By Gillaila Thomas
Baltimore Watchdog Staff Writer
Praise the Lord Saints and the ain’ts! I am here to discuss with you something that needs to be addressed that is coming from deep in my soul. It is something that I have noticed throughout my journey of being a preacher’s kid.
Ya hear me! Amen!
I am here to talk about the three levels of being a preacher’s kid because some of y’all is a little confused. There are people on that first pew that know they need to be the last pew of the church.
Now let’s get down to business. The first level of being a preacher’s kid are the kids that know their daddy or momma is a preacher, but they don’t know the church. Ain’t that a shame. They can’t even name a deacon or the mother of the church. Now that’s a shame.
How in the? Shut yo mouth! Do you claim you are a preacher’s kid but don’t know the church? Turn to your neighbor and say, “neighbor, ol’ neighbor, that child is lost, amen.”
The first-level preacher’s kids are the children that Mother Johnson ought to reach down and snatch them up by the ear to take them to church. The first-level preacher’s kids are the ones that you see on Sunday morning asking strangers if they know their daddy or momma church.
These children are missing out on the after-church food and Kool-Aid that Sister Williams had to prepare in that hot kitchen. Sometimes they momma or daddy would ask Sister Williams to make their child a plate but she would be confused on who their child is.
The second level of preacher’s kids are kids that know the church. They can name a deacon or the mother of the church, they can sing one or two hymns out of the hymnal, participate in a ministry and can name the books of the Bible.
The second-level preacher’s kids are the kids that the church ought to look at. Those are the children that haven’t decided if they are in the church or for the world. I bet those children have a sneaky link to attend after the first service.
Preach it!
The second-level preacher kid’s are the ones that need to be called down to the altar more than Ms. Jones. Those kids haven’t fully memorized the church program like they memorize Muni Long “hrs & hrs” lyrics or Gunna “Pushin P.”
I hope that “P” stands for pushin’ praise. Amen. This level of preacher’s kids needs a little more guidance before they daddy or momma allow them to take over.
Let me make this clear, saints, being a preacher’s kid is a job that we did not ask for. Our mother or father is the preacher, not us. So try Jesus, please do not try me.
Back to the service. Amen.
Hakuna Matata and e-g-e-l-l-o-c (that’s college spelled backwards) are not speaking in tongues. For some reason, second level preacher’s kids like to use those phrases in service but it’s just Lion King.
Last but not least, the third-level of preacher’s kid is where the child can sing the hymnal and know the page number, they know scriptures and Bible verses, they have the entire church service memorized and they know everybody in their church.
This is the level where the preacher’s kid has to attend every service and every meeting. I never understood why I had to attend the sunrise service when the sun didn’t even rise yet. It would be dark outside and I would wonder why a service is at five in the morning.
As a third-level preacher’s kid, they have to attend all of the meetings but would never know what’s going on. Why should I attend the deacon’s meeting? When my calling was just to be a member of the church? If I wanted to be something else in the church besides a member I could have asked myself.
Now let’s talk about these hymnals in church. Shall we?
I understand that these hymns brought us a mighty long way but do we have to sing the hymnal like we have a long way? I mean, why does “Amazing Grace” take so long to get to the third word of the first verse?
By the time I take a nap and wake back up I’m pretty sure that Deacon Charles will just be getting to the second verse. I don’t understand why a third-level preacher’s kid always has to start the selection—like I wasn’t there to create it. Why do I need to start it?
Again being a preacher’s kid is a job that they didn’t ask for.
Now I need to talk to those ushers standing on that door. If I am a third-level preacher’s kid, I don’t need you to remind me when I’m allowed to get up and walk during service. I know that I can’t walk around during the prayer and the scripture but offering? I am moving.
You need to tell the rules of the church to Mrs. Watkins kids because that one child she got to go to the bathroom more than Deaconess Miles change her slip. I understand the child has to pee but gosh, TLC didn’t really mean chase the waterfalls.
As I begin to close this service, let’s remember that preacher’s kids are not the preachers and that being a preacher’s kid is a job that they didn’t sign up for. If you want to discuss more, we can talk about it at the end of service on the last pew with the gossipping crew.
Amen, be blessed.