Amen.

Chapter 1: Sunday Morning At Church.

NOTE: Will be a lot of switching back and forth between one person, second person, and third person writings.
However, the chapter starts with Abigail.
Enjoy!

-

        I sat in our pew as usual. I had left mom a note saying not to wake me up for church this time. I just didn't see the point in going anymore if I couldn't do anything but set there and listen to everyone ELSE talk as if it was the easiest thing in the world. When for me, it wasn't. However, as every week went, I woke up to Mom's low voice lightly waking me up for church.
I sat there  looking at the bulletin with all the words I normally would say. If I had a voice that is.
        Looking at the preacher, the choir, and all around at the congregation, I just started to cry. I can't take it anymore. Everyone else talks without a single worry. What's wrong with me that I can't talk? Being born mute, I feel like I'm set apart from everyone. The black sheep. Did I do something I wasn't supposed to do? With that I prayed, while still crying, *Lord, forgive me of my sins. Please. Anything I did that prolonged me talking, please forgive me for it. And please, You healed people before, I know You can heal me....I know You can....I know You can.*

        And, while crying, she just kept repeating that one part of her sentence - "I know You can." - sniffing between each time. Hoping it would do, something, anything.
       The preacher, seeing her cry, was so heartbroken. He knew her. He was close with the family, and went over frequently for meals just to spend time with the family. He knew how she was. She was so heartbroken. Depressed. And, he feared, questioned faith.

        I tried my best to go on with the sermon, but my heart ached to just go and let her cry on me. I tried my hardest, but I noticed everyone was not so much paying attention to me, rather than worried about her. Then I heard God tell me, "Tend to My sheep." Immediately I stopped preaching and walked over to her and hugged her. She was getting better quickly until she tried to say "I'm sorry." Then she really started to cry. Because, unlike everyone at her school. Everyone at church. Every single person she encountered anywhere, nothing came out.

       She fell against the preacher hugging him tightly, just pouring tears into his chest. He hugged her back tightly, telling her everything would be okay, but he didn't realize that him saying anything was just making her worse. Rather it was sweet things or not, he could talk, she couldn't, and THAT'S why she was crying.

       Eventually I had to go back and finish the sermon. I gently pushed her off me slightly and just looked at her. She wouldn't look me in the eye.

       She knew she must've looked horrible, she had make-up on. She started wiping her face quickly to get off any smears while thanking God he wore a black dress shirt.

        I held her arms back and layed them on her lap. I wiped the tears off her face and quietly said what was honestly on my mind, "You're beautiful Abby." With that she finally looked up at me, in awe.

        What?! No I'm not! My face probably looks like your shirt! I shook my head 'no'. Then he shook his 'yes' which made me giggle slightly. He grinned at me. He is so cute.

        I truly did think she was beautiful, and hated to leave her. I gave her one more quick hug and got up to go back to the sermon.

        She sat there. Tears lightly falling down her face, followed by her quickly wiping them. She thought to herself, *Why am I even here?* The answer quickly shown to her.
God slightly changed his sermon, titled "The Most Important Thing About Church." The preacher had a good sermon wrote, but God personalized it slightly.