My recollection of that place was the man who held the door open for people as they arrived. One Sunday morning in particular I arrived late (as usual) and this dear man said something to me that hurt me deeply. He said, "I'm disappointed in you." I told him that God was not disappointed in me and went into the service. His words rang in my head over and over. My way of handling this person was to avoid him totally. I started going in another door. Problem solved. Right? Well, kind-of-sort-of.
The thing is, this was not my only problem at that church. Next was the problem with the pastor making comments that were not appropriate. At a Wednesday night service the pastor wanted the congregation to give prayer requests for people we had meet. I remembered one person I had meet at a flea market. The man at the flea market sold videos. He had indicated to me that some of the videos he sold were not kosher. If you get my drift. I requested prayer for the flea market video man and prayers were said. After the service was over the pastor shook my hand as I was leaving and he told me, "You really know how to pick'em don't you." Needless to say I felt really stupid, inept, dumb, sad, betrayed, hurt and who know what else. I had also noticed that the pastor did not give invitations for salvation during his sermons. One day after a sermon I asked him why he never gave invitations for salvation. His answer was, "I know everyone here and their all saved."
Seems I have trouble every where I go. Another church I have attended I noticed the pastor had an anger problem. I didn't wait around there to have him say something to me. I liked the people a lot. The women in the Sunday School were the sweetest people. I could call them and they'd pray for me and whatever was going on in my life. So it was off to the next place.
There was one place left but I'd had my problems getting along with people there too. This one was probably my fault. I attended a Hispanic congregation and things were okay until one day we meet at the pastor's apartment for Bible study. They were wanting each of us to commit to having a Bible study in our homes. I didn't like the idea and didn't volunteer. The next thing that happened was what I said to the pastor's wife some nine months after she had given birth to her baby girl. Understand that I love babies but I know that when they begin to crawl, walk, and jump around they can seem pretty much like little monkeys. I didn't mean to offend these people but it certainly did. I asked the mother if her little precious angle was a monkey yet. I was trying to say, 'Does she move around and jump all over things like a little monkey?' This woman got furious. I tried to call her and apologize but she would never answer her phone. I left messages but it didn't matter. I'm wondering if there was something lost in the translation. They were from either Chili or Peru.
While I'm confessing I need to tell about two other churches but it will have to wait because I can't keep my eyes open.
Oh, I nearly forgot to talk about the real blessing I got. I went to a church close by our house and sat down on the back row in an empty space. When the service was over the man sitting next to me spoke to me saying he was glad I had visited their chruch. He smiled at me and shook my hand. That was a real blessing for me today.
Later in the day I went to Red Earth Festival down town. I walked around looking at the art work of the many, many Native American Artists. It was fantastic. One stall had the art work of Dorothy Tidwell Sullivan, a Cherokee Master Artist. I really liked some of her work that had turtles on it. I bought one greeting card that had turtles on it. As I was paying for the card I mentioned to her that I had a trutle at home. She said she had had a turtle also but it passed away. She said she was really sad that it had died. I understood. I asked her how long she'd had her turtle and she said about 17 months or so. I told her about my turtle who was blind and we had to hand feed her every day and give her water in a bowl. She poops in the water so we wash it with soap and water each time she uses it. The bowl is stainless steal so it comes clean. I told her that I'd had my turtle for over 30 years and her name is Chiquitita. This dear lady gave me the cutest print of three turtles dancing. I love it.
NDN Art Gallery: Dorothy Sullivan {Cherokee}
Dorothy Tidwell Sullivan "Cherokee Master Artist" Norman, OK.
"Dorothy's Art is Inspired by pride in her Cherokee history,
culture and legends. She was selected as the Honored One and
Master Artist of the Red Earth Festival 1999. Her painting,
"But This Is My Home" was the poster for the 1999 Trail of
Tears Art Show at the Cherokee National Museum, Tahlequah, OK."
http://www.southwestindianarts.net/shopping/pgm-more_information.php?id=461&=SID#MOREINFO
http://www.southwestindianarts.net/shopping/start.php
What a priceless gift Dorothy Tidwell Sullivan gave me today. She was so kind to me. It was like having a real mother for just a few moments. Thank you so much Dorothy.
As I left the convention center there was a black lady who had been cleaning. I was wondering how the carpets were vacuumed because it was so big. I couldn't imagine this small lady pushing a giant vacuum around. About that time I looked down at the carpet. This lady turned to me and said, "Hello, how are you today? Have a wonderful evening." What a blessing.
Sunday Blessings were the man at church saying hello to me, Dorothy Tidwell Sullivan's lovely gift of Dancing Turtles, and the black lady saying hello to me. You see I have to go most places alone and I wonder what it would be like to be cherished enough to have a friend or husband who would go with me. Today was God's way of saying he went with me, he noticed me, he cherishes me enough to have others notice me.
