Erika
The sun was already casting its golden light across the college town as Asia and I hurried down the street, our heels clicking against the pavement, echoing our frantic pace. My aunt Kelly was waiting outside the church, arms crossed and tapping her foot, her expression a mix of irritation and love.
"Y'all better come on!" she called, her voice carrying the familiar fierceness that always had the power to make us laugh even in the midst of our rushing. "You know how I feel about being late!"
We skidded to a stop, out of breath and throwing our hands up in mock surrender. "We're here, Aunt Kelly! Just fashionably late!" I said, unable to suppress a grin.
"Fashionably late? You think this is a runway?" she snapped playfully, shaking her head but smiling beneath it all. As we walked into the church, shiny Bibles in hand, the warmth of the congregation washed over me. The air buzzed with excitement, and I took a moment to bask in the familiar sounds—the rustling of pews, the whispers of prayers, and the hustle of families settling in.
The choir began to sing, their voices soaring through the sanctuary, a blend of passion and soul that made my heart swell. As our sermon began, I found myself stealing glances at Asia and my cousin Tasha, who were already scouting out the good-looking brothers in the congregation.
"Y'all better pay attention!" Aunt Kelly teased, a twinkle in her eye. I couldn't help but giggle at my aunt's witty reprimands. She truly was a force of nature.
"Trust me, Kelly, we're listening!" I whispered to her, though my heart was racing not just from the thrill of the church but also from the weight of my thoughts. The pastor's vibrant voice thundered through the space, bringing words that seemed directed straight at me. He spoke about overcoming life's trials, breaking free from toxic relationships, and stepping into the light of prosperity.
I could feel the heat rise in my chest as I remembered Casey, the cheating boyfriend who had once meant so much to me. The pastor's message felt like a rallying cry, and I raised my hand in worship, letting a "Hallelujah!" escape my lips. Asia joined in beside me, our spirits entwined in a dance of faith and resilience.
The choir sang again, their vibrant harmonies pulling us to our feet, and I surrendered to the joy of being surrounded by people who understood the power of love and community.
As the collection plate circled us, I felt a rush of gratitude for the little blessings in my life. When the service concluded, the church buzzed with conversation. The elderly women, mothers, and friends all reached out to chat about the sermon, sharing their hopes and struggles. I felt a sense of belonging envelop me—it was a reminder that I wasn't alone in my battles.
Walking out of those double doors, a lightness in my step, I squeezed Asia's hand. The world outside seemed a little brighter. Today, in this sacred space, I had reclaimed a piece of myself, a glimmer of hope, and the courage to break free from my past.
