Joy Comes in the Morning

Ashea S. Goldson

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Table of Contents

 

 

This book is dedicated to Mommy, whose youth and marital status neither afforded you luxury, nor prestige, yet you persevered with motherhood. Thank you, Mommy, for life and love.

To my Heavenly Father, who has made this kingdom writing possible, I give all honor and glory.

 

To my husband, Donovan, thank you for twenty-three years of growing with you, and learning what real love is. The best is yet to come.

 

To my children, Anais, Safiya, Jamal (my son-in-law), and Syriah (my granddaughter), I love you all with an endless love. Keep on making me proud.

 

To Mommy (Evangelist Janet Sloan); what can I say? A mother's love is special. Where would I be without it? Thank you for being in my corner when it seemed like no one else was, and thank you for allowing me to be me.

 

To Grandma Ruthell, thanks for always believing in me, and for reading my books, even when it seemed like your strength would not allow you to.

 

To my business partner and friend, Tamicka Mccloud and your family, Darryl, Lashydra Cameron, and my godchildren, Emmanuel, Hannah, and Faith—you are forever members of my family. Thank you for the daily laughter you all bring into my life.

 

To my editor, Joylynn Jossel, you have been a Godsend in every sense of the word. Thank you for helping me in my publication journey.

 

To my Urban Christian family, thank you for allowing my words to be heard, and for being supportive of those words.

 

To my literary agent, Sha Shana Crichton of Crichton and Associates, thanks for doing what you do; keeping my literary business in order.

 

To the Faith Based Fiction Writers Group, thanks for helping me by critiquing, uplifting, teaching, promoting, informing, and praying. What a literary sisterhood-truly a force to be reckoned with.

 

To my World Changers Church family, and for Pastor Creflo and Taffi Dollar, for continuing to teach the Word of God with simplicity and understanding. To the WCCI marriage maintenance ministry for accepting us in with open arms, and allowing us the opportunity to serve.

 

To The Anointed Minds students, who light up each day with smiles. And to one of my very special students, Michael Brown, whose potential is clearly recognizable and whose destiny is just beginning. I expect great things.

 

To all the Christian fiction authors who have stayed true to the genre; bloggers, book clubs, social media organizers, and radio hosts who have either paved the way for me or promoted me, thank you for being examples of literary and professional excellence to which I can aspire.

 

To all family, friends, or writer-sisters who have not yet been mentioned, whether you be from World Changers Church, from Brooklyn Technical High School, from Fordham University, from the family in North Carolina, from New York; whether our paths have crossed in Atlanta, whether you be blood relatives, relatives by law, or whether you're a fellow author, I love and appreciate you all.

 

To my readers and fans, thank you for supporting me in this kingdom writing venture. What a journey it has been so far.

(Ten years ago)

 

I arrived at the clinic a shivering mess. I never imagined I'd feel so alone. Ahmad was supposed to meet me there at ten o'clock, to hold my hand, even though he had never held my hands before, to talk me out of it. Ahmad was supposed to marry me and make this thing right, make this problem disappear. In my mind there was never anything fancy, just us and a judge, covering this mistake with eternal vows. It had already been at least three months, and he hadn't even asked.

The sky bulged with dark, angry looking clouds, clouds that threatened to explode in magnificent fury. I imagined that it was God's way of expressing His disapproval. As if disapproval was a strong enough word for what God must've been feeling toward me. It had rained all morning as if the heavens had opened up and my clothes were soaked, but not because I didn't have an umbrella. Oh, I had an umbrella tucked away neatly in my little canvas backpack. Believe it or not I wanted to walk in the rain and be cleansed. I wanted to feel the drops, one by one, piercing my skin, chastising me. To me the rain was a kind of baptism, a cleansing for the sin I knew I was about to commit. I waited an hour before I snuck inside the building, trying to reason away what was already dying inside of me. A solitary tear fell from my eye, and it meant nothing because nothing was all there was left. I glanced down at the watch on my wrist, knowing that he had missed his deadline. It was finally clear that Ahmad wasn't coming; that he had made his choice. Unfortunately, here beneath the open sky and the eyes of God, I had to make mine.

It was barely past eight o'clock, and already I felt like I had taken a trip to the pit of hell. It should have been the happiest day of my life, but the flip flopping in my stomach, when Joshua popped that huge rock out of that Tiffany's box, told me that it wasn't. I couldn't stop feeling that there was no coming back from this. Here I was sitting in one of the finest restaurants in New York City being proposed to by a very eligible bachelor, yet I couldn't even look into the eyes of the one I claimed to love. Guilt, torment, and confusion all wrapped themselves around my heart, paralyzing me. Why did the words I had waited thirty long years to hear turn my stomach inside out? Not that I didn't love Joshua, because everything that was woman about me screamed out his name in my dreams. Yes, I loved him, but I wasn't sure he'd still love me if he knew the truth.

He looked into my big, dark eyes with his chestnut brown ones and grinned, revealing two deep dimples. “Alex, will you be my wife?” Joshua kneeled down next to the table. The white linen tablecloth draped itself over his well toned legs. Two waiters, dressed in black and white, stopped and stared as an attractive hostess passed by.

I was speechless. Instead of the joyous leap into his arms that I had always imagined, terror consumed me. Perspiration began to trickle down my eyebrows. He seemed to be waiting for an answer. “Alex, are you okay?”

All I could do was sit still and wonder if I could do it. Could I marry this wonderful, sanctified man and bury the past once and for all? “I . . . I don't know what to say.”

Joshua chuckled. “I hope you'll say yes.”

“Yes, I . . . I . . .” I fumbled with my fork.

“Well?” Joshua's eyes sparkled under the light of the crystal chandelier.

“Of course I'll marry you.” I gave in. Afterall, how could I turn away the only man that was peanut butter to my jelly?

“Wow, you had me afraid for a moment there.” Joshua loosened his tie and collar.

“I'm sorry . . . it's just that I'm so happy and so surprised.” I forced my lips into a smile.

“You had to see this coming. We're together all the time. I love you.” Joshua took my hand in his. “You're one of the few people I can trust.”

His confidence in me made me cringe. “I love you too.”

“You've made me a happy man.” Joshua kissed my lips softly. “I'm going to take care of you.”

For a moment I felt sorry for him because I knew he'd try to take care of me, but there was that pain in me he wouldn't know how to take care of; that pain he knew nothing about. Only God could settle that. Nevertheless, Joshua was a special sort of man, a thirty-five-year-old widower, a distinguished deacon, a son of a bishop, and a ministerial student himself. He was on the fast track into ministry, the future heir to one of the biggest churches in New York City. By day he was the brilliant bank manager for one of the largest banks on the East side and an MBA graduate of MIT. His most important job, however, and the one which impressed me the most, was being a father to his three-year-old daughter, Lilah, although she seemed a bit spoiled for my taste. Fortunately, none of these things were the reasons why I loved him. I loved him for his dedication to the things of God, for how he made me a better person, and for how his sweet smile could bring tears to my eyes.

Joshua and I continued to dine that evening, and I was careful not to let him see worry in my face. I only wanted to enjoy the moment, to be swept away in the romance of my engagement, to envision my wedding day and all the happiness we would share. He grasped my hand. “I'll be right back.”

Then he excused himself to the restroom, and I whispered a prayer. “Lord, please help me to focus on the present.” A shallow calmness fell over me for the remainder of the evening as we ate, laughed, and talked. Still there was uncertainty hidden behind my smile.

The magical night continued with Joshua and me riding in his Chevy Tahoe over the majestic Brooklyn Bridge, with its Gothic Piers lit up in all their urban splendor. I looked out at The Empire State Building, Lady Liberty holding her torch, and numerous other skyscrapers towering over the flowing waters. For a moment I thought of September eleventh as I pictured The World Trade Center, once a dominant force in my world, now just an eerie remembrance lurking behind the clouds. The water glistened under a sky streaked with lights, and I felt God's presence.When we finally arrived at my apartment building, Joshua jumped out and ran over to my side to open the car door as he always did, then we walked up the front steps holding hands. There in front of the metal door to the lobby, he held me in his arms, tucked my hair behind my ears, and planted a goodnight kiss on my lips. It was a gentle kiss, one that reminded me of all the reasons I loved him, and I was shaken by its affect on me. “Tomorrow we'll discuss the wedding plans,” Joshua said. I smiled at the mention of our wedding. “I can't wait.”

“Goodnight.” Joshua started walking back to his car which was double parked.

“Goodnight.” I watched him walk away and admired his gallant stride. The form of his slightly bow shaped legs could be seen through his tailored suit, and I had to fan myself to stay in the Spirit and not fulfill the lust of the flesh.

So I walked into the building, quietly up the flights of stairs leading to the small, two bedroom apartment I shared with my twin sister. Before I could turn the key in the lock, Taylor swung the door open.

“You're back already?” Taylor confronted me, as she often did, with one hand on her hip.

“I should be saying the same thing about you.” I was surprised she wasn't out with one of her many scandalous suitors.

“I was a little tired tonight so I cancelled.” Taylor sat down on the velour couch.“But what's up with that smile on your face, girl?”

I showed her the diamond on my ring finger. “Joshua purposed tonight.”

“Nice bling,” Taylor said, grabbing my hand. “I guess Deacon has got some sweet taste, huh?”

“Oh, yes.” I looked down at it, still admiring the ring. “I said . . . yes.”

“That ain't no surprise, but why do you sound so funny about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this is Deacon Joshua Bennings we're talking about here. You been all up on him for months now. He's so this and he's so that.”

“I have not.” I put my hands on my cheeks to hide my embarrassment.

“Seems like you would be jumping up and down with joy. And all I get is a ring in my face and a fake smile.” Taylor smirked. “Uh-uh. Something is up.”

“Oh, it's nothing. I'm just happy, that's all.” It wasn't easy trying to fool my sister. After thirty years of living together, in addition to the nine months we shared in the womb, she knew me all too well.

“Good, 'cause I'm all for couples getting their groove on, especially my almost identical twin.” Taylor hugged me tightly, and then let me go. She was a jazzier, more muscular, weave wearing, tough mouthed version of me; a diva from the beginning to the end. “Hey, better you than me. I ain't tryin' to let nobody lock me down.”

“Well, the way you run, there is little chance anyone would be able to catch up to you in the first place.” I laughed heartily.

“Yeah, girl, but I've got to hand it to you; you work fast.” Taylor smacked her gum like gum was going out of style.

“What do you mean?”

“You've only been dating homeboy for three months.”

“Oh, come on, we've known each other for much longer than that.” Now I was on the defensive.

“Yeah, I know he has been around for a while, but every female in the church had their eyes on him too.” Taylor snapped her fingers. “You really worked it, girl.”

“He worked it; God, I mean.”

“Whatever.” Taylor rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know you and Mr. soon-to-be-a-minister had this weird holy roller relationship thing going, but still . . . three months. I'm just sayin' I ain't mad at ya.” Taylor gave me a high five, and then walked into the bathroom without another word.

I was used to my sister always being the rebellious one, but the way she felt about God and organized religion kept me on my knees. She was never big on church stuff even though Mom was. But right after Mom died, things took an obvious turn for the worse. She told me and Aunt Dorothy that it was the church that killed Mom. All that unrealistic faith talk, together with Daddy's years of infidelity, that is. She swore right there, before we ever left the cemetery, that she'd have nothing more to do with either of them. Now Taylor could be a little overly dramatic at times, but not one of us, not even Aunt Dorothy, dared to cross her.

Yet, even though my identical twin sister was a drama queen, she was right. Everything had happened so fast. Joshua and I knew each other from the Bible college since he began taking classes there, but it wasn't until my church started partnering with his about six months ago that he seemed to notice me on a different level. First of all, he left his dad's church to join ours because he claimed he wanted to follow the intricate inner workings of a smaller church. Personally, I thought there was some kind of rift in the relationship between him and his parents. In any case, he began working diligently at Missionary, and I started to notice him. Good looking, single, and working for God.

I didn't find that combination too often. I still don't know what it was that made him interested in me, since I wasn't the glamorous type, and he certainly had his share of potential female companions. I sure was glad, though, when he sat me down one day after Sunday service and said he wanted us to see each other exclusively, to see where our relationship would go. Now that was a great day. I mean when a handsome, successful, God fearing man like Joshua Bennings asks if you're interested in courting, you shout an emphatic yes, amen, hallelujah, and hold your breath, all the while hoping he doesn't change his mind.

My cell phone rang, and I answered it quickly.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hi, babe. I have great news.” Joshua's voice exuded excitement.

“Really? Better than everything that has already happened tonight?”

“Well, it's not better than you agreeing to become my wife, but it's good.”

“What is it?” Now I was intrigued.

“My mother and Lilah will be back in town the day after tomorrow, so we'll be able to spend time together, this time as a family.” Joshua chuckled.

“That sounds great,” I lied. “I can't wait.”

I listened intently while he explained the change in plans. Joshua's mother had cut her trip to Chicago short so I'd be faced with spending extended amounts of time with Lilah sooner than I expected. I managed to escape the inevitable in the three months we were exclusively seeing each other, since the child had been shuffled off to visit her paternal great-grandmother.

Now that Joshua's mother had picked her up from Chicago, she'd be back in action. I'd have to smile, be friendly, and most of all, I'd have to be motherly. Don't get me wrong; it's not that I didn't want to be a part of that sweet little girl's life, but I just didn't think I had it in me anymore. I had tried once before, only to be disappointed in myself, when at the last minute, I freaked out and left town with the choir. I didn't even belong to the choir, but I knew as soon as we were scheduled to spend a weekend together, I had to get the heck out of there. So I used the excuse of the choir's spring concert, and it won me a little time. Unfortunately, this time, leaving was not an option. I'd have to stay and face my own fears. I'd have to look into her eyes, cuddle her in my arms, and have the same nightmare I always had. Of them.