Hope Springs (38 page)

“Pastor Todd and I have been greatly encouraged and motivated by the example of these women. They've shown us not only what's
possible
here in Hope Springs but what's
preferable
. And I commend them.” Travis nodded to Sara Ann, who sat near the front. “With that backdrop we are proposing the following—that members of Calvary and New Jerusalem come together for a joint service the first Sunday of each month. We believe this will foster oneness in the community and in our hearts. We believe it will promote fellowship and love within the body, and as the world sees our love, God will be glorified. Details such as location will be worked out. For tonight we want to open up discussion on the proposal.”

Todd rejoined Travis at the podium.

“We're asking you to stand when it's your turn and state your comment or question as loudly as you can,” Travis said.

Todd pointed near the back. “Pervis Mitchell.”

Pervis, a Calvary member probably in his sixties, stood. “I want to know who would preach on that Sunday.”

His voice barely projected. Janelle only heard him because she stood near him.

Someone repeated it to Travis and Todd, and Todd repeated it for the crowd. “We thought a simple way to do it was to alternate,” Todd said.

A middle-aged woman in the middle stood before she was acknowledged.

“Go ahead, Delores,” Todd said.

“My question is about the music. Which choir would sing? And whose band would play? New Jerusalem's music hurts my ears.”

“Well, funny you say that.” A New Jerusalem woman stood. “I was about to ask the same questions, because I find Calvary's music on the boring side.”

Chatter started up within the pews. Todd and Travis looked at one another.

“Listen,” Travis said into the mic. “We knew people would have these questions, and we appreciate them. But concerns about music shouldn't override the biblical goal of unity. Amen?” He paused but got no response. “Pastor Todd and I would love to see the formation of a combined choir for the joint service. It would actually be a great thing to gain a better appreciation of each other's cultural styles and tastes.”

Two elders—one from Calvary and the other from New Jerusalem—stood together. The Calvary elder spoke first. “I was just sitting here talking with Larry, and we feel the same way. You were each brought to pastor your individual church, not to go radical and attempt to merge the two churches. We understand that you two are personal friends, but this is beyond the pale. And it should've been brought to the elder boards first.”

Todd spoke. “Willard, let me make clear that we are not proposing a merging of the churches. Calvary will remain Calvary; New Jerusalem will remain New Jerusalem. Travis and I remain pastors of our individual churches. We are simply talking about coming together as members of one body to celebrate Christ on the first Sunday of each month.”

Todd seemed to be finished but then added, “When you brought me on, you told me you were trusting God to do great things through me. I'm sure New Jerusalem felt the same regarding Travis. We believe this is one of those great things. We worship within two blocks of one another, and most of us hardly know each other between the churches. Do you not see a benefit to this from God's perspective?”

Neither elder responded but they sat back down.

Randy, a New Jerusalem member, stood. “No offense, Pastor Travis,” he said, “but I probably wouldn't come on the Sundays Pastor Todd is preaching. Just being real. I joined New Jerusalem because I like to hear
you
preach.”

Chatter erupted again as members of both congregations echoed the likelihood that they too wouldn't come if the other pastor were preaching.

Sara Ann stood amid the chatter.

Todd raised his hands. “We want to hear everyone, but one at a time, please. Sara Ann, go on.”

“I wasn't going to say anything, since I can't make Sunday service anyway because of the diner.” She spoke loudly and clearly. “But this is actually breaking my heart.” She looked into the faces of those assembled. “You all wouldn't come if the other pastor is preaching? I thought the word was from the Lord, and Todd and Travis were simply the vessels. You're worried about music? Is the music for you or for the Lord?” She turned to the elders. “You're concerned about your individual churches? Whose church is it? Yours or the Lord's?

“I didn't want to do the diner Bible study. I didn't think I
could
do it. But I found out it wasn't about me. None of this is about us.” She glanced up at Todd and Travis. “I don't know what will happen with this joint service idea. I pray it goes forward, because I've seen the blessing of unity and fellowship with my Soul Sisters. And I pray both churches get to experience it.”

She sat down, but others popped up. Gina, Bea, Violet, Trina . . . one by one, the Soul Sisters stood. Janelle, Stephanie, Beverly, and Allison moved forward up the center aisle, and they all made their way to the front. Becca, who'd been sitting up front, joined them, and they summoned Sara Ann forward as well. The women hugged one another as a group, and then Beverly turned to the pastors.

“I don't care if nobody else shows up for the joint service, I think I can speak for the Soul Sisters in saying
we'll
be there.”

“Yeah!” The group pumped their fists.

Janelle had tears in her eyes, thankful for the way God had moved Sara Ann.

People in the pews began to stand now, one here, one there, showing their support for the joint service. A little less than half had come to their feet in the end.

Janelle could tell Todd and Travis were greatly moved. Neither had words. So Trina began singing a song the Calvary choir was known for.

Voices joined in and before long the sound of beautiful worship filled the sanctuary.

“How great is our God, sing with me, how great is our God . . .”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Saturday, February 27

N
o, it's definitely lopsided.” Janelle's head went lopsided as she looked at it. “It's too high on the right.”

Stephanie held her hands out wide like a picture frame. “I don't know. Looks even to me.”

Todd and Travis, perched high on a pair of ladders, looked at them impatiently from either end of a banner strung across the family room.

“Hanging out on ladders is not my favorite thing,” Todd said. “Are we good or are we not?”

“Mom, can you come here a minute?” Janelle called.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Estelle called back. “I'm making the roux for the macaroni and cheese.”

“Oh no, go on and tend to that,” Travis told her. “That's much more important.”

Janelle made a face at him. “Jackie, are you in there?” she called.

Their teenage cousin, Aunt Gladys's granddaughter, had arrived in town that afternoon. She bebopped into the family room, texting on her phone, and looked up. “Ooh, that thing is lopsided.” She turned to Janelle. “Did you call me?”

“That was all I needed, my dear.” She looked at Stephanie. “Get your eyes checked.”

Todd and Travis adjusted the banner, came down, and the four of them stared at it.

H
APPY
87T
H
B
IRTHDAY
, G
RANDMA
G
ERI!
it said.

Janelle sighed, trying to push away the sadness. “Okay. I can do this.”

“We
have
to do this,” Stephanie said. “We have to stay upbeat.”

They'd been giving one another pep talks all day. It had been hard watching Grandma Geri since she'd gotten home from the hospital. She'd stayed there eleven days, undergoing various tests and close monitoring. Though still in fairly good spirits, it seemed ever since the paralysis she'd been going downhill physically. She stayed in bed mostly, wasn't eating much, didn't even want a birthday party. She said a big family celebration would only remind her that
all
her family wasn't present.

But that was the point of the party—to gather all the family. After Grandma Geri charged Janelle and Libby to pray that she could see Aunt Gwynn and Keisha, Libby had been planning. She'd never been responsible for a Sanders family gathering before—the older generation planned; her generation showed up.

But she went to work and put Janelle and Stephanie to work, calling every single person in the Sanders family directory plus family beyond the immediate clan. They wanted the family reunion vibe of summer—festive, overflowing with food and fun.

Except how could it really be fun? They knew why they were gathering. Barring a miracle, this would be Grandma Geri's last birthday. And how could it be fun when she was deteriorating before their very eyes?

And there was the matter of Aunt Gwynn and Keisha. If they didn't come, the entire purpose for the event would have failed. And if they
did
come and it didn't go well . . .

Still, for the sake of Grandma Geri and the occasion, Janelle and Stephanie had vowed to exude joy. And Stephanie had additional incentive. Lindell and the rest of her family were coming.

Janelle picked up her notepad and placed a check by
banner
. “All right, what's next? We don't have much time before cars start arriving.”

Stephanie looked at the list. “We're rolling. Food preparation duly delegated to the elders, cleaning detail duly delegated to the youngsters. Balloons on the way.”

“We picked up the cake,” Janelle added. “What about the video?”

“Check,” Travis said. “Got it from Terry.”

“Cool, thanks.” Janelle couldn't wait to surprise Grandma Geri with it. The media guy at New Jerusalem had put together a celebration of her life, with pictures they'd given him and interviews he'd done of family members and church members.

“Where is Libby?” Stephanie asked. “Isn't she supposed to be handling this day-of-event stuff?”

“Good question,” Janelle said. “She should've been here at least an hour ago.”

Todd rested in a recliner. “What's the latest on Keisha and her mom?”

“First she said she couldn't come, then she was thinking about driving down with her husband and son, but her husband had a conflict.” Janelle raised a brow, not wanting to admit she was skeptical. “Uncle Bruce offered Keisha and Aunt Gwynn his airline rewards tickets, and there's a flight that leaves in an hour. I don't know if they'll be on it.”

“We haven't told Grandma any of this,” Janelle added. “If it doesn't work out, she'll never know it was a possibility.”

The door burst open, and Daniel, Tiffany, Claire, and a gaggle of other kids came tearing through the family room on their way to who-knew-where.

“Hey!” Janelle and Todd called at once.

“Come back here,” he added.

Those kids had been on the go ever since Aunt Gladys's grand-kids—six of them under ten—showed up. Janelle's dad and Uncle Wood were at their usual post outdoors, grilling and keeping an eye on the kids, supposedly. The late February weather was unseasonably warm, and Janelle figured the children had a touch of spring fever.

The stampede was much slower in reverse.

“Yes, Daddy?” Claire asked, looking innocent.

“You know you don't run through the house.”

“All of you know that,” Janelle said. “And, Daniel, you were leading the pack, and I know you know better. If you want to run, stay outdoors. If you come inside, you'll sit down and do something productive—or maybe take a nap.”

They were out the door in a flash.

Stephanie laughed. “Girl, you said
nap
, and that was all she wrote.”

“It's a shame,” Janelle said. “I hear myself issuing the same threats they gave us when we were running around here.
Nap
was the biggest threat of all.”

“Shoot, Grandma Geri would make
me
take a nap.” Travis laughed. “I was like, ‘I can just go home,' and she'd say, ‘Boy, lie down and close your eyes.' ”

“So many memories,” Todd said. “I know we want to keep it upbeat, but wow . . . whenever the Lord sees fit to take Grandma Geri home, that'll be the end of an era on this street. What if y'all sell this house and another family moves in? How weird would
that
be?”

“No one wants to talk about it,” Janelle said. “But the reality is, a lot of decisions will need to be made, sooner rather than later.”

They heard a rap on the door.

“That's the balloon delivery,” Stephanie said. She went to open the door—and squealed.

Janelle looked and squealed herself. She hadn't seen Uncle Bruce, Aunt Claudia, or Cyd in years.

“Y'all are here!” Stephanie embraced Lindell tight for several seconds, then kissed him. “I missed you.”

Janelle smiled at the teary sound in Stephanie's voice.