Psalms 27:11-14 – Teach me thy way, O Lord, and lead me in a plain path, because of mine enemies. Deliver me not over unto the will of mine enemies: for false witnesses are risen up against me, and such as breathe out cruelty. I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart; wait I say, on the Lord.

A robed pastor stood at a podium in a pulpit high above the congregation in a large church, orating with his already booming voice emanating through a mounted microphone and routed through speakers that surrounded the hall. It was Sunday morning service, and the church was filled to capacity like always.

“…Just a little more, and then I’m finished. I say again to you, my brothers and sisters, wait on the Lord. It might seem sometimes as though He does not hear your prayers, but God knows your hearts, saints. Our Father knows your desires, your needs and your wants. Be of good courage, stay strong, fight the good fight and your faith will be rewarded. This I promise you, in the name of the Lord.”

In the front row, Royce sat in the center of a pew flanked by other members of the congregation he neither knew well nor ever exchanged words with. Like always, he sat and listened intently to the message, nodding appropriately when he heard something that resonated within him. He was a quiet man, distant, but pleasant when goaded into conversation. He was able to tune out all the cheering and praising going on around him and keep his mind and heart on the Word when it was being delivered. He was there to learn, not to perform or put on a spectacle, he always thought.

“Praise Jesus,” Royce muttered to himself as the pastor ended his sermon and changed his tone.

“Let us thank our Lord God for the mighty word we received today!” roared the pastor through the microphone, followed by deafening applause and cries of hallelujah in the air, louder than any sound that could come through the microphone and speakers. Royce actually quivered a bit at the thunderous praise, as he always did. A small price to pay, he thought.

“And now, before I take my seat, does anyone need prayer?” said the pastor. “Does anyone need healing hands placed upon them? Are there any infirm, any sick, anyone weak in body or mind that needs the touch of the Lord this day?”

By this time, the entire congregation was standing, many caught up in their own praise and worship. Royce merely looked around. The time he looked forward to most during church service had passed; now came the long, drawn out part he dreaded.

And it began—the same older women who usually went up front to be prayed for week after week, walked toward the front again, along with children ordered to do so by their parents and a new face or two. They would remain up there for what seemed like an eternity, asking the Lord to help them with this and with that.
Royce sighed. God helps those who help themselves, he thought as he always did. Then he froze, as he felt eyes upon him. Sure enough, the pastor stared upon Royce as if something were missing between them, an exchange unspoken in the midst of the prayer and the praising and the repeating of good phrases paying tribute to the Lord. Regardless, Royce held his position. The pastor gave him a disparaging look, and then turned his attention to one of the ladies standing before him with her arms raised and her eyes closed.

Soon the prayer line was over and the benediction was given. The once orderly environment gave way to a myriad of people hugging, shaking hands, embracing and otherwise giving their warm goodbyes to one another for the week. Royce pushed his way through the crowd, heading for the church doorway at the rear of the hall as if it were drawing him in like a fish on a line.

“Royce!” a shout pierced through the unintelligible mix of sounds from the crowd and bored into Royce’s ear like a drill. He knew it was coming. Turning around, Royce saw the pastor worming his way through the crowd of members and guests just as he had before, except the pastor seemed to stop every three seconds to shake hands or hug another person he passed. Finally, Royce and the pastor stood face-to-face in the doorway of the church.