1552 words
Date: January 21st, 2018
Time: 7:00a.m., Sunday
That Sunday morning I found myself standing in front of my full body mirror, debating on whether or not I looked appropriate for the event at hand - church. The date seemed to come quickly, and I'd be lying if I told you that I hadn't been nervous the past few days. Truth is, I hadn't gone to church in a couple of years. In a way, this was new to me all over again. I wanted to impress. I had to impress. First impressions are everything.
Why do I feel this way? I asked myself as I was getting lost in my thoughts.
I wore a deep navy blue suit with a white dress shirt tucked behind the jacket, topped off with a blue and white striped tie. But I felt there was something missing.
Sighing to myself I decided staring into a mirror certainly wasn't going to change anything, and I hesitantly walked from view and sat at my desk. I figured I had a bit of time to write in that journal. Slowly becoming my best friend.
Good morning.
Anyway. So this morning I'm spending too much time deciding what to do. In my head are thoughts I don't want.
Am I good enough?
Am I good enough to go to church? A part of me says no because I've turned away from that life. But can I get it back? Will I get it back? What will it be like now?
Too many thoughts.
Of course I know that the people there very clearly won't judge me, but does that mean much? I've thrown away three different outfits today, and by thrown away, I literally mean thrown away. I grabbed a trash bag and stuffed the outfits inside before ditching the bag into a trash can outside.
Why?
Because they didn't look quite right and it frustrates me. I spent so much money on those outfits because at the time, they actually looked nice. Slowly I'm starting to see things I didn't before. Nothing is right right now. I'm thinking about getting a whole new wardrobe.
I've decided that my hair no longer fits the structure of my face, so instead of its usual slicked back style, I brushed the front over my forehead. It fits so much better. I feel like the closer the tips of my hair is to my eyes, the better it is. I have what some people literally call a very weird face. My eyes don't really open as wide as some people. I have really long eyelashes that genuinely compliment nothing. I'm not ugly. Just different.
You want to know how frustrated this whole week has made me? Okay. In the last 72 hours I've changed the style of my bedroom a dozen times, trying to get my mind off of everything. It didn't work, obviously.
I couldn't even begin to tell you just how crazy stressed I've actually been. But complaining about it isn't going to help it, I guess.
So with that being said, I'm going to go. See you tonight!
I wrote the date and time at the bottom of the page before closing the book. I slid it into the bookcase between a few other books, and I took in a deep breath, readying myself for church.
Grabbing my keys from the counter, I made sure my phone was in my pocket. With everything going smoothly, I walked outside of the house, the beautiful sun beaming down on my face. It smelt fresh of morning dew.
I locked up my house and made my way down the drive, getting into my car. I fixed the rear view mirror and turned the key into the ignition, listening to the engine rev to life. Pulling out of the driveway, I turned on the radio and listened to the local news station on my way to the church, which wasn't that far away, believe it or not.
Not too long after I left my house, I found myself pulling nervously into the parking lot outside of the small church. The church was just square shaped, white stucco siding was the outside. The windows were wide, white framed, and the steeple was unmissable as it showed atop the church with a wooden cross attached to it. There was also a big cross above the entrance door, the words "Baptist Church" engraved in the middle.
There was a sign in the grass that caught my attention, and it read:
3
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
9 What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?
10 I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it.
That was from chapter 3 of the book Ecclesiastes, verses 1 through 10. The chapter is called 'A time for everything.'
I don't know what it was about those words, but they seemed to awaken something inside of me, and I felt this feeling of confidence in my steps as I approached the door. Standing at the door, I swallowed what little nerves I felt an opened the door. The inside was beautiful.
Small, enough room for about 115 people, but bright with beauty. The floor was a dark wood with a lighter wood swirling in the darker bits. There were seats to the left and the right, and the small stage with a podium was straight ahead. There was two doors to the right far corner, which I assumed to be a male and female bathroom. To the left far corner was an entry way with no door, and I couldn't even begin to guess what was in there before I was approached by a man who looked to be around his mid 50's.
"Good morning!" He beamed with an energy that was strong enough to make anybody smile, and his warm welcoming said that he was a very nice person. "I don't think I've seen you here before. Welcome, welcome," he said.
"H-hi." I straightened my posture and reached my hand out for him to shake, to which he did.
He smiled. "Nice to meet you."
"You too," I said, looking around. I felt myself getting a little skittish as people began to come into the small church.
"Calm down, son," he said. "Everybody here are friendly, and will welcome you with open arms. We're all family here."
"Thanks," I said, scratching the back of my neck, which I discovered was something I did often when I was nervous.
Just then, a bubbly Nora came up to us with a wide smile. "You made it!" She threw her arms around me in a happy manner before pulling away and turning to the man who welcomed me at the door. "I see you've met my father," she said.
My mind automatically began to call myself an idiot. I should've known. Looking at the two of them I could completely see the resemblance. She took a lot after her father, having his eyes and smile. She stood lovingly at his side. She looked stunning that day. Her light pink summer dress looked really well with her hair which was pulled into a high pony tail.
"I see the resemblance." I smiled at her.
"Dad, this is my friend, Forest. Forest, meet my dad, the pastor as well," she said proudly.
"Nice to meet you," I said.
"Ah, so you're Forest?" he asked with curiosity.
"Yes, I am."
We held a short conversation before Nora's mother came over, and it was like looking at Nora from the future. Nora and her mother look very similar.
So far it hadn't been that bad, and I actually did miss that. The whole time there I felt like I knew everybody, even though I'd only known Nora. But when she introduced me to a lot of her friends, I knew my life was changing.
I felt like I had found something I thought was impossible. But to hold on to something right was a difficult task. Could I make it happen?
I guess you'll see in my next journal entry I wrote that night.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hey everyone! What are your thoughts on Forest? Nora? Her father?
The journey ahead is when things get real. Keep going 😉
-Lights♤♡◇♧☆