House of Prayer

Isaiah 56:7

There is not much that I remember about August 1, 1964. That was the day my Papa (paternal grandfather) was carried to a cemetery on the outskirts of Orangeburg, South Carolina. The funeral service was too brief, and the burial too short. There is nothing following the burial that I recall, but from the moment I walked up the stairs of Trinity Methodist Church, 191 Boulevard, NE, Orangeburg, South Carolina for the funeral service my mind was focused on no one else except my human lost.

I had my own private ceremony that day. I do recall tuning in to hear "Will The Circle Be Unbroken" - Papa's favorite song. No one else mattered that day, not even my father and his crying sisters or my somber Granny Rouse. I am told that Rev. Matthew D. McCollom, Papa's friend and neighbor, preached. I was nine years old, and my best friend had died. I was determined not to cry on that day, because I promised Papa I would not cry. You see, on the day Papa died, God told me through the Spirit that Papa was okay, and I would be okay. When we left that House of Prayer, I got in the undertaker's car with whom ever, looked out of the window and just sung to myself, Papa's favorite song.

Papa was remembered by someone as "The Reverend Hiram Bishop Rouse, son of the late Hiram and Sarah Scipio Rouse ... born in Darlington, South Carolina. At an early age Reverend Rouse was converted and joined the Siloh Methodist Church. In 1939, he was admitted into the South Carolina Conference and pastored the following charges: Bethel-Ebenezer, Springville, St. John-Cades, Pageland, Ruffin, Camden Circuit, Macedonia, Hardeeville and Appleton. Reverend Rouse was known for his spiritual and fervent messages and his generosity. Before joining the South Carolina Conference he organized, built and placed into the membership of the North Carolina Conference a congregation ("in Lumberton, NC").

Rev. Rouse is survived by Mrs. Geneva B. Rouse, his devoted wife; three daughters, mesdames Rosa R. LeSane ("since deceased") and Addie R. Inman ("since deceased") of Brooklyn, N. Y., and Miss Ghussan Rouse of Orangeburg; three sons, Hiram Rouse ("missing since the late 40s") of Florida, Reverend B. C. Rouse (died on 2/19/2003), pastor of Wesley Methodist Church, Columbia, S.C., and Jesse Rouse ("since deceased") of Orangeburg; one sister, Mrs. Sallie R. Jenkins ("since deceased") of Effingham, S.C.; two brothers Reverend B. J. Rouse ("since deceased") of Lumber Bridge, N.C., and Reverend J.B. Rouse ("since deceased"), pastor of the Tatum charge of the Florence District. Also one daughter-in-law, Mrs. Lula W. Rouse ("died on April 15, 2002") of Columbia and a son-in-law, Ambross Inman ("since deceased") of Brooklyn, N.Y, a host of other relatives and friends."

That was it. That was all written, of couse, I have added notes of deaths that followed in years. What was wrong with them? Did they not know that I was his best friend? His "Boy"? I mean, come on, get with it, give me the props for being the favorite grandchild of one of my grandparents, since the others favored everyone. Just kidding!

Our parents and grandparents were good about loving us all, and making sure we were all favored. I was lost in the reality of the day. Papa was gone. His remains laid to rest in grave far away from where life would take me, yet forever close to wherever I would go. I sit here tonight during what some may call an early morn in Harlem, New York and that day, his grave, and all my memories of him before that day are with me in this House of Prayer - Metropolitan Community United Methodist Church. Why am I thinking of him? Could it be that this is the month that he died? Could it be because his wife, yet alive has a birthday on 26July, the week of his death? Could be that the last time I saw him alive was on July ..., when he lifted from his bed and cried out: "Boy, what are you doing here, Boy!"? Those would be his last words he ever spoke on earth, I learned in 1983 while pastor in Dillon, SC. The male nursing assistant who was there to witness the special privilege granted to me as a 9 year old grandson, lived two blocks from the parsonage of St. Stephens UMC during my tenue as pastor. He recalled observing the event and how they were amazed that my grand father spoke. Cancer had Papa in a coma, but he awaken just a moment for me, but never again.

I do not know the answer to my question of why I am still here. However, I can tell you this: I am glad I stayed in the House of Prayer tonight. Since it is now 1:20 AM into 16July, which has another story for another time, and my cell phone is alarming, I am going home.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy and hear us in the House of Prayer. Amen.