Excerpt
9:20, Sunday morning. Outside, the sun was shining bright enough to make you think it was warmer than it really was. In my bedroom I stood in front of the full-length mirror partially dressed, caught between taking off a brown suede suit and trying to decide if the navy-blue outfit or the gray tweed two-piece would look better. I was really
feeling the navy-blue deal but, for church, I felt that the skirt was saying a bit more than it needed to. And the last thing a sister needed during morning service was to look like she was looking.

After fifteen minutes of going back-and-forth I finally decided on a nice little royal blue number that stopped just below the knees. That was the one with the not-so-plunging neckline. I smiled as I held it up in front of me in the mirror.

“Exactly what I was thinking.” I went ahead and pulled the matching pumps from the closet and finished getting undressed so I could go ahead and get dressed.

As I walked through the massive double doors of the Stars For Christ Pentecostal Church Pastor C. Brimmer was already in the pulpit enjoying the devotional portion of the service. A few times it looked like he was ready to leave the pulpit and get right in with the Young Adult praise team. He’d been known to do that on occasions.

Walking down the center isle into the main sanctuary I paused slightly to admire how magnificent the church was, with its sea-green marble
pillars that stretched toward the ceiling. A stunning mosaic of beautiful stained glass windows filtered in the sky’s natural lighting with a collection of powerful reds, warm inviting yellows, vibrant
greens, and tranquil blues.

Large angels carved from rich mahogany rested overhead, casting their watchful eyes over everything. Those were my favorites. The church’s seventy-five year old organ, which I’d been told had been restored to like-new conditions, sat off to the right of a choir stand that stretched the width of the sanctuary. As the organist played, soul-stirring melodies escaped from what looked like a thousand brass pipes. Yes sir, just looking around it wasn’t hard to tell that Stars For Christ Pentecostal had come a mighty long way.

Exactly one year ago to the day the church had re-opened its doors after a devastating fire that nearly burned it to the ground, so this morning was somewhat of an anniversary, if you will. A celebration. A reason to thank God for another chance. Oddly enough, I was more than able to relate.

Pastor C. Brimmer was from a long line of anointed preachers and was known throughout the church community for his father-like relationships with his parishioners and people in general. In my five years as a member, who came as often as she could regardless of what Nadine thought, I’d known him to be no less.

Following the rousing devotional portion led by the praise team, and selections by the New Testament Mass Choir, everybody stood to their
feet as Pastor Brimmer was introduced just before taking the podium. Down through the years I can still remember how his words, which chastised and encouraged all at the same time, had you feeling better when you left than when you came.

After an anointed prayer for guidance and direction, Pastor Brimmer acknowledged various members of the clergy. As he did that I glanced
around into the congregation. The church was filled from front to rear with familiar faces and some not so. As always, most of them were women. Young women. Beautiful women. Women who, I’m sure like myself, were looking for their Mr. Right. And if their Mr. Right was somewhere in Stars For Christ Pentecostal I sure hoped that they’d find him.

But certainly not before I found mine. Seconds later my mind was drawn back to the sounds of Pastor Brimmer’s baritoned voice. “...and my dear children, this day has been in the making long before the flicker became a flame.

Long before the flame became a blaze. Long before the blaze became an inferno and burned us out.” His voice inflected with each phrase as he said that. “That same inferno had to have a starting point. A point where the very flicker itself had to ignite. Church, just as we rose from nothing to become what we were before the fire… we’ve risen from what we became as a result of the fire, to become what we are today! A living testimony of just how good God is! Oh what a friend we have in Jesus!”

Immediately, the church filled with the sounds of thunderous applause as Pastor then reflected on the fire just before delivering his sermon, using that as the perfect segue into his topic. “The words I’d like to leave with you this morning, children are…‘That’s what friends are for.’” The text verse was read and then expounded on. “Proverbs 18:24 tells us that ‘A man that hath friends must show himself friendly’. We, as ambassadors of Christ, cannot carry ourselves…just any kind of way.
There’s a certain demeanor that should precede us.

If we are to attract quality, then we must show quality that quality already exists in us!”

“Preach, Pastor,” a woman in the third pew shouted. Sitting there in what probably was somebody else’s favorite seat I listened to the pastor’s sermon with more intent than I anticipated. Probably because each word made me feel like I’d checked into a hospital for a spiritual check-up and was told exactly what was wrong with my social
life, and more importantly, exactly how to fix it. Almost like God was tired of me failing at trying to succeed with men, and was giving me the perfect prescription for the ills and woes in my life. And after I thought about it I smiled because that was just like God. Knowing exactly what you needed before you even asked.