Reason And A Season

Have you ever taken a moment to look at your life and believe in your heart that all the pieces to the puzzle were finally falling into place? Have you ever found yourself wanting something for the first time that was never a priority for one reason or another in the past, only to have something beyond your control strip it all away? What about feeling as though you were to blame or you could have done something differently to make that thing a reality instead of recognizing that God does everything for a reason and a season?  It's never a settling feeling when you are forced to accept the difficult changes in life.  However, what’s important is not allowing traumatic experiences to consume you.  You have to recognize that all things will come in time, not my time or yours, but in God’s time.  He is definitely at the wheel.

Children and family were always at the top of our discussions.  I never really wanted to get married or have kids before this relationship.  I was always the traveler, or the independent, working woman.  Never having many positive examples of “the happy family” to go off of, I just didn’t see that in my future.  I was never the girl to buy bridal catalogues, plan my wedding before even meeting the guy, or map out how many kids I was going to have.  In my mind it was all too much drama, and I wouldn’t be missing much if I passed on it all.  Secretly I knew that the right man, the “man of my dreams” could change my mind on all of that.  However, I just wasn’t meeting him.  He was evading me.  Until this man entered my life one day, I was perfectly satisfied putting a marriage and family out of my mind.

It started as a friendship.  Good talks and hang out sessions were so important at that time.  He was going through some things and I split my time between work and home.  When things took a turn toward us having more than a friendship, I was surprised.  However, I thought it would be nice to have someone there on the regular and not have to spend my days and nights alone.  Our relationship consumed me.  I was so wrapped up in what I thought we shared that I couldn't see it for what it really was; too good to be true.  He wanted to have another child, a girl.  He already had two boys of his own and one that he raised like his own.  I wanted so badly to make his dream of having that little girl happen.  I put aside all my previous hang-ups.  I considered my age, health issues, things I had discussed with my doctors, and it seemed like a good idea.  We didn't plan to get pregnant.  However, we didn't do much to protect ourselves should that have occurred.  The question of my wanting to give him a little girl became a part of our banter during escapes.  I can't think of a time when it wasn't mentioned because it seemed to be common discussion.  I cared enough, loved him enough, wanted to share enough of myself, and my life with him; so giving him a little girl would just add to the ball of emotions I was feeling. 

I feared telling him.  I didn't want to alarm him unless I needed to, so I didn't mention taking the pregnancy test.  However, it had come up in conversation before because I hadn't been feeling well.  He asked if I thought I could be pregnant and I thought he was crazy.  I think in the back of my mind, I needed to be sure because if I wasn't, there was something else going on with my health.  I used the bathroom before him, took the test, and waited for the results.  He went into the bathroom after me.  He was sitting in there when I showed him the stick and its results telling him I was pregnant.  I believe his response was something simple like, "Well, ok.  At least now you know."  I told him that I would only be able to know for sure once I went to the doctor and did an official test.  My visit to the doctor proved the pregnancy test was correct and based on my missed period; I would deliver the baby some time in February.  After finding that out, we realized that I must have gotten pregnant during our trip to Antigua and St. Kitts/Nevis.

We shared the news with our families and I told a couple of my close friends.  We even came up with names.  A names for the first name and L names for the middle name.  I believed he was truly excited about the baby; I wanted to believe.  He would lay on my stomach and listen for a heart beat sometimes calling the baby by the girl name that we decided on.  He even wanted to go shopping for things.  Funny enough, I wasn’t excited about the shopping.  I thought it was premature for some reason.  I’ve never known too many people to start shopping in the first trimester.  It just felt wrong to me for some reason.  Although I had made the decision to become a parent and have his child, I had to remember that we were not husband and wife.  He was still trying to wrap up his last relationship, and we were not married.  My reality was that at the end of the day, I was going to be a single parent.

         We went on vacation with his family at the beginning of the summer.  While on the trip, we enjoyed a few activities, and events.  I didn’t think I was doing anything too strenuous.  The doctor told me that it was common for some women to have cramping and spotting because the body is still being adjusted to being pregnant.  When I started spotting and cramping on the trip, something just felt wrong.  I didn’t think that was supposed to be happening.  His mom told me to rest, so I spent an entire day just lying down while everyone else went out and about.  That evening when we went to sleep, I had what I thought was a dream but when I woke up it felt so real.  I was laying there, when this dark figure floated over me.  It pulled something from me.  When it left me it was sudden. I was filled with this feeling of emptiness, and I had goose bumps all over.  I remember hearing a noise like when something moves really fast in the wind, like swoosh.  I didn’t want to panic.  However, I woke him and asked him to listen for the heart beat like he always did.  When he put his head on my stomach I noticed a strange look on his face.  However, his words were simple.  He told me not to worry, when we got back we would go to the doctor and check everything out. 

The 4th of July will forever be a day of loss for me.  We got back from our trip on the 4^th of July.  We went to my uncle’s house and had a small barbecue with our families.  His mom, sisters, and stepfather met my mom, aunts, and uncle.  We didn’t mention anything to them about the dream I had or going to get checked out.  I didn’t see the point in alarming everyone if nothing was wrong.  In truth my dream was unsettling and haunting me.  I needed answers.  We decided to head back to my house but to stop at the emergency room on the way.  The doctor did an ultrasound that seemed to take forever.  The last ultrasound I had, the nurse let me hear the heartbeat and I had realized that I was carrying a life inside of me.  This time they didn’t find a heartbeat.  He said that I had miscarried.  It had only been 10 weeks but because of my medical issues, my stomach looked as if I was about 16 weeks.  I tried so hard not to let the tears fall while speaking to the doctor.  However, as soon as he left the room I broke down.  And although this man stood next to me and held my hand for the results, I somehow still felt as if he was absent from the experience.  I don’t believe I ever saw him cry for the child he talked to, and listened to through my stomach, or would never get to meet.  My mother had been waiting in the sitting area and when I told her, she didn’t really have much to say.  I mean does anyone ever know what to say in a situation such as this one?  Even in her silence, I was still at peace knowing she was around.  I listened to him tell my mother that we would wait till we were married next time.  That discussion was crazy in itself because it wasn’t one that we had first. 

Despite the fact that I was still bleeding very heavily and cramping like crazy, he wanted to run around and get some things done.  He wouldn’t be satisfied if I said I wanted to stay home so, my mom and I went with him.  We had been communicating with a lady at the local pet store.  She had an English Bulldog that she was holding for him to pick up.  We went to the store to get the puppy.  Honestly, it was the best distraction.  He named the dog after his favorite fruit, mango.  I held on to that dog for dear life.  I think he knew I was going through something.  He cuddled up on my baby bump.  He was 10weeks old when we got him and I lost our baby at 10 weeks.  Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it wasn’t.  

Next we went to look at the house that he had been having built.  There were still things that needed to be arranged and ordered.  I helped him pick out everything from the grout between the tiles to the back splash on the kitchen wall.  We had already picked out most of the furniture before our trip, so there were just a few finishing touches.  He had been working on this house for a few months and picking out the essentials was at times a stressful process.  I was there to relieve some of his stress.  I offered opinions. When he didn’t want to or was overwhelmed, I made selections.  You would think I had a stake in this place and I was going to be living there or something.  It was truly something to distract us from all that was going on with me.  We went shopping for area rugs and picked out two very nice ones.  When we went back to my house, he played with his puppy until they both passed out on the floor next to each other.  I spent most of my time in bed because I was still cramping and bleeding.  We talked a bit.  He reminded me that everything happens for a reason.  At the time, I couldn’t understand or see what the reason for taking my baby would be.  I felt like a chunk of my heart was missing.  I didn’t know how I was going to fill the hole.   The next day we drove my mom back home.  She had the puppy in a bag in the back seat.  She isn't really a dog person but I could tell she loved Mango already.

When we returned to my house I was sitting on the couch and suddenly  felt as if a cup full of fluid was pouring out of me.  I got up and rushed to the bathroom.  I believe that to be when my baby actually passed out of me.  I sat there in tears thinking of how awful it must be to get flushed down the toilet no matter how small.  I decided to take a shower.  While standing in the shower I got light headed.  It forced me to sit down.  Unfortunately, it made me cry even more watching the stream of blood mixed with the water from the shower.  I couldn’t stand.  All the energy had left my body and I didn’t want to do anything but sit in the shower in tears.  He came into the shower and found me there.  I explained what had happened but again I felt as if he was just going through the motions and couldn’t relate.  He picked me up and helped me to finish my shower.  I got out, got dressed, and went to bed crying myself to sleep. 

As the time went on, our days were filled with new house issues, new puppy issues, and any and everything that wasn’t about losing the baby.  If ever it came up, he would ask if I wanted to do something, or have a service.  I didn’t see the point in that because there was no body, and what was left had been flushed.  I was angry.  I was angry because I felt like he would never know what it was like to have this happen to my body, and then have someone asking me to focus on all these other things.  I was angry because suddenly I was realizing that this was probably a relief for him.  He said that he prayed and asked God about it and God told him that I would have another child some day.  The thing about that is that after something like this, knowing that there is a possibility that it could happen again, knowing that I could love someone so much, that I’ve never even met, only to have them stripped away from me, was not something to motivate me to have another child.    

A few months had passed and nothing was really different for me.  I was still angry, confused, crying.  Only I was crying when he wasn’t looking because I didn’t want to spoil his new home experience and new puppy experience.  When he had to return to work, I stayed in the house and took care of Mango.  When he wanted to see us, I drove up to the area where he was and he would spend his down time with us.  When he got back, he went by the pet store one day and saw one of Mango’s brothers in the store.  He decided to buy him.  So now he had two puppies, and a new house to preoccupy his time.  I still didn’t see him cry until he had something he loved taken away from him.  He got injured at work and spent the first few days lying around.  One day he broke down crying saying that he now knew how I felt.  I didn’t think it was fair to compare losing a life to his being injured on the job. 

To get through this I just needed time.  I needed to remember that God has a plan for me and for one reason or another it didn’t include carrying the baby to full term.  Funny enough, I ended up falling ill several months later.  Be it genetics or a direct result of the pregnancy, I ended up with diabetes.  We lost our child on July 4^th 2010.  On July 4^th 2011 he called me on the phone to tell me he was engaged to another woman.  So you see, everything does happen for a reason.  I believe my pastor said one day, "There is a reason and a season for everything.  And when the reason is depleted, and the season is completed, you have to move on."  Move on is just what I did.

Roll of The Dice

The image comes to me

Like flash photography

His hands on my body

Click click, click click

Did I ask him to frisk me?

I consented to a kiss

Something sweet and innocent

What exactly did he hear?

I feel filthy

His hot breath in my ear

Whispering obscenities

My heart pounding with a thunderous roar

So loud that it could

Shatter my chest

Never knew I could cringe

At the sound of my own name

His fingers crawling under my shirt

On rout to my breast

I pull his hands away

And push as hard as I can

He’s pinning me to his mattress

It squeaks with every twist

I turn hoping to find some form of escape

I hear him panting

Hold me he says

Squeeze my ass

I tell him NO!

Don’t touch me

Get off me, get off me

My mind is running on fast forward

Oh gosh, what’s coming next?

How can I get away?

I have to breathe

I have to breathe

I can’t breathe

He’s still pinning me

Has he done this before?

The music is so loud

No one will hear me

Get off me

Stop

No, I have to come he says

Oh my gosh

Lord please help me

He is really going to do this

I’ve known him for years

How could

Why would

Did he just say he had to come?

Come where?

I will never let him cross the threshold

Of my temple

No matter how much kicking and pushing

Has to be done

Ok that’s it

He’s gonna get off of me

Stop!  Get off me!

GET THE HELL OFF ME!

Something came over me

This burst of strength

This force from within me

GOD listened when I pleaded with him

I pushed him with all my might

Grabbed my purse

And bolted down the stairs

Didn’t have time for

Niceties

No good byes or thank you for having us

My energy was focused on getting out of that house

Down the stairs past all the people

Dressed in their best summer white

Jamming to the latest hit played by the DJ

Through the double doors

Down the stoop and up the block to my car

I could hear him calling my name

Can’t let him catch up to me

Wish I could magically blink myself

Out of these heels and into my front seat

Yelling ahead at my sister and cousin

Get in the car

They appear puzzled by my pace and

The tone of desperation in my voice

They jump in the car and I snatch my keys

Out of my sister’s hands

I jump in the front seat

And tell them lock all the doors

Seconds pass and he appears

Pleading with me

Not to depart like this

Talk to him

Get out of the car

I’m not about to become a victim

Not yours or anyone else’s

So get gone

Get out of my way

And with my lead foot I stepped on that gas

And left him standing on the sideline

Probably wishing I wasn’t so strong

Or so fast in heels

Fall Back! (oldie but goodie)

I never claimed to be a reflection of perfection

So please don’t set out on a mission

To find fault with me

Don’t find reasons to discredit me

Edit my words and actions

To what you perceive them to be

Blame me when you find yourself

Falling too fast too soon

Singing that same tune bout

How the roles seem reversed

And in this relationship

I’m the one playing the dude

Assume not that all happenings

Are a direct result of my past experiences

I bounce back fast!

Believe me this

House of cards is not made of stone

There’s no super glue holding this structure together

Don’t get me wrong

I’m not light as a feather but

I go through ups and downs

I tear, bend, break, and crack

And at the end of the day

I stand on my own two feet

And put it all back

This wasn’t a misdeal or a gotcha gotcha

I laid it out straight for you

You were well informed

I dealt you the plain truth

I’ve been the only face card

In this deck for longer than I can recall

So yes, on occasion you will hit a brick wall

But even the highest and mightiest

Have been known to fall

I just choose to do it discretely

For only my eyes to see

So don’t be deceived by your

Notions that I am affected by nothing

That I feel nothing

Don’t poke and prod to generate a reaction

And pass judgment when it isn’t even a fraction

Of what you expected it to be

Don’t try to force me out

Of my comfort zone

Fill your mind with doubt

Constantly comparing your feelings to mine

I move at my own pace

I’m the winner of my own race

They say slow and steady always wins

And the prize is my heart

But if you aren’t ready to receive it

Fall back!

Let someone else take the lead

How Did I Get Here?

I’ve always had a thing for accents.  It might have started when I first came to this country.  I used to watch TV and pick up the accents so that I could get rid of mine.  It helped a lot because once I learned how to speak like an American, I didn’t have to perform for all those who would ask me to “talk like they do where you’re from,” or   “let me hear your accent!”  I never thought my love of accents would land me here.

He worked at the local video store.  I was looking for a movie. I can’t really remember which one at the moment.  However, I had to ask him for it because there weren’t any copies out.  I asked if anyone had returned a copy that they hadn’t put back on the shelf as yet.  Mid sentence I noticed the chestnut color of his eyes and almost lost track of what my point was.  When he opened his mouth to answer my question, I swear I heard music playing.  It was like someone planted a kiss on each of my ears and it sent tingles everywhere.   He spoke with a British accent.  I don’t know if black girls really blush, but I’m sure my face was the color of the reddest rose.  After that night, I spent more time in the video store than I did watching the videos I rented.  I would always say hello and give my brightest smile hoping that he would notice me.  I never thought flirting with the guy in the video store would get me here.

We started hanging out.  I would meet him when he got off work or when he had the day off.  We would watch movies at his house.  He lived on the other side of town so I would have to take the bus to get there.  He would meet me at the bus stop and we would walk to the house together.  When it was time for me to go home, he would walk me back to the bus.  He would also meet me when I got off work at the supermarket.  He liked to walk me home if I was working late.  I remember this one night in particular when we stayed on my side of town.  He was walking me home and it started to drizzle.  Normally I would rush to cover my hair or hurry in the house but with him, there was no reason for alarm.  I felt safe, and could care less about the expected rain that would follow the drizzle.  We stopped at the end of my block, under the streetlight.  I remember him seeming nervous for some reason.   And that’s when he asked me.  No one had ever taken the time to be nervous much less ask in such a sweet way.  He asked if I would consider being his girlfriend.  I didn’t even have to think about it.  I said yes.    Anyway, the rain started getting heavier and I looked up at the streetlight and saw the drops as they landed on my face.  When I looked back at him, he leaned in and kissed me.  All I could hear was rain and its musical sound landing on the ground and the leaves from the trees, and the roof tops of the houses.  Everything was magnified, including the tingles down my spine.  I never thought that kiss would get me here.

We went to my junior prom together.  It was weird.  None of the guys wanted to dance.  My girlfriends and I decided to take to the dance floor, while our dates stewed around the table.  When the DJ played Black Sheep’s “This or that”, we all started getting really low as the song said, “Engine, engine number nine, on the New York transit line...” As soon as they said, “pick it up, pick it up, pick it up,” we were up jumping up and down in our prom dresses.  We had to show our dates that it didn’t matter that they didn’t want to dance with us.  We were going to enjoy ourselves by any means necessary.  By the end of the night it didn’t even matter because it was junior prom and senior prom was the one that we really cared about.  We were all talking about what we were going to do after prom.  We rode in the car with my girlfriend Shay and her boyfriend Wynn.  They juggled ideas about what they were going to do.  I almost felt like a burden on them because they had to coordinate their plans around us.  I wasn’t sure of what they decided.  All I know is they ended up dropping us off at one of those highway motels.  They told us they would be back in a couple hours. Though my heart pounded extra fast, I got out the car and watched them drive away.  I never said stop or don’t leave.  I walked into the room knowing that I would be different when I walked out. The room had a huge bed and mirrors on the ceiling.  I’m not sure if I expected to ever end up here.

A few weeks later, I was really sick at school.  I asked to go to the bathroom, and before I could make it there, I threw up in the hallway.  It was really gross.  I think I threw up three times all in that one day.  I started to worry when one of my friends cracked a joke asking if I was pregnant.  Later I asked Shay to go with me to have a pregnancy test taken.  We went to the Planned Parenthood clinic.  Shay had agreed to go with me because she wanted to take a test too.  She had missed her period but for some reason didn’t seem as worried as I was.  We went into the back one at a time to take our tests.  Then we had to go back outside in the waiting area and sit patiently until they called our names.  We sat there trying to take our minds off the test results.  We cracked jokes about what our reactions would be if we both came up pregnant.  I even found myself comforting her at one point when she finally sounded like this was stressing her out.  The nurse called Shay to the back first.  It was like time froze for a few minutes.  We looked at each other and then she got up to go receive her sentencing.  When Shay returned she was all smiles.  She was fine.  The nurse told her that if she had changed her diet recently or been stressed out, it could prevent her period from coming at its expected time.  I was so happy for her. 

I started to think that maybe the same thing would apply for me.  When I heard the nurse call my name, I wasn’t as scared because of Shay’s results.  There was no way that I could be pregnant.  Things like that just didn't happen to me, until now.  Something was different when the nurse returned.  She seemed different somehow.  She asked me again about the date of my last period.  She had this wheel that had months and dates on it.  Then she dropped the bomb on me.  She said that based on the dates I had provided; I was between 6 or 7 weeks pregnant.  She asked me what I was thinking about doing.  I wasn’t thinking about anything.  I couldn’t even hear her anymore.  I was hearing all the things people would say about me.  I heard my family’s voices.  They never say anything good when it comes to this type of news.  I wanted to get out of there.  I needed to get myself out of this situation all together.  What was I going to do?

While all this was happening, his ex girlfriend was trying to work her way back into his good graces.  I didn’t know her, and she didn’t know me.  However, she would pass me on the street and give me strange looks or whispers when she was with her friends.  I didn’t know what to make of it until he told me who she was.  I hoped that by telling him I was pregnant, I wouldn’t send him running right back into her arms.  I must have had a sixth sense or something because that was exactly what happened.  Telling him I was pregnant felt like I was holding explosives in my hand and as soon as I let the words out, it would be like releasing the detonator.  I tried to tell him that I needed his support through this.  I needed it more than ever because I made the decision to get rid of the baby.  I was a junior in high school.  I had my whole future ahead of me.  I couldn’t get derailed.  Then it happened; the thing I never imagined.  The words that would crush my entire world, and break my heart to pieces came rolling off his tongue.  “How do I know it is mine? I don’t know who else you could be dealing with.”  I looked at him in silence for a long time because I wasn’t sure who was standing in front of me.  Was it the same guy I had been dealing with for months or was it some stranger?  Was it the same guy with the smooth dark chocolate colored skin, chestnut colored eyes, and the British accent, or was it the devil?   I couldn’t believe he had said that to me.  I didn’t even want to argue with him I just wanted to haul my behind out of there.  I made it home so fast that I don’t even remember which way I took to get there.  When I closed the door behind me I felt week.  My knees buckled under me and I slid down the door in tears.  I was always home alone during the day so I didn’t worry about anyone hearing me.  I was devastated and confused.  I just kept asking myself why this was happening to me.  What did I do wrong? Did I deserve this?  How did I get here?

He didn’t help me with anything.  He didn’t contribute at all.  I had to save all my money to pay for the procedure.  I had to borrow from one of my managers at the supermarket.  I promised I would pay it back by our next pay period.  I had to get my neighbor to drop me off at the clinic that morning.  He also promised to pick me back up.  As I walked through the doors I felt like I was dreaming.  This was all one ridiculous nightmare and it would all come to an end in a few short hours.  Shay didn’t even have my back through this.  Once she was in the clear and I wasn’t, she basically forgot all about the fact that we were supposed to be friends.  I walked in there alone.  I passed the people outside picketing with their signs and hand made posters.  It didn’t matter to me what they had to say because I was determined to complete this process.  I couldn’t help but think that alone would probably be the best place to be for a long while after this.    It might just ensure that I never end up in this predicament ever again.

They made me sit in room for a few minutes when they took me out of the waiting area.  I had to have some type of counseling session.  I don’t know how they figured five or ten minutes of counseling was going to do anything for the damage I was going to be dealing with after all of this.  While sitting in the room I got sick and they gave me a garbage can to throw up in.  I kept apologizing but they told me not to worry because it happens more often than not.  I guess I should have known that.  They put me in another room and told me to change out of all my clothes and put on the gown and bonnet that they provided.  When I was done they wheeled me into the operating room.  It was an all white room with bathroom tiled walls.  All the nurses and doctor already had masks on and gowns.  When I met the doctor, he seemed very cold.  Seemed like he was just thinking of me as a number because he would have several procedures to complete that day.  He told me to start counting back from 100.  I kept thinking, why 100? Why not from 20 or 50 or something smaller?  100, when I wake up this would be a distant memory. 99, thank God I didn’t have to involve my family in this. 98, they might have shipped me off somewhere like back in the days when girls got sent away until they delivered.  97, I’m feeling kind of sleepy. 96, can’t really count anymore.  95, they don’t play with these meds.

A nurse calling my name awakened me; telling me I had to get up.  The way she shook me was cold and mean.  It was as if they needed the bed so they were rushing me to get up out of it.  She asked who was picking me up.  I told her a friend.  She handed me the phone and told me to call my ride.  I called a couple times but He didn’t answer.  I told the nurse I got no answer.  She said they needed my ride to come get me and I couldn’t take a cab home.  I had to start calling all my friends that drove or had access to cars because I had no idea what happened to my neighbor.  I called Shay thinking that her boyfriend might be able to come and get me.  She made some calls but came up short.  She suggested I call our friend Harrison.  I called him, and he said he would come and get me.  I was relieved because I really felt like crap from the meds they knocked me out with.  My head was spinning really fast.  I had to sit down.  However, the nurse wouldn’t let me lay in the bed for a few more minutes.  I had to get dressed and wait in the waiting area for Harrison.  Harrison arrived about twenty minutes after I called him.  He was with his sister.  He told me that she works at the clinic but that day in particular had been her day off.  Without saying much, she sympathized with what I was going through.  She suggested that I have something to eat because it would help me come down off the medication and my body would feel better.  Although I didn’t want Harrison telling anyone what I had done that morning, I didn’t mind him bringing his sister.  We drove to IHop and had breakfast.  We talked but not about my procedure.  I didn’t feel like I was under a microscope at all.

A few weeks later, my mom asked me to go take some movies back to the video store.  Though I didn’t want to, I walked and prayed that I didn’t see him working.  I wasn’t so lucky.  He saw me and tried to chat me up.  He had the nerve to tell me that his ex girlfriend was telling him that the baby wasn’t his and that she knew I was seeing someone else.  He actually believed her.  He wanted to get back together.  Guess he thought that all would be forgiven.  I told him that us being back together would never happen.  I would never care about him in the same way.  He could never be trusted with my heart again.  Accidents do happen unfortunately but I wasn’t going to crash and burn by allowing him to get close to me again.  I explained to him that if it weren’t for some amazing friends in my life, I would have been stuck.  He didn’t support me through the process, he didn’t even contribute half of the cost.  I told him I was fine where he left me, alone.  I told him he could take his smooth dark chocolate colored skin, his chestnut colored eyes, and his British accent right back to his ex girlfriend.  Seemed to me that was the place where he wanted to be.  I wasn’t really sure how I got to this place, this point in my life, this test of strength, but I knew it wasn’t about him.  It stopped being about him when he decided to take another female’s word over mine.  I didn’t know how I got here but I knew I was walking away with my head held as high as I could possibly hold it.  I may never forget him or this point in my life but I wouldn’t let it make me bitter.  I wouldn’t let it consume me.  Getting here was no longer in question, moving on was.

Child of God

It was a weekly thing.  My mom said it would give me some responsibilities and work ethic for when I got older.  I was thinking it would give me a couple dollars in my pocket for when I go to the store to buy goodies.  I started out looking forward to Wednesdays.  My mom would go to her women’s meeting and I would go into the office and help clean and tidy it up.  I would wipe down shelves and the desk and sweep and mop the floor.  By the time I was done, you would smell the sweet hint of lavender and pine.  Considering how much I hated cleaning at home, I thought I did an excellent job.  When he saw my work, he would tell my mom, “Sista Smith, your daughter is a hard worker.  Thank you for allowing her to do the Lord’s work and help me out every week.“

He would tell me that I was one of God’s angels sent down from heaven, and I felt important.  He said that God had these angels in heaven but he had a few that he would send down to earth to do special jobs.  My helping to clean his office in the church every week was what God wanted me to do.  He asked me if I wanted to do more to please God and be on his good side.  I was thinking sure, because I could always use more dollars to buy my favorite sweets and who wouldn’t want to be on God’s good side? 

Normally he wouldn’t be in his office while I was cleaning but, about a month after I had been working for Pastor, he decided to stick around one Wednesday.  He sat behind his desk watching me climb the stepladder to wipe down the shelves.  It was kinda creepy.  I felt like I was being watched by one of those cat clocks with the eyes and tail that wag back and forth, watching every move I made in the room.  When it came time to clean his desk, I thought he would get up and move but he didn’t.  Well, he did for a second when he went to close and lock the door.  Then he walked back over and sat behind his desk. 

Pastor said “Nikki, I told you that God has special jobs for his angels on earth.  If you do what God asks of you, you will have a seat right next to him when you get to heaven.”  I was worried because I couldn’t think of what else he could possibly want me to clean in the office.  I was praying it wouldn’t be the windows because I hate doing those.

 

While trying to clean the desk off and organize his papers, I felt his hands on my waist.  He grabbed me and picked me up to sit on his lap.  He said, “You want to do God’s work don’t you?  You want a seat in heaven?”  I told him yes.  I knew I had done some bad things before and I didn’t want them to keep me out of heaven.  Like the time I kicked the ball and it hit Emelia Johnson in the face so hard her glasses broke.  I had even taken a pack of my brother’s Now N Laters, and hid them so he would never find them.  Then when I thought he forgot about them I mixed them in with my goodies so he would think they were mine.  He didn’t need more cavities anyway. 

Pastor said, “Good!”  He said, “I will show you how you can please me and God all at the same time.  And what I show you has to stay between us because God doesn’t like people telling everyone about the special jobs he has them doing.” I asked if I could tell my mom or my brother since they were family but he said no.  He said if I did, God would be very upset and he might do something to hurt one of the people I love.  I was 8 years old when I learned how to please Pastor and God using my hands.  He zipped down his pants and took my hand and placed it inside.  At first he moved my hand back and forth because I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do.  I wasn’t sure what was happening because he said I was pleasing him but he made these weird noises like I was doing something wrong.  After a few weeks, he didn’t have to hold my hand anymore.  I figured out everything I needed to do.  I was 10 years old when I learned to please pastor and God using my mouth.  By the time I was 12 I learned how to please him lying on my back.  I never told anyone anything because Pastor said I was doing what God wanted me to do.  I didn’t want him to hurt my family.  And like my mom said, it would give me some responsibility and work ethic for when I got older.