My Pastor and My Husband's Mistress

By Brenda Tildon

My Pastor and My Husband's Mistress by Brenda Tildon

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781682133118

Book preview

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Copyright © 2015 Brenda Tildon

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2015

ISBN 978-1-68213-310-1 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-68213-311-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Dedication

Foreword

Introduction

Chapter 1

South Carolina

Chapter 2

My Husband

Chapter 3

My Pastor

Chapter 4

My Fiancee

Chapter 5

My Daughter

Chapter 6

My Love Life

Chapter 7

My Childhood

Chapter 8

The Preacher

Chapter 9

Father’s Day

Chapter 10

Deceitful Women

About the Author

Dedication

To the churches all over the world, because I love the people of God very much, and I feel like you should know what really is going on in the church world today and to share my experience with the people of God, even the ones is starting their ministry. That we need to focus on being what the Almighty God is requiring of us to be the instrument of a spiritual soldier to be able to spot the devil no matter what or which way the devil come from—the east, north, west, south.

You need to be sober and pray about what you see and hear, and don’t be afraid of what you see or hear. Let nothing shake your faith in the Almighty God, continue to stand on his powerful spirit, and be unmovable, steadfast in the Word of the Lord and Savior. You can survive because I did. It wasn’t no soft darts. The devil was shooting at me. They were like a brick, so be encouraged in Jesus’s name and stand on God’s Word. People of God do. Like Mr. President Obama said, Yes we can.

Foreword

To my kind, thoughtful, and generous Aunt Brenda, you have always been willing to lend yourself to others regardless of what the cause. I remember when I was young, you were my inspiration. You inspired me to be willing and to take on challenges. When I speak to someone, you always told me to always look them in their eyes and to never take my eyes off my enemies. I want to thank you for all those Sundays you had us in church, praising God and making sure we all became saved and accepted Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior. Most importantly, for always being there when life pains had hit me hard. Your loyalty and support, I will forever appreciate and cherish. With love, your niece Bequine Renee Clark.

Introduction

My past hurt was very bad, but I’m going to stay very strong and hard also, but God brought me through it all. It wasn’t easy, especially when there was no one to help you, and no one there to lead you to the Lord. All you had to depend on was that still voice of God, saying, You can make it, come on. Just follow me. Keep on looking up. I got your hand. I’m here. Don’t you feel me? Do you feel the little peace in your mind? That’s me. I have more, but you have to trust me. Come on. You can make it, so I began to trust him a little more, but God was there all the time. I just didn’t know it.

This is from my childhood, and up till now, I have just began to really put my trust in him. I don’t fold up anymore the Holy Spirit take me back when God told me to remember the still, little voice, It is me. You can do it, so I’m telling you, yes, you can do it to God don’t have no respect of person. Remember, by my past hurt the time I had to learn to stand alone and still standing alone, which is a good thing ’cause you can’t do nothing but lean on Jesus Christ.

Christian friends, remember the seven who’s—who you stand for, who you represent, who you choose to be like, who is God, who save you, who died for you, who gave up his Heavenly Throne just for us and who redeem us back to our respect in Christ Jesus that we may have the right to tree of life.

Chapter 1

South Carolina

Iwas born in little town called Manning, South Carolina. My parents had nine siblings—even girls and two boys. We were a very poor family. In the back of our house, there was a place behind the woods, all the trash pile, where the rich and white empty their trash. We waited for the trash truck to come, and we broke the handle of an old broom. We used it to dig into the trash, and we would find good food, clothing, pots. Whatever that was good, we take it home. I remember my grandma. She had a basket on top of her head, walking back home with a broom handle stick with her white apron and a rag tied on her head. The trash truck came in the morning, and in the evening, we never went hungry.

My dad built us a house with three rooms: living room where mom dad slept, the big room where the girls slept with two full side bed, some at the foot of the bed to make sure everyone had somewhere to sleep, and a cart for the boys. We walked to school. It wasn’t far from the house. It was called Abbeville Branch Street School, and the high school WHW right high school. Our parents made sure that we went to church every Sunday. The pastor’s name was Reverend Hightower. I still remember the song he always sings when the gates swing open, allowing me in. All the older kids are in their teens now. Some finished school; some didn’t. They got married, and some went up north, and my oldest brother went into the army.

Fred Williams Jr, my baby brother, stayed home. He didn’t want to go into the army. In January 31, 1973, five of us gave our hearts to the Lord—Mom, Dianna, Dorothy, my beautiful daughter Sophia Warfield, and myself. The Lord took our mom while she was right. God poked me and said that he was going to take her. He wanted to take the same ear, but I prayed and asked God if he can take her in 1977 instead of 1976 because 77 is God, perfect number. I questioned God why my mom. I was so angry. In the later years, I found out it was for her good and not for me.

Our parents always made sure that we all went to church on Sunday, and we stayed there until the service was over, but our parents came to the eleven-o’clock service. I remember my mom was sitting on the fourth row in the little white wooden church that the family attended. She had this big brimmed hat on. I can see it just as plain as it was yesterday. It was a cream color hat with a ribbon tied around it, and it was a brown ribbon. My mom was standing up, praising the Lord and crying. I was seven or eight at that time. It hurt me so bad to see my mom cry. I said, God, why is my mom crying? I have seen my mom cry so much I didn’t understand at that time why she was crying and praising God, but I know now she need God to do something for her.

I remember the beautiful flowers my mom had around the little white house. She had flowers everywhere, and we had to water them when the sun went down and early in the morning before the sun rises. To get dessert, we had to in the woods and pick blackberry. She made a blackberry pie for Sunday. Our dad had five gardens, so we got our veggies from there and our meat from hog, rabbit, squirrel, and chicken. We even had peanuts in the garden. You name it, our parents had it. We had good parents. They taught us how to survive and how to take care of our children. The most important thing that they taught was about Jesus Christ and to love everybody no matter what color they are ’cause there’s no color in Jesus Christ, and they also taught us to respect ourselves and others that it will pay off in a long while.

Oh yes, we had fish too. That’s why I love to go fishing today, but I don’t fish with worms. I’m afraid of them. I just fish with chicken liver and crickets.

In 1976, I left the little town Abbeville, South Carolina, and came back to New York with my sister Betty Ann. I love that little town. It’s a very quiet country. The people there were nice. They will speak to you whether they know you or not. They can be sitting under the tree when you pass by them, waving up their hand.

I remember my dad in the backyard making a rabbit box, and I was out there with him. It was so neat. I was about seven or eight years old at the time, and we went out into the field with some cabbage leaves for the rabbit. He put the cabbage way back of the rabbit box and pulled the trap up the little stick in the center of the box. When the rabbit hit the stick, the trapdoor would come down, and we will have dinner. We have about three or four boxes in different places. We had five gardens, big one too. We need it. My dad didn’t let me work in the garden too much because I was afraid of worms and still is.

I’m not afraid of everyone. Tell that little thing, and you scare. Yes, I am. They are so ugly. Why did God make those things?

With nine kids, our dad took good care of us. We had a good dad and mom. I miss my parents