Blessed Trinity. Vanessa Davis Griggs
I believe Pastor Landris is going to find the building’s location is not the best place to ask people to come. He’s not going to have that many people driving way out there to attend anybody’s church—including his,” Reverend Walker said. “More importantly, we’ll still own the building. If Pastor Landris takes Poppa Knight up on this offer, he’ll sink some big money into fixing it up, which will only increase the value of the building for later use. Better still, if we see things are getting too out of hand too soon, we can shut him down within three months. There’s nothing worse than having a large congregation with nowhere permanent to fellowship. That’ll scatter sheep pretty quickly.” He smiled.
“So all we have to do now is to wait and see what Pastor Landris decides?” Reverend Beam said, looking from one preacher to the other. “Then go from there.”
“I don’t think it’s going to take long, do you, Poppa Knight?” Reverend Walker looked at his friend. “And if you don’t hear from him soon, I’m sure you’ll follow up and impress upon him how this truly is a legitimate offer he’d be foolish to turn down.”
“I’ll do what I have to do,” Reverend Knight said. “I told him to pray about it—we’ll see which direction he takes.”
Reverend Walker clapped his hands again. “Wonderful! Well, gentlemen, shall we pray?”
Three of the five picked up a dried-out pastry and nodded before taking a bite. They bowed their heads, sitting in their respective places, as Reverend Walker led them in a long and fervent prayer.
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