by Neta Jackson
Estelle nodded. “Good for you! Kids shouldn’t have everything just handed to them. Grace, would you pray for Michelle’s boys? I’ll pray for Grace and Jeff. And Michelle, maybe you could pray for my son, Leroy. He wasn’t doin’ so well when I visited him on Saturday, he’d gotten abusive with the staff at the home he’s in . . .”
The three women held hands again and prayed for the various requests. But something nagged at the back of Michelle’s mind as Grace prayed that Destin would find a summer job. Something wasn’t adding up . . .
“What do you think, sisters?” Estelle asked as they got ready to leave. “Could we maybe pray together for a half hour or so on Tuesday evenings on a regular basis? Seems like there’re so many things to pray about—and the Bible says that where two or three are gathered together, Jesus shows up!”
Both Grace and Michelle said they were willing to give it a try as they said their good-byes. Tuesdays might be good, Michelle thought, hurrying back home. She didn’t have anything regularly scheduled on Tuesday evenings and Jared was at work. And the prayer times so far had been comforting and meaningful.
Except for that nagging feeling in her gut about Destin looking for work. After calling out, “I’m home!” and peeking in on her offspring, Michelle stood in front of the kitchen calendar. School would be out a week from Friday. Tabby’s camp was the next week . . . and then Destin’s basketball camp started the following Wednesday.
She stared at the dates. June 30–July 3.
What employer would hire a kid who was going to take time off a week and a half later? And if Destin waited to start work till he got home from camp, he couldn’t start until after the Fourth of July weekend.
Had she and Jared even talked about this Catch-22? No, they’d just been ignoring the elephant in the middle of the room, putting the problem in Destin’s lap.
Chapter 24
Jared came home that night even later than usual. Michelle woke up and peered blearily at the orange numbers on the digital clock . . . 12:10. “Honey? Is everything okay?”
“Hey, Gumdrop,” he murmured, sitting on the bed to take off his shoes. “Sorry I’m late. One of the new guys finished his training tonight, and he was all hyped. His wife brought in a big cake, so I hung around the break room for a while. Didn’t call, was afraid you’d already be asleep.” He crawled into bed, sighing wearily. “Spitball can be a real goof-off—definitely earned his nickname. Acts like a sophomore sometimes.” Jared yawned. “Some of the guys were going out to party, but they usually drink themselves silly. Besides, I gotta start day shift tomorrow . . .”
He was asleep in two minutes.
And already gone back to work when she woke up the next morning.
Norma called her cell while she was driving to do a foster care home check, so Michelle sent it to voicemail and called back on her lunch break. “You going to be at prayer meeting tonight, Michelle?” her friend asked. “I finally got the leader kit for the women’s event this Saturday—has DVDs and study materials, all kinds of stuff. Thought I could hand it off to you tonight. I know it doesn’t give you much time to prepare for Saturday, but it just arrived yesterday. Duh, should’ve just had the stuff sent directly to your house.”
“Uh . . .” With everything that had been happening lately, she really hadn’t been thinking about having to prepare for the women’s event on Saturday. Michelle was tempted to ask Norma if she would take charge of introducing the video series and guiding the first discussion. But . . . what was wrong with her? She was head of the women’s ministry at Northside Baptist, for goodness’ sake! The rest of the committee had stepped up and done their part. She needed to do hers. “Sure. I’ll be there. Thanks, Norma.”
Filling out her reports for the past three days made Michelle late getting out the door after work, so she swung by Boston Market on the way home and picked up their Family Meal, which included a rotisserie chicken, cornbread, and several sides. Lukewarm by the time she got home at six, but no one complained, and at least she had time to sit down for half an hour with her husband and the kids before she and Jared drove to the church for the seven o’clock prayer meeting.
Seemed like there was something she’d wanted to talk to Jared about, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember what. He seemed pensive too, as if his mind was elsewhere. “You’re awfully quiet,” she told him, after riding in silence most of the way. “You sure everything’s okay?”
“Huh? . . . Oh, sorry, hon. Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Just thinking about this seminary thing. I went online today after work to see what was available. There might be several possibilities . . . North Park Seminary, for one. Not too far. And of course there’s Moody downtown. They’ve got night classes, also an online course.”
Seminary! “So you’re really thinking about it?”
“Well, yeah. Thinking about it. Figured we wouldn’t know how to make a decision unless we put the facts on the table.”
Michelle was quiet. She didn’t want to be a wet blanket, but . . . seminary? It boggled her mind.
Jared glanced at her. “So what are you thinking? Think it’s a dumb idea?”
“No, no . . . not dumb!” Her heart suddenly went out to her husband. He’d given a great sermon on Memorial Day weekend, which she hadn’t even been there to hear, and now the pastor wanted to encourage his gift. “Not dumb at all. I . . . I just don’t know how to think about it. Given, you know, everything else.”
“I know.”
Michelle laid a hand on his arm. “Well, we haven’t really prayed about it yet. At least not together. God will make it clear.” She said it with more confidence than she felt.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
As they came into the church, Norma was waiting for her in the foyer with a box labeled Discerning the Voice of God—Leader Kit. “Here you go. Want to check it out, see if everything’s there and what else we might need?”
Telling Jared she’d be back in a few minutes, Michelle headed downstairs with Norma to the fellowship hall, and together they looked through the materials, reading the summaries of the DVDs, and going over the discussion questions. “Looks good,” Michelle murmured. Really good. She could use some fresh encouragement in discerning God’s voice from all the other competing voices in her head. “But did we ask anyone yet to set up the DVD player down here?” She started to jot notes. They needed chairs set up Saturday morning . . . extra paper and pencils . . . and coffee, tea, and snacks, of course.
By the time she and Norma returned to the sanctuary, the prayer time had already started with groups of four or five meeting here and there in the pews. Michelle slipped into a pew at the back joining a group of four, making it five. Deacon Martin, a rather verbose man with nubby gray hair and large black-framed glasses, was praying for all the requests in a deep “prayer voice” full of thees and thous—Mother Willa’s arthritis, peace in the city as schools let out next week, jobs for those in the church who were unemployed, somebody’s grandson (unnamed) who was “far away from God” . . .
“Are there any other requests?” he asked after a rather long silence.
No one spoke. Michelle definitely had things on her heart that needed prayer—the sticky question about whether Jared should go to seminary . . . Ramona’s safety at the shelter now that her drug-dealer “boyfriend” was out on bail . . . a summer job for Destin that would let him take off for basketball camp after a week . . . Tavis and whoever he was fighting with at school . . . the general exhaustion she felt, which wasn’t as exciting and specific as cancer or a broken leg—but she couldn’t imagine blurting out any of those concerns in this setting. What Estelle had said once was true—all too often prayer requests seemed to become “holy gossip” at church. She didn’t know these people that well, in spite of sitting in Sunday services together for years and giving “Sunday hugs” and greetings. And right now her concerns felt too personal, too intimate, and perhaps too trivial to other people.
But feeling a bit gui
lty at the long silence, she spoke up. “Um, the women’s ministry could use prayer. We’re beginning a new series this weekend . . .” As Deacon Martin asked a woman whose name Michelle had forgotten to pray for God’s blessing on the women’s ministry, she felt a surge of gratefulness for Estelle’s invitation to join her and Grace to pray on Tuesdays.
She needed praying sisters she could trust. She needed more prayer, period.
* * *
Michelle dropped by the Blackwells’ apartment building again on Thursday. Again no answer to the buzzer. Drat it all. Should she go back this evening? No . . . this was the first evening all week Jared didn’t have to rush off to something—at least not until nine, when he had to leave for his night shift at the tower. And she really needed to wrap up last-minute details for the first session of the video series they were going to begin on Saturday—not to mention getting herself emotionally prepared for the Hope and Healing group memorial service Saturday afternoon. And she usually gave a small gift to each participant afterward, a small memento of their time together.
Thinking of the memorial service, should she invite Grace to attend? It would give her an idea of what the group was about . . . No, no, what was she thinking! Even though family and friends of the group members were invited, the memorial service wasn’t open to the public. It wouldn’t be fair to the women in the current group. She could talk to Grace a bit more when they got together next Tuesday evening, give her an idea what to expect. But the upcoming memorial service was another thing she could use prayer for. She’d call Estelle Bentley this evening.
When Michelle got off the phone with Estelle that evening, she heard raised voices from the basement family room. “Dad, I’m on it! I’m doin’ the best I can!”
“Have you called back? You gotta keep your name in front of the employers, let ’em know you’re serious.”
“Well, no, didn’t know I was s’posed ta—”
“Are you keeping a list of the places where you submitted applications?”
“Uh, not really, but—”
“Destin! This isn’t a game! You owe us four-fifty for this Five-Star Basketball Camp—and college is just around the corner. We started that college fund for you at the bank, and you’re supposed to be adding to it too.”
“Okay, okay! I’ll make a list and call people back this weekend. Are we done now? I’m right in the middle of this video ga—”
“You’re done now, buster! Shut that thing off. Now. Get started on that list.” Two heartbeats later Jared came huffing up the stairs, his face a storm cloud. “Kid doesn’t have the vaguest idea what it takes to get a job these days,” he muttered at Michelle, as he passed through the dining area. “Hmph. Video game . . .”
Michelle watched as her husband disappeared into the living room. That was the trouble with Thursday nights. Jared was short on sleep, had probably only snatched a two-hour nap between getting home at three and getting up for supper. She glanced at the clock. Eight already. He’d be leaving in an hour for his night shift. She sighed. Had she even told him her schedule for this Saturday?
Maybe she should start the laundry since the weekend would be so full.
She was downstairs stuffing dirty clothes into the washing machine when the phone rang. A moment later Tabby ran down to the landing and yelled into the basement. “Mom! Mrs. Singer wants to know if I can babysit tomorrow after school. She wants to run some errands or something.”
Michelle came to the bottom of the stairs. “Well, sure.” She smiled up at her daughter. “Guess they like you. Just get her cell phone number or something so you can call her if you need to.”
Tabby dashed away. Michelle shook her head and went back to the laundry. If only getting a job was that easy for Destin.
* * *
Michelle only had time to say hi and good-bye to Jared when he got home from his night shift the next morning. Waiting until she was pretty sure he’d caught up on his sleep during the day, she finally called him about four o’clock that afternoon. He sounded awake when he answered.
“Jared. I think we ought to take the kids to a movie tonight. Or go bowling. Do something together, the whole family.”
“Ugh, not bowling. Maybe tomorrow night. I’m still too tired from my night shift.”
“Well, a movie then. All you have to do is sit down.”
“And pay for the popcorn.” She heard him chuckle a bit.
“That’s what dads are for, right?” She laughed. “So we’re good? You and the kids want to pick a movie?”
“Nobody’s around. Tabby went babysitting down at the Singers, Destin is supposedly out job hunting, and Tavis . . . hm, where is Tavis? Oh yeah. I think he’s over at the Bentleys playing with DaShawn.”
“Okay. Well, would you order some pizza? I’ll try to be home by five thirty so we can eat and see the early show.”
Only Tavis and Jared were in the house when Michelle walked in the door, but Destin came in from the garage shortly after six, and Tabby ran in the front door at six fifteen. But by then supper was hurry-scurry because they had to leave by six thirty to get to the seven o’clock showing of The Karate Kid, which had just come out that week. Wouldn’t have been Michelle’s top pick, but the kids were definitely outgrowing most of the animated family movies they used to watch.
“Can I drive?” Destin made a beeline for the minivan as Michelle herded them out the door.
“Dad, nooo! He’ll make us late!” Tabby protested.
“Will not. I’ll drive fast, twerp.”
“Then we’ll get in a wreck! Dad, pleeease, you drive.”
“I’ll drive.” Michelle rolled her eyes. This was supposed to be a stress-free evening. “You can practice driving with your dad another time.”
“Huh. Good luck with that,” Destin muttered, climbing into the back seat.
If Jared heard, he pretended not to notice.
* * *
“Thanks,” Michelle murmured to Jared as they walked into the house after the movie. “We needed that. Especially since I’ve got a full day tomorrow . . .” She ran down her list, including trying to contact the Blackwell family after the memorial service in the afternoon. “You?”
He shrugged. “Hoping to sleep in a bit tomorrow. It’s been a rough week at work. Summer flight schedules are stacking one on top of the other, so everyone’s a bit on edge. But can’t sleep too late, ’cause I gotta take the Nissan in for an oil change. Mostly trying to catch up on stuff at home.”
“Okay—though if you can squeeze it in, maybe you could give Destin some driving time?” She gave him a kiss on the cheek before he could protest. “Go on, go to bed. I’ll say goodnight to the kids.”
By the time Michelle switched laundry loads, turned on the dishwasher, and locked the doors front and back, Tabby was in bed, writing in her diary. Michelle sat on the corner of the bed and started rubbing her back. “How’d babysitting go this afternoon?”
Tabby put her diary down and turned full on her stomach to enjoy the back rub. “Good, I think. Mrs. Singer left in the car, but Mr. Singer was at home, which was kinda awkward—you know, babysitting with one of the parents around. But it was okay. He was busy in the living room—using it as his office, I think. But, Mom, I saw something kinda weird . . .” Tabby rolled over and half sat up. “Just before Mrs. Singer came home, I was out front playing hopscotch with the kids, and I think I saw Destin and Mr. Singer out by their garage. I mean, I only had a glimpse alongside the house, but it sure looked like Destin.”
Michelle frowned. Destin had come in just a few minutes after Tabby—had come in the back door, if she remembered right. Probably just putting his bike away. Even if Destin had stopped at the Singers’, it couldn’t have been long. “Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure it’s fine.”
She gave Tabby a kiss, turned out the light, and closed the door softly. Might not even have been her brother Tabby had seen. Even if it was, maybe Destin just wanted to borrow something. Or maybe Mr. Singer saw him
coming home on his bike and needed his help for a minute. After all, his own kids were a lot younger.
Well, she’d ask Destin about it just to be sure.
Chapter 25
Everybody slept in Saturday morning except Michelle. But the quiet house was a blessing as far as she was concerned. Time to go over the discussion guide once more for the first session of Discerning the Voice of God, as well as review the simple service she’d planned for the memorial service at Lifeline.
Just toast and tea again for breakfast . . . Was she that nervous about leading this first session for the Northside women? She didn’t think so, just didn’t feel like eating. Her morning appetite had been on the wane lately. But maybe she should take some yogurt and a granola bar along, just in case.
It wasn’t a Sunday morning service, but Michelle wore a summer dress today since she’d be up front leading the monthly women’s meeting. But, ugh! Her hair. She really needed to get herself to the beauty shop and get a cut and perm. Tabby too. Her daughter’s bushy hair was looking more Afro every day. At the very least it needed shaping. Maybe it was time for some twists or braids.
The sky looked ominous by the time Michelle arrived at the church. And she’d forgotten her umbrella again! Still, the frequent June rains had been keeping the city green. Lawns, parks, trees, and flowering bushes were lush, softening the harsh concrete lines of city streets and buildings.
The meeting didn’t start till ten, but Michelle arrived at nine fifteen just to make sure everything was set up. Sister Mavis was perking coffee and slicing bagels, and Norma was setting up a laptop and projector she’d borrowed that could play the DVD. The church didn’t have a screen, but a blank wall in the fellowship hall would have to do. Shareese, her substantial bosom quite evident in her low-cut yellow blouse, was rearranging the straight rows of chairs the janitor had set up into a semicircle. “Much more friendly, don’t you think, Sister Michelle?” the young woman gushed.