Blessed Trinity

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  A place he obviously had not found with his own blood brother.

  Chapter 38

  But Joshua the son of Nun, which standeth before thee, he shall go in thither: encourage him: for he shall cause Israel to inherit it.

  (Deuteronomy 1:38)

  Pastor Landris went to see Reverend Knight as he promised. Keeping his word was important to Pastor Landris, even when things were falling apart. And that’s what it looked like: everything that could go wrong was doing just that.

  His brother was in a bad way, according to Sapphire. He’d called and found out she was correct. Reverend Knight had said something about Thomas during their conversation on the phone. He wasn’t sure what Reverend Knight’s angle was this time, but there was something in his voice that caused Pastor Landris to believe things were different. He didn’t know what, but he would soon find out.

  “Did you have any trouble finding the place?” Reverend Knight asked when Pastor Landris came in and sat down in the den. Reverend Knight was sitting in an easy chair. He looked different—smaller, sitting down like that.

  “No, your directions were really good,” Pastor Landris said.

  “Should be good—I’ve given them out enough. Do you know how many people want to come by and see you when you’re a pastor?”

  “I have some idea,” Pastor Landris said. “Of course, when I started my ministry here, knowing where I lived was important for those coming to our service.”

  Reverend Knight gave a short laugh. “Yeah, that’s right. You were over at your house holding church. That was ridiculous, you know? I told you that you could have had that building for as long as you needed it.”

  “But what was the catch?”

  “Catch?” Reverend Knight started laughing again. “Oh yeah, the catch. We knew you would fix that building up, so the appraisal value would have tripled—that’s what I figured, anyway.” He started coughing and grabbed a paper towel to hold up to his mouth. Pastor Landris saw him spit something out, wrap the paper towel around it, and throw the towel in the trash can beside him.

  “Are you all right?”

  Reverend Knight looked over at Pastor Landris. “No, Pastor. Actually, I’m not.”

  Pastor Landris sat back in the chair. He could tell something was headed his way, and he would need to be braced to receive the full brunt without being completely knocked over.

  “I have lung cancer.”

  “Do you smoke?”

  Reverend Knight shook his head as though he was in deep reflection.

  “Did you used to smoke?”

  He gave another short laugh. “No. I never smoked a day in my life. But I hung around plenty of folks who did when smoking was allowed everywhere.”

  Reverend Knight took a swallow of water. “I’d gone in for my routine, annual checkup. They did the whole workup. You know, heart, blood pressure, prostate, colon, and my lungs. It was my throat and a hacking cough that had them worried; I couldn’t get rid of this cough. My throat was starting to irritate me, too. I’m sure you notice how often I’ve needed to clear it when I talked.”

  Pastor Landris leaned in and situated his body more comfortably. “Is this why you wanted to see me?”

  “Oh, you think I’m trying to make peace before I check out?” He laughed and shook his head. “Is that what you think my asking you here is all about?”

  “I don’t know. Why did you ask me to come?”

  “I like you, Pastor Landris. I like talking to you. I like hearing you speak. You remind me of what I intended to be when I became a preacher. I don’t know how your calling came about, but mine was so clear. I used to hear people say ‘God spoke to me’ or ‘God called me to preach,’ but I never knew what they really meant. Was it audible? Was it just a feeling down inside? What?” He coughed again.

  “Marshall and I were tight back then—that’s Reverend Walker,” Reverend Knight said. “Marshall was getting into all kinds of trouble. I didn’t want to look like a wimp, so I went along with him. We did something that was not only stupid, but illegal. Something that Marshall and I have always held over each other. We knew after that incident, we’d always be in each other’s corner because one of us could always do the other one in,” Reverend Knight said. “That building that I offered you—I told you there were no strings attached. But I wasn’t completely honest about that.”

  Pastor Landris chuckled. “Go on.”

  “Oh, it’s not what you think. I was straight up in the offer to you. I later learned, though, that Marshall was planning to mess you up in the worst way possible. And believe me, there’s no doubt he would have done that, and then some. But I had my own personal strings. I looked at you, and I really did see the son I never had. My wife already had three girls when we married. She and I chose not to have any of our own. Or, should I say, she chose for the both of us. I regret that now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I often wonder what it would feel like to have my flesh and blood come and sit here with me, and just talk. The love between us would be so strong,” Reverend Knight said. “I love my stepchildren like they were my own. But I’ve never told another soul this: I long to know what my child might have looked like or been like had I fathered one.”

  Pastor Landris began thinking about Princess Rose. He did love that little girl as though she were his own, but she wasn’t his biological child. Biologically, she was Solomon’s and Johnnie Mae’s. Johnnie Mae had been trying to get pregnant for almost two years now. The doctor told them that other than trying fertility drugs or in vitro; they might have to accept that having a baby of their own wasn’t going to be.

  Johnnie Mae had been attempting to convince Landris she was fine with that. Neither he nor Johnnie Mae wanted her to take fertility pills. He had not let her know, though, just how much the two of them having a child together really meant to him.

  At first he wasn’t sure he wanted a child other than Princess Rose. After they talked, and he saw how excited Johnnie Mae was, it was okay with him if she did get pregnant. But he didn’t think he would be that upset if she didn’t. Somewhere along the line, things changed.

  And it wasn’t because his mother was upset about having two sons, neither of whom had blessed her with a grandchild yet. It wasn’t because it would make him feel better as a man, knowing he’d passed on his DNA. It was the feeling of partnering with God, creating a life that only God can cause to live and move and have its being. It was being a father and understanding even more how God sees things as our Father. He wanted a child more than he’d ever expected because he wanted a baby with the woman he loved. It was as simple as that. What a gift to give, to share with each other: a child to call their own.

  As Pastor Landris sat and listened to Reverend Knight, he understood him so much better now.

  “I have something I want you to have, Pastor Landris,” Reverend Knight said. “I don’t know how much longer I have here on this earth. None of us do, really. Believe me, I’m fighting with all I have to extend my stay. On Sunday, I plan to turn in my letter to the church to officially retire as senior pastor.” He cleared his throat and placed his hand over his heart. Reverend Knight was visibly choking up. Tears began to form in his eyes. “I’ve been there for a long time. I love those people more than anyone will ever know. There’s a minister there I hope the congregation chooses as my replacement, but I’ve made the decision to stay out of that whole process.”

  Pastor Landris watched him struggle to get something out of the drawer next to his chair.

  “You know, before I met you,” Reverend Knight said, “I might have decided differently, even about the church where I’ll no longer be the pastor. It’s our way, sometimes, as the old going out, to handpick our successors. Moses chose Joshua. I’ve watched how you’ve handled yourself through all the adversities you’ve had thrown your way.” He pulled out a large gold envelope from the drawer. His hand shook as he held it.

  “You are my Joshua. I’m not trying to pick you
to take over my church.” He smiled. “Funny, huh? How often I’ve said my church over the course of my life?”

  “I know. I’ve heard you a few times just since we met,” Pastor Landris said.

  “Well, I was wrong about that. You’ve taught me this is not about me or mine. It’s God’s church. Those are God’s people. We’re not even the true shepherds, huh?”

  “I preached on that about a month ago,” Pastor Landris said.

  “Jesus is the true Shepherd; I’m just an overseer under Him. They’re still Jesus’ flock. That’s why He told Peter if he loved Him to feed His sheep.” Reverend Knight took another sip of water and set the glass back on the table as he continued to hold the padded envelope in his other hand. “Pastor Landris, I’ve preached about feeding Jesus’ sheep. I heard you say it on a tape I was listening to—”

  “You listen to my tapes?”

  “I’m a regular fan of yours. I signed up for your life-partner special deal. You know, the one where we get a cassette a week. I don’t know how long my contract will last, since my doctor gives me only about six more months to keep whipping this thing or let it whip me.”

  “You’re going to be all right,” Pastor Landris said.

  “Is that a prophetic Word or just you being kind to an old man who one time was not so kind to you?”

  “It’s one of those Second Corinthians 5:8 messages,” Pastor Landris said. “‘We are confident, I say, and willing—’”

  “‘…rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.’” Reverend Knight finished the scripture for him. “But we can’t stop there—verse 9 says, ‘Wherefore we labor, that whether present or absent, we may be accepted of him.’ Then verse 10—”

  “‘For we must appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done…’” Pastor Landris said it with a quiet voice.

  “‘…whether it be good or bad.’ That was a good Word, Pastor Landris,” Reverend Knight said. He handed the envelope to Pastor Landris. “Well, Joshua, I have been to the mountaintop, I have looked over into the Promised Land. I won’t be able to take the people there, but I know you’re going to lead them well. That envelope there…”

  Pastor Landris turned it over in his hand without attempting to open it.

  “That envelope contains something of mine I want you to have. You can open it.”

  Pastor Landris unclasped the metal part and looked inside.

  “There is a white envelope inside with Personal and Private on it. I don’t want you to open that one unless you’re absolutely forced to use it. That’s the secret that will keep Reverend Walker in check. It’s the proof you’ll need, should he ever try to bluff his way through. He knows I have it, but the last thing he’d ever expect is for me to have given it to his sworn enemy.”

  “Sworn enemy? But I don’t even know Reverend Walker except that my brother went to work for him,” Pastor Landris said.

  “You don’t always have to know your enemies for them to hate you with a passion. I’ve kept my good friend Marshall in check against you. He knows I’m not well now. He thinks when I’m gone it will release him to come after you. He will learn, if he chooses to do that, it will be a big mistake. Put that envelope in a safe deposit box, and don’t let anyone know you have it.” Reverend Knight took another drink of water and released a sound that indicated a lifelong thirst had been quenched. He rested a minute, then began again.

  “There’s an envelope in there with your church’s name on it,” Reverend Knight said, twirling his hand in a winding motion as if to tell Pastor Landris to find it and take it out.

  Pastor Landris pulled it out, opened the white envelope, and looked at a check written to Followers of Jesus. “Twenty thousand dollars?” Pastor Landris said with obvious surprise.

  “That’s my gift to the church. I believe in what you said about sowing into good ground. I believe the work you’re doing is good ground. I asked God to give me seed to sow. There was a time I used to teach the idea that people needed to sow to get seed. You made me see how backward that really was. How can you sow what you don’t have to get what you’re hoping to eventually possess? God has the seeds; all we have to do is ask Him to bless us with the seed so we can sow it. That’s pure scripture. The principle behind planting takes care of us having more seeds from sowing what God blesses us with. Another good Word from you, Pastor Landris.”

  “You asked for this seed to sow?” Pastor Landris put the check back in the envelope. “You went to God specifically asking Him for this seed to sow into what I’m doing?”

  “Yes. I asked God to give it to me, and He did. I’m not taking this from anywhere that I can’t afford to take it from. He gave me this seed for you, just as I asked. He also gave me extra seed while He was giving me that for you,” Reverend Knight said. “As old as I am and as many times as I’ve read that scripture, I’ve not taught it right or lived it right. Think of all the blessings I’ve missed because I was teaching people to find seed to sow to get seed from God. I should have been teaching like you: Ask God for seed, and He’ll give you seed to sow. But we have to ask Him. You can do it the hard way, but why, when God has made it so simple.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you. You have no idea what this means to me, spiritually,” Pastor Landris said. “This was the last thing I expected.”

  “From me,” Reverend Knight said. “You can say it. You know I’ve always told you I like the fact that you don’t play around, and you get to your point. Don’t go getting soft on me now because we’re here bonding.” Reverend Knight’s words were becoming labored.

  “You’re getting tired,” Pastor Landris said.

  “One more thing and you can go,” Reverend Knight said. “There’s one more thing in that envelope. See that box in there?”

  Pastor Landris looked again in the envelope. “Yes.”

  “Take it out and open it.”

  Pastor Landris did as he was told. Inside the small box was a man’s ring.

  “That was my father’s ring. I loved and respected my father so much. He had that ring specially made. I used to think of it as our kingdom signet ring, as if I was the son of a real king. When my father gave it to me, I was so proud to own it. I cherished it with all my heart. It always made me feel like he was still with me just because I had his ring. If I had a son, I would have passed that ring on to him in hopes that he’d feel the same. I’d be honored, Pastor Landris, since I don’t have a son of my own, if you’d accept this symbol of kinship on behalf of a son in whom I am well pleased.”

  “Reverend Knight, I’m honored that you would even consider doing something like this, but I know how much a family heirloom like this can mean to other family members. Don’t you have any brothers or sisters or other relatives who might want it?”

  Reverend Knight laughed. “In fact, I have plenty. But my father gave that ring to me. It was a gift I could do with as I chose. My intent was to pass it on to my son when I had one. I have now chosen to pass it on to you.”

  Pastor Landris wiped his face with his hand. This was weightier than anything he’d anticipated when he agreed to come here.

  “I’m truly, truly honored,” Pastor Landris said, looking Reverend Knight in his tired eyes. “I mean that.”

  “No, I’m the one who has just been honored.” Reverend Knight reached on top of the table and picked up his Bible. He started turning the pages. “I know I said I only had one last thing. But there’s a scripture—I want you to read it for me. I won’t even try to see if you know this one by heart. You probably do. I just want to hear you read it for me.” He handed Pastor Landris the Bible already opened to the book of Deuteronomy. “Read from Deuteronomy 1:35–38.” He closed his eyes as Pastor Landris began to read.

  Surely there shall not one of these men of this evil generation see that good land, which I sware to give unto your fathers. Save Caleb the son of Jephunneh; he shall see it, an
d to him will I give the land that he hath trodden upon, and to his children, because he hath wholly followed the LORD. Also the LORD was angry with me for your sakes, saying, Thou also shalt not go in thither. But Joshua the son of Nun, which standeth before thee, he shall go in thither: encourage him: for he shall cause Israel to inherit it.

  Pastor Landris ran his hand over the page, closed the Bible, and handed it back to Reverend Knight with a nod as he found himself fighting back his own tears.

  Chapter 39

  But Nineveh is of old like a pool of water: yet they shall flee away. Stand, stand, shall they cry; but none shall look back.

  (Nahum 2:8)

  Faith and Johnnie Mae were working in an office at the church. Faith didn’t want Hope to try to help her do the typing of the workbook Johnnie Mae had written. Faith was the one who’d suggested she and Johnnie Mae work together at church. She felt things would go faster, and if she needed clarification or saw a problem that needed to be addressed, the two of them would already be there to handle it.

  Faith could overhear Johnnie Mae’s conversation on the phone. She soon learned Johnnie Mae was busy with all kinds of problems Faith had no idea about.

  There was the new house she and Pastor Landris were building. It was stressing her out more than she’d expected. The contractor had ordered the wrong things—they had erroneously put double-crown molding in the rooms for which they had specifically requested triple-crown. Johnnie Mae had picked out the carpet and paint colors, but they’d misplaced the information for the carpeting and needed an answer quickly since the house was getting close—or so they claimed—to being finished.

  “Tell you what—just put white carpet upstairs in all the rooms except the ones with hardwood floors,” Johnnie Mae said.

  Faith couldn’t believe she was getting white carpet. That’s a nightmare waiting to happen, for sure!