I don’t know where to begin. There were so many emotions and most of them were overwhelming. I could attempt to go chronologically but I’d be writing for days.
I took pictures of everything I could… because I realize that this may very well be the last time I see my line sister. I’m really going to miss her so much.
We got to the “church” on time. It was inside of a strip mall on a road in GA. After the fact I realized that there was a billboard as big as all outdoors advertising the “church” with a picture of the main folks in the congregation on there… And T. There she was, smiling bright, right among them. It shot a pang of fear through my heart. Fear about how far gone she is.
We walk in and the foyer of the “church” is gapingly big with a scripture written on the wall and we all sign in at the book. Once we finish signing in, we walk down a VERY DARK hall. I have terrible night vision, so I start getting scared, but my baby held my hand and told me to let him guide me. We walk into what looks like a… convention meeting room. Decked out in purples and puces and the seats were filling up. More on the F/H’s side than on T’s side. We went and sat down. This was about 2:00. About 20 minutes go by and my sisters walk in… Vern, Bertie, Max and countless friends from Pace. I gave them strong hugs and expressed how much I missed them. Then, at about 2:30, the ceremony began. It seemed modest enough. Not knowing who any of these people were, it didn’t impress anything upon me. Besides the fact that who seemed to be the “pastor” had on some purple now-and-later-gators that matched the purple pin stripes in his zoot suit. But I just thought… hey… that must be the style down here. Mo, Jen and Chanda come walking up the aisle, looking beautiful. Faces stoic. No happiness on them. Just seriousness. The mothers came in looking young and proud. Then… the music changed… And out came T… my sister. BEAUTIFUL in her wedding gown simply glowing. It was too much emotion for me. Right then, I was a proud sister watching my sister grow up and move on. I momentarily forgot about all the horribly negative stuff that was being told to me about this union, and just lost myself in that emotion. I started to cry and i looked over and saw Mo roll her eyes at me and I smiled and rolled mine too. Wait till you see the pictures. She was gorgeous.
And then she walked up to the “altar” for the ceremony. Here’s where all the warm fuzzies stop. No more tingles. No more happy feelings. This “church” had NO symbols of Christ anywhere. Not a cross. Not a nothin’. The “altar” was a platform that just made whoever was standing on it taller than the cats in the group on the floor… She got up there and that’s when the drama began. Pastor MakeADolla started with a sermon where he decided he was going to change the word to make it appropriate for the ceremony (funny… I didn’t know humans had the authority to do that…) Then the part that would normally invite anyone who had an objection to the wedding to speak now or forever hold their peace. Instead, PMAD said, “Anyone who had an objection to the wedding or got in the way of the wedding or had any negative thoughts about the wedding or wasn’t FOR the wedding and wasn’t encouraging the wedding going in a positive direction was here unto CURSED.
CURSED???????? at a church? REALLY???????
I’m mad as hell I made it 30 years as a young Haitian woman and I first get cursed in a Black American Non-Denominational “church”. What a disgrace. I shook my head. Mo, Jen and Chanda held hands up front. And the entirety of my sistren behind me took account of the fact that their lives were now doomed to fail. The rest of the debacle took place complete with laying of hands and speaking in tongues which I found to be totally crazed and I bore witness to it all. Everything from the selling (yes… I said selling) of the DVD of her wedding or just the CD of today’s sermon (HUH???) for half the cost; to her registry talking about giving money to the Lord in increments of 50 dollars of which she needed 300 of those (that’s 15,000 dollars for the mathematically impaired); to her doing all but denouncing her letters… referring to our sisterhood as “THAT organization” like she was spitting something rotten and bitter out of her mouth.
When I post the pictures, it will seem like everything and everyone was all well and good, but don’t be deceived. We were ALL traumatized by this event. Most of all because of how completely different our sister has become and the fear that she’ll never be the same again. Wouldn’t feel SO bad if it felt REAL. I got a horrid feeling about her husband *sigh*… just a selfish, self-centered, “she is now mine – one of my things” kind of attitude. I really hope that she hasn’t bitten off more than she could chew.
There will be more. I just have to regroup and compose myself. I better get it all out before the curse has me swallowing my own tongue or I end up in a tragic accident that severs my hands at the wrists.