Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: REVIVAL (10/15/20)
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TITLE: The Tie That Binds | Previous Challenge Entry
By Debra Brand
10/21/20 -
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He imagined them entering the Sanctuary talking about dinner plans or the fight they had with their spouse on the way to church. Sarah would have the lights on and the hymn numbers posted on the front board. Had she come to terms with her husband’s passing? The hopeful façade of an eternal reunion covered the desperate loneliness that has deprived her of restful sleep.
As he put on his black preaching jacket, his hand automatically reached into the right pocket. His fingers found the piece of folded paper.
Penny would be warming up on the pipe organ. Her playing of the sharps and flats resonate through the air and join with the pent-up anger towards her straying husband. Her decades of prayers for his salvation had shattered her faith and hope. All her emotions showed as she pounded the keys and let the minors ring.
He sighed as he felt the texture of the folded paper … another reminder.
The fallen leaves on the sidewalk and porch were left for Charlie to sweep. A childhood brain injury had left him in a state of perpetual adolescence. At first glance, his stature appeared adult but his eyes, eyes were vacant. He hummed a nursery rhyme as he swept the worn bluestone steps.
The pastor didn’t need to read the note. It’d been in his pocket for twenty years. The creases threaten to quarter the paper as the aged yellowing transformed the letters illegible. Replacing the note to its hiding place, comforted by the memorized words, and he patted the pocket to make sure it was secure.
Well, Lord, here are your broken vessels. Help us. You know them all. What was it that Paul said? “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.”
He fingered the tie again … the tie of authority. It hid his insecurities and became a physical crutch. He donned his waterproof Quincy hat for a final look in the hall mirror.
He imagined the rest of the congregation arriving for fellowship with each other in the House of God but not with the God of the House. It had become a social gathering. Old Sadie will lift her cornflower blue eyes surrounded by myriads of wrinkles and peer into his eyes. He swore she knew every thought in his head and she will say, ‘You’re gonna make it, Pastor.”
May today be different, may today the altar be filled with tendered hearts and changed lives.
With a new determined look in his eye, he rushed out the door with his shoulder-length silver hair streaming out from under his hat.
The tie lay in a heap on the floor.
Romans 7:15 NASB
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