| 1.18.2007 |
| More Than Words Can Say |
It all came to me on the other day.
As I vacuumed, I pondered what I could say.
Anointed, powerful, a man and woman of God.
Those words fit them to a tee, but there are more words that I can say.
Prayerful, consecrated, fired up for the Lord.
We have Godly examples in front of us each day.
Kind compassionate, caring, those words fit for sure.
Loving, tender-hearted, and long suffering, more and more and more.
Confident, strong, and knowledgeable, those words fit too.
Smart, wise, and understanding, always knowing what to do.
I could go on for days and days and days.
Patient, thoughtful, and generous in so many ways.
Words keep coming to mind that paper will never hold.
Handsome, bold, beautiful, the Lord broke the mold.
Fashionable, stylish, sophisticated, debonair.
Somebody call a fashion magazine.
Happy, comical, and jovial,
All the time.
With them around,
There's no time to frown.
You all do so much for us,
More than words can say.
We could never repay you for all that you are to us.
As for now, we will do our best,
Until God gives you, your crowns.
Inspiration Behind More than Words Can SayLabels: 2003, Church, Emotions, Memories |
posted by Me @ 10:23 PM  |
|
|
|
|
| Mr. Preacher Man |
He came to our church and joined in the service.
But, it's what happened after church that made me nervous.
You know how mothers can be,
In reality, it's just more work for me.
She invited him over for a meal.
If my look could have killed.
He came to the house, sat and ate.
Why do preachers put so much food on their plates?
We retired to the "good" living room,
With clean carpet and all.
Can't you picture the lovely paintings on the wall?
I had to go to the living room too.
My father's only request,
"Impress the company, act like you have some sense."
The grown-ups talked of many things, unimpressed.
My time could have been better spent.
This man talked a little too much.
On and on,
I wish he'd hush.
The phone rang.
My father had his escape.
Then Mom left the room,
Much to my dismay.
Now what would I have to say to this man?
"Hey, hiya doing?
Can you do the latest dance?"
His start for the conversation...
"What did you get from the sermon?"
I did not have an explanation.
I hadn't paid attention in church.
I guess the consequences for having no answer was his majestic oration.
He stood up, with Bible in hand.
He read a scripture, this preacher man.
The text of his sermon was A Black Man Helped Jesus.
Hey wait a minute, that I didn't know.
He told the story of Simon of Cyrene.
And told how Simon helped our Holy King.
He told how he knew Simon was black.
His answer makes sense now that I think back.
Simon was from Cyrene, a place in the "black belt" of Africa.
His voice got high and he let out an "I, I, I, I, I."
(Ya'll didn't know I could do that did ya?)
He tug at his ear.
He paced the floor.
Preacher man was preaching and that's for sure.
To me, his lone trapped member.
But this sermon I would remember.
He told of how Jesus died on the cross.
So my little soul would not be lost.
He said that Jesus was the propitiation for my sins.
"Just open up your heart and let Him in!"
For some reason I was entranced.
It didn't even seem weird when he did a Holy dance.
He pulled at his tie, he clapped his hands.
Out of my mouth surprisingly came an "Amen."
He drew to a close about two times or four.
BUT he couldn't close without a story, just one more.
He told of African-American triumphs and how God made a way.
He said to remember God in this new day.
He declared that we should be proud of the Easter holiday.
Because a black man helped bear the sins of mankind on this eminent day.
He actually sang a song.
"Because He Lives," melodic, strong.
Did a tear really come from my eye?
Naw, it was a speck of dust that made me cry?
He left the living room and the house.
I went to my room.
I was quiet as a mouse.
I wiped the dust off the Holy Book.
I turned to the scripture I had heard,
To take a look.
At the Bible I stared, "Who was that man?"
I don't know his name,
So, I call him "Mr. Preacher Man."Labels: 2002, Church, Family, Memories |
| posted by Me @ 9:55 PM |
|
|
|
|
| Sunday Morning Service, Part Two |
Continued from Part One
"Are you ready for the choir?",
Asked Elder Jangleton as the musician
played some notes.
The directress took her place.
As the soloist cleared her throat.
"God is everything to me,"
From the choir as they rocked and clapped.
Liz sang a verse.
She asked the people to clap.
The song is over.
The audience gave its applause.
Then Ronnie took the mike
To sing "I Will Trust In The Lord."
Somebody said, "Hallelujah."
Somebody said, "Gone and sang."
Sis. Greer raised her hands.
Through the rafters Ronnie's voice rang.
Sabrina Ransom read the announcements.
So everyone could hear.
"Take heed accordingly."
Eeh Marlowe is playing with her ear.
Time for the welcome.
Here comes Cevelia Merchant down the aisle.
All the guests stand.
As she welcomes them with a smile.
"What time is it?"
"It's offering time."
"What time is it?"
"It's offering time."
Sister Quester officiates the offering
With her usual style and flair.
$100, $50, $20, 5.
People in the sanctuary stand,
everywhere.
The preacher stands
For the preached word.
Now I know she ain't nodding.
"Look at Mother Mattie Byrd."
He gives honor.
To whom honor is due.
He says a few other words.
Then his greetings are through.
He read his scripture.
Matthew 6:24-34.
He said, "I'd like to use for a subject
"Push Button Faith.".
A few people said, "Yes."
Somebody said, "Amen."
Sis. Barrea frowned at her kids.
And Missionary Turner raised her hand.
He talked for a few minutes,
About fast forward and rewind.
He told us some things.
To contemplate in our minds.
He went on a little while longer.
Then he began to tune up.
Before he got too happy,
He told the organist to catch up.
He said, "Uhh huh," and "Oo yea."
He said, "Lord, have mercy."
Bro. King stated, "Amen."
So did Deacon Percy.
He tugged his ear.
He waved his hand.
He said, "Push button religion."
Then I saw a few people stand.
We were having church.
And that was for sure.
He drew to a close about two times.
Maybe it was four.
He told one more story.
Then his voice began to slow.
He said a few more words.
Then, he let us go.
Outside in the vestibule
Things are in disarray.
Kids screaming for their mother.
And David looking for his Uncle Donald Ray.
Rabin walks by me.
I think I may just die.
He spoke to Sis. Myles.
Then he told me hi.
"Girl, you better bring your behind on!"
Lord, why is that boy talking so loud.
I grimace at my brother.
As I push through the crowd.
There stands Sis. Jenkins,
In her purple dress.
What is Minister Talton talking about?
I sure like his vest.
I hop in the car.
And wave at Bishop Pervis.
I can't wait until next time
For Sunday morning service.Labels: 2002, Church, Family, Life, Memories |
| posted by Me @ 3:10 PM |
|
|
|
|
| Sunday Morning Service |
"What a friend we have in Jesus,"
My brother songs in his usual off key tones.
"Lord, why must that boy always sings,"
My mother moans.
I look in the mirror,
As I continued to get dressed.
Today is the day,
The Lord will truly bless.
The breakfast of champions.
"Wheaties" of course.
My brother is still singing,
But now it sounds worse.
Dad makes a face.
Then he screams,
"Boy, be quiet,
Cause you can't even sing!"
My brother shrugs his shoulders,
Then walks off with a frown.
My mother goes and hugs him,
So, he won't feel down.
We grab bibles, purses,
And all else.
I had to go back,
To get Mom's keys off the shelf.
We arrive at the church,
Not a moment too late.
We missed early morning service.
It started at eight.
Sunday school is just beginning.
The Superintendent does his bit.
The classes are called to order.
And everyone sits.
Sis. Faye explains the lesson,
Showing her years of experience.
Then Jason asks a question.
The answer made sense.
Ester counted how many were there.
And took up the offering.
As Trina picked something out of Brandon's hair.
Sunday School is finally over.
We gather in the hall.
We talk. We laugh.
But mostly we hold up the wall.
We clown and we talk some more.
Deacon Chauncey yells,
"Ya'll are talking too loud!"
Sherron makes a face.
Herbert echoes, "Ya'll are talking too loud!"
I blink for a second.
Then I stare.
Uhm, my Lord.
Rabin looks good standing over there.
Wait a minute here.
Let me get my mind on track.
Out of the corner of my eye,
I see Rabin staring back.
We sing the morning hymn,
"I'll Fly Away."
Then Rev. Lester says, "Bow your heads,
Then, he prays.
He prayed for the nation.
And every man.
He prayed for healing
All over this land.
Elder Phillips read a scripture.
Verse by verse.
I saw Mama Narist
Put something in her purse.
Time for testimonies,
So the blessings people can tell.
The first person to testify
Was Minister Ray Shell.
Then came Missionary Stacy Bearse,
Energetic as ever.
She told the story of
How God saved her son Trevor.
Then she told another story.
She sure said a lot of words.
She ended enthusiastically,
"What a mighty God, I serve!"
Part TwoLabels: 2002, Church, Family, Life, Memories |
| posted by Me @ 3:09 PM |
|
|
|
|
| |
| Writing Blogs |
|
| NaNoWriMo Blogs |
|
| Personal Links |
|
| Shoutbox |
I am trying to write at least 1000 words a day. Right now, I am feeling so  ! I hope my current mood allows me to write. :) |
| Previous Post |
|
| Archives |
|
|
| LaDawnya's World |
|
| Friendship |
|
| NaNo Peops & Friends |
|
|
| LDsWorld Blogs |
|
|
Powered by |
   |
|
