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“God’s blessing is keeping his hands on you, covering you even while you are out there selling your soul. You’ve never had one disease in a world where AIDs and HIV are still prevalent. The conviction your feeling is God, and the war some of you are fighting in your sleep is the enemy. God is trying to save you and call you to peace and righteousness. Sacrifice all these worldly riches and accolades. Ask yourself - what profits a man to gain the world but lose his soul? What have you gained living the way you do? Do you have peace? Do you have love? Do you have vision? When I was in the streets, all I saw were the streets. My vision was small and my understanding had me thinking that I’m the man.” He clapped his hand and hopped around.
“You know what I gained by being in the streets? Stress, always feeling like someone is after me, a looming constant danger over my life and the lives of my loved ones. I had no peace. That was a foreign concept to me. I had love, yes, but it came with hardships. Sacrifices that weren’t equal.” He slowed his walking, took a set on the first step, and waited until the church got quiet and the members seated.
“I miss it. I won’t lie because I do. I miss the adrenaline, but that’s it. Two years straight, I went to a funeral every weekend. That’s over a hundred people close to me dying. Friends, guys I grew up with. Men on my payroll. Relatives. Every time I prepared my heart to heal from mourning, it was breaking again. I had no peace. I had no more tears to shed, I became numb. It wasn’t easy walking away from everything I had ever known. Sometimes I was Lot’s wife constantly looking back. Mourning my old life until God asked me Why don’t you trust me with your future like you trusted me to keep you alive in your past?” The church got crunk all over again. Some running around. Some crying and shouting.
All I could do was sit there with a big ass smile on my face. I felt joy and happiness. These people’s worship was contagious, and I loved sitting in the midst of it. Contrary to how I lived my life, I found peace in the presence of God.
“So many of you think that you can’t be successful living right with God. Who in the hell told you that lie? I’ve never seen the righteous forsaken. Never. Success God’s way doesn’t come with tarnishing your image or selling yourself. It comes with peace, clarity, and longevity. Trust me, I know. I’m rich in favor. Rich in peace. Rich in the flexibility of my limbs. I’m rich in having a sane mind. Glory be to God.”
People liked to say God had a sense of humor when it came to the way He aligned things to happen in your life. That’s not a sense of humor, that’s intention. I should’ve been hungover in my bed, sleeping the day away. Instead, I’m alert and here, listening to a sermon that felt very intentional to my circumstances. From the beginning of Bishop’s sermon to the end, it was all done with grave purpose. Being here sober minded was intentional by God because He needed me to hear the warning. At least that’s what I took from it.
His message was a warning, and I was uncertain of how I’d even begin adhering to it with how deeply I lived my life so far from the cross.
* * *
“Uncle Ez, can you take me to Sky Zone for my birthday?” Using me as her personal jungle gym, my nine-year-old niece Halle balanced herself on my shoulders while her ten-month-old brother, JD Jr. used my arms and chest as his drum set. After church, I spoke to my family and followed them over to my parent’s house for Sunday dinner.
My brother and I made a bet that we wouldn’t make it an hour before my dad started his usual shit. He barely acknowledged my presence at church. I was used to his disappointment. It’s been a part of my life since I got injured in college and his dreams of having a son in the NFL were destroyed. Forget about me, the one who had to physically and mentally adjust to the narrative that I’ll never play again. This man mourned and continues to mourn like my injury happened to him.
“We can go wherever you want to go.” My niece and nephew were my heart and soft spot. Unlike my dad, my brother Jeremiah never turned his back on me or allowed what I did for a living to alter his love for me. No matter how many times my dad spewed insults, his position as my brother and best friend never changed.
“One day you’re going to learn to listen to me, son. You better stop letting your daughter hang around him before she becomes a low-budget prostitute.” Ah, there it is. The first insult of the day.
“What have I told you about talking like that around my kids?” Leann, Jeremiah’s wife, came around the corner from the kitchen with her apron on, a spatula in one hand, and a bowl of whipped cream in another. “I don’t give a flying frog’s ass what Ezekiel does for a living. He will always be in my kid’s life because I made that choice. At least he knows how to separate business from personal, unlike your ass. Baby, get your daddy, ‘cause I’m getting really tired of him casting stones like he’s so holier than though. Let me go finish this pie before I end up hurting your feelings. It’s always the biggest hypocrites that got so much shit to say.” Leann was by far the least fan of my dad’s and made it her business to make it known that she didn’t like him.
Her disdain started with his lack of urgency when it came to caring for my mom. He wanted everybody to do their part but had every excuse why he couldn’t do his. The most effort he put into anything was exercising his damn gums, running off at the mouth about how much of a disgrace I was.
In all her five-foot glory and as beautiful as she could be, Leann spoke her mind. When my brother first started dating her almost fifteen years ago, I warned him that Pompano women were different. A different bread than Broward women. She graduated from Ely High School. That right there said it all. She grew up a fighter protecting those she loved. That extended to us, extended to me.
“Pick your battles, Pop.” That’s all Jeremiah said, never taking his eyes off the TV.
My mom, on the other hand, sat curled up on the couch, humming, and smiling. All of her kids and grandkids were under the same roof. That’s all she cared about. Not my dad running his mouth. All she wanted was her kids present, and we gave it to her.
“Food is ready,” Leann announced.
Since my mom got sick, the tradition of our dinners slightly changed. It went from my mom and Leann in the kitchen to Leann cooking every other Sunday and us catering the others. We made sure the places we catered from were mom’s favorite. She loved it. Looked forward to this one day all week.
My brother said grace and plates were passed. Mom sat at one end and Dad at the other. The four of us conversed while he sat there, all sour-faced. No one paid him any attention, not even his grandkids. He always tried to suck the joy out of a space but it was hard to do that when the others in the room weren’t falling for his typical bullshit.
“Oh Ezekiel, before we head to my appointment on Tuesday, do you mind picking me up a little early so we can have breakfast at Another Broken Egg? I absolutely love their biscuits and grape jelly.” My mom could have whatever her heart desired.
“Absolutely, and if you’re up to it, we can ride through Butterfly Park so you can see the new botanical garden.”
Squeezing my hand, she leaned over and I met her the rest of the way so she could kiss my cheek. “I love you, baby. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, ma.” She never had to. I loved her more than anything in this world.
“Well, since everyone is all cheerful and jolly. Let me go get dessert. I had it specially made.” We all watched my dad get up and go in the kitchen.
“I’m telling you right now, Jeremiah. If your father is up to his usual shit, I’m cussing his ass out and going home. You and your big head kids can spend the night here with him.” Leann played no games and spared my brother no foul.
“What the hell did I do?” Jeremiah knew his wife’s temper wasn’t long at all. How she managed to be a principal of a high school, I have no idea. “And why my kids gotta have big heads?”
“Look at them and look at me.” She had a point. JJ and Halle had some big heads on them and it sure wasn’t a trait they got from their mother.
My mama was so tickled. “Jeremiah, just admit it. You have a big head. I know that more than anyone. I endured hours of excruciating pain to deliver you. I can still remember the pain of having to be stitched up like it was yesterday.” She shivered, making us all laugh.
“Alright, everybody. Here it is. Shay’s infamous carrot cheesecake pie with extra pecans and whipped cream.” Dad placed the round cake on the table and everyone gasped but me. “Ezekiel, it’s your favorite. Ain’t it nice?” Overly elated, he laughed and smiled. “She says the covering of the cake is fondant. It was needed to add all the decorations I wanted. Congratulations on your awards and continued disgrace on this family, Ezekiel.”
