Page 39 of Saving Micah

It’s a lingering question that has run through my head for the past two weeks and it is killing me.

It’s Wednesday night and I am heading to church.

I have been going to church since I could safely walk to the church on the next block from my house. I didn’t ask permission from Roy. He never knew where I went on Wednesday nights and Sundays. This was my secret. I never knew how much I needed God until He found me.

When I was 7, I had to leave my house. Dad had hit me pretty hard across the face and I ran outside. My mind was telling me to get as far away as my legs could take me. I made it a block. I was out of breath and found myself sitting on the steps of Missions Baptist Church. When I looked up from where I had landed on those brick steps, there was an old lady sitting in a rocking chair next to the door of the church.

I just looked at her. My legs would not let me leave and my brain would not let me speak. It felt like the only ability I had was to look and listen.

Now I know God was trying to teach me those particular skills early on.

She spoke to me. She had a grandmotherly voice and it sounded like angels singing. “Hello baby boy,” she said.

I just kept staring at her. Why was she calling me a baby? I wasn’t a baby. But still, I couldn’t speak.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’ve just been sitting here enjoying this nice afternoon breeze. Would you like some tea?” The old woman asked me.

I nod my head and move up the steps closer to her.

She continues to talk to me in a soothing voice. “Young man, do you know why you landed here on these steps?”

I shake my head no. I really don’t know. I don’t even know where I’m at. I just knew at that moment that I needed to sit down.

“Well, I think you need to be here. I think God sent you here to see me. I think you need this building that is behind us. What do you think?”

I finally formulate a way to speak, “Where am I? What is this place?”

The old woman said, “This is Missions Baptist Church. This is God’s house and you are more than welcome to come inside any time you want.”

Due to my home life and lack of worldly knowledge due to my age I ask her the big question… “Who is God?”

I really don’t know how long I sat there and talked with her about everything I had been through that I could remember in my 7 years on earth, but it was getting dark when I finally left.

That day, sitting on the steps of Missions Baptist Church, changed my life. That old woman changed my life. Her name was Ms. Peggy and I kept seeing Ms. Peggy for many years. She passed away when I was 15 and to this day, I still remember many of the lessons that she taught me every week.

Going to church here now is like coming home. The people there are my family. They understand why I left. They understand why I came back. I am me, completely, when I am surrounded by them. They help keep me close to God. And that is something I need.

“Zant, it’s good to see you again. Have I mentioned how happy that you are back?” Ms. Martha asked me. She is a sweet older lady. She is probably around my parents age. She makes me think of my mother. Maybe my mother would have been like her. Who knows, though. With my dad, my mom probably wouldn’t have had a choice.

“Thanks, Ms. Martha. It’s good to be back. How are you?”

“I’m doing great dear boy. I’m keeping busy at the school and helping the children. It can’t get any better for me.”

I smile at her, “That’s great. I know those kids benefit from your love and attention.”

“How are things coming with the house?” she asks.

“They are good. All the paperwork has been finalized. I’m a homeowner.” I smile at her. They have been praying for me to get this house since I mentioned it to them.

“That’s so good to hear baby boy. That’s so good,” she says.

Then, the preacher calls our attention so I take my seat.

I leave church and head to the local diner for supper. Bachelorhood means I don’t cook. I really don’t care to cook. Living in the South has its advantages. There are diners all around that make homegrown food. Most of the cooks are grandparents or they learned to cook from their grandparents. Nothing is better.

Meatloaf and mashed potatoes are the special tonight and it sounds perfect.

After eating, I start to head home. I’ve got to finish packing up my apartment. I move out this weekend. The new house is ready and as much as I’m not looking forward to moving, I’m ready to be in my new house.

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