Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

God Says, "It's Okay"
God Says, "It's Okay"
God Says, "It's Okay"
Ebook144 pages2 hours

God Says, "It's Okay"

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Ever since she was a child, there was something special about her. Something she just could not put her finger on. Having lived in the city of brotherly love Philadelphia, and then having to move to a small, rural town wasnt what MISS E was looking forward to. From having to deal with being the oldest child to being a single-parent wasnt what MISS E expected her life to be. Being led by the Holy Spirit is something many of us are afraid of or dont know how to do or just dont want to do. Journeying with MISS E is an interesting yet fruitful and prosperous adventure. Even though she has faced many trials, MISS E has learned to lean and depend totally on Jesus. Join her and see why God Says, Its Okay.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateJan 24, 2006
ISBN9781425900137
God Says, "It's Okay"
Author

Miss E

Miss E is the oldest of James and Ethel Williams’ daughters. She is the oldest of five sisters. She is the mother of Stephen André and Mia Helishia, and a child of God. She is a graduate of South Carolina State University, and is pursuing her Master’s of Elementary Education from Cambridge College in Cambridge, Massachusetts. She attempted her hand at writing and speaking in the 8th grade at the Latimer school under the direction of Mrs. Tillman. Miss E loves reading, writing, and conversating with all children. Miss E is a member of the Swamp Fox Writing Institute affiliated with the Francis Marion University. This is Miss E’s first piece of published work.

Related to God Says, "It's Okay"

Related ebooks

Biography & Memoir For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for God Says, "It's Okay"

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    God Says, "It's Okay" - Miss E

    God Says, It’s Okay

    Miss E

    missing image file

    This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

    © 2006 Miss E. All Rights Reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    First published by AuthorHouse 01/23/06

    ISBN: 1-4259-0013-5 (ebk)

    ISBN: 1-4259-0012-7(sc)

    Printed in the United States of America

    Bloomington, Indiana

    Dedications

    To My Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ;

    His Glorious Father, God;

    To My Mama, Ethel;

    My Sweetie, My Daddy, James;

    My Children’s Father, Art;

    One-Fourth of My Heart, My Right Hand, My Son, Stephen;

    One-Fourth of My Heart, My Sweetie, My Friend, My Daughter, Madam Mia;

    Two-Fourths of My Heart, My Twins, Alpha & Omega;

    My Second Mother, Hazel;

    My Sisters: Cynthia, Arleen, Valerie, Zenobia, and La’Nell;

    My Nieces: Brandi, Destiny, & Kentrice;

    My Nephew, Eric;

    My Listener, My Debater, My Brother, Nate (Bob);

    My Brothers-in-Law, Chris & Tim.

    Spiritual Guidance

    Minister Brenda McGirt-Farley

    Minister Joanne Johnson-Braddy

    Rev. Hazel Roberts-Moultrie

    Financial Guidance

    James Sellers

    To all women, men, and children who go through tough times, trials, wounds, misery, and pain, wait for

    God to Say It’s Okay!

    Moving to a small town was the very last thing that I had on my mind. We lived in Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love, and there was no way in the world I wanted to move to South Carolina. South Carolina was bad enough, but to a town where there are only two red lights, please! We moved there only because my granddaddy was sickly, and my daddy was the oldest child. When I came to this place, I was in the eighth grade. I had a sister in the sixth grade, one in the fourth grade, and a sister in the first grade, all girls—no boys and little sisters at that!!

    Just knowing that we were going to South Carolina was one thing, but when we moved there, it was culture shock. I remember when my mama registered us for school, and looking at the building, I thought what a tiny place, a dump! Culture shock had set in. I was used to attending a school, junior high that is, where the least amount of students for Thomas Fitz Simons Junior High School was 800 to 1000. This place had about 800 students for the entire school, (K-12). Good Lord, help me! If that wasn’t bad enough, I can remember going inside the town drugstore and hopping up on the stool. This was before we moved down there permanently. During the summer, we would come and stay with our Aunt Mary Elizabeth. I went to the drugstore with her; I always followed her. Because I was from the north, and a child, I naturally assumed that I could sit on the stool. As soon as I sat on the stool, the lady behind the counter told me, You can’t sit there, little girl. She really hurt my feelings. I just looked at my Aunt Mary Elizabeth, and she told me to hop down. I couldn’t believe this, and it didn’t help me like South Carolina any better.

    It was time for school to start, and I hated this place. My friends weren’t here, and I was miserable. My sisters didn’t seem to be bothered by the change, but then again, who knows what they were thinking. They played with each other and were ready for school. My first day at the Latimer School was interesting. The only people I really knew were my family members. Having two aunts and a grandfather who taught school didn’t make things any easier. My grandfather retired the year before I entered Latimer, thank God! The war stories that I heard about being in his classroom were something else, everything from the strap that would roll up to his sarcastic comments and remarks in the morning.

    Fate has a way of entering our lives, and Mr. McClendon Moody was mine. Of all the people to have for a homeroom teacher, I wound up with somebody who knew both of my parents, especially my father. Mr. Moody went to school with my daddy, and now he was my teacher. Great, just great!! When he called the roll and got to my name, he said, I know your parents; they’re from Philadelphia. That did it! I knew that I was doomed.

    The year I entered high school was interesting. I enjoyed my high school years and being a girl. I didn’t have many female friends, just males. That could be one big reason why I didn’t have many female confidantes. People as a whole don’t understand that men and women or boys and girls can be friends without there being a love connection.

    During the school year of ‘72 to ‘73, there was a little turmoil at the high school which I attended. The president of the student body and I were very good friends. Our friendship was put to the test his senior year along with another good friend of mine. I was fifteen years old and my world was wonderful according to me. This friend of mine was the president of the student body, and another guy was the president of the senior class. We were getting ready for homecoming. During football season, there were nine senior football players, one of whom was black. I was to be the sponsor of the one senior black football player. Everything was going along fine until we practiced for the Friday night half-time activities. For some reason, my friend who was black and who was the president of the student body was told to escort me and sit down. Why should he just escort me and sit down when there were nine sponsors altogether? The senior class president was white and was told to escort the other eight girls. To me and my other two friends, prejudice was being shown, or as J. Anthony Brown says, hidden racism was definitely there. Because the faculty refused to change the procedure that night, my parents and I discussed what we thought was going on at the school. We talked with my friends and their parents and came up with a plan, something which we thought was right and fair. That night, we all went to the game, but I did not go on the field. My mama had me dressed really nice, but when they called my name, I just stood up in the bleachers with my friends. There were some comments, but no one said anything to me, my friends, or our parents. We won our homecoming game, but there was a calm among the students like never before, especially when we got ready to leave the stadium.

    The weekend passed, and it was Monday, time to go to school. This Monday was different because none of us went to class! When I say none of us, I mean all of the black students. If any of us went to class, no one outside in the parking lot knew. My friends and I rallied together and asked our fellow classmates not to attend class that morning. When the morning bell rang, the teachers found that there were no black students in class. Even the bus drivers came to the parking lot after parking their buses. I guess my two associates and I were known to be rebel-risers, or as the older people would say, troublemakers. Somehow, the news media was contacted. Our superintendent and all of the district office personnel came outside. Our principal and assistant principal were in the parking lot, too. What a commotion we were causing. It wasn’t meant to cause trouble, but to make a statement. A statement it definitely made! Sometime that morning, the high school was burned down. And who do you think they blamed? Naturally, they blamed me and my two buddies. The chief of police came to my house. In those days, when the police came to your house, it meant big trouble. I was only fifteen, and my dad wanted to know what was going on. My parents were told that they needed to bring me in for questioning. I wasn’t the only one; my two friends went also along with their parents. What a way to spend the day, at the police station. We knew that we hadn’t done anything wrong, and we were law-abiding citizens. All of our friends wanted to know what was going on! If that wasn’t bad enough, it happened again! Another school burned down a few months later. This time, we weren’t just taken to the police station. My friends and I were taken to Columbia for a lie-detector test. By this time, we were considered big-time criminals, arsonists so to speak. We got one good thing out of this, a good lunch from Shoney’s.

    At that time, I didn’t truly know what was going on in my life. I felt that someone was playing a dirty trick on me and my friends. It was only God preparing me for the life I was to lead. Being young and not thinking ahead, I thought, Okay, this will be over with and I can go on with things.

    I did go on with things, never knowing what God had in store for me next. Living in the town of Latta was one thing, but my family moved to the country, out there where my grandfather lived; I thought I would die!

    Getting my driver’s license at fifteen was great. Parents always have something to say; you don’t want to hear it, so as a child, you learn to tune them out. All of my friends were going to a party, but my parents said no, especially when I wanted to drive their car. I wanted to go with my friends, hang out, and do some fun teenage things. Daddy decided to let me drive his car, but only to go to my friend’s house and to the store. I parked my dad’s car at the store on the dark side and locked the doors. We went riding, stopped by the store to get something to eat, and had a ball. Being a teenager can be fun, but we tend to do some very stupid things. My friends brought me back to the store to get my daddy’s car. There was only one problem. The car was gone! Dear Lord, was I in big trouble! First of all, my parents didn’t want me to go out with my friends, and now my father’s car was stolen. Jesus, please help me! My friends took me home. My dad didn’t say a word, and my mother was in the kitchen. All I kept thinking was, How in the world was I going to tell my daddy that somebody stole his car?

    Daddy was just as calm as ever. He asked how Diane (the friend who I was going to see) was. Did we get what we wanted from the store? Then he made the statement, something about the car door not sounding like his car door. I didn’t say a thing. If there was a hole anywhere around, I would have crawled into it. The next thing Daddy asked me was how I got home. Before I could even answer, he said, Make sure you tell the truth. I started crying and apologizing and telling my daddy that someone stole his car. All Daddy did was look at me and said, My car is parked in the back; nobody stole it.

    Little did I know that there was more than one set of keys. For some reason, I thought that I could out-smart my parents. Parents have a way of already knowing. Very often, we hear people say been there, done that, and believe me, my parents had been there and done that!

    We attended church out in the country, the Skillet area to be exact. This tiny little church was where my family attended and had been attending for years. My aunt would always tell us, When you get of age and go to the revival, you need to go to the moaners’ bench. I used to wonder what a moaners’ bench was. I actually thought that it was a bench where people sat on it and moaned. Boy, was I wrong! My mama always told me that we had to ask the Lord to save our souls when we went to the moaners’ bench. This particular Thursday night, we went to revival like we usually did, and our reason for attending was different from the adults. My cousin Dean and I and some other girls went to talk, watch the boys, and laugh at the older people. But for some reason, this night was different for me. When they asked for all sinners to come to the front, my cousin and I went down front to sit on the moaners’ bench. I was scared like never before, but it was a good scare. We got on our knees and began to pray. Lord, have mercy! I can remember the older saints standing over me singing and praying. Usually, my friends and I would be peeking around to see what was going on, but this particular night, I didn’t. God was working on me. All I remember is shouting and my aunts screaming, Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus! I had accepted Jesus as my personal Savior that Thursday night, but still did not know what He had in store for me.

    One of the children in our neighborhood had died that summer, and our parents had a hard time explaining

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1