Lying and excellence

I grew up a magnificent liar.  Lies were so common that the truth was barely seen.  When I began to be delivered from lying, I found that people liked me better as a liar.  My first encounter with lying was not at home per se, but in church.  I have been a member of at least fourteen different congregations since birth.  I remember them with poignant clarity.  Some were huge cathedrals and some were store fronts.  It was in the combination of these experiences that I learned about lying.  Some of the churches that I attended were nothing more than rooms with a floor.  The seats were damaged and a few had no working toilets.  Some of the kitchens they tried to feed me out of, had visible bugs and was beyond repair.  Service times varied like river water and you were never sure when you would get out.  It seemed like church leaders were indifferent to the people as long as they paid the tithe.  About the age of ten, I was baptized at East Mt. Zion church in Cleveland.  That is when I noticed a difference.  Services were timely and the messages were relevant, but what I enjoyed was the beauty of the sanctuary.  It was one of the prettiest churches that I had seen in my whole life to that point.  From that point on, I refused to say something was excellent when it was not.  I will concede that it is the best you can do, but I will not call it excellent.  I finally gave my life to God at the age of twelve.  The church I attended then was one of the prettiest in town.  The carpet was red and the pews were cushioned.  The windows were stained green and cream and over the pulpit was a hand painted picture of Christ that my pastor painted herself.  She had a modern kitchen but she did not allow selling in the church.  Whatever we served was free.  She was timely and had well prepared lessons.  Every Saturday, was church cleaning day so that Sunday, the basement smelled like Pine Sol.  I will never forget Pastor Mary Lou Parker and her family.  She had a spirit of excellence where nothing less would be applauded.  I can remember Missionary Robbie Cobbs who was elegant in every way.  Whatever she put her hand to do was done well and was excellent.  I won't forget her either.  Now, when I go to churches where excellence is a work in progress, I don't offend.  I bow out politely and get in my car.  I go to a nice restaurant and I sit to eat in excellence.  I will no longer tolerate lying to spare your feelings.  If I can't say anything, I won't say anything.  It keeps your feelings from being hurt and it keeps me from lying.