I Was Void | Teen Ink

I Was Void

October 9, 2013
By Alyssa Ferguson BRONZE, Vancouver, Washington
Alyssa Ferguson BRONZE, Vancouver, Washington
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Before I went to that church I put some cover-up over my eye. As I continued to get ready, I let my mind wander. Why did I get roped into going to this stupid church anyways? It’s not like God had ever shown me any favors.


If there was a God.


I smiled as I pictured my 5’1” glasses wearing, book nerd of a best-friend. Not many people had befriended the frizzy haired brunette three years ago when she had moved to Denver, freshman year. She was kind of like a Jesus freak. Didn’t really realize when she went too far with the whole religion thing. But despite all of that, something drew me to her– maybe it was her passion for life? For something more? Who knows.


I was five, sitting in that stuffy building next to him. “Let’s all bow our heads and hearts for the benediction”- I looked around me as everyone dipped their heads simultaneously, he did too. His over- greased hair stiff, except for the one lock that fell across his forehead whenever he moved. “BOW,” he hissed.


A vibration in my pocket pulled me out of my jumbled thoughts and back into reality.


“Coming! Be there in 5. ?”


Oh gosh – why did I let Miranda talk me into this? I looked at myself as I got ready. Lots of people called me pretty– some guys definitely didn’t mind letting me know what they thought about me. But when I looked in the mirror, I saw blonde hair that was too straight, a face extremely round and blue eyes that were flat. And now thanks to Steve I was trying to do my best to cover up the black and purple bruise that was beginning to form above the crease on my eyelid.


Steve. I automatically tensed up. Why did my mom have to marry that good- for-nothing slime-ball? Just thinking about his coal black snake eyes made me cringe. She could have done so much better. That slow mocking smirk that would start at the right corner of his mouth accentuated his T shaped scar every time.


Whenever his shadow darkened my doorway, I knew there would be trouble. Why did I have to resist like just 10 minutes ago? Maybe it was because I was going to church. I had thought for one twisted second that if I said no, I wouldn’t be as dirty walking into that building with all of those ‘ Holier-than-thou’s’ then I already was.


But Steve always got his way. And if Miranda didn’t show up soon, my make-up would rub off and EVERYONE would ask what was wrong, and then I’d have to come up with some lame excuse like–


“Kirsten honey, Miranda’s here!”


Great. Better get this over with sooner than later.


As we got out of the car, Miranda’s genuine smile calmed me down. Just a smidge.


“Kirsten, its fine! It’s not like you’re being marched onto death row or anything. Lighten up a little bit!”


“Hey. You GOT me here Miranda– don’t expect me to be happy about it. Not even your God could make that happen.”


As soon as I saw the wounded look in her hazel eyes, I wished the words had never left my mouth.


“Miranda look, I’m–“


“No, it’s fine.” She interjected. “I’m so happy you’ve finally decided to come, I’ve been praying for this a looooong time!”


“Well I’m glad I’m the answer to all your prayers!” I said with a flamboyant flick of my jacket.


As soon as I sat down in the pew, something felt different. Normally at church they would stuff us in those gyms that reeked of middle school body odor and force us to play those corny games that only the die-hard Christians enjoyed.


Not this time, though. A man was standing up in the front of everyone. He seemed about 30 years old, had curly blonde hair, and piercingly bright blue eyes that were underneath perfectly sculpted eyebrows. He was of medium build; heck if he was 10 years younger, and subtracted the preacher part– Id totally be all over that.


‘Kirsten!’ I thought. ‘Don’t think of the preacher that way, isn’t it some kind of sin?’


As he was speaking about “How much Jesus loves you,” his eyes would look right into the depths of my soul. Even if it was only for a moment- it’s like he saw all my doubts, and didn’t judge me for them.


“Wow! This guy is awesome!” Miranda fervently whispered. “I didn’t realize that we were going to have a guest speaker tonight.”


I sneaked a side-long glance at her face, and noticed the awe-struck look that took up residence there.



He started in a deep baritone voice, “John 3:16- For God so loved the world…”


“Well, He sure has a lousy way of showing it.” I muttered under my breath.


As I started to actually listen to the preacher’s words, my resolve began to weaken. What he was saying made me think of things in a different way– I wanted to learn more.


‘God, if You’re real, prove it.’ I silently challenged.


It seemed like it had only been 10 minutes by the time I had looked at my watch. 0NE HOUR?!


Everyone suddenly stood up. The preacher man stayed where he was, and picked up a guitar. He began gently strumming the strings to the tune “Oceans.”


The air in the room grew static. It was kind of freaky to be honest. I was just about to pull on Miranda’s sleeve to ask her if we could leave, when the blonde haired man stopped singing and looked directly at me.


“I just feel that the Lord is putting it on my heart to say how much He loves you, and wants to free you.”


I looked back at him, slightly unnerved, but held my ground.


“We all come from different backgrounds- you may wonder why the things that happen in your life do.”


I was silently freaking out.


“You might think that nobody sees what your Stepfather does to you when you are alone and beg him to stop. But guess what? God sees. And it breaks His heart.”


HOW DID HE KNOW THIS?? I never told anyone, not even Miranda.


“He can help you. You are His child, and He wants to be there for you. You just have to let Him.”


I broke. Right there in the middle of everyone. I sat there sobbing on a pew in a church, filled with people I had never seen in my life. But you know what? I had never felt more at peace.


An overwhelming sense of calm flooded through me, and for the first time in a long while I felt safe.




After service I spotted him across the lobby, making his rounds. He looked up, and for a split second we made eye-contact. Those eyes– warm, yet strikingly intimidating. I’ll never forget those eyes.


“Hey Kirsten, what time is it?” Miranda asked.


I reluctantly looked down at my watch and told her the time as I looked back up to the last place I’d seen the man.


He was gone. Nowhere to be found.


The author's comments:
I hope that people will see there is a light at the end of the tunnel. No matter how dark it seems.

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.