My debut novel HOOD RICH is the veiled story of my life and ultimate redemption. Every character in this story represented a piece of myself on a subjective level, unimaginable to the reader. When I wrote this story I was going through my personal hell. This was my HEROs Journey. This story was totally contrary to what those that knew me expcted. LOL :-) I AM UNIQUA WILLIAMS! CHAPTER 10 Sunday Service The following morning, Uniqua was bright-eyed and full of the Holy Spirit as she sat on the glossy, walnut-stained pews in the church. She was hypnotized as she gazed up at the large mural of a European Christ that was painted onto the rear wall of the church, overlooking the preachers pulpit. Uniqua felt strangely disembodied as she stared up into the depths of Christs grief-filled blue eyes with his blond hair and loving outstretched arms. She wondered to herself, How come Christ looks so sad? Is it because of the injustices that Whites have done to Blacks over the years? Or is he so sad because of the injustices that Blacks are presently doing to themselves? Around her, the church was rocking. The all-Black congregation was joyfully swaying from side to side, stomping and clapping their hands in rhythm to the soul-stirring sound of the Gospel song coming from the choir. Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King! Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King! Hallelujah, Hallelujah, We are going to see the King… Pastor Nelson humbly approached the pulpit. She poured a glass of water into her cup and took a sip. Her face beamed with good cheer as she stared adoringly out at the congregation. Gawd is good, she jubilantly shouted while cupping her right hand up to her ear. All the time, replied the congregation in unison. I woke up this morning and I had something troubling me deep downnnn in the abyss of my soul. And I fell down on my knees and I cried out to the Lord. My Gawddd, My Gawd, why are these young Black men, huh! And young Black women, huh! Suffering like this? And I heard a voice deep down in my spirit. But y’all aint hearing me this morning! I said I heard a voice! The most beautiful voice. A voice that spoke with the authority of thunder yet was as soothing to my soul as a gentle breeze. And the voice hearkened unto my cries and said unto me, ‘My people are perishing from a lack of knowledge. They have forgotten who they are, huh! They have forgotten where they have been, huh! And they dont know where theyre going.’ Somebody say amennnn? I say somebody say Amen! The piano player hit a couple of exhilarating notes and the church was roused into Holy frenzy. The temperature in the church was up hotter than the dog days of summer. The congregation was flapping cardboard fans harder than a newborn butterfly flapping his wings in early spring. Several cries of Amen! and Hallelujah! echoed loudly throughout the church. Nyshawn and her children were silently escorted over to their seat next to Uniqua and Mrs. .Gladys by an elderly usher. Pastor Nelson opened her Bible to Luke, chapter sixteen, the thirteenth verse. Silence was once again in the church as all eyes were on Pastor Nelson. They looked on with reverence and complete attention. “No servant can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money, preached Pastor Nelson as her eyes scanned freely up and down the pews and into the eyes of her flock. She locked eyes with Uniqua as she continued to deliver her Sunday morning sermon. See, Gawddd did not say that his people are perishing from a lack of money. He said that his people are perishing from a lack of knowledge. Now can I get a witness up in this church this morning? Amen Sister. Preach, shouted one middle-aged man. An elderly woman near the front cried out, Hallelujah, praise Him! See, my people, Black people have been bamboozled into believing that money is Gawd. See, the American dollar has somehow become the Black peoples’ Savior! Pastor Nelson shouted into the microphone as her body jerked with the Holy Spirit. But, Im here to tell you this morning, that the Devil is a liar. In Gawd… I say, in Gawd we shall place our trust. His rod and His staff shall comfort us as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Well, shouted one of the elderly deacons sitting in the front row. Amen! Pastor, preach. Lord have mercy on our children! shouted a mother in the rear of the church whose son was murdered in a drug deal gone bad. Pastor Nelsons eyes brimmed with tears and her voice became high and hysterical with grief. Take heed to the words that are coming out of my mouth this morning. The love of money is the root of all evil, said Pastor Nelson compassionately as she stared solemnly out into the faces of her congregation. The pianist hit an energetic note on the piano and the sound immediately ignited the choir into a soul-stirring rendition of Gospel legend, Mahalia Jacksons song, I Know Ive Been Changed. Pastor Nelson had blessed the congregation with her heartfelt words of inspiration and her congregations appreciation was reflected by the over-abundant stack of bills going into the collection plate being passed down the pews by the ushers.
Posted on: Sun, 03 Nov 2013 16:39:31 +0000
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