Read Online When It All Falls Down by Dijorn Moss - Free Book Online Page B

of failed attempts, the key finally grants me access. I open the room door and turn on the lights. The room has a living room with a TV, wet bar, and a desk. The bedroom is in the next room. This room is designed for both business and pleasure. I systematically start to unpack and hang all my clothes up in the closet and lay out all of my valuables in order from wallet to watch along the dresser in my bedroom.
    I take a peek at the wet bar and figure that since the church will pick up the tab on my hotel room, I might as well have a glass of Jack Daniel’s before I go to bed. Sometimes I’ll read the Word and go to bed. Other times I read the Word with single malt and go to bed. I know that God doesn’t approve of my drinking, but I have seen some things that would shake anyone’s faith. My faith hasn’t been destroyed, but it has been damaged to the point where I feel like I need more than prayer to get by.
    I read a passage from the Book of Nehemiah. This book has a lot to do with rebuilding. I know that there are areas of my life that have been broken. I grew up in a broken home where my mother left my father. I grew up in a broken neighborhood where decadence reigned supreme and I work in a ministry that is broken by idol worship of its leaders. The inside of my stomach has a burning sensation both from the Jack and the burning sensation that came from the Word. That is the last recollection I have before I go to bed.
    At two in the morning I am awakened from a light sleep by an urgent knock. I fumble my way, half asleep, from the bed to the urgent knock. I open the door to find Minister Blackwell on the other side.
    â€œWhat happened?” I asked.
    â€œShe wants to see you.”
    It takes me a moment to figure out who she is until I realize that “she” is Pastor Robinson. I open the door wide enough to let Minister Blackwell inside the hotel room. I turn on the lights as I close the door.
    â€œI need you to come with me,” Minister Blackwell says.
    â€œWhat happened to tomorrow at eleven A.M. ?” I am supposed to meet with Pastor Robinson tomorrow at the church when the sun is out.
    â€œShe doesn’t want to wait.”
    â€œWhere are we going?”
    Minister Blackwell hesitates to answer. Minister Blackwell is a pushover; anyone can see that, so I decide to be devious. I walk toward Minister Blackwell and he backs up until the heel of his foot touches the wall.
    â€œOkay, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”
    â€œMinister Dungy, may I remind you that we’re paying you a lot of money and—”
    â€œAnd may I remind you that my contract requires full disclosure.”
    Minister Blackwell grumbles and mumbles under his breath, “The Sunset Inn.”
    Unless there is an all-night revival that I have never heard of, the Sunset Inn does not sound like a religious event; it sounds like a sleazy motel. Okay, now I am game to go and check this whole situation out.
    â€œGive me a minute,” I say before I close the door and throw on my slacks and sport coat. Moments later, I walk out the door and follow Minister Blackwell down the hallway.
    Nothing is said while we walk to the elevator. In fact we are silent in the elevator as well. I observe Minister Blackwell, who doesn’t appear to be nervous nor on the edge. He does appear to be a little stiff-necked, but I believe that is his natural disposition.
    We walk outside into the night cool air. It’s not as cold as it is in Detroit, but it is cold nonetheless. Minister Blackwell turns off the alarm of his black Cadillac with his keys. Even his car lacks personality. I get into the car and the leather interior does not ease my chill factor. The one thing that I will give him credit for is that the good Minister Blackwell is a pretty efficient driver. I almost forget that I am the passenger considering how well Blackwell maneuvers out of the parking lot.
    â€œIt takes a lot of