“In the Midst of It All”

After thirty minutes of exuberant praise and worship, the choir gave a wound down, spiritual rendition of Yolanda Adams’s “Never Give Up,” and then the message for the Sunday morning service began.

The church was in Magnolia’s neighborhood, so she was usually the one to attend more than either of her friends. Though as often as she went, she couldn’t quite get herself walking right.

It was a Sunday.

A day of mid-sun.

Hope was in the air, as the weeks of clouds seemed to be lifting.

This day was brighter and warmer.

Much brighter than it had been in Rebe’s bedroom in the early morning hours of Friday, April 10.

The day the rapper, turned rapist, was stabbed in the home of an ex-NFL player’s ex-wife, by her daughter. Or at least that’s what the headlines read.

And everyone seemed to know about it.

Seated in the very first row in their Sunday-going-to-church outfits, Trinity, who was named after the Trinity Cathedral back when Rebe would attend with Trent when they first met, sat next to her mother in an organza bubble skirt suit. Rebe, who wore a draped dress with a wide patent belt, was hand in hand with her daughter. On the other side of Rebe was Darla and Magnolia, both wearing all black. Darla’s was a neutral twill pantsuit with a big straw hat and Magnolia’s was a tailored trench dress. Next to Magnolia was clean-cut Miller in a dark suit and tie.

It was Pastor Kevin Broward’s congregation, listening intently in the newly remodeled mega-sanctuary with marble columns and overhead projectors. It was filled to capacity as usual, and he had the place fired up as usual.

Right on time, the subject was the Retest. All ears were on the pastor, who had a way of breaking it down, whether reading from the Bible or preaching off the cuff, but he always managed to give life-survival battery charges.

He stood at the pulpit with his fellow pastors and wife backing him up, sitting in high back chairs just in front of the seventy member choir, who were all dressed in purple. The pastor was his usual sharp, in a tan suit with an orange tie and pocket scarf. He was tall and fortyish, energetic and animated.

“Crisis can mean change for the better. But you’ll never change in your life what you’re willing to tolerate. Don’t curse the darkness. Light a candle.”

The churchgoers raised their hands with a matching “Amen,” as did Darla.

“You must reach beyond something you’ve already mastered. All change begins with a decision. When will you make the decision?”

“Now,” a woman yelled, directly behind Rebe. Others said it as well.

“As suffering abounds, so does consolation. God is trying to teach us something. He’s trying to train us.”

A few shouts of hallelujah floated through the air.

He stepped from behind the podium, ready to dig deep. “The devil will distract you and break your focus. But you have to get back up. Falling is meant to happen. But failure is the result of quitting in life. Don’t give up. Never give up, as the choir just sang. If something deep inside keeps inspiring you to try, don’t stop. You’ve gotta keep the faith, to the light. The light. The light.” He sounded like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

“You don’t get anointed unless you’re bleeding. But some of you are hardheaded. See, you need a retest. You keep doing the same thing again and again, expecting a different result.” He joked, “You know what the definition of crazy is, right? Keep doing the same old thing, warmed over.” He stepped to the other side. “Well, see, God doesn’t flunk you. God is patient. He’ll just send you through it again until you get it right. It’s called a retest. Same test, different set of circumstances, now what are you going to do? Same thing? Crazy.” He shook his head.

Some of the members laughed, as did Magnolia and Miller.

He pointed among the churchgoers. “Ask some of these older folks out here. They’ll tell ya. The young are strong but the old know the way. How do you think they know the way? They’ve been tested. And it’s you young, hardheaded, strong ones who keep messing up. Let me stop. Some of you old folks are serial repeat offenders, too. But hey. Pressure is a good thing. You’ll get the lessons sooner or later. You’ve gotta boil to make things happen. It’s gotta get to just the right temperature to boil. That’s the valley. The peak is just around the bend. We are made bitter before we’re made better. Some of you have your guard down, and that’s when things happen to knock you down. You ever notice that just when things are good, something happens, right?”

Folks nodded and said, “Uh-huh.”

“Well, that’s when the devil starts messing, and when the devil starts messing, what?”

“God starts blessing,” his members said out loud.

“Yes. God starts blessing. You’ve had some messing going on, huh? Accept the bitter with the sweet and find the purpose of the test. Make it your testimony.

“And know that you are not what’s happened to you. Don’t define yourself by your experience. Stop hating on yourself like that.”

Rebe’s face was flushed and she exhaled hard.

“But you must deal with the root of it all, and then move on. God is strengthening you for the journey. He has positioned you for a retest for a purpose. All things work together for your good. God is the lifter of your head. But you must get yourself over to the cross, one way or another. Maybe not today. But soon. Calm yourself.”

“Yes, sir. Yes,” Darla said aloud.

“You have to fail before you succeed. Champions are not those who never fail. Champions are those who never quit. There’s nothing more powerful than a made-up mind. Question is, when will you make up yours?”

“Now,” some of the members yelled out. “Right now.”

“It’s time to heal the hurting. Take away your shame. Don’t let shame dictate your destiny.”

And with that sentence, he looked directly at Rebe, who started to cry. Trinity held her hand tighter, and Darla patted her on her knee, squeezing as a sign of comfort to her friend.

Magnolia looked over at Rebe and her heart sped up. She started to cry, too.

“Believe that it’s time for a new season. Watch what happens.”