The Road to Montgomery!

Recently Michael and I experienced a series of events that were painful and disappointing. But, as a couple, we knew that it would be a journey that we would have to navigate as we move through our trajectory of pain and purpose.

 At some point, I realized that my journey would take a different path than his journey. The way for me became one of maintaining my authentic voice and standing for a principle of what it means to be valued and respected. I did not feel that any of these were occurring in this situation.

 I was angry, hurt, and ultimately disappointed. The church girl in me reached out to those who I felt had offended me ( generally, I choose not to be offended), and to no avail, my wound was getting deeper. I realized even more that people couldn't give you what they don't possess. So I pressed on having conversations with my therapist and my village of support.

 I practiced one of my spiritual disciplines, sat in silence, and waited to hear from God. You may be surprised, but God does speak to me. God tended to my soul at that moment.  God said, "it is okay for you to be present with yourself first and that your voice, your presence, is of value in so many other spaces, and you can walk away."

 I sat with this answer for several days and then conversed with my "village of support," who listened, asked questions, and challenged me on the disruption this could cause. Then each one in different situations said, "I hear you, I see you, continue to pray, and it is okay." By checking with my community of support, I knew that I had heard from God, and I knew that these women "were strong enough to support my truth."

 So what did this mean for me? It meant that my spouse was supportive of my decision, but we had to walk different paths for our healing. We would laugh when he told me that he was at the recovery bridge, but he had not stepped onto the bridge. I told him that it was terrific that he was at the recovery bridge, but I was on the Edmund Pettus Bridge walking to Montgomery. My decision now was about principle. My decision to enter this journey was to say that Black women in ministry matter, clergy spouses matter, and God does not require me to be in spaces that do not value or respect me.

 When I decided to move forward,  I felt my mother Essie B Pearson’s presence. My mother spoke up in a service where I was not allowed to preach from the pulpit. I felt the presence of my First Lady, Ann Martin, who let me walk alongside her going to training and conferences. I felt her presence more so remembering that when she died at 90+, only women spoke at her service, and a woman gave her eulogy.

 I am my mother’s daughter. I am Allyson Felecia and Allan Rudolph’s mother and Michael's wife of 46 years. But I am also a black woman in ministry who took a bold step one day and said to my first lady’s husband, Rev. Martin,  I have a call to the ministry. He told me, "Jesus did not have any women disciples." Not having much understanding of scripture at that time, I said," he did not have any black men either."

 The first African American woman to graduate from the Candler School of Theology, Emory University, is almost in Montgomery. My daughter told me when I get to Montgomery, there is a little restaurant where the people sit on top of each other, but the food is delicious. But, unfortunately, it is a pandemic; I might have to order take-out!