My Father's Gift

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Authors: Mary M Hall-Rayford

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My Father’s Gift

 

 

by

 

Mary M. Hall-Rayford

 

 

 

Copyright © 2013 by Mary M. Hall-Rayford

 

 

Revised edition by author 4/20/13.

 

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

 

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

This book was produced as an eBook in the United States of America on Amazon.com.

 

 

 

Your Precious Gifts

Father,

In the name of Jesus, I thank you for all of your precious gifts—The gift of salvation, mercy, grace, love, faith, and obedience.

For Your Word says, “All good and perfect gifts come from above” and that You give good gifts to all Your children.

Salvation—for all who accept and believe Jesus crucified, died, and resurrected.

Mercy—Your ever-enduring compassion that never fails.

Grace—The unmerited favor that You bestow upon all

Love—for all who willingly receive from You.

Faith—a measure that grows by hearing The Word.

Obedience—in understanding and doing Your Word.

Help me Father, to lean not to my own understanding, but to trust in Your Word to me no matter what it looks like, no matter what others may say; to trust in the knowledge that no one else has heaven or hell for eternal rest, just You, and it is in You that I live and move and have my being.

I thank You for hearing and responding to this and all prayers earnestly communed to You by the righteous and sinners alike as they come into a right relationship with You, trusting, accepting, and ready to receive from you, the best You have to offer—gifts that multiply with continued faith in You.

In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.

 

 

 

This book is dedicated to all of the wonderful gifts that God has placed in my life.

Danielle  (daughter)

Delario (son)

Delario (grandson)

Domonique (granddaughter)

LeBron (grandson)

Tyrone (husband)

Charlene (friend)

Barbara (friend)

Joyce (friend)

Teresa

Karen

Darolyn

Carol

Dr. Jacqueline Tilles

Elder Theodore Franks (deceased friend)

 

And so many others—there is not room enough to name, but you know who you are!

 

 

 

 

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Epilogue

About The Author

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

“Hello.” Discerner answered the phone after the third ring, momentarily distracted by the tangled telephone cord.

“Sister Everett, please.”  

“This is she.”  Her brows furrowed trying to place the voice.

“Sister Everett, this is Calord Recinoire. I just finished reading your book,
What Do I Do Now?
  I just had to tell you how great it is.  This is exactly what our ministry teaches and it’s good to know that someone else believes in teaching people how to live for the Lord since so many are confused about what to do.  When Brother Jordan handed me this book, I sensed in my spirit that this sister has an intimate relationship with the Lord.” 

“Thank you,” D’Cerner laughed.  “I didn’t know Brother Jordan was my publicist.”

“Oh, I don’t think that was his intention, he just happened to have it with him.  We were in a meeting together and he showed it to me.”

“Well, at any rate, it’s nice to know that someone thinks the book is worthwhile.   And it’s good of you to take the time to call me.  I assume that Brother Jordan gave you the number?”

“Yes and I couldn’t wait to call you.  It’s not often I get a chance to speak with a sister in the Lord who knows what she’s talking about.  So many know how to talk a good talk, but very few know how to live it, let alone write about it.  Yes, this is great.  I can sense the anointing of God all over this book.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” D’Cerner hastily looked at her watch.  “I’d love to continue this discussion with you, but I have to get ready for a speaking engagement and I’m running a bit late.  Would it be possible for me to get your number and call you another time?”

“Sure.”  He gave her his telephone number.  “You may call me at any time.”

“Thanks again for your call.  I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

While talking, D’Cerner was walking through the house, from her bedroom to the bathroom, preparing to get ready.  As she hung up, she couldn’t help wondering about the phone call.  She thought to herself, “it’s not everyday someone calls to tell you how much they enjoy your book.  What an interesting man!”   

“Chantelle,” she said to her daughter who had just walked into her bedroom.  “Brandon has apparently decided to become my publicist.  That was a phone call from someone he had shown my book.  He sounds like a nice man.”

“You know Brandon, Mom,” her daughter laughed.  “He’s always trying to get on your good side.”

“Well, baby,” D’Cerner, hugged her daughter, “it’s not my good side he needs to worry about. He needs to get on your good side.”

“He’ll figure it out sooner or later.  I tried to explain to him that I’m just not interested in marriage right now.”  Chantelle sprawled across her mother’s bed, looking at the ceiling.  “You need any help?” She covered her mouth to stifle a yawn.

“Well, if I did, I don’t know how you could do anything from that position,” D’Cerner laughed.  “I don’t need anything right now, other than to get in the shower and get dressed.  Do you and Carlos have plans for tonight?”

            “I’m going out with some of my friends, but I think Carlos will be here.  He probably has homework to do anyway.  That is, if he can stay off the phone long enough.  Mom, you really need to remind him that other people may want to use the phone some time.”  Chantelle sat up pretending to pout.

            “You and your brother will just have to work out the phone system between the two of you.  I’m not having a third phone line installed. Two is enough. Now get out of here or I’m going to be late.” D’Cerner swatted at her daughter as she passed her.

Chantelle skipped out of her reach, blew her a kiss and left the room to go talk to her brother about the telephone. 

While D’Cerner was in the shower, she smiled to herself as she thought about her two adorable children.  Chantelle and Carlos were constant reminders of the love she had shared with their father, Garrett.  She often thought about him when the two of them would get into arguments about one thing or another.  Sometimes she thought she over- compensated with them after their father died—loving them, holding them close, instead of being a stricter disciplinarian.  She knew they missed their father, especially Chantelle.  Carlos had only been three when the accident occurred fourteen years ago.  He really didn’t remember him even though D’Cerner would regularly pull out family albums or play home videos of them, so Carlos could have some memory of him.  But it really didn’t seem to matter.  Carlos was spoiled, but not really a problem. At least he wasn’t a problem with other people; just his sister.  Their relationship was truly the epitome of sibling rivalry.  She believed the real problem was Carlos’ resentment over being the youngest and not having the privileges Chantelle had.  Maybe if Garrett had lived, he could have given Carlos a better sense of himself and encouraged him to accept who he was.  If Garrett had lived.

Garrett Everett was a once-in-a-lifetime love.   She loved every inch of his six foot seven-inch frame, his boyish little grin, his beautiful big soft brown eyes, his teasing ways and more importantly, his love for the Lord. It was his love for the Lord that made him a great husband and father. Garrett wanted above all things to please God in everything he did, and she believed he had died believing he had.  Garrett, a professor of religious studies and the assistant pastor at the church where they had first met won her heart. She had gone to the church as an invited guest of a friend. From the very beginning, the friendship that mushroomed into love was divinely blueprinted.  Eventually they were married.  The memories crowded the present and transported her into the past, twenty-two years ago.  She relived the wedding, their honeymoon, their disagreements, their passions and the day she received the phone call that forever sealed shut this chapter of her life.  No revisions were possible.  Tears clouded her vision as she slipped into a yesteryear reverie of lost hope. 

 

The day was illuminated by glorious sunshine as Garrett left to meet with a couple about an upcoming charity event.  An hour later, she received a phone call from the couple asking whether or not Garrett had left for their appointment.  She assured them he had left on time and then became alarmed.  It wasn’t like him to be late and not telephone someone. Ten minutes after she hung up the telephone, she received a phone call from a police officer informing her of a car accident in which Garrett was hurt.  She called her sister to pick up Carlos from daycare and Chantelle from school and hurried to the hospital. She arrived too late.  Garrett was gone. The happiness that she had known was eclipsed by the blackness that shrouded her heart.  Knowing she could never again look into his soft brown eyes or see his teasing smile, she was grateful for the gift of her children.

Chantelle was a lithesome five-foot ten young woman.  She had her mother’s looks and coloring, but her father’s charisma.  Carlos was a mirrored reflection of his father. He had his height, features, and even the stubbornness that tended to display itself on occasion.  As long as she could look at her children, she would always have Garrett.

 

Shaking herself out of her reverie, she realized she had been in the shower much too long and really had to hurry.  She dashed into her bedroom to dress; pinned up her hair and put on her makeup.  She had laid out a navy suit with matching shoes and put them on quickly.  Giving herself a backward glance in the mirror, she rushed out of her room to get her coat and briefcase. They were near the door, where she had placed them earlier. 

“Oh no,” she cried as she opened the door.

 

 

 

Chapter Two

Not having listened to any news all day, she wasn’t aware of the snow forecast and there before her lay at least three inches and it was falling heavily.  She grabbed her boots and a bag to throw her shoes in, shouted at Carlos to lock the door behind her, and jumped into her car.

“Okay,” she said aloud to herself, “I’m going to get there on time and in one piece.  No devil in hell has any authority over the roads, my car or the message the Lord has prepared for me to give.”

D’Cerner popped a Kirk Franklin and the Family tape into the CD player turned the key in the ignition and backed out of her driveway.  While she drove, she prayed.  “Daddy, I thank you for being in the ignition, the brakes and the steering wheel and making clear my pathway as I seek to do your will.  There is none like you.  I thank you for loving me enough to keep my angels alert and on guard every step of the way so that you get all the glory and honor due you for this night and always.”

D’Cerner ice-skated to her destination, playing dodge’em all the way.  Finally, she arrived, one massive jangled nerve, turned into the nearly empty parking lot, and wondered where everyone else was.  Angela was supposed to meet her in time for prayer before the service so she decided to wait in the car until Angela arrived.  While she waited, she mentally reviewed specific points of her message, revising some thoughts as needed, until she saw Angela pull into the parking lot along with Tyra, a soloist, and some of the others from her church.

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