Chapter 17
Mason's Story
He'd never stood up this much in church, but there was something about the praise and worship service at New Hope that kept Mason on his feet. The songs were spirit-filled, and the praise team sang with elevated conviction. If heaven truly had a choir, this must be close to what those cherubic voices sounded like.
Mason felt like he was in the presence of God now, but the morning certainly hadn't started out that way.
He'd basically had to beg Elaine to keep her word. She had agreed that they would go to New Hope Church instead of Temple of God's Word. Yet, Elaine got up Sunday morning with a case of amnesia, pretending that she was mystified when he mentioned their plan for the day. By the time they finished arguing as they got prepared for service, Mason was about ready to wave the white towel of surrender. Fussing with Elaine was physically draining. Literally.
Mason sweated through two dress shirts during their hour-long heated discussion. It was as though Elaine felt like missing a Sunday at Temple of God's Word was a cardinal sin that came with no forgiveness. A one-way ticket to hell to spend eternity with the devil and his goons. Knowing that most of it was her need to feel as though she was keeping her promise to Essie, Mason made a valiant attempt to be understanding. But Elaine had only promised Essie that they'd go to church with her the Sunday following her conversation with the elderly woman. They hadn't signed in blood that they'd go to Temple of God's Word and
only
Temple of God's Word for the rest of their lives. But one would have thought so with the way Elaine carried on.
In the end, Mason won. There was no TKO. He'd had to go the full twelve rounds, and his win was definitely a split decision. Nothing unanimous about this one. And he didn't get through it without feeling the body aches of a man whose endurance had been pushed to the limits. Elaine had proved herself to be a worthy challenger. The verbal combat had exhausted him, but the win still made him want to break into one of those tap dancing routines that he'd often seen the WB frog do on television back in the day.
But he didn't.
When the couple finally arrived at the church, they'd both been a bit intimidated by the throng of people who were pressing toward the entrance door. The parking lot alone was unsettling. Cars belonging to people who went to the early morning service were pulling out, while new arrivals for the second service vied for the precious spots.
Mason saw his wife look at her watch as they pulled onto the church property. “It's barely eleven-fifteen, and the parking lot is already just about filled. I thought you said they started at eleven-thirty. Are we late?”
“We're not late, Elaine. They're just more prompt than the people we normally worship with.”
“We probably won't even find a good seat in this big old church,” Elaine grumbled.
Mason climbed from the driver's seat and slipped on his suit jacket. She was trying his patience, but he remained silent. The sunglasses he'd worn while driving were still covering his eyes. He peered through them at Elaine as she rounded the trunk of the car. The melon-colored dress and matching high-heeled sandals that she wore was a sharp ensemble that he'd not seen her in before today. It must have been new. She'd been shopping quite a bit recently, buying new clothes that would fit her slimmer figure.
Shaking his head and turning away was all that Mason could do to keep from making a remark that he knew he'd regret. He was all for being fit. Heck. He'd pay good money if he could find a pill that would make his expanding midsection shrink overnight. But Elaine had adopted more than just an active lifestyle; she'd become fixated with the whole idea of weight management. Gone were the steep curves that he used to love, and the ample behind that made his insides quiver was performing a disappearing act that he didn't find entertaining at all.
If he thought his opinion mattered to her, Mason would tell Elaine not to lose any more weight. Going back and recovering some of what she'd already shed would be even better. But why should she change for him? He hadn't touched her in years. Okay, it wasn't years. But it sure felt like it.
God, please restore me. Make me whole again. I need my manhood back. I need to be a husband. Help me to forgive . . . forget . . . do whatever needs to be done to find healing.
He'd been praying that prayer in his heart ever since his meeting with Reverend Tides.
“Well, are you coming or not?” Elaine's voice snapped Mason back from wherever his mind had traveled. He didn't even realize he'd been staring mindlessly at her. It was almost 80 degrees, but Elaine used her arms to hug her body like she was cold as she continued to reprimand him. “We're already not gonna get a good seat, Mason. If you move any slower, we won't even be able to get in the church period. You're the one who wanted to come here today, so why are you standing there looking at me like you're having second thoughts?”
She still wasn't thrilled about coming to New Hope and Mason knew it. “I'm coming.” He pulled his brush from the cup holder in the armrest that divided the driver's seat from the passenger's and raked it over his head a few times for good measure. It was almost time for a haircut, but it would wait until next weekend. “Okay, I'm ready.”
The two of them walked side-by-side toward the entrance-way and were met by several greeters who handed them church bulletins, offering envelopes, and one even offered them a Bible.
“We have one.” Elaine sounded offended, and Mason gave her a side glance as they walked toward the wooden doors that would place them inside the sanctuary.
“What's wrong with you?” he whispered.
“What's wrong with
him
?” She nodded toward the greeter as she whispered back. “What makes him think I need a Bible? I don't look holy enough for him or something? How is he just gonna assume?”
Mason's forehead creased. “I think he was just being friendly, Elaine. Lighten up.”
He heard her harrumph and then say, “These people who go to these big ole churches that got famous pastors, think they're so much closer to Jesus than everybody else.”
Mason clenched his teeth to keep from telling her to shut her piehole, but something needed to be said about her unwarranted bashing. He'd developed an unexplained closeness to Reverend Tides; trusted him more than he trusted his own mama, not to mention his absent daddy. No way was he not going to defend the man of God's honor.
Mason waited until they were seated before responding, and when he did, he kept his voice as low as possible to be sure the others seated near them couldn't easily hear. “Why would you make a judgment call like that? You just called that usher judgmental, and now you're doing the same thing. That man don't know us from Adam and Eve. He don't know what size church we go to, so how would he know to treat us differently because of it? New Hope ain't the biggest church in metropolitan Atlanta. For all he knows, we could go to that mega church over in Decatur whose pastor has not only been seen on televised ministry broadcasting, but in actual movies and music videos. This church ain't got nothing on the size of that one.”
“Umph,” was Elaine's reply.
When she folded her arms and sat back, Mason knew he'd won another one. Two bouts in one day. Two marks in the win column. He was on a roll. And anyone who knew Elaine knew that winning one round against her wasn't an easy feat, let alone winning the whole match. He had recuperated enough from this morning's bout with her to carry out that frog dance now.
But he didn't.
Mason looked around them for any signs of T.K. With the size of the edifice, it was probably a lost cause, but he scanned his surroundings anyway. While he didn't see T.K., he did notice Mother Mildred Tides, Reverend Tides's wife, enter from a side door flanked by two attendants. She sat up front in a corner chair with other hat-wearing women who appeared to be church mothers. He saw two tall, handsome young men, who he knew to be Reverend Tides's sons, walk in as well. One stopped at the front row of the center section and the other made his way to the pulpit, pausing to kneel and pray before taking his seat.
“How late do they stay in service here?”
Mason looked at Elaine and struggled to keep his aggravation from showing on his face. He wasn't as successful with keeping it out of his voice. “This is my first time being in service here too, Elaine. Your guess is as good as mine.”
She looked back at him like he had some nerve getting facetious with her. “Seems like you would have found that out before agreeing to come. What if this is one of those four-hour Sunday morning service churches? I have work to do. Writing deadlines to meet. I can't be here all morning and all afternoon. It don't take all day to praise the Lord.”
Mason sighed, willing his unraveling nerves to remain under control. “T.K. is never in church that late, Elaine. I don't think that's something that we have to concern ourselves with. Just sit back and relax. It's almost time for service to get started.”
“Yeah.
If
they start on time.”
Mason bit his bottom lip to keep from saying the words that were bombarding his mind. What was her problem today? Elaine wasn't usually a grouch like this. Maybe if she ate more, she wouldn't be so grumpy. His mama had always taught him and his brothers to eat well before going to school and before going to work. She said hungry people always had foul attitudes. Until now, Mason had questioned the validity of her declaration, but Elaine was living proof.
It wasn't as if services at Temple of God's Word ever kicked off on time. And what was the hurry anyway? Elaine had plenty of time to get some writing done today. It wasn't like she had anywhere to be. Mason tossed a glare in her direction. She was really getting on his nerves.
“Let us stand and give our God a worthy praise,” Minister Jackson Tides said, taking the podium.
It was only then that Mason began to unwind.
“Let's let the Father in heaven know that He is welcome in this place,” Jackson urged in a commanding voice while his eyes scanned the crowd. “Cast your cares, pitch your problems, hurl your heavy burdens.... Toss everything that threatens to steal your joy at the feet of the Almighty King.” While he spoke, he held the cordless microphone in his right hand and gestured vigorously with his left, as though he was using all his might to throw his problems at Jesus' feet.
Amidst the rising sounds of music from the keyboard, organ, drums, and guitar, the crowd of thousands that had assembled into New Hope Church began a verbal worship, accompanied by clapping, waving; some even leaping as the Holy Spirit wasted no time saturating the sanctuary.
And just like that, Mason felt himself being drawn into the presence of holiness. He felt balls of tensionâtension that he didn't even realize he had in his neck and shouldersâloosen. At the end of his meeting with Reverend Tides, the pastor had used those same words:
Cast your cares
. Mason had heard them before, but had never given them any real thought and basically didn't even know what they meant. Up until his talk with Reverend Tides, they'd just been words that church people used, but the patient preacher had talked to him; given him a crash course on what it meant to truly release it all to God. It had been hard to reach that point during the meeting, but as he stood in praise with the body of New Hope, Mason felt as though he had spiritual cheerleaders egging him on; daring him to give God all he had.
“Praising Him will be the beginning of your healing,” Reverend Tides had told him. “Satan is going to do all he can, even use anybody that he can, to try and dissuade you from praising your way through. But you've got to do it anyway.”
No truer words had ever been spoken. Getting to church today and finding the strength to worship had been anything but easy. Realizing now that it wasn't just a battle that he'd won against Elaine, but a war for which he could claim victory over Satan, Mason felt overjoyed with emotions. He found himself really wanting to work his way to the center aisle and froggie tap his way the full distance to the front of the church.
And he did.