Divine Intervention

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Authors: Lutishia Lovely

BOOK: Divine Intervention
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Also by Lutishia Lovely
Sex in the Sanctuary
Love Like Hallelujah
A Preacher’s Passion
Heaven Right Here
Reverend Feelgood
Heaven Forbid
All Up in My Business
Mind Your Own Business
Taking Care of Business
Divine Intervention
LUTISHIA LOVELY
Kensington Publishing Corp.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Also by Lutishia Lovely
Title Page
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
1
-
Here Comes the Bride
2
-
Mr. Wrong
3
-
Like a Good Neighbor . . .
4
-
Friends . . . How Many of Us Have Them?
5
-
It’s So Hard to Say Good-bye to Yesterday
6
-
Fathers Be Good to Your Daughters
7
-
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
8
-
Here Comes the Bride . . . Again
9
-
Ball Of Confusion
10
-
Pray
11
-
What’s Going On?
12
-
Power of Love
13
-
Working My Way Back to You
14
-
I Will Always Love You
15
-
It Ain’t Over Till It’s Over
16
-
Forget You
17
-
Time To Make A Change
18
-
You Dropped A Bomb On Me
19
-
Dilemma
20
-
The Power Of Love
21
-
Got Me Looking So Crazy Right Now
22
-
Meet Me at the Altar in Your White Dress
23
-
Standing in the Need of Prayer
24
-
Sex Ain’t Better Than Love
25
-
Family Affairs
26
-
Step By Step
27
-
A Woman’s Worth
28
-
Daydreaming
29
-
The Sideline Story
30
-
Lights, Camera, Attraction
31
-
Tomorrow
32
-
Yield Not To Temptation
33
-
Let’s Stay Together
34
-
Let It Be
35
-
Ring My Bell
36
-
They Say He’s Just a Friend
37
-
Losing My Religion
38
-
A Healer In The Sickroom
39
-
More Family Affairs
40
-
Like Father, Like Son
41
-
I’ll Make Love To You
42
-
Friends and Lovers
43
-
It’s A Small World
44
-
Hey Ya
45
-
From One Lover To Another
46
-
Home Is Where The Heart Is
47
-
Every Goodbye Ain’t Gone
48
-
Falling
49
-
This Is My Confession
50
-
Father and Son (The Remix)
51
-
Fistful of Tears
52
-
My Princess and Me
53
-
Fire and Desire
54
-
Oh My God
55
-
Back In Stride Again
56
-
Something Inside So Strong
57
-
All The King’s Horses
58
-
End Of The Road
59
-
Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow
60
-
Love Me Down
61
-
I’ll Always Love You
62
-
Love On Top
A READING GROUP GUIDE
-
DIVINE INTERVENTION
Teaser chapter
Copyright Page
For all of those who’ve experienced interventions . . .
of the divine kind.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Even though it was more than twenty years ago, I vividly remember my first conscious experience with divine intervention. It was also my first experience with an angel. Now, whether or not this angel was already human or became so on my behalf I’m not sure. But what I do know is that Kassoum Kamagate was an angel,
my
angel, in mideighties Paris, France. He was the instrument that Spirit used for an intervention of the divine kind.
I was traveling with an edutainment group, Up with People, and we were performing in Denmark. We had a rare few days off and I and a cast mate, Andre Pruitt, got the bright idea of traveling to Paris during this break. After all, France was only eight hours away by car. When would we ever be so close again? I spoke with my host family, whose friend was a truck driver. As it happened, he’d be traveling through France in a couple days. I could ride with him for free! After getting a release from my parents and making plans to meet Andre’s train in Paris, I climbed into the cab of a semi and headed south. (This journey, where the driver spoke no English and I spoke no Danish or German, is a whole other story, but I won’t digress.)
I arrived in Paris, armed with my luggage and the phone number of Andre’s friend who was studying abroad. Being dumped on the corner of a busy intersection in a foreign country was a bit daunting, but I swallowed my fear and headed to a pay phone to dial Andre’s friend. My first uh-oh. The number Andre had given me was a WRONG NUMBER!
Seriously?
“Don’t panic, Tish. You can do this.” Even though I had no francs, no friends, and now no idea what the heck I was doing in Paris, I kept up the pep talk. Especially when I saw a brother decked out in dashiki and knit cap, looking like he was from the South Side of Philly or downtown New Jersey.
Thank you, Jesus!!!
I walked over to him and asked for directions to the Gare du Nord train station. Uh-oh number two. Brothah man is not American, but African.
No parlez-vous Anglais!
Two hours later, I arrived at the train station. YAY! Less than two hours before 8 p.m., when Andre’s train was scheduled to arrive. I hunkered down on my suitcase and waited. Right on schedule, the trains pulled in and people piled out. Searching, searching, searching. No Andre. The trains depart. The people leave. No Andre. What do I do now?
Wait for him.
Yes, you read correctly. That was my bright idea at 9 p.m. at night in a strange train station in a foreign city where I knew no one. Hurry up and wait. But in my defense, options were limited. I’d arrived too late to have my Danish kroner changed into francs, which meant I had no money. No credit cards either, and by now, only an apple left of the nice little sack lunch my host family had lovingly provided. In other words, I was up you-know-what creek without a paddle! So yes, “just chillin’ ” sounded like a good idea at the time.
An hour later, the once bustling station was almost empty. That’s probably why I instantly noticed this young, black man walk by, looking at me intently while trying to act as though he wasn’t looking. When he walked by the second time, I looked him directly in the eye, as I’d been taught: on full alert, showing no fear.
Uh-huh. I see you.
By the third time he passed, I was in full self-protective bluff mode. Frown set. Eyes narrowed.
Nucka, what?
Finally, he walked over. The following conversation, abbreviated for the sake of this note, was conducted entirely with Kassoum speaking French and me speaking English. Yes, really.
 
Kassoum: Hi. Who are you waiting for?
Me: I’m waiting for my
ami
. (
friend
was one of five French words I knew.
Merci beaucoup, pomme frites,
and
qui
rounded out my stellar vocabulary).
Kassoum (with worried look): There are no more trains tonight.
Me (shrugging): Doesn’t matter.
Mon ami
is coming here, eight o’clock.
I emphasized
friend
and pointed to the eight on my watch, so he wouldn’t get it twisted. I had back-up coming and was sooo
not
the one!
 
We “conversed” for several minutes, during which time Kassoum showed me his ID and work permit (a mechanic) to convey that he was an honest man who meant me no harm. Then he pointed to a group of young tough-looking jokers at the end of the platform.
 
Kassoum: See those men down there? They hang around here to prey on people like you. This place will be closing soon. You’ve got to come with me!
Me: No. Effing. Way.
 
After all, the number I’d given both to the group and my parents was wrong. If anything happened, no one would ever find my body! More debating, more denying, and then I hear the voice of Spirit:
It’s okay. Go with him.
So I did.
The trepidation in my spirit and the lump of fear in my throat fled as soon as Kassoum opened his apartment door. It was clean and neat, with pictures of his family on the table and a beautiful one of his native West Africa on the wall. He brought out covers and a pillow for me to sleep on the couch. I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t close my eyes for a second!
When I woke up, it was six-thirty. Kassoum and I went back to the train station. Shortly after 8 a.m., the tall, lanky body of my friend Andre appeared among the crowd.
He’s here! Hallelujah!
I introduced the two men, informed Andre about the wrong number, and learned that he’d incorrectly read his ticket as p.m. instead of a.m.! We all hugged and then Andre and I left the station to embark on five fun-filled days in Paris. I felt like Josephine Baker.
Bonjour, Paris!
This was pre-Internet, so without a correct number, we never found Andre’s friend. Instead, we stayed in a hotel that Kassoum suggested, right across the street from the train station. We saw him often and would wave like old friends. I swore to myself that I’d learn a little conversational French and keep in touch. Sadly, I did neither. But with today’s technology, hope springs eternal that I’ll again run across this angel whom God used that night to keep me safe.
So now, more than twenty years later and wherever he is, I have just two words for Kassoum Kamagate: Thank. You.
To this day, divine intervention continues. From the bottom of my heart, I thank the angels who help my literary career soar, and whose love and support are why you’re now holding this book in your hands: my editor, Selena James; art director Kristine Mills-Noble (the cover is divine!); and all the rest of “Team Lutishia” at Kensington Publishing. You guys are amazing. Big hug! My agent, Natasha Kern; promotions guru Ella Curry; book clubs, book stores, and radio shows across the country; every avid reader who’s ever picked up a book in the Hallelujah Love Series or the Business Trilogy and, of course, my family. I love you all.
Merci beaucoup
!

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