Chronicles of Janice B. Life from the “A” – No the Other “A” – Asheville Strongholds

A good definition for stronghold is a major center or area of predominance.  I heard a sermon this past Sunday regarding strongholds.  The pastor distinguished between an environment and a

stronghold.  The pastor stated that you could change your environment, as it is not permanent.  With some tweaks you can create a new environment.  However, as the definition stated, and the pastor agreed that a stronghold is an entirely different beast.   A stronghold is such that an area of predominance something that is not easily broken.  You have to bust out of a stronghold.  You have to escape it as soon as possible.  You have to consult with a higher power to overcome your stronghold.  And you have to do something drastic to get away from particular strongholds.

The pastor told a story about how he actually moved his family out of a poor neighborhood and moved to a more affluent neighborhood because everyone in the old neighborhood had a poverty mentality.  He stated that the mentality of that neighborhood was so detrimental to those that lived there and anyone who would move in there that no one could break that stronghold.  Negativity breeds negativity.  Once negativity gets a deep hold of the person it is hard to shake it

I guess in a sense I did the same as the pastor. I moved from Atlanta to Asheville to break my own personal stronghold of always thinking that I needed a “professional” job and that my passion for writing should only remain a passion. I believed that I could only make money by working jobs that I don’t like i.e. “professional” jobs.  It’s that old fashion mentality that you must get a job, stay there for 30 years and then retire with a gold watch.  The only problem with that is, you’re left empty.  You wondered where your life went and why you let it slip away.

Since moving, I have surrounded myself with like-minded people who are artist, writers, and educators.  They are passionate about their craft.  It is exciting to come alive again.  Just surrounding myself with like-minded people is helping me to grow.  I would suggest that anyone who is struggling with a job they don’t like or dancing around a passion to stop and think if your life would be better with that horrible job or without following your passion.  I assure you that if you don’t follow your true passion and be true to your authentic self you are shortchanging your life.  Here’s a hint, when you are not living your authentic life you WILL be miserable.  You will remain miserable until you get back to you!

Do yourself a favor.  Follow your heart.  Do what you love to do.  You will thank yourself later when you are 80 years old.  No regrets right!?

Enjoy the Journey! 

Feel free to follow me on Facebook, twitter, or www.janicebrantle.com

Chronicles of Janice B. Life from the “A” – No the Other “A” – Asheville Dreams

Chronicles of Janice B.

Life from the “A” – No the Other “A” – Asheville

Dreams

One of my new favorite quotes is “The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams” Oprah Winfrey.  As all of you know I moved to Asheville to do just that ~ become the great writer that I know is inside of me!!! LOL.  So I have been working on my third novel called Angel’s War.  I am going to provide you with a sneak preview of the novel.  I would like for each of you to read it and provide a detailed analysis (just a fancy way of saying what’s your opinion of the story J) Now it’s a total rough draft so please don’t contact me about grammar errors!  That’s why I pay an editor!  LOL.  Now the first two people who email me back with a detailed opinion ~ meaning more than just “I like the story etc. (you need to at least tell me in a couple of paragraphs why you like it or why you don’t like it) will get a free copy of one of my other books.  So here goes:

Angel’s War

Prolog

                  “You fucking cu..”. The Bishop yelled slowly rising from his massive desk.

                  “My my my, choice words for a Bishop.”

                  “You think you can ruin me?  Huh you little bitch!”

                  “You have a stellar vocabulary.  I see your fancy college education is paying off. If your congregation could see you now.” The Bishop was fully erect now.  He reached under his desk and pulled out a silver plated nine millimeter, placing it on top of the desk.  He had all sorts of thoughts running through his mind.  He just couldn’t go out like this.  He’s been on top far to long to let some little smartass bitch take him down like he was nothing. Blinding rage clouded his vision.  He gripped his gun harder.  His hearing was muffled.  The last thing he heard was,

                  “Great now the big bad Bishop needs to hide behind a gun?  What you gonna do shoot me?  Go ahead shoot me.  You fucking coward….BANG.  The gun went off, the smoke cleared…

Chapter 1

                  “Help me!” Jamelah better known as Angel screamed as she woke up from her fitful nap.  Thank God no one noticed as usual, the church was in a frenzy from some bullshit sermon the Bishop was preaching. Angel couldn’t shake the dream she just had. It was creepy she thought. Still fuzzy, all she could remember was some dark figure surrounding her taunting, “so you think you’re the chosen one.”  It felt so real but I’m in church she thought.  Aren’t demons afraid of church? She asked herself. All though her father was the bishop she tried not to get too much into religion.  Religion was a farce.

                  Angel closed her eyes trying to go back to sleep desperately trying to drown out her father’s sermon.  Although, fiery, she just couldn’t take hearing him anymore.  She had no respect for the man who proclaimed he was appointed by God to save this heathen world.  She saw her father commit some despicable acts growing up including bribing the registrar’s office to get her into school. Angel intentionally got expelled.               

That’s my dad the great Bishop EL Tate, Angel thought sitting in the first pew at Greater Missionary Vision church. The E L stands for Edward Lawrence but for some reason the Bishop always says E.L. as if it gives him greater importance. “He’s going to hell.”  Angel whispered to herself as she slumps down into her seat wishing she could disappear. She hated this church and hated her father even more.

                  At the age of nineteen Angel was a self-proclaimed atheist.  She hated everything about organized religion.  She felt that Greater Missionary Baptist was no more than a well ran mob and her father the biggest gangster in the South. 

The church was the biggest mega church in the southeast.  It owned banks.  It developed housing communities. It owned several grocery stores and the church was embarking on their biggest venture yet, a multimillion dollar shopping mall outside the city of Atlanta.

                  “Call me Poppa”, still rings in her ears.  She was dropped off on his doorstep at the tender age of two when the first lady’s armor bearer realized the “Great Bishop E.L. Tate” was not under any circumstances going to leave his wife for her. Some way he got rid of her but wanted to keep his flesh and blood near him.  The rumor is he killed her.  She was never seen again. He didn’t do it with his own hands because of course the “Great E. L. Tate couldn’t have blood on them.  He instructed his right hand man to do it.  All his dirty works goes through him and I am sure he was all too happy to oblige in this situation.

                  His right hand man was Gregory Hobbs, Belinda Hobbs’ husband.  Belinda was my slut of a mother who thought she could seduce my dad away from Momma Sessilee of course I couldn’t just call her momma.  That would have been too painful for her especially since she couldn’t have children of her own.  I was a constant reminder of her husband’s indiscretion and her bareness.  I could see her hatred of me in her eyes.  I can’t blame her though.  Her husband trying to pass me off has her child, while everyone in the church knew I was a bastard and she so desperately trying to give him an heir to the so called Tate religious empire. 

                  Momma Sessilee basically bought my father. Momma Sessilee’s family is the richest family in our community and the most gangster.  Her father the honorable Bishop Telfalgar ran the city of Athens.  He had the biggest Baptist church in the area.  His church had 8 thousand members.  That was unheard of in that area especially with a population of 86 thousand people.  He was the man in the area.  Whatever he said went.  Every politician was at his beck and call.  They knew without his endorsement they were nothing and without his say nothing would get accomplished.

                  With all his power and influence Bishop Telfalgar was very unhappy.  His wife was unable to give him an heir. After ten years of marriage she was only able to produce a simple minded daughter, Sessilee.  He loved his daughter so much but she was dumb as a box of rocks.  All he could ever hope for was she married well.  He wanted her to marry a strong man of god someone he could trust to take over his empire and expand it. 

He prayed for that day and night.  As soon as she graduated from high school he sent her to Atlanta to Spellman in hopes of meeting a good man. Not just any man a Morehouse man.  One who was trained and equipped to be leaders and pillar’s of the community. 

 They both were happy she brought daddy home. But really looking at it I think my Dad got the better end of the deal.  He was a skinny black boy from Alabama.  He came to the big city in hopes of making it big.  His dusty little church in Muscle Shoals, AL wasn’t enough for him.  He had mega church dreams.  Sessilee was the first person he met fresh off the bus.  He was a Morehouse man.  Sessilee was a Spellman girl.  They were inseparable from their freshman year that is after Sessilee brought the daddy to her father’s church and then to their home for dinner.

The good bishop saw the extravagance of their home.  It was a 3 story brick Tudor home secluded off an expansive lake. The house was patterned after Queen Elizabeth herself.  It was nestled in a thicket of trees as if it had its very own forest. No one could see it from the road.  It was a mini castle nestled all by itself and Jack Trefalgar was the king.

When you stepped through the door you were in a grand foyer bejeweled with gold trim and rich opulent red high back queen Ann chairs.  What got the bishop was the butler.  When he opened that door for the first time, and announced him, the bishop was astounded. All the bishop had to see was the wealth and he was hooked.  I don’t even think he liked Sessilee all that much.  He was hungry for the fame and fortune.  Grandpa Jack, Sessilee’s father was a well-respected pastor at that time.  His ministry just went televised.  He had more church investments and holdings than any other church in the tri-state area.  He was looked at as one of the first televangelist pioneers.

The story goes Grandpa Jack took an instant liking to Daddy.  He said he reminded him of himself when he was younger.  He said Daddy had that eye of the tiger look and Grandpa Jack knew instantly that he would take care of Momma Sessilee and the family business.  He was worried about that because he knew his child well.  She was beautiful but a simpleton.  She would never be able to run his empire.  They couldn’t have any more children so his only hope was for Sessilee to marry well. 

They had a world win courtship.  It was more like negotiated merger. After daddy’s third year in college, Grandpa Jack called him to the mansion for a discussion without Momma Sessilee.

“Edward, I called you here today because I want to discuss a very important matter.  Bishop Talfalger said.  He was sitting in his expansive office.  He chair to his massive King Henry desk looked as if he was sitting on a thrown.  He had this hard stare in his black beady eyes.  He was a large man.  He hands were the size of basketballs.  He was 6’6”, dark as tar with a full beard, and had a large scar over his left eye.  He claims he got the scar in a gang fight.  He states that fight almost cost him his life. He prayed that night in the hospital that if God spared his life he would forever be his servant.  Thirty years later he was still serving the lord with as much gusto as he had the day he left that hospital with his life.

“What’s on your mind Bishop?” Daddy replied. He was anxious.  He wanted the Bishop to mentor him.  He wanted so badly to be the heir of this empire. He worked so hard for the church.  Every time he could he was there when the doors opened and was the last one to leave.  He would come up on weekends just to help clean the church.  He started the college version of this ministry and became quite the charismatic minister.  He felt that he needed all the practice he could get.  He felt that he would be leading this great empire soon.  He even courted the Bishops’ daughter showering her with romance and love even though he was not in love with her.  He needed a woman with a little more sass, class and intelligence. Sessilee was beautiful but an airhead. He figured she was a means to an end.  He felt that she was his golden ticket.

“Ump.” The pastor cleared his throat. “You know I’m getting old and I can’t do the things I use to.  I’ve seen my ending.”

“No Bishop. Don’t talk like that.  You have many years left in you.” Edward said.

The Bishop raised his hands to halt Daddy from speaking. “I know when it’s my time.  The lord and I have a deep connection.  He’s told me to start grooming my predecessor.  I prayed and he led me to you.  I said Lord thank you because you would be an excellent successor.  I feel you care about this ministry and what it stands for as much if not more than I do.  And I’ve never seen a man treat my daughter with as much love and respect before.  That warms my heart. So I want you to take over my church.  I feel that you will take this ministry to the next level and bring us safely and godly into the new millennium.”

“Well Bishop I’m speechless, honored but speechless.” He stammered out knowing he wanted to shout for joy.  This was the moment he waited for all of his life.  “I’m not sure I can fill your shoes. I, I …”

“Son, I have faith in you.  God has faith in you.  I will take you under my wings as soon as you graduate your mentorship will start.  The only stipulation I have is that you marry my daughter and you love her and respect her till the day she dies. She is my pride you know.”

“I know. She’s my heart.  I can’t do any of this without her.” He said thinking silently how he could possibly get out of marriage but not coming up with any immediate solutions.  But that was a problem for another day.  Today he thought I am on top of the world.  He was going to make this the biggest ministry in the world.

Chapter 2

With the clash of the drums Angel was brought back to the present, Sunday mornings at Greater Missionary Baptist Church.  The drummer, Jeremiah at the end of a heated score would always end by pointing he left drumstick at Angel as if to say that one was for you. Angel was secretly in love with him; however she hated the fact that they called him Jesus Kid.  He lived and breathed the Holy Ghost and she believed wouldn’t be caught dead with a self proclaimed atheist. But to her surprise he always acknowledged her.  They had brunch every Sunday. Jeremiah was Gregory Hobbs’s son.  No one really knew where he came from.  About seven years ago, he showed up at church with ten year old Gregory.  He never gave an explanation and Daddy never asked for one.  It was as if he granted automatic acceptance as if they were now in the same fraternal order.

Brunch with Jeremiah became special to Angel.  He shared with her his God.  His God was loving and kind.  His God believed all people were good and loved them unconditionally.  People didn’t have to earn love unlike her household.  If she was a perfect Angel, Momma Sessilee would shower her with love.  If she didn’t do things quite her way she would be severely punished.  She got punished more then she got showered with love. In the beginning Angel tried hard to please Momma Sessilee but now she hated her and didn’t give a damn what she did or said.  Now that she was older and could fight back, Momma Sessilee just tried to stay out of her way.  Angel was just fine with that. 

Jeremiah tried his best to do what his Dad and Bishop Tate wanted.  They wanted him to persuade Angel into accepting the Lord and get saved. He couldn’t understand.  He liked Angel the way she was.  She was just misguided.

“Angel now that you’re not in school, what are your plans?” Jeremiah asked over bacon pancakes and a cheese omelet.

“Jer, you sound like my Daddy.” Angel replied over a bite of her own bacon pancakes they shared at the Original Pancake House.

“No seriously. I want to know.  I could use you, you know.”

“Use me how?”

“As the co youth minster.”

“You know I ain’t into that shit” Angel replied harshly.

“Must you use that language?” Jeremiah said softly as to defuse the situation.  He didn’t want to upset Angel.  She could go into a horrible rant about the evils of the so called Christian society and the poor state of the black church today.  He didn’t want to hear that. He just wanted to spend time with the girl he fell in love with.

“Hey if you want to help me, teach me to play the drums.” Angel replied she wanted to ease the hurt she just caused him so easily seen in his deep-set serious brown eyes.

“Drums” He said slowly lifting his head meeting her gaze.  He was trying to buy some time.  He was old fashioned like his father.  He didn’t believe a woman should play the drums. But if he teaches her he could spend more time with her.  He could keep her safe and near him.  Ever since he first laid eyes on her he felt this instinctive urge to keep her safe.

A smile slowly crossed his face as he realized that he could keep his promise to Bishop and his dad and spend time with Angel. “I would love to under two conditions. One we practice at the church and two, you have to become the co-drummer with me on Sundays.

Angel wrinkled her brow ready to protest but she knew Jeremiah.  He was as stubborn as a mule.  He wouldn’t budge on this one and besides church wasn’t so bad when no one was there.  She kind of liked it.  It was serene for her.  She felt comfortable, like she was at home or meant to be there. “Ok. No problem.  When do we start?” She replied cheerfully.

“Immediately.” Jeremiah said with a smile.