Chapter Six
Sunday morning had come and gone. The anticipation of a great start to a promising group had been all Evangelist Kenya Clark had prayed for. Even members who hadn’t initially signed up for the class had shown up for the Sunday School gathering to see what it was all about. Church members she wouldn’t have ever fathomed having issues in their relationships had even added themselves to the medium-sized group, hoping for resolution.
Through all of that, accidentally meeting Mike had added a little hope to her plan of getting her loved ones off of her back. Mike’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect. She hated he had to be Deacon Morgan’s best friend, because she really did like the gentleman, but with so much going on in her own spiritual and emotional walk, Kenya needed time.
Sundays were always set aside for family. With her mother having passed away just a few short years ago, her older sister, Kendra, had become even closer to her than ever before. With almost a twenty-year difference between the two, Kenya had always looked up to her older sister, even though she had been ten years old before she met her.
For years Kendra had been estranged from their mother, Herlene. With Herlene having a drug and drinking addiction for years, there were disturbing times Kendra had gone through under her care. The little guidance and care sent Kendra into a downward spiral in life. Feeling that she never received love and never knew love, the older sister had inadvertently allowed life to beat her up.
Grasping on to drinking, partying, and premarital and promiscuous sex, it was only after she’d hit rock bottom, close to the age of thirty, that Herlene reappeared: saved, healthy, and wanting to be everything Kendra needed. And she was. And now Kendra was doing the same for Kenya, which was why she hated to ditch Sunday dinner plans.
With Kenya being single and always her own dinner date, Kendra and her husband, Bishop Ky Perry, made it a point to share their world with Kenya. Sundays were never an exception to the rule.
With an overwhelming feeling of her personal battles, Kenya really wanted to be able to spend a day doing nothing so that she could hear everything. It was the peace in God she was yet looking for, feeling she had become unworthy.
Kenya was still trying to gather all of her thoughts together. She figured the best way to do so was to spend as much time with the Lord, alone, as she could. Pushing away from her dining room table, Kenya took her dishes to the sink and slid them into the awaiting water. Usually she’d clean her kitchen immediately following dinner, but being ever so worn out from the day’s activities, Kenya opted to relax and free her mind instead. An advantage in living alone, Kenya was able to do her chores as she pleased.
With a flip of the switch, Kenya turned the kitchen light off and headed through the living area. The natural-colored family room was welcoming with smooth sounds of jazz floating out of her surround system her brother-in-law had finally gotten around to installing for her. Walking toward the master bedroom placed in the back of her three-bedroom, single-family dwelling, Kenya admired what she had accomplished.
Everything was cozy. Kenya opted for a suede/leather mixture of furniture that allowed for comfort in every welcoming spot throughout her home. The natural tones surrounding her constantly gave her the sense of not being alone when, in fact, she was 100 percent of the time.
Her hallway walls alone were filled with framed photos of her mission trips around the world. Her latest evangelistic excursion to Africa had been an adventure of a lifetime and there were pictures to prove it. Lives had been saved, children had been healed, and even monies were raised in order to help out villages. If only that had been all Kenya had brought back from the continent. The guilt traveled back as well.
Kenya removed the chopstick-style ornaments from her hair and allowed her tresses to unravel onto her shoulders. She had tried to forget as best she could the flesh-driven decision she had made when in what some called “The Mother Land.”
It wasn’t easy. Kenya had repented and asked God to renew the right spirit within her ... and she felt He had, but she still felt unworthy. All that was left was for Kenya to forgive herself, which wasn’t an easy thing to do. She no longer trusted herself and had even begun to doubt just who she was. Clarity was what Kenya hoped time alone with the Lord would give her.
She had tried her best to suppress her guilt and replace it with the elated spirits of the new group. In all actuality, Kenya couldn’t help but be happy with the new activities at the church. The divorce ministry had been placed in Kenya’s spirit after so many of her friends and God’s people had fallen victim to the family destroyer.
Having never been married, Kenya had wrestled with the decision to even bring the ministry to Pastor Peters. But after many restless and praying nights, she had no choice. She knew when people were taught and encouraged, they usually went back to teach and encourage others.
There were support groups for single people, hoping they’d get things right the first time when it came to marriage; married people, hoping they could work out their troubles; but for divorced people, there was nothing but for them to try it again and, the majority of the time, wind up with a replay of the first results.
Some argued being single and divorced could fall under the same category. Kenya heavily objected. Those who were single, having never married, had opportunities to try to perfect their dating and choosing skills. Those who were divorced could easily be discouraged, disgusted, with no hope for the opposite sex, being their experience didn’t succeed the first go-round. Mixing the two could confuse the parties involved.
Yet and still, there were those who objected to Kenya heading up the group, being that she was a single lady with no attachments. There was much doubt about what she would be able to teach. “No problem,” she had responded to Pastor Peters when he had passed on the word that other church members didn’t deem it appropriate for her to be over such a group.
“We will just need a saved and divorced man to partner with me,” she happily suggested. Kenya had no doubt in mind that the women of the group were behind her demise to single-handedly call the shots. With an unattached man as her partner, she knew things would change.
Kenya was all for it. It was best to have opinionated yet open-minded leaders in the group. And definitely one male and one female. Watching Deacon Keithe with her spiritual eye, Kenya was secure hearing God confirm he was the partner she needed for the group. With the meetings, brainstorming, and the Holy Spirit being evident in his walk, Kenya hadn’t thought twice about confirming the older and distinguished Deacon Keithe being the partner she needed.
“You may want to consider him as your partner on another level, too, Kenya,” Pastor Peters had said, chuckling. Kenya had only put a scowl on her face and walked away.
If it wasn’t her pastor, it was her sister, brother-in-law, her niece, or anyone else who wanted the best for her. And she wouldn’t even start with Pastor Peter’s mother, Mother Gladstone, wanting her to hurry, marry, and have little chocolate babies. There was no doubt Kenya wanted the same for herself. Her home was beautiful, but she was ready to share her life with someone who needed and wanted the same.
Kenya stood in front of her full-length mirror and disassembled her Sunday wear along with her jewelry. With her slip still on, Kenya walked over to her queen-sized bed and took a seat. Even with the joy in Kenya’s heart running rampant about the group and her being settled in her blessed life, she didn’t yet have the feel of completion.
It wasn’t that being complete and knowing God was all she needed, but completion as in a mate specifically made for her. That’s why if anyone was confused with the task she had on hand, being over a divorce group, it was her. But when God spoke to her heart, she knew she had to be obedient. There was so much she owed to God.
No one had to preach to her. They didn’t have to tell her that Jesus was enough. She knew it. One reason why she hadn’t shared her latest and greatest issue with anyone, not even her sister, was because she didn’t want to hear, “Jesus is enough.”
She didn’t need a cliché prayer. Kenya needed clarification about what had gone wrong in her own thinking. Hadn’t she been saved, sanctified, and filled with God’s Holy Spirit? Didn’t she believe God had her back and patience was what she needed? But the major question was, didn’t she know that God had indeed created her for a man and a man for her?
God had been her morning, noon, and night. He had been her breath of fresh air when she needed Him most, which was why her past year doing mission work in Africa left her confused about her actions.
She had crossed boundaries she never would have thought she would have crossed. Just the blessing to be able to travel to a place where so much history had begun ... Kenya had guilt all over her by her actions while there.
Kenya had led a lustful relationship she knew wasn’t of God while in Africa. Even if she tried, Kenya knew she couldn’t blame all of her sinful actions on the enemy. She knew it was wrong. The disgust she felt built in her loins let her know just that.
Crawling to the middle of her bed, Kenya pulled her hot pink blanket over the bottom part of her body. Hoping to get rest before evening service, in the back of her mind, all Kenya could think was how she no longer felt privileged. The call she had on her life reigned superior over whatever her flesh thought it wanted; nevertheless, she had taken a chance with her soul more than twice, and for that, Kenya felt God would strip her soul dry.
Closing her eyes and adjusting her pillow, Kenya prayed that all she had hoped for and was born for wouldn’t be lost because of her inability to control advances she never saw coming.