The Day in Church

All I can remember was the pastor preaching about our sermon that day. The rows of chairs filled with Christians, praising our one and only saviour, God. Everywhere you look you’ll see a Cross or a Bible by your side. I sat in an uncomfortable arm chair for a couple of hours waiting for the service to end. Even though it was uncomfortable I was worshipping God and the least I could do was thank him for all the blessings in my life. The only people next me were my aunt and brothers. My aunt influenced me into the world of christianity. She encouraged me to go to church every Sunday. I was never the religious type but spending a couple of hours for god wasn’t bad. Everytime I walk in the church there’s always a beam of a light peeking through the stained glass of Jesus. That beam of light brings me pure joy and is able to fill the air with happiness. I was at my happiest those days until I fell to the lowest point in my life.

My head hurt and I could barely get out of my bed after what I have just been told. Everything happened so fast and it was time for me to find a way to cope with it. My mind was telling me it wasn’t real and I refused to believe my grandma had passed away. The hurt I felt that day is indescribable and I still can’t explain it to this day. I wanted to pray because that’s what most christians do when something bad happens right? At that moment I couldn’t find any bit of faith in me, any bit of faith in god. I had lost all hope in my faith and I just wanted to get away from everything and think about all the good memories I had with my grandma. I missed her so much to the point where it hurt and while I was in bed my mom walked in. She was sobbing and everybody around me was hurting, even my brothers who didn’t know her as much as I did. All my emotions were rising and I was irritated with God because of how much hurt he brought my family. I didn’t know who else to blame and while my mom was comforting me trying to stay strong, she couldn’t hold one tear. The only thing I could ask God was, “Why me?”

My Grandma’s funeral was today and my faith was completely lost. Everybody around me was praying and too many thoughts were in my head for me to concentrate. My eyes were shut when they brought the casket out because I could feel my eyes starting to tear up. I wanted to stay strong because I know that’s what my Grandma would've wanted. But it was all for my Grandma, it wasn’t about me or my faith, it was about my Grandma finally being able to live peacefully in heaven. They played a video honoring her death, including prayers from other families to ours. I took a moment to listen to the air while the video was playing and all you can hear is muffled sounds. After my Grandma’s death I couldn’t remember another day