365 # 127: Sidney B.

You were a quiet gentleman that my mom hired to take care of her lawn for a while. You always came with lots of help and did an outstanding job. In addition to yard work, you also did a bit of preaching, and you always invited my mom to come out to your church some time to see you sermonizing. Every time she and you were arranging your next time to come do some work, you always said you'd show up at the appointed hour "if the Lord's willing." One Sunday, my mom and I got all dressed up and we drove to the neighborhood where your church sat. We were two of the only white faces in the congregation. The whole service was loud, hot, raucous, and real. But the shock came when you took the pulpit, and the quiet little man we'd known was replaced with a wholly different entity, one made of fire, energy, and spirit. I couldn't take my eyes off of you. I've lost a lot of the mental pictures that I've snapped over the years, but I still have the one I took of you at the front of that sweaty little church. Amen.