Read Online I Know I've Been Changed by Reshonda Tate Billingsley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Reshonda Tate Billingsley
Ads: Link
itself. I just feel like you’re not really happy, even though you try to pretend you are. And I thought that if you sought guidance from God, it would help guide you in the right direction.”
I rolled my eyes to the top of my head. Try as I might, I couldn’t stay mad at Shereen.
I was just about to say something when we were interrupted by a loud voice in the corner of the lobby.
“Why you gotta bring her here, Bobby, huh?”
I looked toward the young woman. She looked like she couldn’t be more than twenty years old. Her auburn-tinted curls framed her delicate face. She was pretty, too pretty to be standing in the church lobby acting a fool over some man.
“Oh, Lord, here she goes again,” Shereen said.
“Who is that?”
“Girl, that’s Reverend Jackson’s drama-filled daughter, Rachel. Her baby daddy married somebody else and she ain’t taking the news too well.”
“Rachel, that’s my wife and this is the church she attends,” the man responded as he picked up a little boy who was the spitting image of him.
Rachel started crying. “You’re supposed to be the man. Find another church! Do you know how much this hurts me?”
People had started to stop and stare. A handsome man in a choir robe walked over and whispered something in Rachel’s ear before taking her hand and leading her out of the lobby.
I shook my head in disgust. That would’ve been my life had I stayed in Sweet Poke. Somebody’s baby mama with no class whatsoever.
“You ready to go, or are you still mad at me?” Shereen’s voice broke my thoughts.
“I’m fine.” I followed Shereen out to her car, where we got in and rode in silence for a good ten minutes.
Shereen reached over and turned down the volume on the gospel radio station we’d been listening to. “Rae, don’t get mad because I’m asking this, but why do you seem so, I don’t know, disconnected from God?”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s just that you are so hard on everybody, yet you let Myles run all over you. On the outside you look like a strong black woman, but it’s like you’re miserable on the inside.” Shereen exited the freeway and pulled onto the feeder road.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
She ignored my question and pulled into the Lakes at 610, a serene park on the southwest side where couples often came to talk and families came to play. Shereen parked the car and turned to me. “Now, tell me what’s really going on.”
I folded my arms and contemplated going off on Shereen, but finally decided that if she wanted the truth, I’d give it to her. “You want to know why I’m so disconnected from God, as you say? Huh? Well, I’ll tell you. It’s because I can’t for the life of me understand what kind of God allows a mother to just drop her kids off like they’re some old clothes she’s giving to Goodwill. I can’t seem to find praise for a God that will let those same children live a life of indescribable poverty.”
Shereen listened attentively. I felt empowered getting everything off my chest.
“In case you haven’t guessed, I’m talking about myself. My mother dumped me at a gas station in the middle of night and I didn’t hear from her for years. Granted, my grandmother raised me, but it was a horrible, poverty-ridden life. She struggled constantly, cleaning houses and taking care of people’s kids just to keep food on the table. My sister and I had to grow up too fast. My brother has leukemia and could die at any time. And my youngest sister, Jasmine…” I turned my head and took a deep breath before continuing. “My baby sister died a tragic death when she was just six years old. I ran as fast as I could from my life in Sweet Poke, Arkansas, and I haven’t looked back. I have had more than my share of tragedy.”
I waited for Shereen to ask me how Jasmine had died and was grateful when she didn’t.
“So, you’ll have to excuse me if I find it hard to be faithful,” I continued. Shereen
I rolled my eyes to the top of my head. Try as I might, I couldn’t stay mad at Shereen.
I was just about to say something when we were interrupted by a loud voice in the corner of the lobby.
“Why you gotta bring her here, Bobby, huh?”
I looked toward the young woman. She looked like she couldn’t be more than twenty years old. Her auburn-tinted curls framed her delicate face. She was pretty, too pretty to be standing in the church lobby acting a fool over some man.
“Oh, Lord, here she goes again,” Shereen said.
“Who is that?”
“Girl, that’s Reverend Jackson’s drama-filled daughter, Rachel. Her baby daddy married somebody else and she ain’t taking the news too well.”
“Rachel, that’s my wife and this is the church she attends,” the man responded as he picked up a little boy who was the spitting image of him.
Rachel started crying. “You’re supposed to be the man. Find another church! Do you know how much this hurts me?”
People had started to stop and stare. A handsome man in a choir robe walked over and whispered something in Rachel’s ear before taking her hand and leading her out of the lobby.
I shook my head in disgust. That would’ve been my life had I stayed in Sweet Poke. Somebody’s baby mama with no class whatsoever.
“You ready to go, or are you still mad at me?” Shereen’s voice broke my thoughts.
“I’m fine.” I followed Shereen out to her car, where we got in and rode in silence for a good ten minutes.
Shereen reached over and turned down the volume on the gospel radio station we’d been listening to. “Rae, don’t get mad because I’m asking this, but why do you seem so, I don’t know, disconnected from God?”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s just that you are so hard on everybody, yet you let Myles run all over you. On the outside you look like a strong black woman, but it’s like you’re miserable on the inside.” Shereen exited the freeway and pulled onto the feeder road.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
She ignored my question and pulled into the Lakes at 610, a serene park on the southwest side where couples often came to talk and families came to play. Shereen parked the car and turned to me. “Now, tell me what’s really going on.”
I folded my arms and contemplated going off on Shereen, but finally decided that if she wanted the truth, I’d give it to her. “You want to know why I’m so disconnected from God, as you say? Huh? Well, I’ll tell you. It’s because I can’t for the life of me understand what kind of God allows a mother to just drop her kids off like they’re some old clothes she’s giving to Goodwill. I can’t seem to find praise for a God that will let those same children live a life of indescribable poverty.”
Shereen listened attentively. I felt empowered getting everything off my chest.
“In case you haven’t guessed, I’m talking about myself. My mother dumped me at a gas station in the middle of night and I didn’t hear from her for years. Granted, my grandmother raised me, but it was a horrible, poverty-ridden life. She struggled constantly, cleaning houses and taking care of people’s kids just to keep food on the table. My sister and I had to grow up too fast. My brother has leukemia and could die at any time. And my youngest sister, Jasmine…” I turned my head and took a deep breath before continuing. “My baby sister died a tragic death when she was just six years old. I ran as fast as I could from my life in Sweet Poke, Arkansas, and I haven’t looked back. I have had more than my share of tragedy.”
I waited for Shereen to ask me how Jasmine had died and was grateful when she didn’t.
“So, you’ll have to excuse me if I find it hard to be faithful,” I continued. Shereen
Similar Books
