you. The Word is right all by itself, but God gave us tools to help us more with those other things. As leaders, we carry so much of our baggage and think by helping others that we are helping ourselves. After a while, if we continue to ignore those things gnawing at us, we infect the lives of the people we connect with and the ones connected to us.
“Pastor, I am not sure how you feel about this, but I think you need time to work on that inner man and talk to a faith-based counselor. Someone you don’t know who can help you unload the baggage you’ve been carrying, along with the new baggage you’ve acquired.”
“I was just asking God what’s next, and you called,” he broke down.
Unspoken Words Page 17
