7. Onesti
"Something about the name, Jesus. Ohhh. Ohhh. Something about the name Jesus," I sing while walking along the path at the park.
One of the things I enjoy doing outside of reading is meditating, but from a place where I can also witness the beauty of nature. Walking through the clearing that will lead me deeper into the path, ideal for kidnappers or wildlife, I sigh yet keep moving. My spirit has been unsettled all day, and I can't seem to shake the heaviness within me, so in an attempt to shift my mood, I came to the park. Between the sun shining, the birds chirping, and the kids playing on the equipment not far from me, I'm feeling a bit better.
"Alright, God, peace from these foreign feelings is in your name. What's wrong with me?" I whisper, momentarily blocking out Rance Allen's voice in my ears.
When my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will take me up.
The scripture sounding in my mind almost causes me to trip over the crack in the concrete I'm walking on. My brows hike, and my nose wrinkles from the weirdness of it because I don't have any issues with Mom or Dad. In fact, without them, I wouldn't know where I would be because their love has always been overflowing and?—
Sometimes, it's not because of you.
"Huh? Why would that scripture come into play if it's not pertaining to me?" I say aloud.
We, who are strong, ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, not to please ourselves.
"Who’s weak?"
Asaiah.
A shiver goes down my back at the name echoing in my mind because I realize my mood has been off since seeing Asaiah embracing a petite older woman with his eyes closed the other day. Something about how he held onto the woman made my heart stammer in my chest. Not wanting to invade his privacy, I ignored the urge to go over and check on him to see if he was alright.
Being created in my image and likeness requires you to stand in the gap for those who need support and help to carry the burdens when they are too weak to do so. Sometimes, nurturing simply provides encouragement or protection when life causes them to be tossed to and fro.
The words spilling into my mind cause tears to fall and my breath to hitch from the intense and overwhelming sense of unexplainable pain that hits me out of nowhere. When the introduction for the next song starts playing, the urge to weep uncontrollably increases the flow of tears.
?
We exalt Thee, we exalt Thee, we exalt Thee, O Lord.
?
While gifted, this artist is also broken. Many haven't taken the time to pray for her. Oftentimes, people judge more than they encourage or pray. Yet, in times of distress, obstacles, or when they fall short of My glory, prayer is best. Like Leandria, Asaiah doesn't need your judgment. He needs your intercession.
The statements about Leandria Johnson, whose voice is effectively ministering the lyrics of this classic song, halt my steps. The truth is that I have been casting judgment where Leandria Johnson is concerned after seeing multiple headlines about her issues. Yet, it's hypocritical of me because none of us in this world are perfect, and instead of judging her, I definitely should be praying. While my faults haven't been broadcast for the world to see, I'm not faultless or blameless in committing sin.
All have sinned and come short of My glory. Yet, My grace is sufficient.
"Forgive me, oh God," I whisper before wiping my face and resuming my walk.
* * *
God, can you lead and guide my tongue in the event I run into Asaiah again? I heard you and want to provide him with a listening ear. The storm clouds within Asaiah's eyes let me know that he needs a friend if nothing else. Help me be a friend, even if it's all I can be for him.
"Had I known you weren't going to be much company, I would have let my sister come with me," Jarielle says.
I had barely walked in my front door when Jarielle called, asking me to meet her at the mall to shop for her upcoming trip. My mind has been stuck on the information God gave me regarding Asaiah, making it difficult to think about anything else.
"I'm sorry. What about this?" I ask, holding a short midi dress that would complement her slim-thick body perfectly.
"Ooh. I love this and know Brent will enjoy seeing me in it."
Putting my thoughts and feelings on the back burner, I focus on this time with my bestie.
"I know. Make sure you send me pictures pre-dinner because I don't want to see the aftermath of Brent's destruction," I say, winking.
Seeing the glow on Jarielle's face makes me slightly envious of her marriage and happiness. In times like these, I miss Roy and the comfort of having a man to gloat about. While being single isn't a consolation prize for Roy's betrayal, I do miss the ability to shop for garments to wear on dates with my man.
"What do you think about online dating?" I ask.
"What do you think about waking up in Hell?" Jarielle counters without hesitation, giving me an intense look.
Wrinkles stretch across my forehead, and my nose twists from Jarielle's outlandish question on the heels of mine.
"Why would I be waking up dead and in Hell, of all places?"
"Don't act like you don't watch Lifetime. Just last week, I was watching a movie where this woman met this man online who seemed like the perfect guy. It turns out he had a thing for sleeping with women after he mutilated and desecrated their bodies. One of the women he talked into giving him a chance had recently gone through a breakup after giving birth to her baby," Jarielle says with her brows hiking.
"You do know those stories aren't real, right? You also haven't given me any context for why I would wake up in Hell."
Jarielle rolls her eyes, causing a slight smirk on my lips while I wait for her to provide me with more details.
"Girl, bye. Lifetime be knowing. Your gullible ass would wake up in Hell for disobeying God's word. You're not supposed to be seeking a man. Your job is to trust God and wait for Him to send the man to you."
Proverbs 18:22.
It is easy for Jarielle to paraphrase the scripture that my conscience reminds me of while standing in this store shopping for attire for her honeymoon. She doesn't have a clue what it's like to still allow Rosalie to hum and vibrate her through the dark nights of singlehood.
Yes, I named my Rose toy. Since she and I are intimate, it's only right that we also be on a first-name basis.
While some folks in my church might frown about me having Rosalie, I think it's a safe way not to drop my cookie low and spread it wide for every Solomon, David, or Goliath who smiles in my direction. Plastering on the smile I don't feel or allow to reach my eyes, I pick up another dress that will be perfect for Jarielle.
Proverbs 18:22, even when it looks like it's not gonna happen. Activate your mustard seed faith over the situation.
"Why don't you try this one on? While I think it's cute, I need to see it on you to confirm if it's fitting for this trip or not," I suggest, ignoring the scripture repeat and mandate to accompany it.
"Hm. I see you trying to change the subject, but make sure you remember my words when you're at home with the Facebook dating page up on your screen."
Hm, with the hormones I'm suppressing, I'm not sure if your threat is the warning you think it is, bestie.
"Whatever," I respond to Jarielle's retreating back.
With my gaze on the rack, I search through the options mindlessly when my mind conjures up an image of Asaiah. Being near him alone in that elevator made me envision his face after showering and lying in my bed that night. The many ways I thought about him being the one to pleasure me had Rosalie working overtime. The remnants of my multiple orgasms had been enough to make a nun blush.
Forget the nun. I don't recall you repenting after cussing like you've been living on a Navy boat for two years.
My face and neck heat from the memory of how deep in the weeds I got while pleasuring myself while calling out Asaiah's name like he was in the bed with me. Even after releasing enough nectar to fill a pie crust, I still had to take a cold shower to cool down.
Now, God, I know I have no right to ask you for any favors, but if it be your will, can you move expeditiously with the man you have purposed for me?
* * *
It has been a long and exhausting day with multiple incoming patients requiring X-rays to keep me and my co-worker hopping. The kicker is that we both had to eat on the fly, which made me appreciate the packed lunch I had or might not have been able to eat. The bad thing is that I had to clench my thighs while consuming the repeat meal of what I fed Asaiah while we were stuck in that elevator. The memory of Asaiah's lips while chewing the bite I fed him had me imagining other places I would enjoy Asaiah's mouth. The beads of sweat on my forehead had been embarrassing when my co-worker had taken notice while trying to find out the cause when the office was an icebox. The last thing Judy needed to know was that my pearl was juicing and should be on ice.
Thankfully, this work day has come to?—
Asaiah.
My brain whispers when my eyes zoom in on Asaiah entering the hospital with a glower on his handsome face. The wrinkles on his forehead stretch wide across the surface, and his lips move, causing me to assess him until the white earpiece becomes visible.
I wonder who he's talking to because whoever it is isn't saying anything of merit if he's looking like that.
Feeling something magnetic and unexplainable, I head toward Asaiah while continuing to watch him intently. Asaiah's eyes connect with mine, preventing another collision between us while halting his forward motion.
"Uh, let me call you right back. Mhm. Five minutes," Asaiah says to whoever is on his line.
"I'm starting to think this is divine intervention," I comment, smirking when Asaiah taps the earpiece, letting me know the call has ended.
"Or maybe we've just been in the right place at the right time. How are you doing, Ms. Onesti?" Asaiah's words pour over me like toffee on a warm cake, causing my pearl to dance happily.
"Better since I'm done for the day. How about you?"
"Juggling a lot, if I'm being honest." Those storm clouds within his eyes are more defined, making me throw caution to the wind to put myself out there.
"I've been told I'm a great listener. I know you have to return the call I interrupted, but I can delay my exit if you want to grab a cup of coffee… my treat."
Well, dang, girl. Slow down, speedy.
Silence stretches between us while our eyes communicate a conversation my brain isn't able to comprehend or articulate.
"I'm kind of in a rush, but how about you give me your number, and I call you to set something up?"
Oh my God! Oh my God! Grab your phone. Grab your phone. Asaiah just asked for your number.
My conscience yells, and my heart rate increases while I bite my bottom lip. Unconsciously, I remove my phone from the front pocket of my purse and unlock it before passing it to Asaiah to?—
"Oh shoot. You wanted my number. Sorry," I say, pulling the phone back.
A sly smirk creeps on Asaiah's lips before he removes his phone from his pocket, and his gaze lands on me in expectation.
"Um… 380-219-9405," I recite with my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
"Got it. I gotta run, but I'll be in touch soon. Enjoy the remainder of your day, Ms. Onesti." With that, Asaiah walks away, leaving me to close my eyes, enjoying his lingering cologne's woodsy aroma.
Okay, God, scratch my request from a few days ago. If you bless me with that man, I'll forever be grateful.