The Veil by K. T. Richey

envelope from her mother and pulled out the money. She counted it. “Twenty dollars?” There in her hand was twenty dollars in one-dollar bills. “There should have been more. Did you see how many people were in there? There were more than twenty people who came to the front to give in the special offering for me. I expected a few hundred dollars.” She had anticipated at least $500. She needed the money to cover some of the items she charged on her credit card during her vacation.
    â€œWell you didn’t preach that good. That’s why they didn’t give you anything.” Her mother walked away and got into her car and drove off.
    Disappointed, Misha looked at her grandmother, who was waiting patiently at her car. She unlocked the door and helped her into the car. It was silent in the car as they drove down the busy highway home.
    â€œYou was out of order.”
    â€œGrandma, not you too,” Misha said as she continued to drive in the heavy Sunday afternoon traffic.
    â€œYou was out of order. Did God tell you to do that?”
    â€œDo what?” Misha tried to look at her grandmother while trying to keep an eye on the rapidly moving traffic.
    â€œPray for all dem people?”
    â€œGod told me to tell that girl ‘it’s not so.’ I heard Him so clear. I know it was God. I was right. She and the pastor told me she has stomach cancer. I didn’t know that when I put my hand on her stomach and prayed for her. I never met the girl before in my life.”
    â€œDid God tell you to do that?”
    Misha didn’t want to answer her grandmother. She knew God did not tell her to pray for the young lady. He only told her to say “it is not so.”
    â€œDid God tell you?” Her grandmother’s voice grew louder and stronger.
    â€œNo. I thought . . . well, I thought.”
    â€œOnly do what God tells you. It’s important that you do exactly what God tells you. Nothing more.”
    â€œBut, Grandma, I was right.”
    â€œWas you? What ’bout all those other peoples?” Misha couldn’t answer. “You shoulda asked the pastor before you prayed.”
    Misha looked over at her. A sinking feeling came into her body. It was the exact same thing she heard. Too embarrassed to admit it to her grandmother, she felt so guilty. She was out of order. She should have listened to the Spirit. Instead, she went for the theatrics in ministry, like she had seen so many other people do. Maybe that was what God was telling them to do, not her. For her, it was pure selfishness. She was learning to follow God’s direction to a tee. She prayed for God to forgive her for her disobedience.
    â€œAlways remember. Do only what God tells ya. You ain’t no Tay Patrick. You Misha Holloway and you have to do it the way God tells you not like anyone else. They have to do it the way God tells them.”
    As they continued their journey, Misha’s grandmother continued to minister to her about obedience to the voice of the Lord. Although Misha cried, her tears did not have an effect on her grandmother. She continued correcting and teaching her about the gift until they reached her home.
    Misha helped her grandmother into the house and watched as she walked to the refrigerator and pulled out the big pitcher of tea she always had and poured two glasses full for them.
    â€œGrandma, I studied and prayed all week for that sermon. Seems like they would’ve appreciated the sermon, even if I messed up at the end. I felt like a waitress who only received a penny tip after she went above and beyond the call of duty to serve.”
    â€œDon’t worry yourself about money. Bible say, ‘Bless the prophet, receive prophet reward.’ Dem siddity peoples should have blessed you anyhow. They’s pay, sholl will. They’s should have blessed the prophet.”
    â€œGrandma, I don’t wish bad on anybody.” Misha sipped her tea.
    â€œMe