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Authors: Pat G'Orge-Walker

No Ordinary Noel

BOOK: No Ordinary Noel
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Also by Pat G'Orge-Walker
Don't Blame the Devil
Somebody's Sinning in My Bed
Somewhat Saved
Cruisin' on Desperation
Mother Eternal Ann Everlastin's Dead
Sister Betty! God's Calling You, Again!
 
 
Published by Dafina Books
No Ordinary Noel
Pat G'Orge-Walker
Kensington Publishing Corp.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
More than two thousand years ago, three Wise Men came from the Far East. They traveled to Bethlehem bearing gifts for the baby Jesus who lay in a manger.
Man and beast, far and wide, celebrated.
Trustee Freddie Noel also came from the East: New York City's Harlem bearing a “tainted” gift for his beloved church.
His pastor tried to beat him like a Mexican piñata.
 
 
Enjoy and Happy Holidays!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life
John 3:16
 
On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.
I remain sustained by prayers and support from those who've become too numerous to name. I thank them all.
I also thank with all my heart and my love, Robert—my best friend and husband. Also my beautiful children: Gizel Dan-Yette, Ingrid, and Marisa along with my grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. A special mention for the birth of my latest great-granddaughter, Honestee Navaeh.
I am eternally grateful to my bishop John L. Smith and Lady Laura L. Smith of the St. Paul Baptist Tabernacle of Lights Ministry, and to that congregation, Reverend Stella Mercado and the Blanche Memorial Church family, and other numerous, supportive churches and organizations.
Deep gratitude and appreciation to my editor Selena James and the Dafina/Kensington Books family; long-time friend and attorney, Christopher R. Whent, Esq.; publicist Ella Curry (EDC Creations); and Yolanda LaToya Gore—a lovely woman who formed the Sister Betty Fan Club on Facebook.
Without a doubt, thanks to my offline readers and supporters, as well as my Facebook family of readers, friends, numerous book clubs, and so many fellow authors who share prayers, encouragement, and wonderful virtual hugs. Of course, I must thank the woman who makes my phenomenal promotional items, Debra “Simply Said” Owsley.
A special thank you to Doctors Colin Powers and Sandford Dubner.
A Special Message from the Author
Finally, it's been more than thirty-five years since I created Sister Betty. I've grown with this phenomenal imaginary Super Saint; laughed and cried and gotten paid. This old imaginary Super Saint has taken me places and heights I never imagined. I thank God for His trust when He placed her in my hands—I pray I never let Him down.
Chapter 1
F
or the past eight years, Reverend Leotis Tom pastored full time at Pelzer, South Carolina's Crossing Over Sanctuary church. From the moment he laid his right hand upon the Bible and promised to lead the church to holiness, he'd battled one church mess after another against the Devil and, quite often, against his congregation. The besieged reverend fasted so much for peace he hadn't gained an ounce since he accepted his position.
He'd been only thirty-three years old when installed, and so fresh out of divinity college that he'd actually believed all he needed was a few words of “thus saith the Lord” scriptures and folks would fall in line; and with a touch of his anointed hands, he expected them to fall out, too. With his youthful ignorance he'd taken the helm, but not without controversy.
When the reverend's name first came up there was concern from one of the few remaining founding members of the church. Mother Sasha Pray Onn was in her late sixties and a tad bit neurotic. Widowed by choice was the rumor, although never proven. She'd always been the go-to church mother, the keeper of the church gossip-laced politics and all things that made the church's sanctified bus ride hazardous.
On the day when the reverend's name was laid on the sacrificial altar for pastorate, Mother Pray Onn had issues. Fired up, she had left subtlety behind and was chained to her seat in the first pew.
“He ain't been seasoned enough with trials and tribulations and some hawt church mess!” she warned. “We need a Man of God who can take a punch from ole Satan and then knows how to pray that demon back to hell without getting the church scorched! I'm telling ya, that baby preacher y'all are considering, well he ain't that man!”
The Church Board never took into consideration the old church mother might've known of which she spoke. After all, Sasha Pray Onn and her entire Hellraiser clan were Satan's first cousins, although they didn't brag about it a lot. Nevertheless, the Church Board took a risk and for the first time ignored Mother Sasha Pray Onn. It wasn't much of a risk. The old woman, by that time, had gone on a cruise.
Without the sanction of the other twenty-eleven boards, the Church Board invited the very handsome, six-foot-five Reverend Leotis Tom from nearby Anderson, South Carolina, with the ink still wet on his graduation parchment, to “bring the word.” They'd also made sure it was for the fifth Sunday service. Back then and even now, folks set a limit on attending church more than four Sundays a month. Fifth Sunday remains the safest for church politics.
Even as naïve as Leotis Tom was then, he still knew that an invitation was really an audition.
When the day came, he'd arrived without a visiting preacher's usual church posse. There was no armor bearer to walk him up the three steps into the pulpit. He looked almost church-naked without some middle-aged nurse to wipe his brow or two or three Mothers to sit in the first pew and hype him and the congregation into a frenzy. Reverend Tom didn't even have a young minister-in-training to carry his Bible and his robe. Instead, he came prepared with faith and a vision from the Lord.
That Sunday morning, he'd stood at the pulpit, dressed in a black and purple, short-sleeved robe, with a modest gold cross stitched across the breastbone. His dark unruly hair was cut short. Whether on purpose or not his pecan brown muscles rippled, making his arms resemble the back of an alligator's tail splashing about.
Most folks probably couldn't remember what Reverend Tom preached that morning but the consensus was unanimous. The reverend was what the women folks and even some of the shameless men called, “hawt spiritual eye-candy who knew a little sumpthin' about the Word.” The fact that the young man was single suddenly was in his favor, and most hoped that he'd never marry—unless it was to one of them.
That morning, the church's outgoing pastor, the Jheri curled and overweight Reverend Knott Enuff Money could only marinate in envy. All the time he'd been single and pastoring, he'd had to fight off the gay and the bi rumors. Reverend Tom came to church with muscular arms and no mention of a wife or a girlfriend and the congregation appeared to lose its mind.
Soon after, the conversation got around again to the urgency of selecting a pastor to take the place of Reverend Knott Enuff Money.
“We can't keep putting off getting a new pastor,” one board member pointed out after learning Reverend Tom had an open invitation to preach at another local church. “I suggest we hire him immediately.”
The naysayers who attended only a few services and even less board meetings usually did what they were supposed to do when it came time to confirm anything, by saying, “No,” and “Hell No!” But that time, even they went with the program, and voted on a few limitations to put into his contract should he accept their offer. They kept it simple. They'd wanted shorter sermons during football and baseball seasons, and no evening service on the night of the Stella Awards.
With agreement in place on how to regulate the pastor's preaching schedule, they hired Reverend Leotis Tom and hoped for the best. They also hoped Mother Pray Onn had a good time on her cruise because she would raise hell upon her return.
The installation service was a grand affair. Churches, big and small, bishops and pastors, the saved and the unsavory were all invited. The Reverend Leotis Tom received many accolades, and large sums of cash; someone had warned him not to accept checks unless he was prepared to pay return check fees.
The food was first rate. Several overweight sisters hit that kitchen and anointed the oven. They cooked a feast big enough to feed a third world country. Of course, the auspicious event had local newspaper and television coverage. The video would be sold during a few upcoming conferences.
There was no doubt that Crossing Over Sanctuary had a new star. Everything was wonderful until later on that evening when the young preacher rose to say a few words.
The Reverend Leotis Tom gave the customary thank you and his vision for the church and community. Then he made a promise that set everyone on notice.
“There will be no politics inside the church or outside the church. Politicians are welcome to worship, but they will not receive special favors. We will not gamble on our salvation with unholy alliances and that includes gambling of any kind. God doesn't want nor will He accept tainted money or favors!”
But that was then.
BOOK: No Ordinary Noel
10.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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