Today was my pastor, Brian Z Evans’s, third anniversary at First Baptist Church of Nutley. I am very happy to have him as my pastor and I know the rest of the church body is grateful as well. I had to praise dance, sing in the choir and usher.
Ushering = welcoming the guest, making sure they are seated, making sure they do not disrupt the service, making sure their basic needs are covered ie fans, bathroom directions, tithing envelopes, programs.
Praise dancing = Using dance as a ministry but praising God. Here’s an example:
Although, it’s not us.
Sing in choir = Yall know what that is.
That’s usually what I do once a month. But this was a special day. So in addition to my normal duties I had to serve dinners. And could you believe that some of these people were getting nasty because they had to wait for their plate. I mean, I understand the frustration but honestly the nastiness – the last place it should be is in the church. Luckily for me, seven years of customer service helped me cruise pass disgruntled customers. Honestly, we were disorganized but the constant confusion of people coming up asking for a plate mixed in with people who had just came in asking for a plate did all but set the kitchen on fire.
But for those serving the plates it probably felt that way, =-(
After washing dishes, I ran back upstairs to usher; of which I was the only one. All by myself except for my kind mother who is not an usher but was sitting close enough to urgently grab my attention for someone who needed a fan or envelope.
Nisa! Nisa! She wants a fan!
Nisa! Nisa! The lady over there – look!
Nisa! Nisa! She’s calling you!
“Yes mommy,” I say as calmly as I can muster for I was determined to prove I had had home training and escape embarrassment.
Then, I had to stand up in church and do the welcome for a second service. And all I had to do was welcome them. But then I started sweating, my stomach started hurting, the room was spinning.
It honestly wasn’t that bad and surprisingly enough I didn’t stumble. Yay! But I was tired yall. I was tired. The church who came in the afternoon, Fellowship Baptist – my pastor’s home church had praise dancers. The music on their cd wasn’t loud enough. The person who worked the audio booth had went home. I had to go upstairs and helped find the volume button for the cd player on the audio board and run back down to usher – since at that time I was the only one ushering.
When church was over I did not go downstairs for cake. I went downstairs to get my praise dance clothes from that morning and go home. What winded up happening was, Charlotte, a nurse who could not make it back downstairs in her heels, asked me to retrieve her coat.
Again, I was determined to prove my mother had trained me in the ways a child should go.
I retrieved it for her. And then I was on my way to the car where I would have to convince my mom to edge out of her tight space in the parking lot – which we never park – so that I could make it to Bedside Baptist.
I wrote this to share my crazy Sunday with you; not to complain or ridicule anyone. It is an honor to serve in any way that I can in the body of Christ and I am glad that I could be counted on to do it. I only hope my pastor and his wife to be enjoyed the services and that my God is proud of me.
Knowing Nothing at 24 