Count It All Joy

by Ashea S. Goldson

  “Now, Joshua. You see, this is even more of a reason for you to do what you need to do, because now, you’ve got another child depending on you,” Mother Benning said.

  I could see Joshua’s jaw tightening.

  “I’m already doing what I have to do,” he said.

  “Not quite, son.”

  “How is that, Mother?”

  “You know what you should be doing for your family, Joshua. You know what is expected of you.” Sister Benning cut her eyes at me. “You used to not have a problem with that.”

  I didn’t dare say a word. I just excused myself from the table and started clearing away the dinner dishes.

  “No, that’s before I knew what God wanted me to do with my life specifically,” Joshua replied.

  “So, are you saying God wants you to break your parents’ hearts?”

  “No, just that He doesn’t want me to pastor Kingdom House.” He picked up his Bible from the center table.

  Mother Benning remained calm. “But you’re a minister, so is that so far-fetched?”

  As usual Joshua held his own. “It’s far-fetched for me because I haven’t been given those instructions.”

  “So God wants you to be a pauper all your life, disappoint your entire family, and bring ridicule to the Benning name?” Mother Benning stood up, walked over to the leather sectional, took a tissue out of her pocket, wiped off the seat, and then sat down. I mumbled to myself about her nerve.

  Joshua shook his head. “Mother, why must we continue down this path? You know I’ve been told to build a new church, to build a different kind of ministry.”

  “Right. A different kind of ministry, one so different it’s right off the pages of the Bible.”

  Mother Benning pursed her lips.

  I didn’t know how Joshua was going to handle that one. Her mouth, like the Word, was sharper than any two-edged sword.

  “Now you know that’s not true,” Joshua said.

  “All I know is that every day I have to look at your poor, weak father and know he can’t rest because his only son, who is a minister, refuses to help out.”

  Joshua almost looked defeated, with his head held low and his bottom lip even lower. “I never refused to help out.”

  Mother Benning was not moved by his countenance. “Well, there is a gap in the system somewhere, son, because we still need help.”

  “You’ve got an interim pastor at the church now, and I’ll always help out just as long as you and Dad both know any ministering thing I do at Kingdom House of Prayer is just temporary.”

  Mother Benning rolled her eyes. “God’s work is not temporary.”

  “But me working at Kingdom House is.” Joshua raised his voice slightly to emphasize his point.

  “You’re stubborn, just like your father.” She grabbed her coat from the coatrack.

  Joshua looked up to the ceiling. “Oh, so I’m stubborn like my father?”

  Mother Benning walked toward the door without looking back. “Are you implying that I’m the one that’s stubborn?”

  “Listen, can’t we just have a truce?” Joshua held up both hands. “I don’t want to fight with you. I just know what I have to do.”

  “Well, let me know when you change your mind.” She turned to face us.

  Joshua didn’t blink. “Change my mind?”

  Mother Benning tilted her head slightly. “I serve a powerful God, and my prayers are worth a million.”

  “Then I need you on my team,” he smiled and kissed his mother’s cheek.

  Mother Benning seemed to soften a little. “I guess this baby may just bring us all together.” She lightly touched my stomach before she headed through the door.

  I smiled at the possibility that we might be a family after all.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Joshua

  I sat slouched out on the couch watching basketball with Brother Jameson. His first name was Robert, but no one, including me, called him that. Peace and relaxation. No women or girls in the house at all. Just hot wings, roasted peanuts, nacho chips, and cheese dip, and lots of soda. Just watching LeBron score without interference. Now that’s what I was talking about.

  “Oh, did you see that jump shot? Bruh, did you see that?” Robert jumped off of the couch with his hands in the air.

  “Man, you know I didn’t miss that,” I said.

  “A brother could score with his eyes closed.” He put up his hand.

  I slapped him five. “All day long.”

  Suddenly, a Missionary Bible College commercial came on with a tall, exotic-looking model in it. The young lady reminded me of Delilah. I remembered her mood swings, how she’d walk out whenever Lilah was crying. What kind of mother walked away from her crying infant?

  Apparently motherhood was just too much for her. All she ever wanted was money and fame. How could I have been so stupid that I thought I was enough for her, that I could make her happy? Instead, I was more like a plaything for her—a temporary toy for her amusement.

  It hurt me to know that Lilah and I were never more than that.

  This rang a particular chord with me today because it was Lilah’s fifth birthday. I couldn’t help but think of Delilah when I looked into Lilah’s deep dark eyes or when I touched her thick, wavy hair. She looked more and more like her mother every day. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t still painful because it was, but it was less painful than it used to be. And by the grace of God, it was getting better every day.

  Alex and Lilah were gone and wouldn’t be returning until the late afternoon. She informed me beforehand that they’d be doing some birthday shopping before the main event.

  Then we’d go out as a family to celebrate Lilah’s birthday at The Prospect Park Zoo.

  So we sprawled out on the couches in the living room, making the kind of mess I knew my wife would be upset about. But it was okay because she wasn’t here, and by the time she got back, I’d have it all cleaned up anyway. There would be no sign of how much fun I had without her. I had to smile at the thought.

  By the time the game was over and Robert went home to his own wife, Alex and Lilah returned. While they walked to Lilah’s room with hands full of shopping bags, I hurried to finish vacuuming up the crumbs so my wife wouldn’t go off.

  “You shouldn’t be carrying all those bags,” I said.

  “Nothing is heavy,” Alex yelled out to me.

  Lilah ran out. “We bought a lot of good stuff, Daddy.”

  “All right, sweetie,” I said, dumping the last of the soda cans into the trash.

  When Alex came back, she kissed me on the forehead, shook her head, and proceeded to take the birthday cake out of the refrigerator.

  “I can see that you and Brother Jameson had fun today,” she said, looking around the room.

  “Yeah, a little,” I said.

  Alex smiled before she put the cake in my hands. “Looks like more than a little fun to me.” Then she grabbed the bags of juice, and the three of us headed down to Prospect Park for Lilah’s party.

  We invited ten of Lilah’s little friends from the children’s ministry. Most of them knew Lilah pretty well because they’d played together at church twice a week for the past two and a half years. Since Alex and I chose the barnyard theme for three- to five-year-olds, Lilah and her ten invited guests were able to feed sheep, play barnyard games, and pet an alpaca’s nose while their parents looked on. Lilah fell in love with Aggie the cow and wanted to take her home.

  Mother, Taylor, and Keith were there also. We served the cake, juice, and sang Stevie Wonder’s version of “Happy Birthday.” The zoo’s birthday staff gave out the goodie bags, and everyone enjoyed the rest of their time at the zoo.

  I was glad everyone was having fun, but my mind was actually on the five hundred-dollar price tag for this gig. We had discussed having this party a few months back, but that was before the money situation became tight and not right. With a new baby on the way, the fertility clinic bills, school bills, and Delilah
’s old debts, I was definitely strapped for cash. Still, I wanted to feel like I was a good father, so I let my daughter have the time of her life. Later on that evening, I stayed up after midnight with my calculator, trying to make right what I knew was wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Alex

  I was sick like a dog from the very beginning, throwing up constantly, getting dizzy, and even having sharp abdominal pains. So my first trimester was already wreaking havoc on my life. The nurses pulled so much blood during the first few months that I didn’t know if I was dead or alive half of the time. I mean, the whole time I was being tested for this and that, my heart felt like it couldn’t take it. I’d always whisper a prayer right before. Please, Lord, let this baby be okay in Jesus’ name. And the baby always was okay, but that didn’t stop me from holding my breath every time I had another appointment.

  So despite the fact that I’d been sick at work all weeklong, it was time for Kingdom House’s Anniversary banquet. This would be my first year attending as Joshua’s wife. It would also be the first year that Pastor Benning would not be leading the ceremonies. Although he had been in and out of the hospital lately, I was glad he felt well enough to attend, though, because if he hadn’t, the anniversary would have gone on without him.

  Joshua was dressed in a black and white tuxedo with black shoes with white trim. I wore a little black evening gown, maternity-style, of course, although I was barely showing, and black patent leather pumps. My sister had helped me put my outfit together so I wouldn’t make a fool of myself, not that I couldn’t dress or anything, but for this occasion, I wanted to make a statement. A double rope of gold was around my neck, and dangling gold earrings with a diamond in the center hung from my ears, compliments of Taylor. She had an extensive collection of jewelry from all the big ballers, shot callers she’d dated over the years. Lilah was dressed in a simple lavender lace dress with patent leather shoes, and she had a lavender flower in her hair. That too was a tip from Taylor, the bona fide diva.

  When we arrived, both members and invited guests aligned the walkway that led to the main entrance. The church sat on ten acres of land that resembled a college campus with its adjacent buildings and large grassy rest areas. Kingdom House was a neotraditional building with huge stained glass windows, and French doors with brass handles. Inside the main lobby of the sanctuary were cathedral ceilings and marble floors. Once inside the actual sanctuary, I was overtaken by the lights, cameras, thick jade carpet, jade cushioned seats, a marble stage area, and the ivory pulpit. It was quite a spectacle from my perspective.

  Bishop Benning was there, although he looked very weak. Mother Benning came up to the microphone, greeted everyone, and introduced her son Joshua as the master of ceremonies. Joshua then thanked his parents for their twenty-seven years of service, thanked them for allowing him to honor them by standing in the pulpit, and congratulated them on Kingdom House’s anniversary. I was so proud of him standing there holding the microphone, a confidant man of God. When he was done with his speech, the praise dancers took off running across the stage, dressed in orange, peach, and gold. It was so beautiful.

  A Christian comedian named Joel Lee came forward next and entertained us with his clean sense of humor. He didn’t look very much like a comedian when I saw him, with his three-piece suit, beard, and his slick goatee. But after hearing him tell jokes about the black family, though, I had to admit he was funnier than I thought he’d be.

  Next on the agenda was a solo by Sister Kaelah Price, but she couldn’t be found. First everyone scrambled to find her until they received a phone call saying she was still stuck at the airport. So Joshua insisted that I replace her on the program.

  I punched him with my elbow. “No, Joshua.”

  “Why not? You can do it.”

  I shook my head. “I can, but I don’t think—”

  “Don’t think. When it comes to God’s will—just do,” he said.

  I knew Joshua was right, and the praise dancers would be done with their second act soon.

  The solo was next on the agenda so I had to get ready. I took a deep breath before I started the song. I didn’t know where the strength came from, but I found it somehow. I reached deep inside, stepped up to the microphone, and sang “The Best in Me.” Inside my head I didn’t know where God was going with this, but I let Him have control. It was as if I were floating outside of myself as I sang to His glory. I walked up and down the stage, shouting, “Hallelujah to the blood of the Lamb.” As I surrendered everything, I felt burdens being lifted, yokes being destroyed, and I knew there was power in praise. Sure, I’d sung with the praise team for the past five years, up until the Lord placed the young women’s ministry on my heart, but I’d never done a solo with such a large audience. Yet, the thick crowds applauded, cried out, and got caught up in the spirit. When I was done, I was soaking wet with perspiration, and I clearly felt God’s presence. Thank you, Jesus, for your anointing.

  I saw Mother Benning watching me from the corner of my eye. She walked over to me backstage, straightened a piece of hair that hung in my face, and looked into my eyes.

  “That was very nice, dear,” Mother Benning said.

  Coming from my mother-in-law, that was the compliment of all compliments.

  “Thanks.” In a perfect world, my mother-in-law would adore me and I, her. We’d go shopping, call each other at least once a week, and plan all the family events together. But in my world, I was just glad to be acknowledged, on occasion, as Joshua’s wife. I didn’t dare hope for more than that, so I moved away from her quickly before she took it back. Lord knows she was capable of doing so.

  Our own Pastor Martin was up next to speak, and his message was brief: Faith is the key to breakthrough. It was not a new revelation, but it was powerful nonetheless. If only I could tighten up my own faith walk.

  By the time we were dismissed to the grand dining room, I was more than ready to eat.

  Our plates of sirloin steaks and baked potatoes with sautéed mushrooms and green beans had just been served, but that baby in me was crying out for food like he or she hadn’t eaten a day in his or her life. Then to make it worse, as soon as I sat down at our round table with Joshua and Lilah, I started to feel nauseated. Oh no, not now. I thought about this special occasion, my expensive outfit, and this elegantly set table in front of me, and tried to hold everything down.

  Joshua saw the look of fear in my face. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m feeling sick.” I leaned over toward the floor.

  “Let’s go.” He took my arm and quickly led me out to the ladies’ room.

  I made it into the stall just in time because I couldn’t hold it in any longer. That was how my life rolled lately. I just hoped that with all that was happening, my life wasn’t rolling out of control.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Alex

  When I arrived at work that morning, Dr. Harding was already waiting at my desk for me. It wasn’t that I was late or anything. Actually, I was never late to work. I took my job seriously, and I paced myself in the morning. Plus, with Joshua waking up at five o’clock every morning to pray, I never overslept. I always had plenty of time to get to work by nine o’clock.

  Dr. Harding, being the visionary that he was, decided to add to my already overloaded job description. “Sister Alex, I wanted to speak to you about something important.”

  I tried not to look puzzled. “No problem, sir. Do you need me to come to your office?”

  “No, it’s nothing that serious. I’d just like you to team up with Brother Seger to work on the newest Missionary project, which is our radio show. It’s going to be bigger than the commercial.”

  “Excuse me? Don’t we have a producer for that?”

  “Yes, we do.”

  I tried to look pleasant, even though I was nervous about his answer. “Am I missing something?”

  “I’ve put Seger in on it also because he’s got a lot of good ideas, and he helped secu
re our model for the commercial. That really helped us a lot. But now, we want to go a different route.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was he kidding me? “A different route? A route where I’m involved?”

  “Yes, I’ve been meeting with the board, and unlike the commercial, they want a radio show that’s less trendy but more informative.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said, trying to put the pieces together.

  Dr. Harding pulled his graying beard. “I knew you would, Sister Alex.”

  I was still confused. “Okay, but why me? What do I have to do with all of this?”

  “You did such an awesome job with public relations last year, I’d just like to see your ideas implemented in the show as well. It’s cheaper to use the talent we have right here, rather than hire a special group for this project.”

  “I see.” All I could think of was what this project would cost me—a lost night’s sleep, bitter arguments with Joshua, or worse.

  “You all will basically just serve as advisors for the producers,” Dr. Harding said.

  “I don’t understand.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to help with a radio show.”

  Dr. Harding cleared his throat. “Sister Alex, you know this school like the back of your hand, and you also know what’s in our best interests. I’d like you to be on board, ensuring that everything in the radio show will represent Missionary in its best light.”

  “Oh, I will, sir,” I said.

  “Good.” Dr. Harding patted me on the shoulder.

  “Well, thanks for the confidence in me.” I forced myself to smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “No, don’t see. Just do,” Dr. Harding chuckled.