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room.”
    Sharla
rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get to the nursing home, please.”

Chapter 10
     
                A
quick glance across the sanctuary gave Mark cause for question. There were
definitely fewer people in attendance that week. Mentally, he ran through a
list of possibilities, including the previous night’s musical, where he had
taken the liberty of sharing the good news about Christ and extending the
invitation to meet Him, although he wasn’t on program to do so. Mark was well
aware that some people “counted” any event where a preacher spoke as their
weekly visit with God. Once they met the quota, that was it—especially
with this second service.
    After
the announcements scrolled across giant screens, the praise dancers rendered a
routine that totally rubbed Mark the wrong way. The chorus of the music, “God,
please don’t turn away from me,” was impossible. God had already promised in
His word that He would never leave or forsake His people.
    Several
people in the audience stood, raising their hands toward heaven as they
mimicked the dancers’ begging gestures. Have these people not been listening
to a word I’ve preached for the past two Sundays?
    Maybe
Sharla was right. Perhaps he should cut back on his efforts at the church. If
they weren’t going to listen to him, what was the point?
    Or
maybe he was expecting too much too soon. The fact was, he could only point the
finger at himself for their misunderstanding. What was two weeks’ worth of truth
supposed to accomplish after years of politically correct social teaching on
his watch, not to mention the preachers they might have had before him? No
matter, he tapped a memo to himself to develop a sermon on entering God’s rest
through Christ, Hebrews chapter 4.
    The
choir’s last song didn’t help. Though it was a classic, Mark cringed at the
first line.
    “The
race is not given to the swift nor to the strong,” Valeria Newsome sang her
heart out, “but to the one that endureth until the end.”
    Mark
could remember when he used to quote those words, but last year he’d stopped
when he found out the saying wasn’t actually a scripture in the Bible. And he’d
told the church about it, too, but obviously they’d decided it didn’t matter.
It sounded good, so they sang it anyway.
    There
again, Mark made a note, this one to be discussed with the elders: No more
unbiblical songs.
    But
was he being too harsh? Legalistic? Was it the end of the world if the choir’s
songs and praise dancers’ music was a little…off? Even more, how was he going
to micro-manage every single move the worship ministry made?
    Not
possible.
    Finally,
the song ended with yet another partial-verse-scramble and Mark took the
pulpit. His message that day was almost the same as last Sunday’s: Free from
sin.
    “If
you have your Bibles with you, go ahead and turn to first John, chapter three.”
    While
he knew that some congregants were busy swiping virtual pages, the familiar
melody of thin pages flipping, flipping, flipping sent a pleasant ripple
through Mark’s soul. Breaking the bread of God’s word with people filled him
more than a six-course meal.
    “I
have to forewarn you,” he started, “some of you may not like this sermon. It’s
what I like to call a mirror sermon.”
    “Ah
hah,” from Mother Herndon, sitting on the second pew. “Preach it anyway.”
    Her
words made Mark laugh inside. He had been encouraged when Mother Herndon joined
New Vision. She’d been a long-time Mother at Dr. McMurray’s church but,
according to her, the Lord wanted her to follow him and Sharla as they started
their own ministry.
    “You
need the old and the young alike at every church,” Mother Herndon had wisely
stated.
    He
had no doubt that she prayed for him and his family on a regular basis. He
hoped the Spirit would lead her to add a little extra for Amani and Sharla.
    Mark
spotted Amani in the crowd. Arms folded, eyes looking as though he might