And the Prayer List Gets Longer - Episode 26

The air became alive. This was big time stuff.

“We are talking about things happening right here in our town that could have national and global consequences. It’s not just the big cities that are being affected you know,” she said as she methodically looked at each member. “Where do you think terrorists and communists are going to set up their surveillance systems?”

All the wide-eyed members shook their heads.

“Right here, in our quiet out of the way, sleepy town. It’s where they can go undetected. You all know me and know I am not one to mention names,” she said. One by one, the members thought back to her many wild accusations in the past.

Glenda continued, “There have been a few new license tags spotted in the community, and our outlying woods are the perfect place for those kind of people to gather. And again, I don’t want to talk about other people, but let’s discuss the Zukerman’s frequent trips out of town. They’ve been members of this community for over five years now and have yet to join our church, or any church for that matter. Why is it that they stay to themselves so much?”

Only Aunt Birdie knew the history of Jay and Thelma Zukerman. She sadly shook her head as she remembered the delightful day she had spent with the two of them. As they had sat in his flower-laden dining room and had tea, Jay had related his past history to her, along with the testimony of his life. He had been a devoted pastor for many years.  The strain of parish committees and the long arm of the denominational deity had strangled any hopes and dreams he had of making a difference in peoples lives.

A humble man before the Lord, he finally had concluded that the best way he could serve the Lord was to quietly wrestle the forces of hell on his knees, in the holy sanctity of his home or in his shop, surrounded by his beloved flowers.

And Thelma…what a prayer warrior. She was always the one to bake a cake or send a card to someone who was in need of a touch from the Lord. Twice a week, it was Thelma who visited the nursing home and read scriptures to the tired old forgotten souls of the town.

Glenda’s raspy voice pulled Aunt Birdie back into the present. “And the Chamber is also questioning the fact that maybe Joe Crocker isn’t up to speed as to what he needs to be looking for. He may be the sheriff, but the most complicated issue he has ever had to deal with was when they changed the boundary lines of Carington and he couldn’t figure out if the McNappy twins were caught drinking in this county or not.”

A series of amen’s followed her discourse. That was all the fuel she needed.

“And you all know that Debbie Kettermen sits on the school board and she said that Carly Sutton has been stirring up some trouble at the elementary school.”

Now the mere mention of Carly Sutton agitated the women. Carly was Carington’s first grade school teacher and she was prettier than a magnolia in bloom.   Her lean, tanned legs set every hen in town to pecking on her. Being twenty-six and single, also added to her lack of popularity. Carly had tawny freckles that spattered over her dainty nose, which unfortunately only enhanced her green eyes, making every female in town envious. To top it all off, she could be found jogging the dusty streets of Carington every morning at 6:15 AM sharp, and every male in town eagerly awaited her arrival. Pink running shorts and crisp white bobby socks enhanced her tight rear and shapely thighs, and a short middie defined her jiggling upper torso.

You could always tell where Carly had passed because she left a trail of coffee grown cold, discarded newspapers, eggs dried on old stoneware plates and cigarettes with burnt out ashes dangling on them.  The men were transfixed for a time, as memories carried them back to forgotten youths, and for this there was no forgiveness. Most anything else could be overlooked if the offender gave peace offerings of sweet smelling lotions or gaily wrapped potted plants, but beauty and youth caused a giant chasm, which no one could breach.

“Well what has she been up to now?” asked Diana Osterling, whose husband was one of the guilty ones that had taken to having his morning coffee at Cornbread Corner instead of the house, just so he could ogle the swift siren as she sped past the café.

Glenda tapped her Bible and folded her hands. “She has brought a request before the school board for the removal of the flag. Can you believe that? The American flag! I don’t know what they believe over there at Trinity, but we can’t allow this kind of thing to start. It’s just an example of what is going on and why we at the Chamber of Commerce thought there was a need to start our own Homeland Security committee.”

Now Carly had indeed questioned the flag, but as always, Glenda had not heard the entire request, nor the reason for it. The flagpole had been erected years ago and with the new school renovation, it was interfering with the drainpipes for the new plumbing system. Her request had been to move the flag, not to remove it.

(Stay tuned for the next episode)

A Cool Wind or Hot Air? - Episode 25

“Well I’d like us all to bow our heads and wait on the spirit,” Josey said in a hushed voice. She knew this would cause a stir, since they didn’t often call upon the spirit unless there was a big job that needed immediate prayer.

Now, all eyes were upon her, which is where she wanted them. To draw the suspense out a little longer, Josey appeared to riffle through her Bible. When she knew she had everyone’s attention, she licked her lips, folded her manicured hands and raised her eyes upward.

“Lord, now You know we are not here to judge, we are here to help those in need. If that means calling down fire and brimstone to bring correction, then that’s what we have to do, for the good of the soul. And since this involves someone of the clergy, we know what a heavy burden we carry in praying for the deliverance and correction of those you send to lead us.”

Now Josey knew she had them intrigued. Though their heads were bowed, they were fairly twitching, in anticipation of the name she would reveal.

“Lord, as head of the prayer group I know you let me see a lot of things others don’t, since this is the only way I would know how to pray for these lost souls. Right now I lift up Mandy Brennan to you.” She waited for a second as she saw all the obedient heads nod in unison.

“Yes Lord,” they all recited.

“Now I don’t want to go into it that much Lord, because You know what I am referring to. But Lord, we all know drinking is lascivious behavior and one that is not looked at lightly by You, especially for the wife of a man of the cloth. Help her dear Lord and bring her deliverance from this addiction. Thank you for allowing me to be a vessel of honor before You. And thank you for giving me eyes to see, so I can bring special needs to this prayer group. We pray Lord, just show her the errors of her ways. And her, with two little children,” she whispered, as she shook her head and tsk’d tsk’d.

Josey really believed that without the intervention of the prayer group, Carington just could not survive. In her mind, if the weekly prayer warriors did not assemble themselves and run interference for all the sinners in town, Carington would be destroyed like Sodom and Gomorra of old.

As if on cue, strains of “Bringing in the Sheaths” crept through the closed door, reminding all who were present that it was their job to gather all the lost, and present them clean and spotless before the Lord. A new sense of urgency welled up in Josey as music filled the air around her.

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

“What?” the members softly gasped.

“That cold wind. Be real quiet now, I believe it’s the spirit. Remember the Bible talks about the mighty wind coming in while they were all praying. Be real still now, so we don’t go and chase it off.”

Unbeknownst to Josey, Percy Putnum had slipped in the door to adjust the air conditioner thermostat. He’d had complaints about the size of the church’s electric bill, but he believed that if they would just replace the old model for a more efficient one, then the money problems would be solved.

Mertis could not hold back the sneeze that erupted.

“Now look at that, it’s gone,” Josey said, shaking her head as the cool blast was replaced with a dank smelling stillness.

Percy silently let himself out the door and braced himself against the wall as he laughed. Finally he had found an avenue for his old Army skills. He was quite amazed that he still had it in him to stealthily enter areas and leave without making a sound.

“Lord,” he prayed, between his laughter, “if that’s the best You’ve got for prayer warriors, we’re in trouble down here. I think we’d do better with that talking mule Nehemiah was on.”

Glenda Jackson sat on the Chamber of Commerce board and always had a wealth of information as to what was happening on the political side of things. When she spoke, everyone was quiet. She hurriedly opened her eyes to see what everyone else was doing, and saw that all eyes were still closed. Probably waiting for the return of the spirit, she thought sarcastically.

She cleared her throat. “Lord, we come before you, a group of women devoted to serving You and our community. We accept the responsibility You have given us and relish the opportunity to be a vital part of bringing change to the lives of those around us. There is a little issue that is causing strife in our community, and I would like to lift it up to you before it hits the Buzz Bee.”

Now she had the curiosity of the group. Anything important enough to get in the paper was their concern, and rightly so. They felt they should be made aware of all matters, prior to any of the other town’s people. Glenda waited just long enough to create some additional suspense, and when she felt the members would surely pop from anticipation, she began again.

“We have formed our own Homeland Security committee right here in Carington.”

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Prayer Requests or Picked Over Lives? - Episode 24

The room was silent as each woman struggled within herself. They all had so many needs, but they also knew, to verbally tell this group was like taking an ad out in the Buzz Bee paper. So they continued alone, week after week in their own private hells, struggling with the details of life, and the isolation of having no one to talk to. It was really very comical. Here they all religiously gathered every week to pray and reach the heart of God, yet no one felt enough trust within the group to ask for help. So as always, they projected their prayers outside of their own lives, and set about bringing order to those in Carington who needed a dose of the spirit to bring them to their knees.

They kept an ongoing list of their targets. As long as the list continued to grow, the member’s fiery tongues were averted from lashing out at their own individual secret demons. They called out names of local residents they had seen or heard of committing some kind of sin, and woe be onto that person who landed on their prestigious list. With all their holy power, the group had no doubt that Michael the Arc angel himself would make a guest appearance at the home of whoever graced their list that week.

One by one, people’s private lives were openly discussed, as the committee decided on what would be the best way for the Lord to bring correction to the misguided souls. This week was no different as the women raised their voices to heaven, though unbeknownst to them, their prayers were so laden down with judgment, they never went any higher than the yellowed cottage cheese ceiling.

“Well I don’t know about you all, but I am concerned about Karen Foster. Why is it that the pastor’s wife doesn’t attend these prayer meetings? It just doesn’t seem right, and the whole town is talking about it. I think we need to ask the Lord to convict her. She just can’t seem to see the error of her ways,” stated Tootsie, as she remembered how Karen had treated her that morning.

“Amen, Amen,” murmured all the women.

Aunt Birdie always sat at the end of the table with her old gnarled hands quietly folded. As a child, her waif like appearance had earned her the nickname Birdie and it had stuck, but it was her daily feedings of wandering geese that conjugated in her backyard that had carried the name along. The women liked to discount her presence. Long ago they had labeled her an old timer, one who couldn’t quite keep up to speed with the changes that had been enacted in the church over the last forty years. Since her life was as dented and crinkled as the pages of her old Bible, they had chalked up her hard life as one who had some hidden sin. Otherwise, what excuse could there be for one who so faithfully followed the Lord? Got to be hidden sin somewhere, they thought.

Her eighty-seven years were as disposable as a baby’s diaper and just as offensive. Her weekly attendance was a constant reminder to the group of what was in store for them all as they silently examined her wrinkled skin, her Mrs. Magoo eyesight, and her white, receding hairline…and the members didn’t like it. They overlooked her prim, freshly starched lace collars, dainty cameo broaches and sweet gray eyes, but more importantly, they overlooked her standing with the Lord.

If anyone could open heaven’s doors, it was Aunt Birdie. Her arthritic knees had worn away the shellac on her old pine wood floors alongside her bed, as she sought His voice and direction for her beloved Carington. She didn’t take to talking about others, and surely did not approve of gossip, which is what the weekly prayer meetings had turned into. Still, she came as regular as the postal service, always delivering some kind of good news to the group.

“Well I wanted to thank the Lord for another beautiful day,” she said. Several of the women rolled their eyes at each other and took turns acknowledging her comment, as if she were a child.

“Yes Aunt Birdie. Forgive us, we were dealing with more important items, but yes, it was a beautiful day,” Josey said, giving Tootsie a nudge.

“Oh Lord yes,” piped in Tootsie, “such a pretty day, which is why I can’t figure out why in the world Bloomers wasn’t open today. I wanted to get some of those yellow daisies for my flower boxes and when I drove by, they were closed again. I think the Zukerman’s are having some marital problems, and from what I’ve heard, we need to pray for them. Seems Jay has gotten a roving eye, and Thelma is too busy watching those day time soap operas to notice.”

Aunt Birdie shook her head and jotted down the Zukerman’s name to pray for. She knew they were on a well-deserved vacation, and if she didn’t send up some prayers on their behalf, waggling tongues would spew seeds of destruction around town that would overtake the beautiful life they had created together.

Josey was literally vibrating from the news she was trying to contain, so as to present the “hot flash” as a prayer request, versus just gossip, which would incur a lifted eyebrow from Aunt Birdie. Finally she could not hold it one more minute and she didn’t want Glenda stealing her limelight with other trivial items.

Stay tuned for the next episode!

Symphonies and Silent Prayer - Episode 23

Dusk was falling on Carington. Lights slowly lit up the quaint little town as children wandered home for dinner, fathers plopped down into recliners and mothers bustled around kitchens. Cornbread Corner was serving chicken and dumplings and the cars parked out front signified there was a crowd tonight. One of the streetlights hummed as it tried to turn itself on and crickets began their evening symphony.

From Carington Heights church, a rainbow prism overflowed from the lit stained glass windows and spilled onto the street. As the women gathered for their weekly prayer meeting, the dank halls of the church became alive with chattering voices.

The first to arrive, Tootsie huffed and puffed as she strategically arranged chairs around the table. Mertis hesitantly entered the room and quietly placed her Bible upon the table.

“Well how you doing Mertis?” Tootsie asked, as she stopped to catch her breath. “I swear, I am going to have a talk with Pastor Foster about these kids. Why is it that they cannot replace these chairs like they found them? Every Tuesday I have to come in here and put this whole room in order. The teens need to find another night to meet on. Anyway, from the sounds of the music I hear coming out of this building, I think they are conjuring up the devil himself. Rock and roll, hippity hop, chanting. I never heard the likes when I was a kid. Bringing in the Sheaths always brought in the Lord for us. Don’t know how that head bopping music they play, can bring in anything, except trouble.”

Mertis sat down and closed her eyes. The old church brought back good memories. She drew comfort from the familiar smells of paste, tempera paint and Spic N Span. The cracked old linoleum had been washed so many times, it edges had curled up along the baseboards and the dim florescent lights flickered, as they cast an artificial light on the crayoned pictures, thumb-tacked to the paneled walls.

“Mertis, hello honey. You still with us?” Tootsie asked, as she placed a large platter of brownies on the table. “Didn’t know if you were praying to the Lord or doing that new fangled meditation. You know they say that is of the devil.”

Mertis shook her head, her dull blue eyes, misting over. “I was just remembering back to when we were kids and the church held that fundraiser for this old linoleum. Do you remember? Where have the years gone?”

She was interrupted as the women converged on the two of them. Greetings were exchanged and coffee cups filled, in anticipation of the meeting. The only one missing was Josey. As Glenda Jackson passed around the sign up sheet, everyone drug out their notebooks and pens, filled their plates with goodies and caught up on the local news.

Josey took a final drag of her cigarette as she raced into the parking lot. Late again. She stomped on the cigarette butt, slammed the car door, jammed her Bible into her tote bag and gave a final smack to her lips. Her heels resounded across the street as she sauntered up the walkway.

“Well hello ladies,” she called, as she made her way to the empty chair at the head of the table. “Tootsie, can you grab me a cup of coffee hon?” she asked, as she pulled a legal pad out of her bag.

She folded her hands and bowed her head and couldn’t help but notice that several of the women had new hairdos and manicured nails, and she knew it hadn’t been done in her shop. Well what goes around, comes around, she thought, as she made it a point to change some of her own shopping habits. She’d be darned if she was going to give them her business, when they didn’t have the decency to spend money at her shop.

“Ladies, let’s start with some silent prayer. Now the good Lord knows we are all gathered here tonight and if He wants something done, He will let us know.”

As the women bowed their heads, their minds were on everything but prayer. Not to mention that not one of them actually knew what a “silent prayer” was. The ambiance of holiness was disrupted as the old air conditioner coughed and a cell phone rang. Josey looked up and her keen eyes spotted Glenda hastily turning her phone off.

“Ladies, how many times have I asked you to turn off those things before you come into the house of the Lord? Just remember, if you can’t give Him a few minutes of your time, then He’ll be too busy for you.”

Glenda gave Josey an evil eye as she placed the phone in her purse. She was bound and determined to talk to Pastor Foster about this rotation deal for the prayer group leaders. Josey was the perfect example she needed, to prove her case as to why not all were called to lead.

Josey waited until she felt the presence of the Lord. Little did she know that the presence she felt, was really a downward draft from the air conditioning vent over her head. Once she felt that gentle whoosh, she knew it was time to begin.

“Who wants to start?” she asked.

Stay tuned for the next episode!