Goodness and Mercy Read online

  She looked down at herself. “I’ve gained a few pounds.”

  “But it looks good on you, real good.”

  “Thank you. I feel good. Really, I do. I never knew what was missing in my life until I gave my life to Christ.”

  “Good to hear. Glad things are working out for you.” He sat down and opened the bag, pulling out two of everything: cinnamon buns, scrambled eggs, sausage patties, biscuits, and two large cups of coffee—one black, one hazelnut and caramel flavored.

  Gabrielle went to the sink and washed, then dried her hands. She took down two plates and grabbed up two forks and two case knives from a drawer, placing them on the table as she sat down.

  They each fixed their respective plates. Clarence took a forkful of his eggs and hurriedly shoved it in his mouth.

  “I’d like to say grace,” Gabrielle said, effectively halting his next forkful in midair. She bowed her head. Clarence lowered his fork and followed suit by bowing his head as well. “Amen,” she said after her short prayer that encompassed a tad more than just praying over their food.

  “Amen,” Clarence said. He then went back to shoveling food into his mouth.

  Gabrielle laughed. “I suppose you really are hungry,” she said.

  “What?” he said through a mouthful of food. “You thought I was making up something just so I could stop by?”

  “I know how your mind works. You try to act as if you’re this tough guy, when in fact you’re just a big old teddy bear.”

  “Well, you know that’s what people used to call me,” Clarence said.

  “What? Teddy bear? No, I didn’t know that.”

  He cocked his head to the side and smiled. “Yes, you did. You can look at me and see a little of it still hanging on. Sure, I’ve gotten in a lot better shape since those days, but don’t I still remind you of a teddy bear?” He made a cuddly face. “And I know you’ve heard a few people call me Teddy.”

  She laughed. “Well, since I didn’t know you when you were young, I wouldn’t know anything about that part of your history. How was I supposed to know you looked like a teddy bear growing up?” She pulled loose a thick, doughy strand from her cinnamon bun and placed it in her mouth. “I thought those people were calling you Teddy because of your voice and the way you think you can sing and kind of sound like Teddy Pendergrass.”

  “You make me sound so old,” he said, frowning. “I’m only what . . . ? Eight . . . eight and a half years older than you.”

  “Of course I’m not saying you’re old. All I said was that I didn’t know you when you were younger.”

  “So, are you implying that I can’t sing?”

  “Just like your apparent nickname Teddy Bear that I didn’t know about, I don’t know whether you can sing or not,” Gabrielle said. “I’m just repeating what someone said to you: that you have a nice voice that reminded them of Teddy Pendergrass.”

  “Well, I used to sing a lot—in the choir at church, in fact. When I took hold of the microphone, I would have people running all over that church. They would buck and shout, praising God like there was no tomorrow. It was actually something to behold.”

  She sipped a little of her coffee. “So, why did you leave?”

  “Why did I leave what?”

  “The church? Why did you leave the church? Why did you stop singing for the Lord?”

  “I didn’t leave the church. You could say the church left me.” He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth hard, then his hands before throwing the napkin on the table.

  “I don’t get it. My understanding is that the church is the people of God. The church is the body of Christ. From the little snippets you’ve dropped lately, I’m starting to learn that you were part of the body, at least you were at one time.”

  “And the rest of the body cut me off.” He sliced hard into his cinnamon bun in sync with the word cut, practically ramming the piece he’d cut into his mouth. He began to chew hard and deliberately. “Just like tonsils or an appendix: something that’s part of the body that apparently no one has any real use for anymore or knows what its purpose is. Just get rid of it. It’s not really needed anyway. But that’s life. The more you live, the more you learn to let things go and move on. Because if you don’t, if you stand there trying to figure it all out, you’re liable to get run over.” He clapped his hands together fast and hard.

  Gabrielle finished her coffee and pushed her plate forward. She shrugged. “That was good. Thanks for breakfast. Now I’ll have to work to get rid of that cinnamon bun.”

  “No problem.” He finished off his coffee, then stood up and cleared the table.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Gabrielle said, jumping up and almost grabbing the two empty plates from his hand.

  “Will you let go?” Clarence said, holding on tight. “I got this. Contrary to what people say behind my back, I do know how to clean up behind myself.”

  “But you’ve done enough. You brought me breakfast.”

  “Yeah, well, I really would like to talk to you about you letting me do even more for you.” Clarence opened up the dishwasher to put the dishes in. He saw it was completely empty. Any dishes to be washed were in a neat pile in the sink.

  Gabrielle bounced a few times. “I told you, I’m good.”

  “So, where are you working?” He put the dishes in the sink.

  She placed her hand on her hip. “I’m fine, Clarence.” She forced a smile. “I’m telling you, for real. God is good.”

  “God may be good, but it can be hard out there. I know. I know plenty of people who have lost a lot while they believed God was going to come and magically rescue them. Believing they could pray their troubles away. Believing God was going to swoop in and save their house or their cars or their livelihood, right before they lost everything. I know how hard things can be out there. And I want to help you.” He shrugged as though he’d been asked a question he didn’t know the answer to.

  Gabrielle began to bounce, even more this time, as she buttoned her lips, then made a popping sound. “How? How do you think you can help me?”

  “Come back and work for me.”

  “No, Clarence.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that’s not who I am anymore.”

  “Who are you now?” Clarence asked.

  “I am a new creature in Christ,” Gabrielle said.

  “Yeah, okay. I’ve heard that one. So tell me: how’s that working for you? How is it when it comes to paying your bills? And I know you have bills.”

  “I’m trusting God.”

  “Trusting God, that’s good,” Clarence said. “But you still have to do your part. Sure, God knows what you’re in need of, but God is not moved by people’s needs. If that were the case, there would be no homeless people, no starving children in Africa, no mistreatment of children in America or the elderly in nursing homes. And before you quote the next standard Christian line, ‘God knows my heart,’ let me remind you: That’s all well and good, but a good heart won’t put food on the table or pay your power bill. If you don’t believe me, call the power company. Tell them you can’t pay your bill this month but you have a good heart. Call and tell them that. See where that leaves you. My guess is you’ll be in the dark soon. So, why won’t you tell me what kind of work you’re doing? If you’re so confident in God, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to tell me what you’re doing to make a living these days.”

  Gabrielle looked at him. She changed the position of her head several times. “That seems to imply that I even owe you an answer.”

  “See, proof positive that things aren’t going the way you thought they would when you decided to accept Christ and His way of life, then quit your job after ward.”

  “I work for a maid service, okay?” She opened up both her hands and held them, palm up, next to her sides. “I’m not ashamed of what I do. And I’m definitely not ashamed of my God.”

  He smiled. “A maid? You’re cleaning up behind other folks? You? Goodness, I
don’t believe what I’m hearing here. As talented as you are, the best you could find to do when you left my establishment was to get a job as a maid? A maid? And you call that God supplying your need according to His riches in glory? A maid? Goodness!”

  “Clarence, let me tell you something.” She flicked a finger at him. “What I have with the Lord right now is better than anything . . . anything I’ve ever possessed in my entire life.”

  “And what exactly is that? The pleasure of saying you get to clean other folks’ houses so that you can try . . . try, I repeat, to pay for and stay in your own?”

  “I am not ashamed of what I do. And I have a peace that surpasses your understanding and a joy that nobody gave to me and nobody, not even you right now in all that you’re trying to do, can take away from me. I don’t care what comes up in my life, I’m going to stand, do you hear me, Clarence?”

  “Come back and work for me,” he said, walking closer to her. “You could do it for a few months, possibly until the end of the year. You could make enough money to pay off all your bills. You could be debt free. Think about that. Look, I’ve been where you are before. I know how hard things can get. And for those who try to tell you that they have Jesus and that’s enough, they’re just fronting. Sure, they love having Jesus in their lives, but they keep praying for more money, praying to be out of debt. Let me help you. Allow God to bless you through me. I don’t know if you’ve seen this scripture in the Bible yet, but it says something to the effect that the wealth of the wicked or the sinner is laid up for the just. I don’t consider myself wicked by any means, although I’m sure you could successfully argue that I am a sinner. But if you believe that because I don’t go to church that makes me a sinner, then think of what you’re attempting to do to help alleviate your financial stress right now as a fulfillment of God’s Word. Look at it as though you’re taking the money I’m offering to pay you as transferring the wealth of the wicked to the just. Goodness, that’s a transfer, don’t you think?”

  Gabrielle started laughing. “As we heard way too much last year about the bridge to nowhere to the point where it got on my nerves,” she said. “Thanks, but no thanks. And I suppose it’s about time for me to put you out.”

  “What?”

  She grabbed Clarence by his shirt and—in a playful way that only the two of them could appreciate—Gabrielle walked him to her front door. “Since you know something about the Bible, maybe you’re familiar with the part in it where it says, ‘If the devil makes his way into your house, it’s up to you to put him out.’ Well, I might have let you in Clarence, but it’s time for me to put you out.”

  Clarence laughed as she opened the door. “Girl, I know you’re not calling me the devil. I know you know better than that. And exactly where in the Bible is that scripture?”

  “I know the devil will use those we care about and those who care about us to gain entrance into our lives. I also know he will use people we hardly know, as well as perfect strangers. So, that about covers you. And although I’m not exactly calling you the devil, right now you are trying to put forth his agenda. And I’m not having it. Not in my house, anyway. Now, you don’t have to go home, but you do have to get up out of here.”

  He laughed as he shook his head. “You know you’re crazy, right?”

  “No, I have the mind of Christ. And you can officially call this act: Goodness and Mercy putting you out of this house. Okay ?” She cocked her head to the side and threw him a grin as she playfully moved her eyebrows up and down.

  Clarence laughed even harder. “You know, you really are taking this Jesus stuff way too serious, way too seriously. But I ain’t mad at cha.” He stopped laughing. “But seriously, though, if you ever need anything . . . anything. Money, something to eat, an ear, a shoulder to cry on . . . and even if you don’t want to come back and work for me, I hope you know that I’m here. I’ll happily spot you whatever you’re in need of until you land back on your feet. I mean that. And as far as your job goes—”

  “Good-bye, Clarence.”

  He smiled as he took out a stick of Wrigley’s Spearmint gum, unwrapped it, then placed it on his tongue—drawing it inside of his mouth as though his tongue were the landing that the bird inside of a cuckoo clock rides on. And the same way the cuckoo bird disappears before turning in until the next hour, his gum disappeared inside his mouth. “Oh, and happy birthday,” he said as he left.

  Chapter 11

  Praise him with the timbrel and dance: praise him with the stringed instruments and organs.

  —Psalm 150:4

  Gabrielle had made a decision. It was true, she couldn’t sustain her bills on the salary she was now making. Clarence had made a compelling and generous offer for her to return to her old job. But if she did, that would be like what Proverbs 26:11 says: “As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly.”

  The first of June, her house would be put up for sale. As much as she loved her house, she merely couldn’t afford to keep it on her salary.

  The fifth Sunday in May, Johnnie Mae Landris stood before the congregation to make a special announcement. The dance ministry would not only be starting back up again, but until they found the right person to be the director, she would be heading it up.

  “So, we’re looking for all interested members. Anyone from age fourteen to ninety-nine who has a desire to possibly be a part of the dance ministry, please meet with me in conference room ten immediately after services today. If you’ve had dancing lessons, or if you’re like many who’ve never been professionally trained but you have a heart and a desire to become part of the dance ministry, please meet with me as soon as service is over today in conference room ten.”

  Gabrielle couldn’t believe her ears. She loved to dance. She had a heart for dancing. This was like a dream come true. As soon as Pastor Landris ended service, telling everyone not only to be blessed but to be a blessing, she made a beeline for the conference room. She was almost the first person there. About five minutes later, she looked up and was delighted to see Fatima walk in.

  “I knew you’d be here,” Fatima said to Gabrielle as she sat in the seat next to her.

  “How did you know?”

  “Girl, please. I saw the look on your face back in January at the Inaugural Ball when the Mothers of the church were talking about the dance ministry. Your face lit up like a Christmas tree when you heard there was such a thing.”

  “Yeah, but I also learned it had been placed on ice for the time being. It was amazing just to hear there was a form of dancing available in the church,” Gabrielle said.

  “Well, not all churches have or allow dance teams. Some churches don’t believe people should dance in church, even if it is spiritual. They think when you do that, you’re bringing too much of the world inside of the church walls,” Fatima said as they continued to wait for Johnnie Mae to arrive.

  “Well, I know that Moses’ sister, Miriam I believe, danced for the Lord.”

  Fatima was impressed with Gabrielle. She had truly been studious when it came to the Bible. Fatima was convinced that even though she’d been in church a lot longer than Gabrielle, Gabrielle had surpassed her in her knowledge of what the Bible had to say on a variety of topics.

  “Ironically,” Fatima said, “I believe when King David danced in the street and ended up dancing out of his clothes, that caused many to feel that dancing, even in church, is inappropriate. It’s all because David couldn’t keep his clothes on.” Fatima smiled as she shook her head.

  “Wow,” Gabrielle said. “I’m sure I read that since I’ve now read the whole Bible, but somehow I must not have grasped that.”

  “Well, I’ve only heard people talk about David dancing out of his clothes—that’s how I know it’s in there. But I’m sure that’s not the only reason some people are against dancing in church. Many of them, as a general rule, believe that dancing is just worldly.”

  Johnnie Mae walked in. Everyone quieted down. There was a packet han
ded out. Those who remained interested after the meeting concluded were asked to take it home and read it. Various new rules were being put into place to ensure the integrity of the dance ministry. There was a form that needed to be completed and turned in by anyone who was serious about joining the ministry and not just there to see what was going on.

  “There will be an audition two Saturdays from now,” Johnnie Mae said. “Any questions?” she asked when she’d finished highlighting things in the packet now in all of their possession.

  “Yes,” a woman in her midtwenties said. “Why do we have to audition? I mean, if we’re doing this for the Lord, does it matter whether we’re good or not? I thought God looked at our hearts and not at the outside. I might audition and be told that I’m not good enough to be chosen for the ministry. Yet I might have a heart for ministering through dance and a willingness to give my all, whereas someone who can dance wonderfully may not.”

  “That’s true,” Johnnie Mae said. “But we still want whatever we do to be done with a Spirit of Excellence. God has not purposed or gifted all of us to do the same thing. We have different talents, different callings, and yes, different gifts. Sometimes a person may have a desire to do something they have not been gifted or called to do.”

  “But I have a problem with that,” the woman continued. “With all due respect, I don’t think that’s the way things ought to be done in church.”

  “Okay, let me ask this. What if you have a person who, let’s say, wants to sing. That person has a heart for ministry through song, but they cannot sing. I mean, that person couldn’t carry a tune if you were to put an iPod in a backpack and personally strap it to their back.” Everyone laughed. Johnnie Mae continued. “Would you put that person out in front to minister to people just because it’s what they want to do?”