Epic Testament

by Serenity Cross

“Was blind, but now I see,” The choir finished.

  I love that song. Although, I can’t really relate to it because I don’t think I have ever really been blind. I’ve always been able to “see” exactly what I have been expected to see. That may be a little confusing. I guess what I’m trying to say is being a preacher’s kid has definitely kept me out the dark in a lot of ways.

  I have to attend Sunday morning service, Sunday evening service, Small group Monday, Mid-week service, Prayer warrior Thursdays, Friday guest speaker service. I think the only day with no service is Tuesday, at least not outside the house. Tuesday is family Bible study night. Not to mention, most of the time, I am surrounded by old people who constantly remind me of my virtue and Satan’s deceptions. So to say I have been dipped and dripped in the word since birth is an understatement. And yet, I still don’t know all there is to know about the Bible. I know the keynote stories and verses, but I’m not on the level one would think I should be.

  Since the life I live isn’t the one I chose for myself, it’s not my main interest. I spend most of my time outside the church curious about my place in the religion free world, my purpose.

  And the time in church, I spend thinking thoughts much like the thought I am thinking right now, “How much longer until church is over?” I know you can’t rush the spirit, but my stomach is about to sing its own tune in a minute.

  “The doors of the church are open. Don’t let another second pass without knowing, beyond a shadow of doubt; if the Lord came back today, you will be going to live for all eternity with the Lord.” One of the ministers on staff turned to both sides of the church with his arms outstretched. “God is waiting for YOU.” I thought in unison with him as he spoke the words.

  It’s amazing how you memorize parts of the prayers and speeches the more time you spend in church. Seriously, I can finish the phrases for several pastors not just the ones on staff at my father’s church either. That’s just how drenched I am in churches.

  “Amen. GO SAINTS! And may God be with you as you carry your cross through your journey this week”

  I jumped up out of my seat and headed towards the door. Praise God! I don’t know how much longer I could last. Church was especially long today due to all the testimony and extra songs. I headed to my parents’ car to eat the snack I brought to tide me over until they are ready to leave. After 17 years, I know we won’t be leaving any time soon.

  Everybody will have to speak to my parents about EVERYTHING in life. And even if they didn’t, there’s always that faithful crowd that tends to linger after church and we have to lock the building. It used to bother me because I was so hungry and tired. Now, most days, I go to the car, eat my snack, play on my phone, and wait for my parents to leave. However, some days I get stopped by someone when I’m on my way to solitude… and it seems like today is one of those days.

  “MISSY!”

  Aw man. I know that voice. Ignore it and keep walking faster. Maybe if you look like you are in a hurry, it will go away.

  “Missy?” After feeling a light grab at my arm, I knew I was caught. She continued. “I was hoping to catch you today. How are you?”

  I forced a smile. “Mrs. Jackson, I’m fine. How are you?” I decided to go with a standard reply not suggestive of any further conversation.

  “I’m as good as the Lord’s blessings. And how is school? Are you still in the running for valedictorian?” She said while swaying as if the music was still playing.

  Here we go again. She must be working herself up for another one of her “conversations”.

  “Yes ma’am. I still have straight A’s.” I tried to sound as enthusiastic as I could with an old conversation. She asks me this every week. I mean really?

  “Darla, come here!” She turned to yell at her daughter. And here comes part two. “Darla, Missy is still in the running for valedictorian. Perhaps, you should get with her about some of those classes that are causing you such trouble. She is such a good role model. And she is always dressed so cute and modest. Just like a young lady should. Missy is just the kind of friend you should entertain, not those “loosens” you are so fond of”

  And that is exactly why I don’t have very many friends. Nobody wants a friend that is always at their parents’ disposal to use as an example of “perfection”. Besides, I stopped wanting to be cute when I was ten. Here I am a year from adulthood and still being called cute.

  Of course now, Darla is giving me the “you make me sick goody two shoes” stare. One that is well deserved and received often by just about everyone, except old people. It’s all in the day and the life of a PK. But, even though it’s a lot of pressure and I don’t always enjoy it, I can’t bring myself to openly rebel against my father’s ministry.

  He has worked so hard to be a Christlike example to his congregation. Despite the fact he is the one called to win souls for Christ, people look at his family with a magnifying glass. They think if he can’t lead (which to them means control) his family, then he is incapable of leading a church. I never understood that logic.

  Every Sunday the pastor asks us to choose Christ. Yet, pastor’s kids have no choice. Perfection and salvation is perceived to be a birthright. And should I choose a different life, my father is to blame. If you really think about it, it is beyond reason. This is exactly why, when I leave for college, I plan to get as far away from here as possible. I never had the chance to think about the person I am outside other’s perception of the person I should be.

  “Missy?” Mrs. Jackson questioned my attention.

  “Ma’am?” I didn’t realize how far my thoughts had run

  from the current conversation.

  “Your shoes? Where did you get them? I’d love to buy a pair for Darla.”

  Seriously? You want to buy Darla a pair of my shoes. My “grandma stomp a cockroach” shoes. The half inch heel is so wide and long the shoe looks like it was meant to be a wedge, but fell short on material.

  And the leather wraps around my foot like that bandage looking stuff wraps around a mummy. Surely you can find them in an elderly person’s closet or, if you’re lucky, at Goodwill.

  “I’m not really sure my mom bought these. I’ll have to remember to ask her for you. I like Darla’s shoes. They are really nice.”

  She was wearing black heels looking to be the complete opposite of what was covering my feet. It was a strappy sandal with chrome lining the curves of her foot. The soles were a very distinct red. The pencil thin heel looked to be at least four inches.

  “Oh.” She sounded surprised that I had noticed and looked embarrassed by the shoe choice of her daughter.

  “She buys her own shoes now that she has that little job. I’d prefer she’d sway her taste to something a little more classic myself. Well, it was nice talking to you Missy. I so enjoy hearing about your successes. It brings light to my day… hope. You are such a good example; a fine girl.” She finished looking at Darla. Then she nodded my way as if to welcome my response.

  To fight it would be a lost cause, I chose to just return a smile and hug.

  “Thank you Mrs. Jackson. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  My goodness, that seemed to last forever. Now back to the mission at hand-- food.

  “MISSY! Missy, come here Baby. I want to introduce you to our visitors.” My mom yelled while reaching her hand towards me and beckoning me to her. “This is my oldest. She is seventeen and is a senior this year. She is currently in the running for valedictorian.”

  And here we go again. If there was ever a chance I’d make a friend today, it was just shot. I slowly made my way to my mom. “Yes ma’am” I said marking my arrival.

  “This is Jackie Colemisser. She and her family decided to visit us today. Isn’t that a blessing?”

  It wasn’t a question, but a suggestion for agreement. Everything is a blessing.

  “Ye
s ma’am. We are so happy you decided to join us today.”

  My mom nodded to the expected response. “This is her daughter Amber. She is only a few years younger than you. I was thinking you could show her the youth room and tell her about our youth programs.”

  This “suggestion” from mommy dearest just confirmed my quest for food as a failed mission.

  “Sure. Hi, Amber. Let’s take a look around.” I said as I lead Amber to the youth room.

  Most people would consider Amber to be nice looking. She is the classic blond hair, blue eyes, petite. She seemed interested in the church, but not overly excited.

  “So Amber, where are you from?”

  She responded with anticipation. “My parents and I just moved here from Georgia. My dad had to transfer for work.” She paused. “So what is there to do around here?”

  This is a question to which I don’t know the answer. All I do is church, every day.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t get out much. I spend most of my time here either in service or practicing for service. There’s always something to do.”

  “Oh yeah, preacher’s kid, I forgot.” She shrugged. I guess she was expecting a more captivating response. I wish I had one to give. I wish I could speak of bright lights, fast cars, and hot boys. Although I can speak of one hot boy, but he already has enough attention and groupies. Besides, it wouldn’t be right to set her up to be burned. She must have noticed my mind drifted because she changed the subject.

  “You must be smart…being valedictorian and all.”

  “Perhaps I am smart, or maybe just determined; More or less a perfectionist. I suppose I am smart enough to know what to study and how to take a test.”

  I don’t believe being smart is the only aspect in passing or acing a test. I think anybody determined enough to do whatever it takes can be successful.

  I geared us back to purpose as we walked into the youth room. “We do drama, music, and volunteer work. Oh, and we go to conferences and camps. As I said before, there is always something to do.” I hoped that didn’t sound as sarcastic as the echo in my mind.

  Thirty minutes has passed since service ended and it seems like we were still no closer to leaving than we started.

  “Missy! Amber! It’s time to go” My mom called, but continued talking to Amber’s mom. “Sunday is such a busy day for us. Today my husband has two more services. We need to get home and eat before we get back at it again. It was so very nice to meet you guys. I hope to see you next Sunday.”

  I figured it a good time to do my farewell with Amber as well.

  Finally, we can go home even if only for a couple of hours.

  As soon as we made it, I went to my room to change clothes. Before I changed, I decided to take one final look at my esteemed Sunday outfit. A long blue floral dress that was not fitted and certainly not sexy. It was just something to cover my body. And then there were the “grandma” shoes. Cute. I guess that would be the most appropriate word to describe it. Second only to “a hot mess” that is. I traded the modest “mother of the church” outfit for a more comfortable pair of sweats and a too big t-shirt.

  Dinner should be done shortly. In the meantime, I’d listen to my music. It’s amazing how a song can pick you up out your current situation and make you float on cloud nine. No worries, not a care in the world.

  “MISSY!” My dad’s voice interrupted one of my most favorite songs.

  It’s Dinnertime. I went downstairs and sat at the table.

  It is Phillip’s turn to set the table. Even though he is two years younger than me, he stands taller than me by at least a foot. He is the characteristic tall and thin. But he’s not too skinny. Most girls would say his face is definitely easy on the eyes.

  “Bless this food and let it be to the nourishment of our bodies” My dad prayed.

  “Jesus wept.” Phillip said. He always chose that verse because it’s the shortest verse in the Bible.

  “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” I said and then prepared to stuff my mouth with food as soon as my mom rendered her verse.

  Not even two bites into the meal my mom asked a question that never ceased in irritation yet it was to be expected every day after service.

  “So, tell me about what you learned today?”

  I think it is most irritating because in order to answer it you have to stop whatever you were doing. And most of the time, it is when you were starved out and trying to eat.

  “Phillip, why don’t you go first,” Mom suggested.

  Of course, Phillip was delighted at the offer. He gave his most detailed account of the message. It was complete with scripture references and the associated gestures. At least it gave me time to finish half my meal and kill the predominant hunger.

  “Very good, Phillip. Missy?” My mom suggested again.

  The good thing is Phillip’s refresher message just jogged my memory for the recap.

  “Phillip summed the message up very well. Basically, the message urged us to forgive like God forgives.”

  Both my parents nodded so I assume my answer was good enough. I only have one more hour of rest and then two more services. Days like this are the summary of my existence. I can’t help but think there must be more to life than this.