46
KING
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Sunday morning, we are in the middle of rehearsal. Brother Kenny stands up front leading the choir, his voice strong as he calls out directions for the song.
I sit behind the drums, sticks in my hands, keeping the rhythm tight, hi-hat ticking steady, bass drum thumping low and controlled. The ushers begin coming through the side doors, getting into position.
Then I see her.
Erica stumbles in through the back entrance, clearly trying to hurry so she isn't late for her helper duties.
She looks a little awkward, adjusting her dress as she moves.
My heart starts flying out of my chest the second my eyes land on her.
I can't help it. A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. I'm happy to see her.
Way happier than I have any right to be.
People start filtering into the large sanctuary, voices murmuring as they find their seats.
Erica moves along the side aisles with the other ushers and helpers, handing out pamphlets, smiling politely, pointing people toward open rows. She isn't one of the main ushers, just a helper, but she stays nearer to the front.
There are a few seats reserved along the walls for the ushers and helpers too, and that's where she eventually settles.
Even while I play, keeping perfect time with the band, my eyes keep drifting to her. Every now and again she glances my way, then quickly looks away, like she is purposely forcing herself not to stare. It makes something in my stomach flutter.
Pastor Darrian steps up to the pulpit once the worship portion ends. The sermon today is about submitting fully to God and letting go of earthly distractions and material things.
“Turn to James 4:7,” he says, his voice carrying through the sanctuary. “‘Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.’”
The congregation quietly murmurs in agreement.
“It is hard. It is hard to live in this world. In a world where everyone is against each other. Where greed is rewarded and lying is encouraged! Where up is down and down is up.”
Some people cheer, feeling the relatability.
“But it is only hard… when we try to do it… to live in this world without God. You see the thing is, we were never meant to be separated from him. We were made FOR him and so to live in abundance we need to live FOR him. But…
“Brothers and sisters, we can not serve two masters. We come on Sunday and pretend we weren’t wilding throughout the week and playing in the face of our Savior who trusts us to be good stewards.”
“And then we turn around and ask him to bless us.
We're feeding the neverending belly of the enemy.
With our best food. With our time. With our bodies.
With our talents. We talk a big game to God Almighty about how we're going to be good for him and live for him.
And then we're in bed with the Enemy. So…
We cannot serve two Masters. It's either we're with God or we're not.
You cannot just live as Christians in name and not an action.
We have to lay down the things of this world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, the pride of life.
1 John 2:15-17 tells us, ‘Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them.’ And it's a challenge I know it is. And you guys are all quiet because the truth hurts. The truth is hard. But God gave us specific instructions in his word,” Brother Darrian says, pointing at his bible, then holding it up for everyone to see.
“We must crucify our flesh daily if we want to walk in the Spirit.”
I try to take it all in.
I really do.
I’m seated up front with the rest of the musicians, Aaliyah positioned to my right. At one point, I incline my head slightly, feigning a glance behind me. A girl sitting a few rows back catches my eye; she smiles and blushes.
I'm hardly aware of her, though. My gaze cuts straight past her to Erica, who is stationed along the wall, a church Bible spread across her lap as if she were diligently following the service. I'm not sure if she is actually reading or just pretending. Either way, she surprises me.
The thing that really surprises me is the fact that she stopped me that night. I'm grateful that she did; that she stopped me from sinning.
But at the same time… I'm conflicted. My body and my mind want her. My spirit is hungry for God, desperate not to fall out of His good graces. Yet the “what if” keeps whispering.
I'm supposed to be focused on the sermon, but Erica looks so pretty today.
She is wearing a simple white dress that falls just past her knees, modest and graceful.
Over it she has on a thin, longer-sleeve sweater with buttons at the front, a few left open at the top.
Her dreadlocks are tied into two neat little buns on top of her head, and she has just a touch of lipstick on.
She looks…
… absolutely divine.
Even while I try to keep my eyes locked on Pastor Darrian, there's this never-ending pull, this magnetic urge to turn my head to the right and look over my shoulder at her.
It's aggravating, honestly. My eyes stay forward, but my entire mind and attention are behind me, where Erica sits.
I wonder if she's really paying attention.
For a split second I even think about texting her to make sure she isn't on her phone, then immediately feel stupid. I never text in church.
My phone is usually off, or at least on silent.
For the first time in a long time, the sermon feels like it lasts forever.