side effects like migraines, weight gain, excessive bleeding, and allergic reactions; future health concerns; or being controlled by a calendar, which wasn’t always convenient and tended to conflict with our schedules while alienating spontaneity.
“Xavier, you’re already overworking yourself,” was Avis’s response to me asking her to stop working and letting me take on all the bills.
“It’s all good now. My practice is growing well. In fact, I’m planning to put in my two-week’s notice down at the plant,” I said.
And I fully intended to quit that job in two weeks, except it occurred to me that I was one year away from being vested with their pension plan. And besides, it made sense to work until the new baby came. That would just be more money for the household.
With three young children, Avis did decide to leave her company and stay home. I quit my job at the plant four months after our little girl, Jasmine Monet, was born. It looked like I was slowing down, but I soon discovered I didn’t know how to have that much downtime. So when I found myself with all this “free” time, I revved up my efforts to acquire more clients. When some of my colleagues wanted someone to cover for them while they were out of town or vacationing, I was the go-to guy. Then Dr. Preston had a stroke, and I was asked to maintain his client base until he recovered and returned. He never recovered, and I ended up inheriting ninety percent of his lucrative clientele.
“Xavier, when are you going to slow down and spend time with us?” Avis asked again three years ago, right after our fourth child, Brandon Skylar, made his entrance into the world. “We don’t go on vacation. You’re hardly ever home. When you do make it home, it’s close to most of the children’s bedtime. You fell asleep while eating supper the other day. For goodness sake, you fell asleep while you were putting Brandon to sleep.”
“It’s not going to be like this always, Avis. I do this for us. You know this. We have this huge home with luxury vehicles parked in all four of our garages because of my hard work. Our children don’t want for anything. Everybody has the latest gizmo—”
“But we don’t have you,” Avis said. “You and I don’t even go out anymore.”
“That’s not true.”
She looked at me like I had grown another head. “When was the last time you took me out?”
I thought for a few minutes. She gave me time.
“Okay,” she said. “If you don’t remember when, where did we go? And church doesn’t count.”
I admit she had me with that one, too. It had been so long, I couldn’t recall the last place she and I had gone anywhere together other than church. Not even on one of our past anniversaries, although I did give her beautiful diamonds each year and a car for one.
“I promise, Avis. I’m going to cut back. You can’t just do something like that all at once.”
“That’s what you keep saying, but you never do it. What’s the point of having a family if you’re not ever around to enjoy us?”
“I’m just trying to ensure our security, Avis. I want you and the children to have the best. I know it may be out-of-date thinking, but I’m supposed to provide for you.”
She walked up to me and grabbed my hand. “Money-wise, you provide plenty, Dr. Holden. Where we seem to be deficient is me having a husband around, and the children are desperately in need of a father. I don’t know, Xavier. There’s always a trade-off in whatever decisions we make. I just pray you don’t find yourself losing your family while in the pursuit of the almighty dollar that no one is forcing you to chase except you.”
When I came home yesterday from the office, my family was gone. There was a note from Avis.
Xavier,
When you decide you really want to be part of a family, let me know.
I love you,
Avis
I called Avis on her cell phone and promised her I would cut back starting first thing next week. She wasn’t hearing it anymore. If I was serious, I would have to prove it.
So today I went to church, albeit alone, seeking God’s guidance. And as Pastor Landris was preaching, he pointed out, once again, that strongholds aren’t always the obvious things we think of as strongholds.
“Strongholds aren’t always sins. Some people are people-pleasers,” Pastor Landris said. “That’s not a sin, but it can be a stronghold. Food. Various drugs. Some people might be habitual liars. It’s not one of the Ten Commandments, though it is addressed in the Bible. It’s a major character flaw, and can be a stronghold. Believe it or not, even things we think of as being good things can be strongholds. How many of you work so much you neglect to spend time with your family? As great and noble a virtue as honest, hard work is, if you’re not careful, work can be a stronghold. Being married to a person who beats on you—abusing you physically and mentally—and staying in that marriage because you vowed ‘until death do us part,’ which may very well happen sooner than you think, can be a stronghold. Anything with a hold on you, anything that controls you instead of you controlling it, is a stronghold.”
So today, I’ve made the decision I will take back my life. Satan has deceived me in the most clever of ways for long enough. I’m a workaholic. Today, I’m breaking my stronghold. I’m going into the enemy’s camp, and I’m getting my family back!
Arletha
This was my first visit to this church, Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center. When I saw that preacher stand up with that long hair, I started to get up right then and there and walk out. There are just certain things I believe and don’t believe in, seeing as I was practically raised in the church. If anybody should know…I should. One thing I know: women ain’t supposed to be wearing pants in church. I don’t care what folks say. And for sure, men ain’t got no business with hair that’s longer than mine, looking like some woman.
I’ve been running for Jesus a long time, and all these newfangled philosophies people are trying to introduce into the Lord’s house just ain’t gonna fly with me. I don’t believe you can be saved just by confessing your sins and believing on Jesus. Now don’t go get all confused about what I just said. I do believe on Jesus, Lord knows I believe in Jesus. But the notion that all you have to do to get into heaven is to just confess you’re a sinner, then accept Jesus as your savior and that’s it—you’re now guaranteed a place in heaven without proving you’re worthy—is a bunch of hogwash! Excuse my French. But frankly, I’m tired of people telling and buying into that lie.
The Bible clearly tells us we must work while it’s day because when night comes, no man can work. I joined the church sixty years ago, after I’d just turned six. It didn’t take me long to make the decision, like it seemed to have taken many of the others. I knew back then that God had a call on my life, and I’ve been working in His vineyard ever since. Why do I work, you ask? ’Cause I want to get into heaven. I only pray I will have done enough to make it in. I want to hear my Lord say to me on that great day, “Well done, thy good and faithful servant. Come on up a little higher.” For sure I don’t want to hear, “Depart from me; I know you not.”
That’s why I’m in church every time the door opens. Trying to be good enough to make it into heaven. Trying to ensure the Lord remembers me. I believe He’s keeping a record of our attendance, and everything we do and don’t do.
I
