Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Twenty years ago, the pastor of an inner-city church in Cincinnati felt the call of God to accept an offer from another congregation in Florida. Two African-American women, unwed mothers (in as much as I know about their personal history) followed him somehow, kids and all, Shirley big and bold with a voice and spirit that took worship into a merger with Him, Quintine smaller in stature, wider in girth, but whose song also connected with the Holy Ghost. Strange as it seemed to me that people could just abandon family and ties on almost a moment's notice, both would prove to be, not just valuable assets to Dan and Cathy's ministry, but trusted friends who stuck with them through thick and thin. Shirley would marry, her health at the present restricting her somewhat in what she can bring to a service. Quintina passed, last summer, cancer taking her much too quickly. After two decades of no contact whatsoever, though, a horde of relatives immediately arrived from out of town demanding their wishes be met in all things, the church to provide all expenses including a large sum of money to ease their grief. That never happened. In finality, the "extortionists" would withdraw and return home, those who knew her best sharing in giving honor to that one held intheir heart. There is, in spite of the truth that the ecclesiastical community doesn't always equate to a perfect reflection of Christ "in" me, a "tie that binds", a promise of "yea though I walk through the valley of death", we are not alone in Him. This I have found to be true......
Posted by Jim at 8:31 AM