Count It All Joy by Ashea S. Goldson Page B

urine out of the body. It was amazing to me that one body part out of order could cause so much trouble. It was just like Taylor always said, “You gotta start taking better care of yourself.”
    I remembered Mama and how cancer ate up her body. She used to call out for Taylor and me all the time during her last days. All she wanted before she died was to know that Taylor would soon give her life to the Lord and get back in church. That was all she ever asked about and all Taylor did was say, “Yes, Mama.” Then she’d slip away to go to some party or to hang out with some loser while our mother’s life ebbed away. I wanted to strangle her back then. I wanted to hurt her for her selfishness until one day while I was sitting by Mama’s bedside, Mama helped me to realize that Taylor was hurting just as much as I was.
    Mama, in all her fifty-five years of wisdom, told me that since Taylor wouldn’t trust God, her wild behavior was just her way of dealing with the situation. She clubbed until she couldn’t club anymore, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop her. Not until, of course, God intervened, and her life of partying became her prison. I swallowed hard as the pain from the memory faded.
    The doctor talked about the radiation oncologist and the results of his treatments so far.
    It was a very technical discussion, and I must admit that I tuned out most of it. About two minutes later, Mother Benning started in on us.
    â€œJoshua, I hope you’ve reconsidered your position, especially since we almost lost your father today.” Mother Benning looked directly at Joshua.
    â€œI’m sorry, Mother, but I haven’t,” Joshua said. “I can’t.”
    Mother Benning stood directly in front of my husband. “Can’t? Are you telling me that even seeing your father here in the hospital, you’re still not willing to help out?”
    â€œI told you that I’d help out in any way I can, any way other than pastoring KingdomHouse of Prayer Church. I will be too busy pastoring my own church.”
    â€œOh, please.” Mother Benning waved him away with her hand. “You’re barely out of seminary school.”
    â€œMother, that was just a formality anyway,” Joshua said. “The school didn’t call me. Jesus did.”
    â€œYou were always so stubborn—just like your father.”
    Bishop Benning tried to sit up in bed. “Get off the boy, Mirriam. Let him be.”
    â€œAre you all right, dear?” Mother Benning ran over to his side.
    â€œI will be when you stop badgering our son.” Bishop Benning, obviously in a lot of discomfort, strained to get out his words.
    Mother Benning stroked her husband’s hair and didn’t say a word. She continued to watch Joshua from the corner of her eye.
    I sat and watched my husband look helpless. Not at all the strong-minded man of God I’d married. He looked like a little boy, Mirriam’s boy. And I didn’t like it not one bit. I liked to think of myself as a strong woman, and I needed my man to be strong, especially against the wiles of the devil. Not that his mother was the devil, but sometimes I thought she let the devil use her more often than any of us wanted to admit.
    I mean, none of us had perfect relationships with our parents, and I certainly had my own ups and downs with mine, but I believed in a mother letting her child grow up and live life without constant interference. And that’s what Mirriam Benning was—constant interference.
    I sighed because fate had me in an uproar again. By the time Joshua and I stepped out of the room into the private waiting area, Mother Benning came charging in behind us. I could see her twisted eyebrows a mile away. Was this the first lady whose job was to co-watch over people’s souls? I winced at the irony.
    Mother Benning bent her lips into an awkward smile and spoke slowly. “I have a proposition for