If God is for us...

Chapter Two

"Terry! So good to see you." Daniel Carson, the young, fresh-faced youth pastor, smiled and shook Terry's hand.

"Nice to see you too, Pastor Daniel. So what are the plans for tonight?"

"Well, I'm gonna do a quick devotional on Psalm chapter one, then we have pizza for dinner!" Pastor Daniel rubbed his belly hungrily.

"Well..." Terry put on a mischievous grin. "I brought your favorite game!"

The youth pastor groaned. "My goodness, Terry, you know me too well."

Everyone at Los Angeles Baptist Church knew that Pastor Daniel Carson hated the game Outburst with all this heart. "Too loud," he would say. But even though Terry Overman knew this, she would bring it to every youth group as a joke. And everyone would play it. And everyone would try to be as loud as they could, on purpose of course.

Yes, the high school youth group at Los Angeles Baptist Church was the best. And Terry was never, ever going to leave.

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The Overmans pulled up at one of the tiniest churches Terry had ever seen.

"This is it?" she thought to herself.

"We're here!" her dad said. "Now everyone out, we're late!"

The family tumbled out of the car, Anthony nearly crushing Terry as he flew out of the back seat. "Let's go!" Mrs. Overman yelled. "Teresa, keep an eye on your sister!"

"Yes, Mom!" Terry replied cheerfully, but inside she was angry that her mother never called her what everyone else called her: Terry.

Worship had already started when the Overmans arrived. But this was unlike any worship Terry had ever seen. Instead of super cute teenage guys wearing skinny jeans and playing drums and electric guitar, there was simply a little old lady playing a piano that looked older than she was. As Terry scanned the rest of the room, she realized that no one that looked younger than sixty years old! The couple sitting near the front. The lady sitting in the very back pew, her shaking hands trying keep a battered hymnbook steady. All old!

As Terry was getting ready to completely freak out, her mother dragged her into the pew third from the back, and she found herself sitting right next to a twisted old man that smelled- well, like a old man!

Terry felt more embarrassed then she had ever felt in her life. She was sitting in a room full of old people, next to a SUPER old man! And the lady playing the piano- Terry could do better than her! And Terry had never taken piano lessons- ever!!!

"What. Do. I. Do," she thought frantically.

Just then her mom plopped a hymnbook on her lap. "Here!" she whispered rather loudly. "Now you can sing along!"

Terry looked down at the book, (which looked about three hundred years old), and found a song that Terry had NEVER heard before, let alone sang in church.

"Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord!" the congregation sang. "Let the earth hear His voice!"

Terry leaned over and whispered to her mom, "This is so not Los Angeles."

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The service was long and boring, nothing like the interesting and energetic preaching Terry heard at LABC. Pastor Donald Walker droned on and on about some passage in Romans, and even though Terry tried, she could not understand one word, though it seemed that at least one member of the congregation shouted "Amen" every ten seconds. So at least the old folks were getting something out of it.

The service ended with a very out of tune postlude. As soon as the last note had been played, the old guy next to Terry grabbed her hand and shook it vigorously.

"My name is John Spinnett. So nice to have you and your beautiful family at our church, miss." Mr. Spinnett gave Terry a crooked smile.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Spinnet," Terry replied.

"SpinnETT," the old man corrected. "So how'd you like the service?"

"It was- great," Terry lied. "Really enjoyed it."

"Good, good!" Mr. Spinnett grinned, showing his extremely crooked teeth. "Was a little scared there for a second, looked like you were falling asleep!"

Terry froze. "Oh, well, I enjoyed it nevertheless."

"My, little missy's using some big words!" Mr. Spinnett chuckled. "Bet you get straight As at school, huh?"

"Well, I'm homeschooled," Terry replied awkwardly. "My mom doesn't usually give grades, really."

"Well, then. You are a smart cookie." Mr. Spinnett grinned once more. "I best be going now. Come back next Sunday, okay darling?"

"Yes, sir," Terry answered politely.

"Phew, glad that's over," Anthony said once the man was out of earshot. "It was super awkward to listen to that conversation."

"Son, don't be rude," Mr. Overman chided. "Come on, kids, let's meet some other folks."

"Uhhmmm, I'm good," Terry replied.

"Terry, go with your dad." Mrs. Overman gave her daughter a small shove with her hand.

"Fine. Don't push me."

"Go. Now."