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eighty-seven f

Reflections Church

T ime, like God, works in mysterious ways. When you’re young, a day lasts forever, and a year is an eternity. As you grow older, a year passes as quickly as a month once did.

Before I realized what had happened, ten years had flown by. I’d built up a successful clientele, Shelley and I continued to be best buddies, and I’d deepened my relationship with Jesus.

One of my newer clients, Vera, sat in my chair for a mani and pedi. “You’re a Christian, aren’t you, Ava?”

“Yes, how’d you know?”

“The cross around your neck, your manner, your speech. It’s all there.”

My hand went to the gold cross I wore day and night. “It’s my life.”

“Mine, too,” Vera agreed. “Where do you worship?”

“Grande View. And you?”

“I was at Grande View for years,” she said. “Then I felt like I was outgrowing the church.”

I interrupted, something I rarely did. “I feel the same way. It’s gotten stale.”

“I started church shopping a while back. I finally settled on Reflections Church. The music will blow you away.”

On my break, I did an Internet search for Reflections. I loved what I read: Reflections believed in diversity, authenticity, and celebrating Jesus. They spoke of the Trinity—God the Father, Jesus his son, and the Holy Spirit that lives in every Christian. Reflections was led by a team of men and women—young and old, white, black, and brown. Their photos on the website welcomed me.

I called Shelley. “Have you heard of Reflections Church?”

“Funny you should ask,” she replied. “I just read some good stuff about the place. Why, do you want to go this Sunday?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Wow,” I whispered to Shelley as we entered Reflections. “I wish we’d known about this place sooner. Think of all the Sundays we could’ve worshipped here.”

Shelley nodded. “But we’re here now.”

The music, the energy, and the pastor’s message were spot-on. The sanctuary was enormous and resonated with the Holy Spirit. Dress was casual, and the congregants enthusiastic and friendly. I never wanted to leave.