Pride In The Pews Novels & Stories

Arthur delivered a message of healing, justice, and mercy—three tenets their community desperately needed. In the front pew sat Sarah, the young girl Catherine had once shamed and expelled. Now clothed with dignity and surrounded by her new family in Christ, she wept through the sermon. Behind her sat widows, orphans, merchants, and even skeptics—united not by tradition, but by hope.

"We are so blessed to be here today to worship in the lord's vineyard, a lot want to be here but one thing or the other prevented us from coming to church today, either they were sick or in the mortuary, for me, that's the only reason that could make someone not to be in the house of the lord but we all are this morning to glorify the name of the lord, there is no greater joy than this somebody shout alleluia," "Alleluia!," The congregation shouted. "This Sunday is specially made for the youth, we have a special person in our mist today and I would like to call her into the alter to preach to us, to fill us with God's knowledge in her, I would love to call on, Mrs. Lindsey Winslow," Pastor C

The choir sang hymns that made the floor vibrate. I sat in the front row. Eli on one side. My mother on the other. Amina had flown down that morning. She sat behind me, her hand on my shoulder. The pastor talked about my grandmother's life. Her faith. Her strength. Her love. He talked about how she had picked cotton as a child and cleaned houses as a woman and still found time to pray for everyone she knew. "When Cora Williams prayed," he said, "heaven listened." I stood up to give the eulogy. My legs were shaking. Eli squeezed my hand.

He kept his head slightly bowed, trying to look reverent while his mind screamed. His father finally climbed the podium at exactly 8:00 PM. The congregation hushed. Pastor Wright stood tall in his crisp black suit, Bible open in his hands, eyes sweeping over the room with that familiar commanding presence. He looked every bit the spiritual authority. “Tonight,” he began, voice booming through the speakers, “we are here to wage war against the forces of darkness. The Lord has laid a heavy burden on my heart. Our topic this evening… is the sin of homosexuality.”

To hide no longer. So this Sunday, when the church fills with whispers, shuffling steps, rustling coats, I feel my legs tremble. Families settle in, children fidget, the elderly kneel. All the faces I know, all those who have seen me pray, preach, bless. Those who have entrusted me with their secrets, their dead, their births. They wait for me, confident, certain that my voice will be clear and steady as always. But today, my voice must tremble.

I smiled at her once we made eye contact on glancing back and focused quickly on the priest who came onto the podium then. "Gathered here today are we all to commend the soul of Mrs. Juliette Winchester-Wright into God's care and to offer comfort to those who mourn. We come not only with heavy hearts but also with faith, trusting in the promise of eternal life and the boundless mercy of our Creator." "Death, though painful—"

I was trying to clear my mind on the couch while he tries to make use of the time to get my perspective on the wedding. “I’d like the church to be at the St. Peter Cathedral. The theme would be just fine if it's all white so it would be neutral. For the decorations, it is nice to be surrounded by gems and flowers. I know that you haven’t seen me wearing something with flowers on them nor have seen my interior in such abundant designs but I don’t hate them. It’s just that it’s more convenient and practical, especially for a home located on the top of a company building.” “Oh Alright, How about for your gown? Should the team decide on it?”

There was nothing in this world that was entirely for free and there had to be a price. "The reason why clothes are provided is because there's a standard of dressing that's required here. Just take it as an all expense paid holiday. If you're worried about the Prince coming onto you or expecting anything in return then don’t. He really doesn’t like women. There's a separate entrance for those from the fourth floor and higher so chances of you seeing him are close to none.” What Lexy was saying made a lot of sense.It would be rude for her to walk around in her jeans and ts.

What my father did tell me was he wasn’t going to stand for disloyalty and if anyone came after me, they would be put down. I wondered what Fynn would think of me if he saw me now and his smiling face came to mind just as we walked into the church. It was packed and my attention was drawn to the fact that everyone was looking at us. We stood at the entrance as we were announced. My dad waited for a moment and I realized he was waiting to make sure literally everyone was looking at us. Then we started the slow walk down the aisle and suddenly it felt as if this walk was going to take forever. I could feel the hatred being sent my way. When we finally reached the front, my father walked up the

No one noticed them at all. Behind the bolted, storm-beaten doors of the Nain Lutheran Church, Reverend Julian tilted his head back and applied some eyedrops into his rheumy eyes. He squeezed them shut, grimacing in the murk. He looked up and winked mockingly at the Christ statue, whose sorrowful face seemed to sadden even more in the shadows. Julian smoothed his loose, wispy strands of snow-white hair into place and switched on the old church’s electric lights without warning. His Native American associate didn’t flinch, did not even blink. Wiping his eyes with a handkerchief, the Reverend turned to look upon the man at the doors. “I’m disappointed, Prarsheen,” he said. “I thought that you,