She's No Angel, page 6
Applause filled the atmosphere. Those women who had actually traveled from Chicago let out a couple of extra whoops for their hometown girl.
Lady Arykah stood from one of the two reserved tables that sat closest to the stage. The applause did not die down as she climbed the four steps up to the stage, which was skirted with the same material as the curtains hanging in the background. She made her way over to the podium. As she strutted like a true queen of the throne indeed, the silver silk two-piece suit she wore glimmered with every move she made. Her silver, wide-brimmed hat was tilted on the right side of her head, and it almost covered her right eye.
Being a plus-size woman, weighing over two hundred fifty pounds, Lady Arykah was confident in her own skin. Vanity was her middle name. She never stepped one foot out of her home until her hair and makeup were perfect. Her pointed nose and full lips complemented her mocha-colored complexion. Someone would have a better chance at convincing Lady Arykah that the sky wasn’t blue before she believed she wasn’t the most beautiful woman God had ever created.
Although she looked like the most confident woman in the world to the other women in the room, Lady Arykah’s heart was beating out of her chest at a rapid speed. Don’t get it twisted. Lady Arykah couldn’t get any more confident in herself when it came to her appearance and all that she had accomplished in life thus far, with God’s help, of course. God had brought her a mighty long way indeed. But even though she delivered every time, she still got a little nervous when she was about to come forth with God’s Word. Well aware of the fact that God could use, would use, and had used anybody to do His will, she was still in awe of the fact that He would choose to use her.
That powerful introduction that First Lady Adams had just given her had only put that much more pressure on Lady Arykah. She had to bring it. She couldn’t let God down. She couldn’t let these women down. She had to teach like she’d never taught before. The ladies who had gathered for the conference weren’t just any typical group of women. Lady Arykah stood in the presence of ministers’ wives, women who were on her level, women that knew God’s Word and could try the spirit by the spirit. But anybody who knew Lady Arykah knew that she was always up for a challenge and would always meet it, by any means necessary.
Clearly, the attendees had no doubt that Lady Arykah would be bringing forth nothing but God’s holy Word. They could feel it. The God inside of Lady Arykah shined way brighter than her suit on the outside. Lady Arykah hadn’t been married to her husband, Bishop Lance Howell, a full year. Most of the women who attended the conference were vested in their marriages, and some had married long before Lady Arykah had even been born. Then there was the minority: women who had been married to pastors for only a short period of time. Of course, Angel fell right into that category. As a matter of fact, she was the newest pastor’s wife among all the women in the room.
Knowing that Lady Arykah too was still in the honeymoon stage made Angel that much more eager to hear what the woman of God had to say. Because not only did the two women have that in common, but both had been unchurched, never imagining in a million years they’d end up being the first lady of a church. There were times in Lady Arykah’s past when others hadn’t even been willing to refer to her as a lady in general, let alone respect her as a first lady. But that had not kept Lady Arykah from ministering in whichever capacity she was called to.
Even though Lady Arykah had been validated by God, as she stood before these pastors’ wives, fear still began to creep into her spirit. Would she be able to live up to that introduction and what these women now expected of her? Was she really good enough or even knowledgeable enough to teach these women, some of whom were decades older than she was? Was there anything she could possibly share with them that they didn’t already know? Would they accept her? Would they take her seriously? There was only one way to find out.
Once positioned behind the podium, Lady Arykah looked out at the women in the ballroom. Even though one of the first things she’d learned when it came to ministry was not to look into people’s faces, she did it every time. Yes, sometimes, some of the women’s faces would be twisted up with that “Who does she think she is?” expression. But even that never deterred her. It only made her want to show them exactly who she was just that much more.
She scanned the room, taking in the many faces. Lady Arykah didn’t know how many there were in attendance, but if she had to guess, she’d say three hundred–plus pairs of eyes were staring back at her. They were filled with such anticipation. Those eyes looked more confident in her than she felt about herself. Their eyes were hungry and thirsty for direction. She was there to deliver a message and had to trust that God knew what His people needed and when they needed it.
Finally, Lady Arykah took a breath and exhaled. Even though a prayer had gone forth covering the food as well as the conference just an hour or so ago, the luncheon keynote speaker was still in need of one last prayer. So with her eyes open, Lady Arykah silently prayed, Lord, please write on my tongue. She glanced down at her notes, which had been placed on the podium ahead of time, and then she looked out at the women again. By now, the women were dead silent. All applause had ceased as the willing vessels, open to receive, waited to hear a Word from the Lord.
“Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.” Lady Arykah opened with Proverbs 31. Surely that was to be expected by some. Women’s conferences almost always focused on the whole Proverbs woman thing. But Lady Arykah was about to put a different kind of twist on it.
Lady Arykah didn’t get a response from the women. She was confident all the first ladies were well aware of the scripture. Then she rephrased it. “Are your husbands worthy of you?” she asked the women. “What was your price?”
“All right now,” Lady Arykah heard First Lady Adams say.
“You’re already preachin’, Lady Arykah,” an unknown woman from the audience yelled out.
A few more amens and heads that nodded in agreement encouraged her.
“Some of y’all were cheap, while some of y’all just gave it away for free,” Lady Arykah said with a straight face.
“Ouch. You steppin’. You steppin’,” could be heard.
“Some of y’all shouldn’t have worn those cute li’l open-toe shoes,” Lady Arykah warned. “Because I will be steppin’ on toes this afternoon, so you best hide yours under a nice pair of loafers if you don’t want to give your true self away.”
“Ha!” First Lady Adams uttered, then high-fived her neighbor.
“But for those of you who wanna get set free, go on and kick your shoes off, because we’re gonna tell the truth and shame the devil at this conference. Is that okay?” Lady Arykah challenged the women.
“Yes, ma’am,” the women responded in unison. Some even kicked off their shoes, ready to receive any help that cometh from the Lord.
Lady Arykah turned toward the table she’d been sitting at. First Lady Adams now occupied the seat that Lady Arykah had vacated to come to the stage. “Lady Adams, I ain’t come here to play.”
Lady Adams stood up. “Oh, we already know. Go ahead and do your thang.”
“If I say something that convicts anybody’s spirit in this room, take it up with the Holy Ghost, ’cause I ain’t got that kind of power on my own.”
“Say that!” First Lady Adams waved her hand and then sat back down in her seat.
Lady Arykah turned straight ahead and spoke to the women. “I bring you greetings from Freedom Temple Church of God in Christ in Chicago, Illinois, where my husband, Bishop Lance Howell, is the pastor.”
“All right” and “Amen” could be heard throughout the room as the women gave a hand praise.
Lady Arykah glanced over her left shoulder at the screen. She read to herself the theme of the First Lady Conference.
“Your place in the church, your place in His Kingdom,” she said, reading the words out loud. “Do you know your places, ladies?” she asked the women. It was a rhetorical question; she didn’t expect anyone to answer. “How many of you really know what your role in God’s Kingdom is? Your role in the church that your husband pastors?”
Still no response from the women. They just sat attentively.
Lady Arykah kept on. “How many of you really know what it means to be a preacher’s wife?”
“Teach this afternoon,” someone yelled.
“Talk about it,” another woman called, encouraging Lady Arykah. “Tell us what it means.”
“It’s pretty much a no-brainer when it comes to doing the work of our Lord,” Lady Arykah said. “Everyone’s assignment in the Kingdom of God is the same. Live a sin-free life, treat our neighbors right, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, fund the poor, obey the laws of the Ten Commandments, and win souls for Christ. That is our day-to-day operation.”
“Well?” some women offered in unison.
“But being married to ministers makes our places in the church a little challenging,” Lady Arykah said.
“A little?” First Lady Adams asked out loud and chuckled.
Most of the women joined in on the laughter.
Lady Arykah also chuckled and turned to face First Lady Adams. “I think I’ll say that in another way.” She faced the audience. “Being ministers’ wives makes it difficult to keep our places in the church.”
A woman jumped up from her seat and yelled out, “Now you’re sayin’ something.”
Angel sat in amazement at the back-and-forth banter between the women and the keynote speaker. It wasn’t all stiff and uptight, like some might think a First Lady Conference would be. These women were like girlfriends sitting around in a living room, having a sista-to-sista conversation.
“We don’t get the privilege of taking our hats off.” Lady Arykah stroked the brim of her hat to make sure the women got a good look at it. It had been custom-made to go with her outfit just for the conference. Some chuckled at the keynote speaker’s playful show of vanity. Lady Arykah went back into serious mode. “We don’t get to take a vacation, not really, anyway, because the cell phone is still going to go off like crazy even when we’re on the beach, trying to catch some sun.”
“Tell me about it,” someone hollered.
“Been there, prayed that,” called another.
“We can’t say that we don’t wanna be bothered when someone comes to us for help,” Lady Arykah preached. “We always carry the burdens of the congregation on our shoulders.”
“That’s the truth, Lady Arykah,” Angel heard someone at her table say. Angel was too engrossed in the speaker’s words to turn and see who it was.
“We have to smile, we have to nod our heads, and we have to hug and encourage those that are troubled, even when we are troubled ourselves. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to counsel women to hang in there when it comes to their marriages and to support their husbands, even when I threw a cast-iron skillet at my own husband that very morning.”
The room erupted in laughter. A few of the women even jumped to their feet. “Come on, Lady Arykah. Come on, girrrl. You already know.”
First Lady Adams stood again. “You better tell the truth in here.”
“I have to minister to the next wife about how to please and keep her husband happy so he won’t stray again, when I’m still learning how to meet my own man’s needs.” Lady Arykah rolled her eyes. “Come on, First Ladies. Y’all know what I’m talking about in here. It’s frustrating sometimes when my husband wants to make love, and I wanna just go to sleep. But I gotta do what I gotta do to keep him true and faithful to me.” She suddenly broke out in song. “My mind’s telling me nooo. . . .”
Some of the women stood to their feet in laughter as Lady Arykah did her own take of an old classic R. Kelly song.
“But his body, his body wants me to say yesss.”
One of the women, who had been fanning herself with a handmade fan she’d purchased from one of the vendors, jumped up from her table and began to wave the fan in Lady Arykah’s direction.
That room was in an uproar. The women were high-fiv-ing each other and laughing until tears ran down their faces.
“Come on now,” Lady Arykah said. “I love me some Mary Mary and Marvin Sapp, but that ain’t what’s playing on my MP3 player when I’m ministering to my husband in the bed.”
“Say that! Say that!” one woman shouted as the other women hooted and high-fived each other.
Lady Arykah loved the fact that she wasn’t preaching to the walls. These women were feeling her. It was clear by their responses that they could relate. She continued. “Ain’t no shame in my game. I’m the freakiest woman in my church. I have ninety-nine problems, but sexing my man ain’t one of’em.”
First Lady Adams, without getting on the stage, stomped over to where Lady Arykah stood and threw her terry-cloth towel at the speaker. It landed on Lady Arykah’s silver Christian Louboutin stilettos. Lady Arykah’s red bottoms were adorned with Swarovski crystals, and the six-and-a-half-inch heels raised her heavy frame. “Girl, you better keep on preaching up in here.”
The women couldn’t believe what Lady Arykah had just said, but they applauded her. They were already learning something about her and about themselves. They were not alone in their struggle to keep their husbands happy in the bedroom so that the next chick didn’t do it in a hotel room.
Lady Arykah bent over and picked up the towel from off her shoes and dabbed the beads of sweat that were starting to form on her forehead. “How many of you know that the way you say hello to your husband in the morning determines the way things go down in the bedroom when the light goes out at night? There are no rules or restrictions when it comes to the activities in your bedrooms. Some minsters’ wives are too stuffy. Yeah, I said it. You don’t wanna do this, and you don’t wanna do that. Some of you been married over twenty-five years and don’t even know where your husband’s birthmarks are. But I bet Sister So-and-So knows where they are.”
Not a single chair held a butt. All three hundred fifty or so women were standing and screaming.
Lady Arykah felt her help coming on. “Each and every one of you in this room has had a disrespectful tramp grin in your man’s face. Humph. Y’all better learn how to drop it like it’s hot and pick it up like it’s low.” Lady Arykah did this little dip move, which made the women in the room weak.
The ladies couldn’t contain themselves. They roared. The room sounded like a basketball arena!
“I just got out of jail for beating a tramp down,” Lady Arykah confessed.
First Lady Adams had not yet returned to her seat. She stood in front of Lady Arykah in surprise. Clearly, this was not something she had uncovered when she investigated Lady Arykah as a speaking candidate at this year’s conference. The look on First Lady Adams’s face said as much. She was in complete awe.
“It’s true,” Lady Arykah said and nodded her head. “I’m not proud to say that I brought shame to my husband and our church. I had a weak moment when his ex-girlfriend got in my face. She had the gall to tell me that she wanted her man back and that she was willing to do what she had to do to get him. Well, before I knew it, the devil took control of me, and I took control of that chick’s neck when I wrapped my hands around it. A tramp ain’t gotta like me, but she will, for sure, respect me and mine.”
Some women came and stood right before Lady Arykah on the main floor. It looked like an altar call had been made. It was obvious Lady Arykah wasn’t alone in her conflict with disrespectful women when it came to being a first lady.
“Go ’head. Preach. You’re telling the truth,” one of the women down front shouted. Tears were streaming down this woman’s face. “You’re talking to me right now.”
Another sister placed her arm around the woman in support. Another handed her a tissue.
“Hide your feet now, because I’m about to come down your aisle,” Lady Arykah warned. “Some of you used to be the tramp some of us first ladies had to look out for. Watch it now!” Lady Arykah began to do a two-step as some of the women moaned. “I know I used to be.” She laughed. “But for God’s amazing grace . . . He did it for me. I said, He did it for me, y’all!”
The women cheered for Lady Arykah’s deliverance.
“But, anyway, like I was about to say, I know there are probably some of you out there that didn’t read the Book of Ruth. Take a minute to read it before the weekend is over. It’s only four chapters,” Lady Arykah said. “Ruth was a hardworking, morally chaste woman who waited patiently for God to send Boaz to her. Boaz treated Ruth with respect, while fulfilling his lawful responsibility. He and Ruth obeyed God’s laws.”
“Come on. Teach it,” some of the women shouted at Lady Arykah.
“I always encourage the single women at my church never to marry the man you can live with, but instead, marry the man you can’t live without.”
“You sho ’nuff telling the truth,” First Lady Adams offered.
“Some of y’all in here knew you weren’t in love with that preacher when he wined and dined you, but you were in love with the possibility of becoming a first lady. Y’all wanted that title. And because you didn’t follow in Ruth’s footsteps and wait on the Lord to send you your very own Boaz, you settled for Lazyaz, Drunkaz, and Goodfornothingaz.”
The women screamed again. Angel high-fived the young sister at her table. “I have never heard it put quite like that before,” Angel said and laughed.
First Lady Adams raised her hand, with one finger up, in the air. She shook her head as she walked back over to her seat. Lady Arykah’s bluntness was making her too weak to stand any longer. “Oh my God, I can’t take it.”
The other women who stood on the main floor made their way back to their seats as well.
Lady Arykah started up again. “Then there are those of you who were so eager to become a pastor’s wife and claim your spot on the front pew, you made a deal with Poaz, Dumbaz, Crackheadaz, Lyingaz, Cheapaz, and Brokeaz.”
