Raven signed on to the ministry’s YouTube channel, preparing to watch yesterday’s service from her home office. This, of course, was something she did every single Monday anyway, so she could critique her sermons, but today, she was more interested in hearing Porsha’s little message. Actually, Raven had planned on viewing the recording last night. But by the time she and Kane had finished making love and watching a couple of movies, she’d been too exhausted. He also hadn’t left until sometime after eleven, and as soon as he had, she’d gone straight to bed.
Raven pressed Play on the video and then clicked it to full-screen on her twenty-seven-inch computer monitor. She relaxed in her chair, the one situated behind her shiny wooden desk, and watched the opening of praise and worship—but it wasn’t long before she pursed her lips in disgust. For the most part, she loved her praise and worship leaders, all of whom she’d personally selected through individual auditioning, but she didn’t like some of their song selections. Although, it wasn’t so much their choice of songs as it was the fact that they sometimes sang the same ones two Sundays in a row. The congregation didn’t seem to mind, likely because it didn’t happen regularly, but Raven preferred variety. She wanted to keep things interesting and different, and they knew that. So it was obviously time to have another meeting with them.
Raven fast-forwarded to Porsha’s segment, but when she realized she’d advanced the video too far, she rewound it. Now she saw Porsha walking into the pulpit and taking her place behind the glass podium.
“Good morning,” Porsha said, smiling.
“Good morning,” the congregation responded.
“Today, I would like to offer you a few words of encouragement, and I’d like to begin by quoting one of my favorite scriptures. First John four and seven, which says, ‘Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.’”
Many of the parishioners said, “Amen.”
“For some reason I have always loved that scripture. Maybe because when my parents were alive, they showered me with the best kind of love any child could hope for, and I miss that so very much. And please don’t get me wrong. I am truly grateful for the wonderful love I receive from all of you here at New Vision and from other friends. But ever since my parents died, things haven’t been quite the same for me. There’s a certain void I feel. And while I know what I’m getting ready to say is likely going to be one of the most transparent moments I’ve ever shared publicly, I just need to be honest. I want to tell you my greatest desire…which is to meet the right man, fall in love with him, and get married. More than anything, I want a man who loves me as much as I love him. Someone who loves and cherishes me as his wife. There was a time when I used to be ashamed to admit that truth, even to my closest friends, but now I know that sharing my struggles, wants, desires, and even my pain can really help someone. And in this case, I know that there are likely many single women here today who feel the same as I do.”
The video camera was zoomed directly in on Porsha, so Raven couldn’t see the congregation. But she still heard Amens and people talking among themselves. She could tell that they earnestly felt for Porsha, and that many of them could relate to her. They loved what she was saying.
And Raven didn’t like this at all.
“But I’m here to tell you that I’m not giving up, and neither should any of you,” Porsha said, smiling again. “God can do all things and He will…if we just believe in Him. If we just depend on Him. If we can simply trust Him with every…fiber…of…our…being. And we have to do it without wavering. We have to have faith minus all the doubt that the enemy tries to confuse us with. We have to see the enemy for who he is—an evil force who cares nothing about us. Then we have to stand on God’s eternal Word.”
There were more Amens all around, and Raven squinted her eyes at her computer monitor. This mini message of Porsha’s was sounding more like a mini sermon, and it was obvious that she was trying to outdo Raven. She was baring her soul to the congregation, hoping to gain sympathy. Worse, she was trying to ease her way further up the ministry ladder, just as Raven had thought, and Raven wasn’t having it. New Vision Christian Center, New Vision Ministries, Inc., and more important, New Vision’s members belonged to Raven. They’d all joined because of Raven. They’d told others to visit the church because of Raven, and she wouldn’t let Porsha or anyone else steal them away from her. She simply wouldn’t and couldn’t allow that to happen.
Raven watched the remainder of the video, which lasted another couple of minutes, and then replayed it. She was becoming angrier by the second, so she quickly clicked out of YouTube, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. In about a half hour, it would be time for her to speak to her online followers via Facebook Live, so she needed to calm her nerves. She needed to settle her thinking and forget about Porsha for the time being.
So she took more deep breaths and finally opened her eyes. She felt better, and as she clicked on a folder containing some of her personal financial documents, her spirits lifted even further.
She scanned a few of them and felt a strong sense of accomplishment. Things were certainly going well, and who would’ve guessed that she would ever have this kind of cash? It was one thing to be able to save for a rainy day, but having a money market balance of just over a hundred thousand and then right at eighty thousand in one of her checking accounts, Raven couldn’t complain. It still wasn’t nearly the kind of money that would categorize her as wealthy, but she was clearly on her way. Especially since she’d saved this $180,000 all in the last twelve months. There was so much potential for the ministry—so many possibilities for her as a pastor—and she was thrilled about the awesome way her local members and worldwide followers were contributing. They were being so generous that it wouldn’t be long before she finally hired a financial planner to begin investing in a diversified portfolio. As a matter of fact, the only reason she hadn’t done so already was because she hadn’t wanted the stock market to trigger her gambling addiction. She hadn’t attended any local Gamblers Anonymous meetings, but while in prison, she’d read as much literature on the subject as she could. She’d also worked through all twelve steps of the program on her own, and she lived by the GA philosophy.
Not everyone saw the stock market as a form of gambling, though, and for normal people it wasn’t. But for recovering addicts like her who’d once believed that taking a risk on any amount of money and trying to make much more of it, well, it could become a problem. So, because of that, she’d shied away from stockbrokers and the like. But now she wanted to begin investing and planning for her retirement years.
Raven closed the folder and then scanned some of the church’s financial statements. Their local giving was increasing every week, as was their membership, so eventually they would need to find or build a larger church. But for now, Raven thought it was best to focus on growing her online ministry and to begin strategizing another way to reach people on a national level. Doing online broadcasts and live-streaming their Sunday-morning services was working great, but in the future Raven wanted to host her own syndicated TV talk show. She wanted to have a weekly or even daily hour-long segment that aired nationwide. This was something she’d been dreaming about doing for a while, and although she’d not shared that dream with another living soul, she couldn’t wait to become a household name. The kind of celebrity she deserved to be.
Raven left her office and went into her bedroom. She strolled past her king-size sleigh bed, which was covered with four plush, deep tan pillow shams, five throw pillows, and a matching silk comforter. Frances, her housekeeper, came every morning at seven a.m. sharp, except on Sundays, to clean. She washed any dishes that Raven left in the sink the evening before, which was rare, and she made up her bed and dusted every room in the house. She also washed Raven’s sheets and towels twice a week, on Mondays and Fridays. Frances was usually finished and out the door by eleven, though, and Raven loved how meticulous and fast she was.
Raven went over to her boudoir area, sat in front of the table, and gazed into the lighted mirror—the same kind that top celebrities housed in their own dressing rooms. Brooke, her makeup artist, had done a perfect job already, so all Raven had to do was powder her nose a bit. When she finished, she did another once-over for each aspect of her makeup and turned her head to the side to check her chignon. She was good to go and ready to deliver her online message.
In just a few minutes she would access Facebook Live, so she went back into her office and sat in front of her computer again. She scrolled onto her public-figure page and saw the last three status updates that Michelle had posted. They were reminders about today’s noon broadcast. Raven loved that she was able to speak to everyone live, but she also loved that broadcasts could be replayed later for those living in other time zones, both in the US and worldwide.
She read a few other Facebook posts that Michelle had posted for her and some that she’d posted herself over the last few days, but when she saw that it was only two minutes to show time, she set her smartphone into its cradle. Then she opened the video feature for Facebook Live on her app and immediately saw viewers joining the session. One after another, she saw more and more names pop up, and she was grateful to have this real-time platform. Earlier this morning, she’d thought about a number of topics to speak on, but then it had dawned on her. She needed to tell her story—the one about her pitiful childhood and dreadful marriage. She’d done this very thing at church yesterday, but it had been at least four weeks since she’d shared it on Facebook. And since new people tuned in regularly, she wanted to make sure they all knew about her journey; both the truthful parts of it as well as those various details she sometimes fabricated. She wanted them to remember everything she said today and feel sorrier for her than anyone had in the past, even if she had to embellish things a bit…or a lot. But more important, she wouldn’t let Porsha outdo her with that little transparency stunt she’d pulled yesterday. In a few moments, Raven would prove to be more transparent than she or Porsha had ever been.
Raven now looked straight at her phone camera, first smiling and then not. “Good afternoon, everyone, and thank you so much for joining me. I really appreciate it, and it is my prayer that you walk away from this message feeling inspired and filled with much hope. It is my greater prayer that none of you will ever have to live the kind of awful childhood I lived or marry the kind of man I loved and believed in. I’ve shared these two stories many times before, but the reason I do is so I can remind everyone that any obstacle can be overcome. Which is why this afternoon, I’m going to share with you something I’ve not shared with anyone before. And that is…before I went to prison, I was raped by a very prominent pastor. Someone who just about everyone knows. He raped me, got away with it, and continued on with his life, business as usual. He went on to become one of the most successful pastors today, but as you can see…I’m…still…standing, too. God brought me through every bit of the pain and humiliation I endured, and now I have a testimony.”
Raven paused for full effect with tears streaming down both sides of her face. She would certainly never go as far as saying Reverend Curtis Black’s name, but with her having worked for him in the past, she knew many people would decide on their own that it was him she was talking about. Of course, Pastor Black hadn’t done a thing to her—except send her to prison—but this kind of rumor would get folks talking the way she needed them to. Especially since many people already knew that she’d been raped as a child and felt sorry for her. This new tragedy would elevate the circulation of her name and position, and before long, more and more members would join locally. She would also secure more social media followers and rise just a little closer to the top.
She did what she had to do to get ahead. She did what powerful men had been doing for centuries.
She did what was required, and she wasn’t ashamed of it.