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Praise Him Anyhow - Volume 1 Page 13
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Page 13
“I hope you don’t mean that, Joy. Nelson may have done a lot of wrong, but he loves you.”
Unyielding, Joy said, “I don’t trust him… and I think he’s as guilty as sin.”
“Have you done what I asked you to do yet?”
Joy wracked her brain, but couldn’t come up with anything that her mom had asked her to do. When Carmella first started her business, Joy had been assigned as the go-get-it girl. Her mother would need flour or cream cheese or baking pans and Joy would run to the store and go get the stuff. But she hadn’t been called on to do any of that in a long while. “I don’t recall that you asked me to do anything.”
“Joy, don’t you remember that I asked you to start talking to God about some of the things that have been bothering you?”
“Oh… yeah, I remember you saying that asking questions of God might be the loudest praise song I’ve ever sung. And believe me, Mom, your words touched me. But I still don’t see what good talking to God is going to do at this point in my life.”
“Hold that thought,” Carmella said as she got down from her kitchen stool and ran upstairs toward her bedroom. When she returned she was carrying a multi-colored journal. She handed the journal to Joy.
Joy looked at it. Three dancing women paraded about at the bottom of the front cover. The words, When the Praises go up, the Blessings rain down! were plastered at the top of the cover. “I just told you that I didn’t want to talk to God. And now you want me to write to Him? I don’t get it.”
“You’ll get it if you give it a try. I just simply want you to jot down how you’re feeling. Tell God what hurts and why you are still so angry with your dad and with Him, for that matter. But then I also want you to take the time to tell God when something happens that makes you smile.” Carmella stopped talking, took a deep breath and then continued. “What I’m hoping you’ll discover from your self-examination, is that life really isn’t that bad. And that God has given you plenty of good days.”
“My life is going just fine, Mom. You act as if I need to be placed on suicide watch or something.” Joy didn’t understand why her mother was always harping on her about this. She had done pretty well for herself… hadn’t she gone back to law school and finished, just as her mother had asked her to do? She had even been moving up the ladder in the DA’s office—that is, until she managed to get her first verbal warning.
“Your professional life is fine, for now. But the God-centered life you used to have is dead, and I’m just trying to help you resurrect it.” Carmella pointed at the journal. “Will you do this for me? I promise you, if you give it a try, God will show up for you. And your eyes will begin to open to other possibilities as well… like the possibility of a loving relationship, maybe even with Lance Bryant. I mean, the man did kiss you today, right?”
Joy blushed. She couldn’t believe that she had opened her mouth and told her mother about kissing a man while she was supposed to be working. “Why do I tell you all of my business?” There was a joking tone to Joy’s voice.
But there was no laughter in Carmella’s voice as she answered, “I know exactly why you tell me everything… I’m the only one you trust.”
Joy opened her mouth to deny that, but she couldn’t think of anyone else that she had willingly let into her world. So she closed her mouth and let her mother finish the indictment.
“You refuse to make friends because of the way Jasmine betrayed you. You refuse to date or give love a try, because of the way your father treated me.” Carmella put her arms around Joy, hugged her real tight as she added, “You’re a grown woman, living on your own these days, but when I look at you I am reminded of that seven-year-old-girl who ran in the house after school one day and declared that she was never leaving the house again because the kids at school were too mean.”
“Those kids were mean,” Joy declared.
“Yeah, but you got over it. You kept going back to school and day by day, things got better for you. This is the same thing, Joy. And if you need to dig deep to find some strength from that seven year old you used to be, then that’s what I need you to do.”
That incident at school occurred a little over twenty years ago, but Joy still remembered how she’d run into the house and tried to hide under the covers on her bed. Her mother had come into the room, sat down on her bed and listened as Joy had cried and confessed to having a hard time in her new school. Carmella’s ready answer had been prayer. Joy had gotten down on her knees that afternoon and prayed for all the mean girls. When she went back to school and the girls were still mean to her, Joy told her mother that prayer didn’t work. But Carmella told her that she needed to keep on praying. Within a couple of weeks, the meanest girl, Sally something-or-other had gotten sick and was out of school for two weeks. Joy had asked her mom to take her to Sally’s house so she could pray with the girl. They did that and when Sally came back to school, she told everyone how nice Joy had been to her… problem solved.
“I just don’t know if a seven year old’s answers will work for my current problems.”
“You’ll never know, unless you give it a try. Just consider it your own little praise journal,” Carmella told her.
Joy looked down at the journal in her hand and read the words on the cover again, When the Praises go up, the Blessings rain down! She didn’t know about that, but maybe she did need a new outlet for telling all her business. Since she didn’t have any friends outside of her mother, maybe this journal thing would work for her. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
***
When Joy arrived at work the next day, she went straight to Markus Gavin’s office. Since Markus was the senior ADA, he had the ear of the District Attorney and she was quite sure that Markus was upset after she’d been thrown off her father’s case. Markus probably felt that she’d made him look bad, so he’d ratted her out to the DA. When her boss first approached her about his concerns, Joy had been angry with Markus, but after hearing Lance, the DA and her mother tell her that she had no business on the case in the first place, she realized that she owed Markus an apology.
She knocked on his office door. Joy didn’t have an office, just a cubicle, but she had no doubt that she would one day move up to her own office also… if she could get her act together as the DA told her to do.
“Come in,” Markus said from inside the office.
Joy opened the door and stepped inside.
Markus immediately lifted a hand, halting her. “I don’t want to hear it. You deserve whatever you got from the DA.”
“Hey, I came in here to apologize to you, but if you don’t want to hear it, fine. I’ll just go back to my cubicle and get to work.”
Markus leaned back in his seat, studying Joy. “You must have gotten chewed out pretty bad to be in here begging my pardon.”
Markus was a good ADA, but he was a real jerk. “Nobody chewed me out.” Okay, she was lying about that. “But after careful consideration, I realized that I shouldn’t have been so anxious to be a part of a case against my father in the first place.”
“Didn’t you used to work in his office?”
Joy nodded. “While I was in law school.”
“Did you notice any improprieties?”
“Everything was handled above board when I worked there. Never once heard anyone claim that their case had been fixed.”
“Then why do you believe he’s guilty?” Markus asked, still studying her.
Even as she said, “I have my reasons,” Joy heard her mother declaring that her father wasn’t guilty of the crime. And for one brief moment she felt ashamed that she wasn’t even willing to give her own father the benefit of the doubt.
“Anyway, I just wanted to apologize.” Joy rushed out of Markus’ office and made her way back to her cubicle. She had been so sure that her father was guilty the day before, so why was she letting her mother’s words get into her head and cause her to second guess herself? And why was Lance Bryant leaning against her cubicle, staring at her as if she was a
strawberry that had been double dipped in chocolate. “What are you doing here?” she asked as she strode past him into her cubicle.
Lance followed her and sat down in the chair on the side of her desk. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Joy leaned over and lowered her voice as she said, “It wasn’t good enough to get me thrown off of my father’s case. I guess now you want to get me fired as well, huh?”
“Are you kidding? If I got you fired, your father would fire me. And plus, I doubt if you’d ever agree to have dinner with me if I got you fired,” Lance said with a sheepish look on his face.
Joy wasn’t in a playing mood. “What do you want, Lance?”
“Okay well, we can talk about the date later.”
“I’m not going out on a date with you. You’re defending my father and this office is prosecuting him.” Lance was fine… she didn’t know too many women who wouldn’t be drooling over him, and some would ask him out themselves. But Joy wasn’t about to get caught up in some man who would probably be cheating on her two seconds after she said, ‘I do’.
“As I said, we can save the date for later,” Lance persisted. “But I do need help with your father’s case.”
Joy forgot to whisper as she exploded. “Is this a joke? Are you and my father trying to play a little game of entrapment?”
Lance started waving his hands. “No Joy, you’ve got it all wrong. I wouldn’t do that to you. I just think the DA’s office is making a big mistake by prosecuting this case and I thought you’d like to do something about it.”
“What would ever make you think a thing like that?” Lance had called her cold-hearted, but he didn’t know the half of it. Her heart had iced over where her father was concerned.
“Nelson is your father, Joy,” Lance said, as if reminding her of a neglected fact. “I would think that fact alone would at least earn him the benefit of the doubt.”
“Well you thought wrong. This office didn’t bring a frivolous case against your client. But if you believe so much in my father, then I suggest you prove us wrong, rather than asking me to do your job for you.”
“You’re wrong, Joy. And you owe your father more loyalty than this.” Lance stood and walked out of her cubicle without so much as a glance backward.
Guess he no longer wants that date. Joy tried to pretend that Lance’s dismissal didn’t bother her, but in truth, it bothered her that anyone would try to act as if it was somehow her fault that her father might be a criminal. It was that might word that lingered in her brain. Joy was ready to pronounce her father guilty, but something kept nagging at her. She couldn’t figure out what it was, but knew that she had missed something. When Joy turned her attention to her desk, she found herself staring at the journal her mother had given her. She was conflicted, so she decided to take the advice of the only person she trusted.
She opened the journal. At the top of the page a scripture from Proverbs 3:5, Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. After reading those words, Joy wasn’t just conflicted, she was angry. She wrote:
I used to trust that You could do anything. But how can I trust You anymore when You allowed my father to cheat on my mother and desert his family? And now I’m supposed to feel bad about thinking my father is guilty when he’s the one who should be ashamed of himself.
And why, oh why did you send Lance Bryant my way? That man is hot. He’s too fine to resist.
Did she really just say that while writing in her journal to God? And why was she writing to God in the first place? It wasn’t as if He was listening to her anyway. Her mother was the only one who still believed in fairy tales these days. Joy closed the journal and got back to the real world.
5
Three days had passed since Joy’s first praise journal entry. In that time another person had come forward, claiming that he had paid her father for a not-guilty verdict. The only problem with this guy’s claim was that he was behind bars while making it. The DA’s office was trying to figure out if Nelson took the money and just didn’t return the favor, or if the claim was false altogether. Since she’d worked for her father several years back, everyone was looking to her to provide answers. But what could she tell them? She never noticed any illegal activity going on when she worked in her father’s office, but she didn’t know the Nelson Marshall who’d recently been arrested.
At home that night, Joy opened the journal and began to write about how hurt she had been to find out that her father was no longer her hero. She no longer believed in fairy tales and happily ever after and Joy not only blamed her dad for that—she blamed God, also. And every word she wrote in that journal let the Lord know just how she felt. After she had written five letting-God-know-just-what-she-thought pages, Joy closed her journal and went to bed.
After putting all of her hurts and pains on paper the night before, Joy was feeling pretty stress free as she drove into work the next morning. But when she parked her car, got out and saw Jasmine walking towards her, her stress level crept back up. “What are you doing here? Do I need to get a restraining order against you or what?”
Swinging her red lamb skin Chanel handbag, Jasmine strutted closer. “Why would you want to get a restraining order against your stepmom?”
“You are not my stepmother, my friend or anything else, just stay away from me.” Joy tightened her grip on her briefcase and walked past Jasmine.
“Don’t walk away from me, Joy. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to talk to you.” Jasmine caught up with Joy. “Your dad needs you to be a character witness for him.”
Joy stopped in her tracks, and just about spit the words, “My dad has no character,” in Jasmine’s face.
“Why are you so ungrateful? You never wanted for anything, because Nelson did everything for you. Now that he needs you, you’re M. I. A.”
“Why don’t you be a character witness for him, Jasmine? You can go to court and tell the jury just how upstanding and honorable your boyfriend is. Then you can tell them how you pretended to be my friend so you could sleep with my father and steal him away from his family.” Joy put her hands on the door to go into the building. She turned back to Jasmine and said, “If you continue to follow me, I’m going to have the security guards arrest you.”
As Joy walked into the building, Jasmine held the door open and yelled, “We’re going to have you subpoenaed, so you’re going to have to testify one way or the other.”
It infuriated Joy that Jasmine even had the nerve to come and ask her for anything after all that she had done to her. It had all happened a little over five years ago, but Joy still thought about it as though it had happened only yesterday… she couldn’t make herself forget and she certainly couldn’t forgive…
“You better be glad we’re friends, Jasmine. Because I would have to charge you for making me carry this heavy headboard if we weren’t,” Joy put the headboard down and massaged her arm.
Jasmine Walker grinned. “You know I appreciate you, girl.”
“Well, I would appreciate this mystery man of yours, if he showed up to do the heavy lifting.”
Jasmine poked her bottom lip out. “He’s at work, Joy. Come on, help me load this stuff on the truck, and I promise I’ll make him take everything off the truck.”
They picked up the headboard and made their way to the truck. “So, I’m finally going to meet this mystery man who swept you off your feet, but never bothered to pick you up for dates.” Joy rolled her eyes. “I truly don’t understand why you’ve kept on seeing him. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never let a guy treat you so cavalierly.”
They placed the headboard in the truck, and then Jasmine said, “Well, he’s made up for it now, hasn’t he?”
“I don’t know, Jasmine… renting is temporary. If he were really serious, he would have bought the house and bought a ring.”
Jasmine put her arm around Joy’s shoulder as they walked back into the house to get the rest of her t
hings. “You’ll see, Joy Marshall, my man loves me, and he’s going to prove it to the world.”
They packed all of Jasmine’s bedroom furniture in the U-Haul truck, Jasmine jumped behind the wheel and Joy got in on the passenger’s side. As they drove down the highway toward Jasmine’s new home.
“We’re here.” Jasmine pulled the U-Haul truck into the driveway of a spacious two-story home.
Joy’s eyes widened as she looked at the house. From the looks of the outer structure, Joy figured the house had to be at least four thousand square feet. “Are you sharing this place with another couple or something?”
Jasmine laughed. She then shook her head. “No, he likes to entertain, so we needed enough room to be able to host parties.”
“You sound like my mother. She’s always hosting one party or another for my dad. You need to go take some cooking lessons from her so you can really do your parties up right,” Joy suggested.
“Girl, please, I don’t plan to do any cooking. That’s what caterers are for,” Jasmine opened the truck door and got out. Joy opened her door and followed Jasmine into the house.
Standing in the foyer, Joy was once again struck by the expansiveness of the house. The white marble floors, spiral staircase and the upstairs balcony that overlooked the foyer—all gave the house a feel of importance, as if someone with stature and influence lived there. “How can your guy afford to rent a house like this?” She knew it was rude to ask, but the question was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
“Girl, just help me get those boxes out of the truck and stop being so nosey,” Jasmine said with a good-natured grin on her face.
“I just can’t believe this place, Jasmine. Troy and I sure can’t afford anything like this.”