Read Online The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Caught by Neta Jackson - Free Book Online

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    But I held on to Avis’s arm for another moment. “Budget cuts? What kind of budget cuts? What are you going to have to cut? ”
    Avis looked at me strangely. “I . . . don’t know yet, Jodi. But we do need to pray.”

6

    S omething about the way Avis looked at me made me nervous. Budget cuts? Was she implying she’d have to trim the size of her staff? I trailed after her and perched on the arm of the couch as she opened her Bible to get Yada Yada started. But my mind was scanning through the teachers at Bethune Elementary. There’d been three new hires since I’d come on staff two years ago—but all three had left at the end of last year.
    My heart sank. Nope. I was still the newbie. If she had to let someone go, it’d be “last hired, first fired.”
    Oh God. I can’t lose my job! Avis wouldn’t—would she?
    I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus on what she was saying. “Many of us are facing major challenges right now.” Avis glanced around the group. “Ruth is pregnant—”
    â€œAt her age.” Yo-Yo snickered. Sitting on the floor in front of Ruth, she promptly got a whack on the back of her head. “Ow! ”
    Avis’s mouth twitched and almost smiled. But she went on. “Nony, of course, is caring for Mark,who came home from the hospital this week—”
    â€œThank ya, Jesus! Thank ya!” Florida wagged her head. “Mmhm.”
    â€œâ€”but still has a long road of rehabilitation ahead.”
    â€œHave mercy, Señor,” Delores breathed.
    I could tell Avis was struggling to stay on point. Would she mention that her own household had just doubled overnight?
    But she flipped pages in her big Bible. “Before we share what’s on our hearts and pray for one another, let’s first line up with the Word of God. Paul’s letter to the Philippians, chapter four, verse six says, ‘Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.’ ”
    Familiar words. Seemed as if I needed to come back to this particular scripture like I needed three squares a day. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. OK, God, I get it. I shouldn’t get uptight before I even know what’s what about the budget cuts. Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with my job . . .
    Fat chance. Worry niggled at my prayer. You’re toast, Jodi Baxter.
    But I pressed on. But You said we can bring our requests to You, so please, God—
    â€œâ€”with thanksgiving,” Avis said. “So before we bring our requests to God, let’s spend a few minutes thanking Him for Who He is and for all He’s done for us.”
    OK. So I was jumping the gun. I shifted gears and joined the litany of thanks offered there in my living room by a chorus of female voices. “You are awesome, God! We love You!” “God, You are God all by Yourself, and You all about takin’ our messes and makin’ things straight—hallelujah!” “Thank You, Jesus, for Chanda’s new house.” “Ooo, yes, Jesus! I tank You!” “Thank You, Lord God, for all the ways You provide for us—jobs and income and food on our tables.” (I snuck “jobs” in there.) “And thank You for Ruth and Ben’s baby—”
    â€œYes! Yes!” followed that prayer and then silence. Large in every-one’s heart was the concern, Would this baby make it? I peeked through my eyelashes at Ruth. She was blowing her nose into a lace-edged hankie.
    â€œUh, God. I’m new at this prayer stuff.” Becky Wallace’s eyes were squeezed shut. I guiltily shut my own. “But I wanna thank You for the sisters in this group and all the love they’ve poured out on me and Little