| |
Zoe
Zoe was actually excited to go to church. It made little sense to her, but that lack of reason didn’t dampen her excitement. She was so excited that she almost went to church early when her grandmother went. But then she decided she didn’t want to sit around and eat doughnuts with Gramma’s friends, so she stayed home and played on her phone instead. Nevertheless, her leg bounced up and down nervously, and she checked the time at least every two minutes.
Finally, it was time to go. She jumped up and headed for the door.
It was freezing outside, but Derek was still on the steps. He was singing, and she could see his breath in the cold air.
“Good morning,” she said brightly.
He stopped singing. “Good morning. Hey, sorry I tattled on you. It seemed the thing to do.”
She stopped. Tattled? Oh, so that’s why her grandmother had been looking for her. The homeless guy had ratted her out. “That’s okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. She forced another smile and then quickly went up the steps.
The sanctuary looked the same as it had looked on previous Sundays. All the same people were there. Yet, everything felt different.
When Jason walked in, Zoe’s breath caught. Stop it, she told herself. He’s just a boy. He’s not cake. She waited for him to drift into a pew and then went to him. He’d texted her back that all was forgiven, but she still wanted to make sure.
“Hey.”
He gave her a broad smile. “Hey yourself. Did you see the sign’s fixed?”
She nodded. “Yeah, but Isabelle wasn’t the one to fix it.”
He shrugged. “We’ll take what we can get. And rumor is they’re going to pay to have the window fixed too.”
Her first reaction to this was panic that she wouldn’t be able to use the broken window to sneak in anymore, but then she thought, Do I really need to sneak into the church anymore? She realized she was grinning like a nut and tried to wipe the smile from her face.
“You look happy.”
“Thanks. Yeah. I guess I am happy, a little. It’s been a weird weekend.”
Jason nodded as if he understood, which, of course, he didn’t. “Yeah.”
“I wanted to ask you ...” Her stomach felt like it was on a roller coaster.
“Yeah?”
“You invited me to a Bible study in the morning?”
He nodded with an eagerness that bordered on lunacy. “Thursday mornings!”
She smiled. “If that invitation still stands, I’d like to join you.”
“Of course! I’ll pick you up!”
“Great. Thanks.” She wondered if Alita went to Bible study, but then she decided that she didn’t care.
Rachel called out the two-minute warning.
“I’m gonna go sit with Gramma. See you later.”
“Do you want a ride to school tomorrow?”
She smiled. “Sure. That would be great. Thanks.”
She returned to the second pew, where her grandmother was sitting beside Walter. In fact, they were sitting quite closely together. Almost feeling like she was intruding, she gave them a buffer.
Her grandmother completely ignored this buffer and slid closer to her. “How are you doing, honey?”
She thought about how she should answer. She almost felt bubbly, but she didn’t know how to express bubbliness. “I’m good, Gramma. Like, really good.” She paused. How could she explain what she was feeling, what she’d figured out? “I’m sorry that I acted like all the Jesus stuff wasn’t real. I know now that it is.”
“Oh, honey!” Her grandmother slid even closer, wrapped her arm around her shoulders, and squeezed her so tightly it hurt. “I love you so much, sugar, and I am so proud of you.”
Zoe felt like beaming. Had anyone ever been proud of her? For anything? If so, they hadn’t told her.
Her grandmother kissed her on the temple. “Thanks for coming to live with me, kiddo.”
Yeah, like she’d had a choice. She giggled. “You’re welcome.”
Rachel carried her hymnal to the pulpit. “Welcome to New Beginnings Church! We’re so glad you’re here! Do we have any announcements?” She barely gave anyone a chance to answer before continuing, “Great. So, I know we usually start with some good old-fashioned hymns, but Fiona”—she glanced at the organist, who didn’t turn to look at the congregation—“heard a new song this week that she feels led to share with us. So ...” She turned to look at a mobile projector screen. Where had that come from? “We’re going to try to get some lyrics up on a screen.”
Nothing happened.
Rachel was staring intently at someone over Zoe’s head. Zoe turned to see Cathy in a near panic, fiddling with a projector. Should she go to help? She wasn’t sure she could do any better, but maybe? But then the great Jason hopped up and went to Cathy’s rescue. Oh good, she wouldn’t have to do it.
Within seconds, there were words on the screen. And immediately, without being told to, Fiona started to play.
“Feel free to sing along, if you know it,” Rachel said.
The melody grabbed Zoe by the heart and squeezed. There hadn’t even been any lyrics yet, and Zoe’s eyes watered. What was going on? She gripped the pew in front of her and looked at the floor. But then the congregation started to sing the words, and Zoe had to look up in order to follow along. I am brand-new. I am brand-new in you. When I’m feeling old, when I’m feeling worn, remind me that I’m brand-new in you. Whoa. Zoe hadn’t ever felt old, but she sure had felt worn, and she’d never felt brand-new. At least, not until yesterday, when whatever had happened had happened on that weird little porch, the porch on the church that wasn’t even a church. Was that what she was, brand-new?
The sky might be falling. The weight might be too much for my shoulders to bear. But I have heard you calling, so take this weight, take this pain, take all my cares. She didn’t know the tune yet, but she tried to sing along. I am brand-new. I am brand-new in you. When I’m feeling old, when I’m feeling worn, remind me how I’m brand-new in you. This song was hitting a little too close to home. Tears gushed out of her eyes. She stopped singing, stopped trying to follow along and keep up, and she simply bowed her head and listened to the others singing. I can forget yesterday. You have erased who I used to be. All I want to do is what you say. I just want to be the me you made me. Zoe smiled, remembering that voice, that voice that had broken through all her darkness: This is not who you are.
But things were different now. She could feel it. Finally, after all this time, she was becoming who she really was. She’d spent so much time hating herself, but that person she’d hated hadn’t even been the real her. And the thought of discovering who she really was thrilled her. It filled her with hope. It made her excited for the days ahead.
Unfortunately, the song ended, and they went back to their usual hymns. These were boring, but her encouragement didn’t dissipate. She was still on cloud nine when the final hymn ended and Cathy told them they could all sit.
Cathy was staring at the front door, which was in the back of the sanctuary. Zoe craned her head around to see that a man had entered their church. He wore jeans and a short sleeve dress shirt. He looked about twenty years old and carried a giant Bible at his hip. Who was this guy and where had he come from? Zoe turned back around. And why was Cathy staring at him like that? Zoe turned again to watch the man come down the aisle.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, sounding nervous.
Cathy seemed to find herself. “Of course not. No interruption at all. Welcome, welcome.” She put on her reading glasses and looked down at the papers on the pulpit. But she didn’t start talking. This was unusual. Cathy was always so comfortable up there, but right now, she looked distinctly uncomfortable. After a painful silence, she looked at the man again, peering out at him over her glasses. “I feel as though you have something you want to tell us.”
He glanced nervously around the sanctuary. What on earth was going on? He stood up and cleared his throat. “My name is Adam Lattin, and God told me to come here and be your pastor.”
For a minute, no one responded. Then Derek called out, “Well, it’s about time you showed up.”
