Free No Sin in Paradise by Dijorn Moss Page A

wife.”
    Pastor Bryant gives a head nod to my sarcasm. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a small tablet with a pen. I scribble a number on the paper and hand it to Pastor Bryant. “Half now, half when the job is complete.”
    â€œWhat do you need from me?” Bryant says.
    â€œI need a name with evidence and the photos.”
    Pastor Bryant purses his lips, but he then agrees. And just like that, I have become a millionaire.

Chapter Six
    The next morning I find myself in attendance at New Haven Community Church. Like practically everything on the island, the church is a stone’s throw away from the ocean. I kind of like having church close to the beach and being able to hear the sea while worshipping God.
    The church could hold maybe sixty people at most. Less than thirty are in attendance, but, boy, I can feel the presence of God in this place. Adele invited Victory and me to church, and we sat in the front row clapping and singing along with the two-member praise team while Sammy Moses accompanies the praise team on piano.
    â€œBless that wonderful name of Jesus! Bless that wonderful name of Jesus!” the praise team sings.
    I have to admit, Sammy is a pretty good piano player. He’s not a Beethoven or a Thelonious Monk or even a Little Richard, but he does play the piano with enthusiasm. I enjoy watching him stare down at the keys as he thrusts his fingers down on the keyboard. The song went on for much longer than need be, but it is nice to see a church that thrives on praise as opposed to being theatrical.
    â€œThis feels like home. Look at Sammy get down,” Victory says.
    â€œThat fool is going to mess around and hurt himself,” Adele replies.
    Sammy and Adele are both in their sixties, so I understand why Adele is concerned with Sammy’s health and safety. She may not share a romantic connection with Sammy, but they do share the journey of getting older.
    All of a sudden, Sammy stops playing and stands up. Now only the drums, tambourines, and hands clapping could be heard. Sammy walks up to the front of the stage and does a dance across it. Adele rolls her eyes at the sight of Sammy.
    â€œHe always got to show out.”
    Victory lets out a girlish laugh, and I smile. Even in the midst of Pastor Cole’s murder, the mood in the sanctuary is not lost. I get the sense that there is still hope, and there is more life to live.
    When the song concludes, Sammy walks off the stage and takes a seat next to Adele. He puts his arm around her, and she smoothly takes his arm off of her. Pastor Clayborn is a petite woman who is barely taller than the pulpit. She walks up with a Bible in her hands that is bigger than her.
    â€œThis has been a grievous week,” Pastor Clayborn says in her raspy voice. “I have never met Pastor Cole. Like some of you, I was only able to view him from the TV, which is not the best way to view a man.”
    I can tell that Clayborn is an educated woman who is only concerned with one thing, and that is the truth.
    â€œYou see, man looks at a man subjectively; God looks at a man objectively. If a man is a man of faith but struggles with alcohol, then man will demonize him and call him an alcoholic. God sees both the man with a drinking problem and the promise that is birthed within him. He doesn’t step away. No, he gets right into the thick of it and begins to reconcile and reshape and mold that man into his original purpose. Just like God is molding all of us to accomplish His will. Don’t get too caught up in yourself to see that you’re a part of something much greater in the body of Christ.”
    I know that I have struggled with drinking and smoking for a long time, to the point where I stop referring to myself as a man of God. I have troubles seeing a flawed man worthy of such a title. Pastor Clayborn reminds me of the power of God and His ability to transform lives. Maybe I am a man of God. A deeply flawed man of