This book starts with a suspenseful robbery of a church's tithes and offering during a service and never lets up from there.
The dedication page quote warns us that this will be a heavy book:
Refusing to forgive requires the tedious upkeep of hatred. ~ Betty Palmer ~ DV Survivor
...so I wouldn't recommend it to someone who's looking for a light read. This story is good for people who like "ghetto romances" because there's enough "realism" for them, but it's deep enough to make it worthwhile for the Christian reader.
Excerpts:
A worldly eye sees the brass buckets being filled by a congregation of many that struggle with bills and debt, yet unwittingly extend themselves further to ensure that a man, already wealthy beyond their comprehension, will never again have to fly commercial. Financial sacrifice, however, is the prerogative of the giver and their God. Their praise is not for the man who sits in the most magnificent chair in the building; true praise is for God.
True praise is personal. Those who praise the fiercest, often convulsing with the Holy Ghost, have been through the most.
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By the joy in Rose’s praise, though, no one could tell that she’d received a death sentence. She, too, sings, There’s an army rising up/ There’s an army rising up/ To break every chain/ Break every chain/ Break every chain. So mature, now, in her short Christian walk, Rose’s praise is no campaign for healing, but a praise of gratefulness; knowing how God will strengthen her spirit, if not her body.
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One of the robbers has stopped and pointed his gun at Ameena and Rose who are huddled together and crying. Will dives between the gunman and the women, shielding them as he says, “You’ll have to kill me first!” The red devil in steel toe boots raises the gun to Will’s head, now preferring him. Will’s arms spread, ready for ascension. Tears spill from his eyes, leaving glistening tracks down his face. He fully believes he’ll be walking on a floor of clouds, directly, but mourns the thought of leaving without goodbyes to the people he loves. Will says, “You pull that trigger, you send me to paradise, but send yourself to a lake of fire.”
Old School doesn’t dare say a word for fear of Will recognizing his voice. He lowers the gun and runs to catch up to the other two.
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But even on such a day, a day of crisis, Charmaine won’t bite her tongue for long.
“Ameena,” Charmaine calls, from the kitchen. Ameena looks up from setting the dining room table.
“Yes, ma?” Charmaine stirs her pot, but the pot isn’t all she’s stirring. “Might ironic, how the same convicted felon you was settin’ up there judging, turned out to be the hero that saved your life.”
Ameena looks at her mother as if she’d expected as much. “An I-told-you-so just hours after I had a gun in my face? You are so wise, ma – if that’s what you need to hear.”
Charmaine’s head lay back. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. What you need to do is thank God and shut ya mouth.”
“I am grateful for what Will did, ma, but only that gunman knows if Will actually saved my life or not.”
“Child, you got a talent for making simple things complicated, you know that?”
“And you got a talent for making complicated things simple.” Charmaine huffs.
She sprinkles a little salt. She stirs and sips from a tasting spoon, her eyes stuck on Ameena, wondering how a creature like that came from her, being so poised, and dry – and judgmental to top it off. “You let that good man go, just to prove a point. Careful that’s how you end up in life: right but alone.”
“Can we not do this, ma?”
Charmaine echoes her own words, “Right, but alone.”
“Will and I were never together anyway. We were only friends.”
“Child, ain’t no such a thing as a man friend that tall and fine, hear me?”
Ameena studies Charmaine from the corner of her eye. “Ma, spare me please.”
“Spare me please,” the mother mocks. “Think ‘cause you speak proper, you speak smart, huh…” She turns the pot lid face down, head shaking, her indictment, a two-word song, “Jussa dumb…”
Will pulls up on time, in Ameena’s driveway, although he feels undeserving of her gratitude. He didn’t decide to jump in front of the gun; he’d acted without conscience. But since Ameena’s gratitude comes with an invitation to a home cooked meal, he couldn’t refuse. Ameena was apologetic over the phone when she told Will that dinner was only neck bones, collard greens and cornbread, but it sounded like lobster and caviar to the bachelor who normally eats from take-out boxes, or from a pot of spaghetti – the one meal he knows how to prepare.
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I received a free copy of this book via Booksprout and am voluntarily leaving a review.