Blessed Trinity

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  “Faith? May I ask you a question? Is there something going on with Hope? I miss seeing her when she’s not here. She always makes a point to at least come and speak when she does attend. I realize with so many more members in attendance and two services, it’s more difficult to tell when a person is absent or merely attended a different service. But there are times when I’m sure Hope is not here, and it’s not because she just didn’t want to. When I ask her about it later, she won’t necessarily say what happened. Although she has told me a few times it just couldn’t be helped.”

  “Has she ever told you why it couldn’t be helped?” Faith asked nervously. She was aware Hope could talk a little too much sometimes. Faith often compared her to an unplugged refrigerator—can’t keep a thing.

  “Well, no,” Johnnie Mae said. “I generally let her know she was missed, and she usually responds that there are things that hold her back over which she has little or no control. I don’t know. I just feel like there’s something going on she’s not telling, but she wants desperately to get off her heart. She did say she’s trying to overcome these obstacles.”

  Faith began to nod. “That’s true,” she said, admittedly proud of Hope for that answer. It was a good and honest answer—almost. Faith couldn’t help but wonder what Hope had meant “by little control” though. Who is she trying to fool? “That’s Hope. I’m sorry; I can’t help you with that one.”

  “Maybe you should bring Charity with you one Sunday and see if this is a place she might feel comfortable coming to. And, if there’s anything I can do to help with any of you,” Johnnie Mae handed Faith her business card, “I’ll be more than happy to.” Johnnie Mae looked at her.

  Faith instantly recognized that look—Johnnie Mae was trying to read her. Faith smiled and nodded again. “I’ll see what I can do—about Charity. But you know how some people are. Charity is the sweetest, kindest, most loving person I’ve ever known. She gets hurt a lot, though, because she puts herself all the way out there. She doesn’t know how to hold back or do anything halfway. She trusts too easily, too much, and generally too soon. I’m just not sure if a large church would work for her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The more people in attendance, the more people you have to be careful of. I’m sure you’re aware that everybody who comes to church isn’t there for the right reasons. Someone like Charity will put her heart out there, and some of these wolves in sheep’s clothing might try to swallow her whole. That’s why she didn’t continue visiting Reverend Knight’s church.”

  Okay, so that wasn’t totally the truth, Faith thought.

  “This church is small enough right now,” Faith continued. “But we all know Pastor Landris is poised to take off big. People all around the city are all talking about him and what’s going on here,” Faith said. “Folk are being delivered, healed, and set free. Before this year is out, I’m certain there will be over a thousand members, if not more. And this building will be way too small to hold everyone.”

  “You’re right. We’re growing at a tremendous rate. But you’re saying you’re afraid for Charity to attend here because of people? Being around too many people?”

  Faith stopped and thought a second. She knew whatever she said had to be right and honest. One thing Charity wouldn’t tolerate was flat-out lying. Faith had seen Charity’s reaction whenever she lied. Faith knew there would be consequences if she didn’t speak the truth about her. And Charity would somehow know; she always knew whenever Faith had been untruthful. “Charity is great with people. But people will take advantage of her if she’s not careful.” Faith suddenly wanted to hurry and get away from this line of conversation. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Is she a teenager or something?”

  “No, she’s thirty-one—two years younger than me.”

  Johnnie Mae smiled. “I was just wondering why you feel it necessary to protect your sister when it seems she should be old enough to look out for herself.”

  Faith didn’t really care for that comment at all, or what Johnnie Mae was implying. Nobody knew what was going on with the three of them. And Faith planned on it remaining that way. “Don’t misunderstand me,” Faith said. “It’s just that the genuine love she has for others can blind her to a fault.”

  “Fair enough. But I think she’d be fine here. A congregational body should start from the head and work its way down. Pastor Landris is leading us as he follows Jesus. Some things, I can assure you, he won’t tolerate here. Maybe I should talk to Hope and see what she thinks about Charity possibly coming.”

  Faith knew this was a bad idea. She knew there was nothing more Hope would love than to have Charity come to this place. Then the two of them would likely start feeling strong enough together to aggressively challenge her as well as her decisions. She definitely couldn’t have that.

  Faith put Johnnie Mae’s business card safely away in her purse. “I’ll let Charity know the welcome mat has been extended by none other than the wife of the pastor. If she comes, she comes. If not, we’ll just have to accept that maybe this is not the place for her.”

  And that was how Faith left it.

  If Faith had anything to say about this, there was no way Charity would ever step foot in that church. Faith would fight that idea to the bitter end. Charity wasn’t like Hope. Faith believed Charity was just too open and caring. And if both Charity and Hope started believing any way close to the way Hope was already starting to, Faith knew she could be in serious trouble.

  Faith had worked too hard protecting Charity all these years. Hope knew the deal. Yet, here lately, she felt Charity had become much stronger than Faith was convinced she had. Faith didn’t believe Charity was there just yet. She’d seen Charity’s pain. She knew how devastating things had been for her. And Faith had vowed never again to allow anyone to hurt Charity as long as she was around.

  Never!

  If Charity were to come to Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center, Faith felt she just might start thinking she could handle things without her. She just might believe she really could do all things through Christ. Faith had made a promise to take care of Charity, to protect her, and go to bat for her. And she planned to do everything in her power to keep that promise.

  I am Faith. I believe it, and I act like I expect it to come to pass. Faith could see Charity was somewhat like her, only she didn’t seem to care as much whether she got the things she wanted or not. All Charity seemed interested in was sharing love. When people hurt her, she forgave them in love…whether they asked for forgiveness or not. Charity had told Faith once, “Forgiveness truly is a gift that I give to myself.”

  On the contrary, Faith cared about being hurt, and she did keep score.

  Charity was patient. She would give people time, realizing that everybody made mistakes, so she was not so judgmental. Charity was kind; Faith had never heard her say one harsh word to or about anyone. Charity didn’t sit around envying what others possessed, but she was always grateful for what she had. Charity didn’t go around boasting about what she had either, or all she’d done.

  Frankly, Faith thought both Charity and Hope could take more pointers from her. Faith believed one should toot one’s own horn sometimes. How else will people ever know what you’ve accomplished if you don’t tell them?

  Charity was proud, but not in a prideful way. She was proud of what God had done and was continuing to do in her life, but she wasn’t the type to walk around acting like she thought she was all that. Faith believed if you had it, you ought to flaunt it. But then again…she was Faith.

  Charity could never be rude to anyone. And she wouldn’t dare ever interrupt a person while they were talking—no matter how boringly long it took them to get their point across. Charity would merely sit patiently and listen. And walking out on someone the way Faith had done with Patrice and Olivia that time? Charity would never have done anything as discourteous as that.

  Charity didn’t get angry easily. Not to imply she did
n’t get angry, but it was hard to get her to that place. And when she did get angry, she chose not to sin doing it. Charity didn’t believe in keeping a record of the wrongs people had done to her.

  Charity wasn’t the type to celebrate when bad things happened to people who had wronged her—even those she knew probably deserved it.

  Faith, on the other hand, considered something of that nature to be poetic justice and was known to have performed a celebratory dance when those who had wronged her felt the sting of pain in their lives. Faith didn’t necessarily pray for bad things to happen to them, but when it happened….Oh, well.

  Charity could be most protective—Faith felt they had that in common. The difference being: Faith’s focus of protection extended only to those she cared about, whereas Charity’s was not that limited.

  Here again, this was why Faith believed she was so necessary. Charity trusted too much. She had a tendency to put herself out there to get hurt. Faith’s job was to make sure Charity didn’t get hurt again. Faith knew Charity would persevere, though. That was what she loved most about her. Some of the things Charity had experienced would have taken a weaker person out totally—but not Charity. She always found a way to cope, and she was still going strong. Charity had never failed because love never fails.

  Although Faith would never admit it aloud, there were times when she wished she could love unconditionally like Charity.

  Faith was still not convinced that visiting Pastor Landris’s church would turn out to be the best thing for Charity or herself, for that matter, in the end. If Faith were to be truthful about this, she’d acknowledge how afraid she was that her position in Charity’s life just might be the thing that came to an end.

  And that—she didn’t think she was ready for…just yet.

  Chapter 25

  But when they deliver you up, take no thought how or what ye shall speak: for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak.

  (Matthew 10:19)

  Pastor Landris and Brent scheduled a meeting with Dexter Iron and Steel, the owners of the thirty-five acres the church was looking to purchase. The church was holding two services now. It wouldn’t be long before both would be filled to capacity. The board members of Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center had met to decide the next course of action. There was discussion about adding another modular in an effort to open up more room in the main sanctuary. They had also considered the idea of making the new addition into an overflow room equipped with a large television screen to broadcast the service while it was going on, but that idea was tabled for the present.

  They agreed that the best plan would be to purchase the remaining acres and begin building the new worship center sanctuary. The people who were attending presently were giving generously toward the ministry, evidenced by a 10,000 percent spike in finances.

  “You want me to do what now?” Mr. Busby, the owner of Dexter Iron and Steel said.

  “We’d like you to sell us the remaining thirty-five acres we previously agreed to purchase, only at a ten percent discount off the original asking price with consideration of this amended proposal,” Brent said, tapping the folder containing his copy of the proposal. He looked at Pastor Landris, who nodded approval of Brent’s summary of the previous hour-long presentation.

  Mr. Busby looked at his financial advisor, then back over at Pastor Landris and Brent. “You do realize I’m a very busy man? And I don’t have time to play games. I like to ‘hit it’ and ‘quit it,’ as some people say. This idea…this new proposal you two have just brought to me,” he said, shaking his head, “is absolutely fantastic! I mean, I really love it.” As the owner, his decision carried the weight Pastor Landris and Brent needed. “So…when can we get started? I’m ready. Let’s get these papers drawn up.” He glanced at his right-hand man.

  “And Wilson,” Mr. Busby said, “I don’t want any of your usual red tape nonsense. In fact, I want you to draft it just like Pastor Landris and Mr. Underwood here have proposed it. Let them then take it to their lawyers to make sure it’s exactly what we’re agreeing on today. I mean, I don’t want any unnecessary delays.”

  “But, Mr. Busby, I think we should discuss this a little more in depth, privately,” Wilson said. His head slid downward slowly as an additional signal to slow things down.

  “What more is there to discuss? We sell them the remaining thirty-five acres at the price they have proposed—the ten percent reduction of our price, which, looking at the figures, is still pretty high. We then take the 250 acres we still own surrounding their 40 acres and divide it up: 75 acres into an upscale housing division section of 3-acre plots, 30 acres into a middleclass housing development of one-third of an acre for each plot, and the other 145 acres go toward a shopping center, retirement housing community, possible business unit, and other projects the church is proposing. Like their future college campus, maybe. I think it’s brilliant! Imagine the good will feedback this is going to generate. And we’ll be doing something that’s giving back to the community. Can’t you just see those subdivisions? That proposal alone will more than make this entire deal worth it.”

  “But sir,” Wilson said. “Might I point out—there are other churches already proposing to do this exact same thing or something similar? Other…black…churches. I really think you and I should sit down and talk about this further. Privately. We can then get back to Pastor Landris and Mr. Underwood as quickly as tomorrow.”

  “So you say other black churches are proposing this same sort of thing?”

  “Yes, a few have mentioned this publicly. It’s on record.”

  “Good! Then it sounds to me like an idea whose time has come,” Mr. Busby said. “Talk is one thing; we’re about to see something start to manifest in a matter of a few months, I do believe. These people here are ready to move. Pastor Landris, if you can get the money for the land within the next sixty days, plus what the two of you have personally agreed upon to purchase property to begin building your own new homes, we, gentlemen, will have brokered ourselves an awesome deal.” He looked at Brent and Pastor Landris. “Wilson will have the contract in your hands in two to three days.”

  Wilson started to open his mouth, but Mr. Busby raised his hand and shook his head. Wilson’s mouth closed.

  “Sixty days to closing,” Mr. Busby said to Pastor Landris and Brent, “after the contract has been signed.”

  Brent looked at Pastor Landris and smiled. They shook Mr. Busby’s and Wilson’s hands. Wilson wasn’t at all as happy about this as the three.

  Brent laughed, when he and Pastor Landris were secure in Pastor Landris’s Denali and on their way back to the church to get Brent’s car.

  “Can you believe what just happened?” Brent asked.

  “God is awesome, isn’t He?” Pastor Landris said.

  “If I hadn’t been there to see it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it was possible. That man agreed to the whole thing! All of it,” Brent said.

  “Yeah.” Pastor Landris shook his head. “Now, we just need to come up with six million dollars for the church land, and we’ll be well on our way.”

  “And, of course, there’s also the money you and I agreed to pay for the land to build our new homes,” Brent said. “That was something, wherever it came from. Truthfully, I wasn’t looking to build a house just yet. I thought I’d wait until I married to worry about that kind of long-term commitment. And you already have a nice home, Pastor Landris. So I know you did this totally for the new worship center’s benefit.”

  “Both of us just made a sacrifice for the sake of the worship center that’s to come. God placed those words in my mouth at that precise moment. It just happens that’s what appears to have sealed the deal for us in the end,” Pastor Landris said as he glanced at Brent. “Brent, I need you to be honest with me. The check you just wrote—can you cover it?”

  “You mean the check I just wrote with my mouth, or the one I’m about to write out of my bank account for that property?”


  “Both.”

  “Yeah, Pastor. I got it. I have some money put away. And this is actually a smart investment. So don’t be totally impressed with me for agreeing to buy three acres of prime property for myself. Can you imagine? A subdivision as nice as these with a shopping center, theater, possibly the school and college you envisioned, all close to our new sanctuary?”

  “Yes—in fact, I can imagine it. That’s how God works. He says we have to see it before we can see it, then we’ll see it. I’ve seen this from the beginning. After God sent me to Birmingham, He showed me this very thing in a vision. Now, thanks to you and the talent you’ve chosen to invest in the Kingdom of God through our ministry, we’re on our way. Everybody will be able to see it.”

  Pastor Landris turned the music down. He was listening to an Israel & New Breed CD. “Can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Angel Gabriel. Is there something going on between the two of you? I’ve noticed you two when you’re together. Am I getting something wrong here? Or is this just plain none of my business?”

  Brent laughed. “Angel is…I know this sounds like a cliché, but she truly is an angel.” He started grinning uncontrollably, the kind of grin a person tries to stop but can’t.

  Pastor Landris looked at him. “That’s definitely the smile of a man who has fallen hard. So I’m on the right track.” The light turned green. “Oh, yes, I remember that look well. I’ve seen it once or twice in a mirror myself.”

  “I don’t know if I’d go as far as to call me fallen, but Angel is something special, for sure. To answer your question, she and I aren’t actually dating or anything. We catch a movie together every now and then, get a bite to eat once or twice a week, or on occasion work late at her apartment. But that’s pretty much the extent of it.”

  “Oh, but you’re not dating? Uh-huh. I see.”