**This is Book One of the Fighting Temptation Series.**
Mr. Right...shouldn't it be Mr. Left? Since on your right hand is where the engagement ring goes, and the left ,the wedding ring. I don't just want to get engaged, I want to be married to my "p...
I pick up my keys from the rack and put them in the bag as well, before heading downstairs for Momma G's Sunday morning breakfast.
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"Blessed Morning Momma G!" I say taking a seat at our kitchen Island.
"A blessed mornin' indeed my prechous one. How di you sleep?"
I smile and think. "I slept great, thank you for those bamboo pillows."
She divides the food onto our plates. "See I tol' you those pillows were amayseen'."
I smile at her accent, all these years and she still has her Latin accent as if she just got here yesterday.
"Mmm...smells good."
She puts a hand on her hip as she hands me my plate, and takes a seat in front of hers.
"Tha's because it is. Come."
We hold hands and pray over our meal. "Heavenly Father, we humbly thank you for this blessing which we are about to receive for the health, nourishment, and enjoyment of our bodies. Jesus you are Master, Source and Savior and in your matchless name we pray. Amen."
I dig into my monfongo, eggs, sausage, yuca, and pickled red onions. "Momma G..." close my eyes savoring the flavors.
"Si, I know. Be careful no' to bi' the foot I put in there, okay?"
I look at her and chuckle. She winks at me and takes a bite of her meal, closing her eyes and moaning.
"Jur right, this is goo'."
I shake my head in amusement. She is something else. "I keep telling you that you should open a restaurant."
She nods. "I know, but then I hab to deal with annoyin' peopo and inspechons, and complayning. It will become somethin' I no longer enyoy doin'. I am happy with my even' plannin' beesness. I's usually whong on whong, or two on whong, I set ebrythin' up and then my asseestants maye sure tha' ebrythin' goes well, and I get to do whateber I wan'. Weeth a restauran, it wou' be a 7 days a week thin'. I lye my alone time." I nod understanding where she is coming from.
We finish eating and clean the kitchen, head to our rooms to finish getting ready, lock up and head to church.
When we arrive, I look around at everyone. Some people are dressed up, some people are in jeans and t-shirts and some people are in PJs. That's one thing I love about my church, you can come as you are, and no one will care. They'll greet you with a hug, a smile, and a warm welcome. It's the inside that matters here, not the outside.
I'm not saying that all churches are perfect, but the majority of us welcome all people, no matter what they look like, where they come from, or who they came with.
Plus, it's a shame when unsaved people go to churches to be accepted and get treated worse than the world treats them, just because they chose jeans over dresses, or sweats over a suit.
