Living In A Godless World

I'm Diving In

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This is a short story I had to write for English class about something that made me scared. (Creative prompt, right?) Well here's what it turned into! Hope you like it! :)

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I put the finishing touches on my makeup, making sure my mascara was perfect.  I pulled a simple gray top on and tucked it into my flower-printed skirt.  Adjusting my straightened blonde hair, I walked out of my room and took the steps two at a time.  As usual, my family was late for church.  Our mornings were always hectic, with a 12-year-old boy who always refuses to wake up and two women needing to do hair and makeup.  This is a frustration to my punctual dad, who doesn’t have the capacity to understand the need for over fifteen minutes to get ready for the day. 

I hurried past my dad to get to the car first.  I love driving and take every chance I can to be in control of the car, even for the quick five-minute ride to church.  Once everyone was piled in, I quickly started the car and barreled around the corner to get onto 70th.  

“She’s gonna kill us!” my brother screamed.

“Don’t distract the driver!” my dad scolded him from the passenger seat.

“Slow down, Haley!” my mom warned.

I sighed. Another normal morning.

Within minutes we had turned into the parking lot, and I began the lengthy search for a spot.  The second I had the gear in “park,” everyone was leaping out of the car and speed walking toward the entrance.  I sprinted past them, eager to make it in time for the worship songs that always came first.  I blew past the greeter, who had just stuck his arm out to shake my hand.  We galloped up the steps and flew into the sanctuary, finding our usual seats.  The lights were low and the congregation was in the middle of singing “Our God.”  I grinned excitedly; it was one of my top five favorite songs. 

My parents sang quietly to themselves, as did the majority of the people in the room.  My brother didn’t sing at all.  I sang meaningfully, but I wasn’t as animated as others who chose to raise their hands and sway with the Spirit of God.  Suddenly I felt a stirring in my heart.  I felt a great need to reach my hand out to God, as if I could touch Him with the words I sang.  I glanced around me fearfully.  It seemed kind of embarrassing; no one around me was lifting their hands.  It would be too awkward. 

I stood there a moment, conflicting.  It seemed so trivial, yet I was so concerned with how weird I might seem if I raised my hands.  I scolded myself internally.  I shouldn’t care what other people thought.  No one even cared; they were focused on God, like I should be!  The song reached my favorite verse; the most intense part. 

“And if our God is for us, then who could ever stop us; and if our God is with us, then what could stand against!”

I sang the words from deep in my heart.  Before I knew it the song was over, and my hands were held high in the air.  I quickly lowered them and glanced around.  No one had noticed, except for my brother.  He giggled and gave me his usual you’re-so-embarrassing look.  I smiled to myself.  I didn’t care.  It had felt so amazing; I couldn’t wait for the next church service.

As I listened to Pastor Clark’s sermon, I felt joyful that I had finally had the courage to raise my hands to God during the worship songs.  It wasn’t about the actual motion of raising my arms... it was about laying myself down and focusing only on God while I worshipped Him.  I silently thanked God for giving me the courage to praise Him, fully.