Meet Vanessa Miller

Today we have Vanessa Miller with Yesterday's Promise, a wonderful, heartwarming Christian novel. I enjoyed this book, and I am definitely going to read it again. Now, without any more delaying, not that I would do that, here is Yesterday's Promise....enjoy it!


Vanessa Miller is a best-selling author, playwright, and motivational speaker. She started writing as a child, spending countless hours either reading or writing poetry, short stories, stage plays and novels. Vanessa’s creative endeavors took on new meaning in 1994 when she became a Christian. Since then, her writing has been centered on themes of redemption, often focusing on characters facing multi-dimensional struggles.

Vanessa’s novels have received rave reviews, with several appearing on Essence Magazine’s Bestseller’s List. Miller’s work has receiving numerous awards, including “Best Christian Fiction Mahogany Award” and the “Red Rose Award for Excellence in Christian Fiction.” Miller graduated from Capital University with a degree in Organizational Communication. She is an ordained “exhorter” in her church, explaining, “God has called me to exhort readers and to help them rediscover their place with the Lord.”

Here's the blurb for Yesterday's Promise...
Melinda Johnson has always felt called to ministry. So, when her father, Bishop Langston Johnson, decides to step down after thirty years of leadership at Omega Christian Center, it seems only natural for her to take his place. But Bishop Johnson feels led by a God who has other things in mind, and to succeed him, he appoints Steven Marks-a man who is opposed to female pastors, not to mention the fact that he is Melinda's ex-fiancé.

Feeling defeated, Melinda nevertheless maintains her position as the church's Missions and Community Outreach Director. Frequent interaction with the new bishop incites bitter sparring-and rekindles long-suppressed attraction, which grows only stronger when Melinda develops a relationship with Steven's precious daughter, Brianna, who's still struggling with the death of her mother.

Can Steven and Melinda set aside past pains, forgive each other, and learn to love again? Or will their opposing positions regarding women preachers keep them forever at odds?

Here are the first two chapters of Yesterday's Promise...

Yesterday’s Promise
One
Standing before the congregation of Omega Christian Church, Melinda Johnson preached a message on God’s precious gift of salvation. Her mission in life was to tell as many people as possible about a Man named Jesus. Preaching the gospel had become her greatest joy. “Don’t wait until it’s too late,” she told the congregation. “The Lord Jesus wants to fellowship with you right now. He loves you and desires only good things for you.”
Melinda continued in that vein until her voice cracked and tears ran down her cocoa-cream face. She never tired of talking about God’s ability to do the impossible, or how He could take nothing and make something miraculous out of it. She usually avoided making public displays of emotion, but this message was more important than her image. As the tears continued to fall, she gave an altar call and watched as dozens of men and women left their seats and rushed toward the front of the sanctuary. Repentant souls stood around the altar weeping as they raised their hands in surrender to God. Melinda prayed to God on behalf of each and every one of them.
After the service, Melinda stood by the sanctuary door and shook hands with most of the people as they left the church. This was something that her father, Bishop Langston Johnson, always did. Since he couldn’t be there today, Melinda wanted to make sure the job was still done.
“Thanks for your wonderful message, Sister Melinda,” Janet Hillman said on her way out. “My son was one of the people who came down to the altar today.”
For the past three years, Janet had spent her lunch hours in noonday prayer on behalf of her son. Having joined her on numerous occasions, Melinda was aware of the addictions and incarcerations that Janet’s son had been through. However, Janet had kept the faith—she’d kept believing that her son would one day serve the Lord.
Melinda beamed. “You prayed him through, Janet. I should give you my prayer list, because I know you’ll stay on the job until it’s done.”
When Janet walked away, Bob Helms, the head elder, came up to Melinda and said, “You brought down the house with that sermon.”
“Thank you, sir, but I can’t take credit. That message was God-given,” Melinda said. After a short pause, she asked, “Do you know why the elders weren’t at prayer this morning?” The church leaders met for prayer on the first Sunday of every month, but Melinda had noticed that none of the elders had been in attendance that morning.
“Your father had asked that all the elders meet with him this morning,” Elder Helms told her.
“Oh,” was all Melinda said. She had been with her father the night before, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting with the elders in the morning. The situation seemed odd to her because she had always been included in his meetings with the elders. Moreover, it was essentially understood by the entire church leadership that Melinda would assume her father’s position once he retired. Right now, her father was in the hospital, recuperating from what he’d thought had been a heart attack. Now that Melinda thought about it, he had been given strict instructions to rest, which probably explained why he hadn’t told her about the meeting. He knew that she wouldn’t want him worrying about church business right now.
Elder Helms interrupted her thoughts. “The Bishop did tell me to make sure that you left church right after preaching the message, Melinda. He wants to see you immediately.”
It seemed like Elder Helms knew something Melinda didn’t, and it scared her. “Did something happen to Dad this morning?”
Shaking his head, Elder Helms reassured her, “No, no. Nothing like that. The Bishop is doing fine. He just wants to see you.”
“Thanks for letting me know, Elder Helms,” she said. “I’ll head over there now.”
***
Anxious to see her father and make sure he was all right, Melinda rushed down the hospital corridor that led to his room. He had been admitted to the hospital three days prior, complaining of chest pains. After several tests, the doctor had confirmed that no sign of a heart attack had been detected. Melinda was thankful that her father was recuperating and doing well. She was also excited to tell him about some wonderful, unexpected news she had received that morning.
Her father’s eyes were closed when Melinda walked into his hospital room. As she approached his bed, she noticed for the first time that his hair was no longer salt-and-pepper but completely white. The wrinkles beneath his eyes, which had long made him look distinguished, were now more pronounced and distracting. When did all of this happen? Melinda wondered as she picked up her father’s frail hand and pressed it to her cheek.
Bishop Johnson’s eyes fluttered as he turned toward his daughter. “Hey, baby girl. When’d you get here?”
“Just a few minutes ago. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get here earlier.”
“You had to handle my responsibilities at the church. Don’t worry about it. I had plenty of visitors this morning.”
Melinda sat down in the chair next to her father’s bed and hung her purse on the arm of the chair. “I have some good news, Daddy. I’ve been asked to speak at the Women on the Move for God conference in August!”
“That’s great, baby girl! But I have even better news.”
Melinda raised her eyebrows. “What, the doctor gave you a clean bill of health and said that you’ll live to be a hundred?”
Bishop Johnson shook his head and then blurted out, “I found you a husband.”
“Excuse me?” Melinda said in as even a tone as she could manage. After all, she was a thirty-seven-year-old woman living in the twenty-first century. Fathers didn’t go out and find husbands for their daughters in this day and age. “Please tell me you’re joking, Daddy.”
“No joke to it,” Bishop Johnson said as he hoisted himself into an upright position. “I’m an old man, Melinda. I haven’t got many years left. I’d like to see at least one of my grandchildren before I die, you know?”
Melinda couldn’t deny that her father was showing signs of aging. But that didn’t mean death would sneak into his hospital room and suck out his last breath while she stood there and watched. “You talk as if you’ll die tomorrow.”
“I could. The next heart attack could be my last.”
Melinda rolled her eyes. “It was an anxiety attack, Daddy. Stop being such a baby. The doctor says you’re fine.”
Bishop Johnson shook a shaky finger at Melinda. “Now, you listen to me. I’m eighty-two years old. I know what’s best for you, and that’s why I called Steven Marks.”
Melinda bolted out of her chair and moved away from her father’s bed. She put a hand to her mouth and shut her eyes, trying to block out the same feeling of humiliation she’d experienced when Steven had dumped her ten years ago. This has to be some kind of horrible joke, Melinda thought. But her father was a serious man who rarely joked with anyone.
“Calm down. It’s not as bad as you think,” he said. “I didn’t come right out and tell Steven I wanted him to marry you. He’s a smart young man…he’ll come to that decision on his own.”
“Why are you even talking to me about Steven, Daddy? That man walked out on me and married someone else. Do you really think I’d want him back now, just because his wife is dead?”
“Pride goes before destruction, Melinda.”
She really hated it when her father tried to rein her in by quoting Scriptures. “What does being prideful have to do with not wanting to marry a man who rejected me?”
“I have more to tell you. Would you please sit back down?”
Melinda inched back to her seat and slowly settled into it. If this marrying Steven Marks thing was supposed to be a buffer for the rest of her father’s message, then she was truly petrified. She glanced at her father with a look of apprehension.
“This last hospital stay has convinced me that I need to retire.”
Melinda rolled her eyes. “I’ve been telling you for years now to retire. I can pastor Omega, and Pastor Lakes can take over as bishop.”
“Let me finish,” Bishop Johnson said, holding up a hand to silence Melinda. “I know the ministry goals that you have. I also believe that there is a way for you to do God’s will and also have a family. Plus, Steven’s church did not support him during his grieving process. They want him to leave, Melinda. So, after prayerful reflection, I’ve asked him to take over for me as bishop.”
Melinda must not have heard him right. He couldn’t have just said that Steven Marks—the man who’d called off their wedding because she’d refused to give up her dreams of preaching the gospel—was going to be the new bishop of Omega Christian Church. In Melinda’s mind, this could mean only one thing: her sin had finally caught up with her.



Two

Steven Marks was in his home office reading his daily devotional when the phone rang. The caller ID displayed the name Langston Johnson. He picked up the phone and said, “Hello, Bishop Johnson! How are you doing?”
“Just fine, my boy. I feel like I could run a marathon.”
Steven laughed. “Don’t go running off too soon, or you just might end up back in the hospital.”
“Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice this weekend,” Bishop Johnson said.
“It was no problem. My situation here had been getting crazy, so I was home visiting my parents when you called, which made it easy to get to Baltimore.”
Bishop Johnson cleared his throat, then said, “Well, I don’t like beating around the bush. Have you made up your mind?”
“Did you talk to Melinda?”
Bishop Johnson grunted. “I sure did. I informed her that you would be taking over as bishop of Omega, and she told me that she would sooner set all twelve churches on fire than give them to you.”
“She said that?”
“And much more. But don’t worry about Melinda. She’s headstrong, but she’s still a woman of God. She’ll come around.”
“Do you think I should wait a little while longer before coming down there? Maybe Melinda needs more time to get used to the idea.”
“I’m retiring at the end of the month. I need someone who is ready and willing to take my place now. So, are you going to be the new bishop, or do I need to call Pastor Lakes, as Melinda suggested?”
“I want the position, sir. I appreciate your confidence in me.”
“That’s good. I’ve already contacted the other pastors in the fellowship. I’d like you to come to town and meet with all of us next week,” Bishop Johnson said just before ending the conversation.
As Steven hung up the phone, he wanted to kick himself for not calling Melinda himself. He should have known this would be a problem for her. He had grown up with Melinda. Years before they had dated, gotten engaged, and then called everything off, they had been friends. So, he knew she was hurting. If it wasn’t for the fact that his daughter, Brianna, was also hurting, and that his church was throwing him out on his ear, anyway, he never would have agreed to take the position. But, more than that, Steven truly felt that God was moving him in this direction.
For the past ten years, Steven had lived in St. Louis, Missouri. Everything about the city reminded Steven and his daughter, Brianna, of his late wife, Sylvia. She’d decorated their house. She’d decorated his office and designed the pulpit area of the church. Even the local malls, grocery stores, and parks provided painful memories.
The car accident that had claimed Sylvia’s life had occurred just two streets away from the church Steven pastored. He had to drive down that street almost every day to get to his church office, and, as much as he’d tried to forget, he still remembered how his heart had ached as he’d driven to the site, gotten out of his truck, and run toward Sylvia’s car. A police officer had stopped him while several rescue workers had pulled Brianna out of the wreckage. The driver of the other car, they’d soon discovered, had been high on methamphetamine; he’d stepped out without so much as a scratch on him, and Steven had wanted to kill the man. To this day, he’d been ashamed to admit that neither his love for God nor the fact that he was a pastor had quieted his rage. Rather, it had been Brianna, who was five years old at the time of the accident. When the rescue workers had pulled her from the car and Steven had seen the bloody gash on her head, he’d forgotten all about his anger and started screaming her name: “Brianna! Brianna!”
At the sound of his voice, Brianna, squirming in the arms of a firefighter, had looked around until she’d found him. “Daddy!” she’d yelled back, lifting her arms to reach toward him.
The police officer had moved out of the way, and Steven had run to his little girl, taking her from the firefighter’s arms and holding her tightly. Then, two paramedics had walked Steven and Brianna over to an ambulance so that Brianna could be checked out while the firefighters continued trying to free Sylvia from the car.
The driver’s side been crushed like a soda can ready to be recycled, and, as soon as Steven had seen the crumpled car, he’d decided that he would never allow Sylvia to purchase another small car. Her Ford Escort had been no match for the solid frame of the Pontiac Bonneville that had slammed into it. But Steven wouldn’t have a chance to discuss car choices with Sylvia. He would never discuss anything else with his wife again. He had known this the moment his wife had been pulled from the wreckage and her mangled body had been laid on the stretcher. Even as he’d run toward her, he’d been able to see that she was gone.
Now, he was trying to make life work without the woman who had brought him so much joy. His little girl was still miserable. He’d prayed countless times that she would smile as she always had before her mother had died, but, in the two years since Sylvia’s death, Brianna had rarely smiled. Steven had taken her to meet with a Christian psychologist, but that hadn’t helped the situation. She still suffered panic attacks every time he left town for a speaking engagement, mission trip, or other ministry-related event, to the point that Steven had refused to travel. The deacon board at church had determined that the decision violated Steven’s pastoral duties, and he still didn’t understand that one—it wasn’t as if he had refused to preach at his own church.
However, the deacons hadn’t let up. They’d also criticized him for all the time he’d spent away from the church during the first year following Sylvia’s death. But Steven hadn’t had a choice. He was both father and mother to Brianna now, and she came first. So, when Bishop Langston Johnson had called him to discuss his becoming bishop of Omega Christian Church, Steven hadn’t been able to refuse. He recognized that some travel would be required of him, but he hoped that the change of scenery and the close proximity of his parents would help alleviate his daughter’s fears.
His musings were interrupted when his office door opened, and Brianna ran to him. “Whatcha doing, Daddy?
“I was just sitting here thinking.”
“Thinking ’bout what?” Brianna asked, climbing up on her father’s lap.
Steven hugged his daughter. “Oh, I was just thinking how much fun you’re going to have when we move closer to your cousins.”
“And don’t forget about Grandma Vicky and Grandpa Joe! I really liked spending the weekend with them. They bought me lots of presents.”
Steven laughed. “I figured you liked that part of the trip. But when we move to Baltimore, you won’t be getting presents every day. Grandma and Grandpa are retired, and they live on a fixed income, so I don’t want you asking them for things. Okay?”
Brianna rolled her eyes as if her dad just didn’t get it. “Daddy, I know not to beg. You taught me better than that. But, if they offer me some more stuff, I think it would be rude not to accept it.”
Steven laughed again. His daughter brought so much joy to his life, and he thanked God every day that she’d survived the car crash.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“I know we’re making this move so I won’t be sad anymore, but I don’t want you to be sad anymore, either. Okay?”
Steven thought he’d covered his sadness with laughter and smiles, but Brianna must have seen through his act. “All right, you’ve got a deal. Let’s pray that God helps us to move past the sadness we’ve been feeling.” They held hands and bowed their heads in prayer.
***
“Okay, now that you’re out of the hospital, I’d like to have a reasonable discussion with you,” Melinda said as she entered her father’s reading room and sat down next to him.
Bishop Johnson set the book he’d been reading on the table next to him and put his hand over his heart. “I don’t like the sound of this. Do I need to okay this conversation with my cardiologist?”
Melinda rolled her eyes. “Will you quit saying things like that? Your heart is fine. Everyone experiences anxiety, Dad.”
“Does it put them in the hospital?”
“I don’t know how many people go to the hospital because of anxiety,” Melinda answered honestly.
“Well, I don’t want to feel that type of pain again. That’s why I decided to take it easy—so I can live long enough to bounce my grandchildren on my knee.”
“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.” Melinda ran her hands through her shoulder-length, black hair. “Now, I can understand why you would want grandchildren, but what I can’t understand is why you would want to make me feel guilty. After all, if you and Mamma had had more children, then you probably would have had some grandchildren by now.”
The look of sadness that crossed her father’s face tore at Melinda’s heart, but she decided she couldn’t let it get to her. There was too much at stake. “I’m not the only reason you don’t have grandchildren,” she continued. “So, I think you should cut me some slack.”
Bishop Johnson looked at his daughter for several seconds before responding. “Your mother had a very rough pregnancy, Melinda. After you were born, her doctor cautioned her against having more children. Her body was just too fragile.”
Melinda lowered her head in shame for making her father relive the pain of her mother’s life and death. Margaret Johnson had been delicate for most of her life, and she’d had sickle-cell anemia, suffering her first sickle-cell crisis at the age of five.
During her pregnancy, she’d developed preeclampsia and almost died trying to carry Melinda to full term. Kidney failure had finally ended her life. Melinda knew one thing for sure: she didn’t want to bring children into this world if they would have to endure that painful disease. “What if I pass sickle-cell anemia on to my children? Have you thought about that?” she asked her father.
“You’ve been tested numerous times, Melinda. You don’t have the sickle-cell trait. Besides, Steven would have to have the trait, too, and I don’t think he does.”
Raising her hands in frustration, Melinda asked, “Why are you so set on seeing Steven and me get married?”
Bishop Johnson gave her a look that said he thought the answer was obvious. “The two of you belong together, baby girl. You may not see it, but your mother told me on countless occasions that you and Steven would end up together. She and Steven’s mother spent hours on end planning the wedding.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that you wanted me to marry Steven? Why did you have to give him the position you told me I would have one day?”
“I know you don’t understand why I would break my promise to you, but I prayed about this, and I truly believe this is the direction God has led me in.”
“Oh, so just forget about what I want, right?”
“If God wants something different, then, yes, baby girl, I have to forget about what you want.”
Melinda folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t believe God has anything to do with your decision at all. Don’t worry about it, though. I’m used to broken promises.”
When her mother had become deathly ill, Melinda had begged her not to die, and she had promised that she wouldn’t. So much for that. Steven had also made her a promise that hadn’t come to pass. Year by year, broken promise after broken promise, Melinda had learned to mistrust other people and their vows. God and her father had always been the exceptions; neither of them had ever made a false promise to her, and so she’d trusted them without question. She still held on to her trust in God, but, at this moment, her father had proven that he wasn’t the promise keeper she’d always believed him to be.
“I’m sorry, Melinda,” Bishop Johnson said with a sigh. “I don’t think I explained myself well enough at the hospital. I truly believe that I’m following the will of God. I just hope I haven’t scared you away from Steven.”
“Don’t worry about scaring me away—Steven’s the one who’s already scurried away from me.” Melinda was getting extremely frustrated with her father. She didn’t know how else to make him understand the way she was feeling than to come out with it. “Don’t you remember the way he treated me, Dad? He broke off our engagement two weeks before the wedding.”
“I remember it happening a little differently. The two of you sat in my office discussing your differences, and then you told him that you couldn’t marry a man with such a backward way of thinking.”
Melinda’s eyes bulged out, and she lifted her hands as if her point had been made. “And what did he do? He left town and never looked back. He never even tried to work with me to resolve our differences.”
“How could the man fight against God, Melinda?”
“He wouldn’t have been fighting against God if he had just accepted the fact that I have been called to the ministry, just as he was. But that wasn’t good enough for Steven. He wanted a woman who would open the door for him when he arrived home and wait on him hand and foot. That wasn’t me then, and it isn’t me now.”
“Give him a chance, baby girl. The man has changed,” her father pleaded.
Melinda stood up. “Steven Marks has not changed, and you know it. I can’t believe that you are doing this to me. When he becomes bishop, that man will not allow me to preach. So, what am I supposed to do? Leave the church I helped you build so that I can do what God has called me to do?”
Bishop Johnson stood up and placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “No, Melinda. You don’t have to leave. Marry Steven and work in the ministry with him. This is your destiny, baby girl. Don’t you see that?”
Shaking her head, she turned to walk out of the room, then turned back to face her father again. “You, Mamma, and Steven’s mother thought you had our lives all planned out for us. You just never considered that we have minds of our own.”

Thank you for being here, Vanessa, and I'm looking forward to posting the interview tomorrow! Readers, here's how you can find Vanessa:
www.vanessamiller.com

Here is the Book Trailer for Yesterday's Promise:



Vanessa Miller is giving away a copy of Yesterday's Promise. To be entered in the book giveaway, leave a comment and check back on Sunday, April 11th to see if you've won. You can enter twice--once on each post in this spotlight. If you want to guarantee that you're notified if you win, then leave your email address in the comment.