I’m not a bad child, but I’ve lost count of the times that I’ve snuck out of my parent’s house. A few of them were just to drive the empty streets of a small city in the heart of the west. To watch the lights change, and sit in front of the one that at two in the morning always, always remains red. Most of the time I would sneak out to go to concerts, but not the kind you would think. I didn’t go to loud, drug polluted rock concerts; I went to the best concerts in the world.
First off you must understand that I was born and raised an atheist. No god, no creation, simply growth and evolution. But unlike my parents I’ve always been utterly enthralled with any form of religion and belief in God. So, for me it was an absolute yes when I was first asked to go to a concert with one of my Christian friends. The experience was amazing, something I will never forget. I still remain in limbo in regards of what my own beliefs are, but I’ve been going to every Christian concert I could get to since that first fateful night.
I’m sure you’re wondering why I would go to these concerts, most of my friends wonder too. It’s truly a simple, and glorious, reason; I don’t go to hear the music, I go to see the people. The true believers that everyday gave their whole hearts to the God they love. When they hear the songs that express how they feel, the songs they know by heart their faces are euphoric. I can almost feel the love they feel, when I look at their faces. I’m on the verge of tears every time, my heart swells with the love they have; I couldn’t even imagine feeling that love in my own heart. I live to see their features lit up with the joy I can hardly comprehend. It’s amazing that they can feel such bliss just from words, words that love that which they love.
If my parents ever found out they’d probably murder me.