(The following story is written in 1st person, but is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people or places are coincidental. I'm very glad my church is NOT like the one on my story. :) )
I saw my husband waiting in “our” pew – his balding head a little higher than most of the crowd.
When I spotted Aiesha half-way down the aisle, I squealed and grinned. We’d met at a Ladies Tea this past Tuesday, and she'd been on my heart all week.
Lots of people I invite say they’ll come to worship, but hardly any of them make good on their promise. But here was Aiesha, crossing the invisible barriers of race and status erected by man to step into the hope of God’s love.