“There are no accidents; there is only some purpose that we have yet to understand.”
Deepak Chopra
“Holy Rock, let’s give God some praise this morning.” Khalil waded across the purple-carpeted floor where the podium once stood like he’d been preaching for years. He had the podium removed and opted for a more casual delivery that complimented his style of dress. He’d seen numerous preachers, especially the younger ones, delivering their sermons in jeans, button down shirts or polos and loafers, so he felt more than comfortable doing the same rather than wearing a stuffy suit. Initially, he had chosen to wear the traditional suit and tie, but at the last minute, and after one of his before church service rendezvous with Detria, he changed his mind.
His message was just as smooth and together as he was. His voice was strong but inviting and his swagger was on point. His melanin skin and glistening white teeth matched his perfect manly physique. With every word, every movement, he seemed to hypnotize the congregation gathered to hear his second sermon. The message he delivered the previous Sunday was a hit because he received numerous phone calls and emails afterwards. The church phone lines were on fire just like Khalil.
It’s been a rough week as I’m sure most of you have heard. My little brother was in a serious car accident. He has a fractured left arm and some internal and external bruising, but God is good; he’s going to be okay. His best friend and passenger, however, has a long road ahead of him. He’s paralyzed from the neck down, but again God is good and there’s nothing too hard for Him.”
The crowd began to clap and the voices of the people rang out with praise. Some of them stood on their feet like they were at a rap concert.
“I’m asking you to keep Raymone Sanders in your prayers. Lift him up before God on a daily basis. Let’s unite and believe that God will heal him and perform a miracle in his life. I also ask that you pray for my brother. He’s having a hard time dealing with what’s happened. He’s blaming himself for his friend’s condition. Any of you who know Xavier and Raymone, you know they are inseparable.
Khalil listened to the words he was saying. If they only knew just how inseparable. “Xavier’s mental state right now is fragile, to say the least, and so is Raymone’s. But God’s word says that we are to rejoice in hope, be patient in affliction, be constant in prayer. He’s promised that when we call on Him, He will answer; He will be with us in trouble. We’ve gone through the flood, but even in that God promises that when we’re in over our head, He will be with us. When we’re in rough waters, we will not go down. When we’re between a rock and a hard place, it won’t be a dead end. Can I get an Amen and a hallelujah?”
The packed church was in an uproar shouting praises.
Khalil continued his message for the next twenty minutes. He preached the Word of God even more elegantly than Hezekiah. He left Holy Rock on fire.
Detria sat mid-way the large sanctuary with a huge smile plastered across her made up face. She hadn’t been inside Holy Rock since she lost her role as First Lady. Well, not in church service. She spent as much time as possible in Khalil’s office, much to the chagrin of that nosy witch, Sista Mavis. But Detria could care less. She was getting exactly what she wanted when it came to her relationship with Khalil.
He may not have said the words I love you, but she believed that it wasn’t too far off before she had him so far gone for her that he would be begging her to become his first lady. Initially, it had been difficult to show back up at Holy Rock but there were so many people who she didn’t know and who didn’t know her that she felt at ease. Of course, there were still many of the old members who remained at Holy Rock, including her parents. There were some who frowned at her and gave her unpleasant looks, but they didn’t pay her bills and whatever they had to say about her, she shook it off.
Watching and hearing Khalil preach reminded her of ex-lover, Hezekiah. She had never heard Hezekiah preach in person, but she had watched a number of his church services on live stream. He could deliver the Word, that much was for sure, but still no one was better than Stiles when it came to holding an audience captive. Yet, Khalil was pushing close to beating Stiles out.
She hadn’t seen or heard from Hezekiah since his stroke. She was the one who called 9-1-1 that night. They had just finished making love. It was one of the scariest nights of her life other than when she had the fatal accident involving her baby girl. She hoped that Hezekiah was doing better, but she doubted that he was because knowing him the way that she did, there was no doubt that he would have returned to Holy Rock by now if he was in any way able to do so. She didn’t ask Khalil about him because she didn’t want to stir up mess. Talking about his father was a sensitive subject for him.
The last she’d heard and that was from nosy, gossiping Sista Mavis, Hezekiah was in a nursing home. Sista Mavis hadn’t told her that, but on one of her pop up visits to see Khalil, she heard Sista Mavis talking about it to someone on the phone. How could Fancy McCoy do such a thing? She should have had plenty of money to take care of him and Detria was certain that Holy Rock was going to take care of him; they practically worshipped the ground the man walked on. Some wife Fancy was. Had that been her man, her husband, or whatever, there was no way Detria would ship him off somewhere, especially to a nursing home and rehab facility. Those places could be horrific and most of the staff didn’t give a rat’s behind about the patients. Some kind of wife Fancy was and she had the nerve to turn her nose up at Detria.
Detria departed Holy Rock after standing in the long line to shake hands and greet the pastor at the end of the second church service. When it was her turn to shake Khalil’s hand, he extended it out towards her but to keep from using her one good arm and hand she leaned in and hugged him with her good arm instead.
Khalil inhaled her sweet fragrance. Whatever the fragrance Dee wore, it drove him wild. It was like a magic love potion; it was just that exotic and captivating. He returned her hug but made it sweet and short so as not to get anyone suspicious.
Sista Mavis stood a few feet away watching the whole ungodly scene. She was no dummy; she knew there was something going on between that slut, Detria Graham and the young, naïve Khalil McCoy.
“Look at her,” Sista Mavis leaned in and whispered in the ear of her good friend, Sista Regina. She and Sista Regina had been attending Holy Rock for at least fifteen years so they’d seen a lot of changes at the church. “How she mess around with a child? Doesn’t that woman have morals at all?”
“You know she don’t. She was messing with the building engineer, got knocked up with his child, so what makes you think she would have scruples now?” Sista Regina whispered back.
They stood in the cut and watched the scene playing out before their eyes and then followed Detria with their cutting eyes until she moved away from Pastor Khalil and exited the church.
“Humph, hope she has no intent of coming back to Holy Rock on a permanent basis. We’ve had enough drama around here to last a lifetime.”
“You sho right, girl,” said Sista Regina to Sista Mavis. “You sho right.”
The two women moved up in the line until each one of them had their turn shaking the young pastor’s hand and complimenting him on delivering a powerful message.