Ordained

She wore the type of skirt that demanded attention. It was leather. Red. And probably made from the tanned hide of a small rodent or a cow too lazy to extend itself.

Her boots were the next item that caught the eye. They started at the bottom of her feet, crept past her ankles, shot up her calves, climbed over her knees, mounted her thighs and finally stopped just short of . . . ah . . . her skirt.

Her white silk blouse looked normal enough, except for the egg-shaped stain spotting the front an inch below the third button.

Maybe she hoped the leather vest would cover the stain. Or maybe, she was unaware of the mustard-yellow splotch altogether. Still, the vest absorbed more interest than the stain.

Even that is not an accurate statement. It was the fringe attached to the vest which engaged not only the eye but the ear as well. Small bells dangled from each slim strand and the many layers of fringe dangled well below the boot tops. The vest, a waggling cymbal of sound, jingled and jangled with every movement of this lady's spectacular body.

Her attire, an appetizer teasing the palatte with unusual visual delights would not have been replete without her spiked hair-do tinted in lovely shades of pink and lavender.

It's hard to believe I would have failed to notice her in any crowd, but she commanded my full attention now because she blocked the doorway.

Brass gongs striking brass casings echoed the hour of ten, announcing that service would start shortly. The open doors waited for me to enter. But try as I might, I couldn't get past this lady. When I strove to move around her, she stepped in front of me.

It's not quite Christian to shove someone, make them give way and allow you to pass. At least, not on a Sunday morning. On the steps of the neighborhood church.

It was then I noticed her outstretched hand which apparently expected mine to clasp it.

Were her eyes, perhaps, just a tad bit watchful above the smile pasted joyfully upon her lips?

Reluctantly, I extended my hand.

"Good Morning," she said. "Welcome to Orthodox Fellowship Church. I am your new pastor. Please take a seat. Today's service will start as soon as I finish welcoming the rest of the congregation."

As I passed inside, I couldn't help but think: New Pastor? No Way! And what will her sermon cover?

Then, quite spontaneously, my throat filled with laughter and my eyes sparkled with anticipation. If her sermon was a'tall like her outfit, we weren't gonna have to go to hell to hear the devil's red hot amens.
Ordained © 2006 Chaeli Lee Sullivan