Somewhat Saved

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Authors: Pat G'Orge-Walker

BOOK: Somewhat Saved
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Also by Pat G'Orge-Walker
 
 
Don't Blame the Devil
 
Somebody's Sinning in My Bed
 
Somewhat Saved
 
Cruisin'on Desperation
 
Mother Eternal Ann Everlastin's Dead
 
Sister Betty! God's Calling You, Again!
 
 
 
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Somewhat
Saved
 
 
Pat G'Orge-Walker
 
 
 
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Most of
Somewhat Saved
is dedicated to all those daughters who feel discarded and unloved. It is dedicated to those women who've felt uncovered with their souls unprotected and at the mercy of life. God is able and willing to keep you. We are His heiresses and adopted into His family.
And, to all those men, young and old, who are fathers . . . You are as necessary to these women as the air they breathe.... Now step up to the plate.
I share with my readers a portion of a letter. This is the unedited letter I had buried with my own father, for much of Zipporah's story is mine.
 
 
Dear Dad,
Over the years whenever the internal need for your paternal covers arose, there were none to cover me; no fitted sheet of fatherly love, no flat sheet of warmth, and no blanket of protection and respect.
I was left to lie naked on this worldly bed to instead be covered with a fitted sheet of secondhand love, often bought on sale, and overpriced. I needed it, so I paid.
I had to settle for the seldom honest flat sheets of warmth. It, too, often came with a price, far beyond my means. I struggled and mentally worked through the muck and mire of my everyday existence to pay for it. I fought with every fiber I had to keep it, though I knew its fabric consisted of never-meant-to-be-kept promises and erratic threads of moral heat.
Knowing I had no blanket of protection and respect of my own, when the harsh cold winters of truth came, I needed and accepted “as is,” discounted protection and respect. Its warranties often expired before the dawn came.
They tell me that around the same time I felt an urgency to find my only photo of you and me, eight hundred miles away, you suffered a massive heart attack and died. Were you thinking of me? Did you, somehow, suddenly realize how totally uncovered I was? Was there a reason you never held me, told me you loved me? Unfortunately, I cannot find the photo, so I may never know.
This Saturday, February 15th, just three days before my birthday, you will be buried. Along with the dirt used to cover you, will also be covered any chance we might have had to complete and connect the sides.
However, Father, I want you to know this: also buried with you so that you won't be cold during your sleep, will be my blanket of undying, unspoken love and respect. I can give that to you because I have managed to find and keep a real love, a love that is boundless and unconditional, Love that exceeds and encompasses any and every thing that a love should be. This was a love that helped me to raise three children and blessed me with grandchildren. Such a love helped me to go on and become a wife, an actress, singer, writer, author, and Christian comedian; you see, Dad, I can laugh. This beautiful love, it loved me enough to give me someone to love and to stand beside me, no matter what. That love is the love of God. “For He so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten son, so that whomsoever shall believe in Him, shall have eternal life.”
I am told that I look exactly like you and that you will never die until I do. I don't know how true that is, but one thing I do believe.... I believe one day, when I cross over to the other side, and you and I can meet again face to face, we will complete this triangle of love.
Acknowledgments
JEREMIAH 8:20–22
20. “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.”
21. “For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt; I am black; astonishment hath taken hold on me.”
22. “Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there? Why then has not the health of the daughter of my people been restored?”
I thank God, the beginning and the ending of everything in and around my life.
For their unwavering support, I thank my husband, Robert, my beautiful daughters, Gizel, Ingrid, and Marisa, along with their spouses and children. I also thank my aunts, uncle, siblings, and other family members. I thank my cousin, Delsia Afantchao, of Philadelphia, PA, in particular, who is more like a sister.
I thank Bishop John L. Smith and First Lady Laura L. Smith (St. Paul's Tabernacle City of Lights Ministry), and Reverend Stella Mercado and the Blanche Memorial Baptist Church family. And to Bishop T. D. Jakes and Bishop Noel Jones, two constant sources of inspiration, I thank you.
To all the churches, book clubs, media, libraries who not only embraced the Sister Betty Comedy ministry but assisted in propelling my books to award levels and entry onto the Essence Best Sellers List, I thank you.
I also thank my editor, Selena James, and all the Dafina family, and my attorneys, Christopher R. Whent and Christian Alfaya.
I must thank my prayer partners, author Jacquelin Thomas and Intercessory Prayer Warrior Kizzie Sanders of San Antonio, TX. Whew, if only folks knew! And my third-grade teacher, who inspired my writing journey, Mrs. Bobbie Madison-Mackey of Williamston, SC.
And to all the residents of Pelzer, Belton, Greenville, Anderson, and Piedmont, SC, I thank you for the memories and a lot of material.
Thank you, Brotha Smitty, a constant source of laughter. And my friends from coast to coast, I thank you.
I'd like to also thank Sister Marvella Brown and the Dale City Christian Church drama club, Dale City, VA, for their continuing support in adapting my stories into wonderful and hilarious events. To Sister Vivian Dixon; Mt. Pisgah AME Church, Columbia, MD; the Lofton family and So Bold Entertainment, Anderson, SC; Cheryl Questell and our Quest-Walk Production Company; the Richard De LaFont Agency. I offer a special thank you and abundant love to Pastor and Co-Pastor William and Shirley Mangum, Fort Pierce Christian Center of Port St. Lucie, FL. And to those whom I've omitted, please blame it on the head and not the heart.
To all the fathers who have daughters: Your daughters need blankets of love, security, wisdom, and your prayers; step up to the plate now, or you'll pay for it later—we all will.

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