It had been awhile since I had been to church, read a Bible, said a prayer, or listened to agospel song and I had added a few new words to my vocabulary to express mypoint in times of anger.
Then a femalefriend called me and invited me to church. She was a church girl.” No, she wasTHEEE “church girl.” No Club Upscale, no City Nights, no Perfect 10 parties, nodaiquiris, no secular music (except music with no lyrics), none of that.
I couldn’teven get her to come by the apartment for a Blockbuster night because she saidit might give the neighbors the wrong impression if they saw her leaving myplace too late. Her schedule included Sunday school, a.m. and p.m. worship,visiting Sister Ethel-May at the nursing home in between those two services,mid-week Bible studies, prayer service, school and work. She was real cool,too. She always called to check on me, the conversation was always good, and wehad fun playing Guesstures together. She kept a prayer journal and no matterwhat we talked about, she’d flip it into something spiritual. She was the kindof girl that would make you want to throw away your Tupac CD and go get thelatest album from Smokey Norful.
As far aslooks, think Naomi Campbell! Think Kenya Moore! Think Nia Long (she speaksfluent French too)! I might sound like a heathen for saying this, but if sheinvites you to church, fellas, you will make those arrangements to go.
What I likedmost about her was the fact that there wasn’t a brother around who could tellme how good, or bad, the “cake” was. When she gave me her phone number, shewrote it on a gospel tract. The only problem I had with her was that she wentto “the other school” across town instead of SU.
We were in worship that morning, as shesat fully focused taking notes on the sermon, I spent the service distracted byhow fine she was. Two words to describe her: sexy but modest. This isdefinitely wifey material, I thought to myself. I was on a mission.
Later that night, we were talking on thephone. “What kind of guy are you looking for?” I asked her.
“A soldier,”she replied.
“What kind ofsoldier?” I asked.
“The kinddescribed in Ephesians 6:13-18,” she responded.
I told her that I respected her forbeing the strong, spiritual person that she was, and that I was diggin’ her styleand thought that she was extremely beautiful and exactly the kind of woman Iwas looking for. There was a long pause, followed by a sigh.
”I do like you, A.J., and I care aboutyou and I am concerned about your soul, BUT…(never a good word),”she sighedagain. “I’m looking for a leader in the church,” she said.
Someone who’s’on fire’ for God,” she said in a tone that implied the notion that she didn’tsee those qualities in me. “I need someone who is trying to get to Heaven.”
OUUUCH,Ithought.
The message:Fellas, the good ones are out there. Get it together and don’t miss yourblessing.
