Le’Andria, You've Been Court-Ordered to Marry Marvin Winans —It’s for the Culture - With His Mean Self

So the other day, I was minding my God-given, sanctified business—as I usually do because contrary to popular belief, I don’t be on social media like that. But lo and behold, the algorithm said "not today, sis." And what did I see?

A clip of Donnie McClurkin tryna get Bishop Marvin Winans to sing “The Question Is.” I said, “Now what in the gospel Verzuz is going on here?”

And Leandria, ma'am! Marvin. sir you need some prophecy. In the biblical sense of course.

Leandra is an ordained Pastor.

I say this with much love.

Now you know we love our Winans and are excited anytime we get a chance to hear one of you sing. Donnie was operating in that same energy. He seemed like his feelings were hurt, but he kept his composer.

He gave us not an ounce of energy, not a hem, not a grace note. He was sitting there like he had just paid off somebody's building fund and wasn’t about to give another thing. I mean, his body language said, “The question is… why am I here?” And at church of all places. How are we going to draw people in acting like that.

Now listen—I peeped the comments. Folks were saying he was with his grandson. Okay, fair. But respectfully? That boy was sitting on his lap in church. Not the dentist office, not Chuck E. Cheese—church, ma’am.

And if you’ve ever been any type of Black or Pentecostal, you know when the mic hits your hand, you’re expected to come with a full solo, a shout track, and a testimony. His grandson would’ve remembered that moment for life. Miss me with the excuses.

Which brings me to this: Marvin Winans needs some love pr a prophetic word from the Lord, y’all. Some joy. Some spice. Some somebody to lay hands on him and knock that stoicism out his spirit.

So we, the Internet Council of Sanctified Saints and Sanctified Shenanigans, have sentenced Marvin Winans to date Le’Andria Johnson. Effective immediately.

Now before y’all clutch your pearls, just hear me out. LeLe needs structure. Marvin needs laughter. She needs a man who will tell her, “Take that bonnet off and get in the car, we going to church.” He needs a woman who’ll say, “Wear them sneakers and take that robe off, we going to the skating rink.” The balance!

Imagine the duets. The drama. The reality show potential. Fix My Life: Bishop & The B3.

But on a real note, we love Marvin.

We just miss that smiling, joyful Marvin from back in the day.

The Marvin that would sing you into a healing and shout in a full three-piece suit. Somebody go check on him. Maybe even slip him a sip of communion wine (just the red cup kind) and remind him the saints still love him.