27

“Hey, Mama, we’re here,” Misha shouted as she walked into the kitchen of the small brick ranch house she grew up in. The smell of homemade biscuits cooking filled the air. She felt good about being in Atlanta for the holidays and to celebrate Courtney’s first birthday.

Her mother rushed down the hallway headed straight for Courtney who was crouched in Matthew’s arms.

“Wait,” Misha said. She threw out her hands to stop her mother’s approach. Matthew stood Courtney on the floor.

Courtney gripped Matthew’s leg as if she was holding on for dear life. She looked from side to side, trying to assess her environment or find what she can get into. Then she relaxed and released one arm from his leg.

“Call her,” Misha instructed her mom.

“Courtney, baby, come to Nana.” Her mother held out her hands toward the baby who was trying to steady herself.

Courtney released her other hand and fell to the floor. She looked to see if anyone was going to pick her up. When the adults did not run to her aid, she rolled over and crawled to a chair. She grabbed the seat of the chair and stood. After gaining her balance, she took a few unsteady steps toward her grandmother who was patiently waiting for her.

“She’s walking. Oh my goodness. Look how big my baby has gotten,” Misha’s mom said as she reached for the baby in front of her.

Matthew walked to his mother-in-law, hugged her and kissed her cheek. Courtney gripped his arms trying to pull him to her.

“I can see who’s spoiling her. Here take her. I’ve got to check on my food in the oven,” She handed Courtney to Matthew. “Y’all come on in and make yourself at home.”

Misha, Matthew and Courtney sat at the small kitchen table. Nothing much had changed in the room. The old clock was still hanging from the hook near the door. The curtains were new, but still the familiar green color.

Misha wanted to purchase her parents a new home when she got her settlement, but they refused. They were comfortable in their community with their friends, neighbors and church. They did not want to leave all that they had worked hard for.

There weren’t many good times for Misha in this house, except the time Justin found out she knew Matthew. Misha smiled. She was pregnant. That was the first time her mother did not send her on the multiple holiday shopping trips to pick up one or two forgotten items. She sent her brother instead. That’s when he spotted Misha and Matthew’s picture in a magazine near the checkout lane. The rest was history.

“I want y’all to know I’m anointed to cast out devils. Anybody got a devil in them?” Misha’s father entered the room with his usual wit and charm.

Matthew laughed loudly and stood to embrace him. Misha smiled and did the same. Somehow her daddy seemed shorter and wider than she remembered. He definitely had less hair.

“Hey, pumpkin. How are you?” Misha’s father said, kissing her on the forehead. “Look at my beautiful granddaughter. Come to Papa.” He took Courtney from Misha’s arms and walked into the adjoining family room with her.

“Misha, can you do me a favor?” her mother asked. Misha already knew what it was. “Can you run to the store for me?”

Misha laughed. She was back at home now. Some things never change.

“I’ll go with you,” Matthew said.

“No. You stay here. You draw too much attention. I want to get in and out in a hurry.” Misha lifted her purse and took the grocery list her mother was extending from her hand.

About fifteen minutes later, Misha pulled into the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly and rushed in to purchase her mother’s first list that was comprised of chicken broth—Campbell’s only—Lipton tea bags—family size—and five pounds of sugar.

“Mimi? Is that you?”

Misha rolled her eyes. She knew that voice. Why did she have to run into him? She plastered a smile on her face and prepared to give her perfect life speech to her old boyfriend, Roger. Watching him approach her, she couldn’t understand what she ever saw in him. She searched his face and body to find a reason and failed to find one.

“It’s funny running into you here. Are you here for the holidays? Look at you. Married life looks good on you. Now you know if he doesn’t act right, I’m still here.” Roger laughed. He was the only one laughing.

He’s got to be kidding. Never in this lifetime or another would he and Misha get together for any reason. He left her at a point in time when she needed someone. He chose his career over their life together. Then he tried to destroy her. God had the last laugh though. She survived and came out on top, despite all the foolishness he put her through.

“I called you at the church. Did you get my messages? I wanted you to come and preach on Women’s Day at my church.”

She did the women’s day thing with him once and got burned. She was not going to jump into that oven again. “No, I didn’t get the message,” she lied and immediately repented. He should have gotten the hint when she didn’t return his phone calls.

“Look, you don’t have to wait until Women’s Day. I’ll call you, and we can make arrangements for you to preach. Where’s Bernard? He can come with you and sing if he wants to. We can have a couple’s night, and you can minister to the couples.”

Be for real. Couples night? Who was he fooling? He was trying to get Bernard to sing at his church. He didn’t realize Matthew was a better preacher than he was a singer. He would rather preach. Misha was not about to tell him that. She had to get away from this man. Although he aggravated her, she felt sorry for him. They had dated for several years. She could easily pick up on his moods. He was having a hard time. She was not the one to rescue him.

“Roger, it’s good seeing you. I have to get back with this stuff for my mom. You know how she is with her never-ending shopping lists.” Misha held up the paper in her hand.

“She’s still doing that? Well, okay. Call me after the holidays and we can schedule something.”

Misha waved and walked away from him. She could almost hear her grandmother’s voice saying, “He ain’t no count.” She never did like him. She was right about him.

 

 

Misha sat with her family watching television and waiting for her brother Justin and his family to arrive.

“Misha, don’t forget church starts at ten Sunday. Pastor will be happy to see you and Bernard,” her mother reminded her.

“Matthew and Courtney are going to church with you. I’ve got something to do.”

“What’s more important than going to church?”

“I’ve got something to do, that’s all.” Misha walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of tea. “Guess who I ran into at the store. Roger,” she answered before anyone had time to reply. “He looks like he’s doing well.”

“What is he doing, stalking you? He called here a few times looking for your number. I didn’t give it to him,” her mother said. The topic of Roger seemed to distract her for a moment as she filled Misha in on the latest gossip surrounding Roger and his church. Misha tuned her out. Tomorrow was an important day for her. She was going back to Bishop’s church. She thought she was never going to step foot in that church again. But it was time for her to move on. In order to move forward, she had to come to terms with her past. This was the same past that had come back to force her to deal with it.

She learned a lot from the conference, not from the conference itself, but from the people God placed her with. They had built a strong bond. The last time they spoke, she hated to get off the phone. Her life was much better now that she had friends who understood what it was to be her and didn’t judge her when she did something silly. Misha especially loved the way they corrected her when she needed it. They were not afraid of the gift. Shante and Deandrea said they were more afraid of her going to hell than about her being able to prophesy. God had blessed her with two friends who were real.

 

 

Misha always enjoyed being with her family at Christmas. The lights and sounds of the holidays helped her to forget her troubles. However, she couldn’t keep what she had to do off her mind. Misha had an uncomfortable sleep. She tossed and turned all night until she finally got up and walked to the den, not wanting to disturb Matthew from his sleep. The night was long and daylight finally shown through the window. Misha reluctantly began her routine and began the day that could change her life.

 

 

Misha walked up the stairs to the traditional red brick church. She was greeted by a young lady who looked as if she was stunned to see her. “Misha?” She looked as if she had seen a ghost.

Misha acknowledged the usher at her old church and walked into the sanctuary. Her legs seemed to fail her. She could feel them shaking as she took a seat in the back of the church. She didn’t know if she could do this. People filed past her as if they did not see her, as not one of them greeted her. How could they miss her in the bright red suit she wore? She selected this suit because it screamed power, authority, confidence and boldness, all the characteristics she needed to get this over with.

Bishop Moore and the associate ministers paraded into the sanctuary and took their place in the pulpit. Bishop scanned the congregation as if he was looking for someone. His and Misha’s eyes connected. He leaned to one of the associates and whispered something in his ear. He then looked up with a staunch look on his face.

Misha could not tell if he was happy or not. His facial expression was tight. She did not come there to distract the service, but she was prepared to leave if asked.

The service progressed much like it did when she attended there. The first day she walked in here everything was so different than the Pentecostal church she was used to. Bishop taught, and it moved her in ways she could never explain. There was nobody that could preach like Bishop. He was definitely old school with a new twist.

Misha looked at the many familiar faces and a few new ones. There seemed to be fewer people in attendance this morning. The sanctuary felt smaller than she remembered. On the front pew, First Lady Moore sat proudly in her place, wearing a deep purple suit with matching hat. She always knew how to dress. Some things don’t change.

Bishop stood at the “sacred desk,” as he called it, and began his remarks.

“I see one of my daughters has returned to visit with us this morning. Misha Holloway, or should I say, Misha Taylor, please come join us here in the pulpit. You know we always have a seat for you in our pulpit.”

Misha’s legs shook. She hesitated. She didn’t know if he was trying to set her up to embarrass her. Was he about to make good on his threats? She came here to set things straight and sitting in the pulpit would help her do what she needed to do. God had already showed her what to do and say.

“Misha, I know you might be reluctant to join me here. Please, I invite you to join us in the pulpit of your church.”

My church? Where did that come from? Misha gripped the pew in front of her and pulled her body upward. She walked as fast as possible toward the pulpit. She climbed the four steps leading into the pulpit and shook the hands of the associates as she approached the center where Bishop stood.

“Y’all welcome Misha Holloway Taylor back home. The prodigal daughter has returned,” Bishop told the congregation as they stood to their feet clapping their hands. These were the same people who yelled, “crucify her, crucify her,” when Bishop called her a witch. Now she was the “prodigal daughter.” He had some nerve.

“Misha, come up here and give us a few words.”

Misha tried to control her temper. She had a few choice words for him. The church may not be the appropriate venue for them, however. Bishop wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. He stretched out his hand toward the sacred desk and offered her the microphone.

Misha took a deep breath. She tried to get focused as she watched the congregation return to their seats. Suddenly, the door opened and in stepped Matthew, Courtney, her parents, in-laws and a few other extended family members.

Immediately her anger left her. Why was she angry anyway? She knew exactly how Bishop was before she walked into the church this morning. Nothing he said or did should have surprised her. She smiled as Matthew waved to her.

Bishop Moore joined Misha and took the microphone.

“I see Pastor Bernard Taylor just walked into the church. Please, Pastor Taylor, come join us in the pulpit.” A loud rumble went through the church. Matthew handed Courtney to his mother. The congregation clapped as he walked toward the pulpit. Bishop continued. “Ushers, we have some seats here on the front. Please escort Pastor Taylor’s family up here.”

Bernard entered the pulpit and shook everyone’s hand before greeting Misha with a kiss on the lips. He stood beside her as she approached the podium.

“Well, I didn’t expect my husband and family to be here this morning.” She took a quick breath trying to organize her thoughts. “It has been said this morning I’m the prodigal daughter. I don’t agree with that comment. You see, prodigal means wasteful. Nothing has been wasteful about my life since I left this church. I have a beautiful family and a successful ministry. I have trusting and loving friends I can depend on and an extended family that supports me. However, sometimes, in order for some of us to move forward, we must first reconcile with our past. That’s why I’m here today.”

Misha turned toward Bishop. “Bishop, I want to say I love you. You taught me a lot while I was here, and even after I left. I have grown tremendously. I thank God for you. If I said or did anything to offend or bring harm to you or your ministry, please forgive me.” Next, Misha directed her attention to the first lady. “First Lady Moore, I love you, and I hope when I’m your age, I can still look as good as you.”

Next, Misha addressed the congregation. “Although it’s exciting to be back, my stay is brief. You see, I must move on. God has placed me in ministry with my husband in Washington, D.C. We have a great work there. We must be committed to working in the vineyard we have been assigned to. I just stopped by to tell you thank you for everything, and I love you with all my heart. May the peace of God be with you all,” Misha concluded her comments. She looked out at the congregation, her past and future reconciling in the same place and time, as if God was saying now she could move on. When she left there today, she could truly leave her past behind and walk out into her future.