two

I watched as this god-fearing woman started breaking down at the sheer thought of someone going through this world without having God to guide them. Tears welled in her eyes as she told me that her and my dad used to pray and pray and pray outloud, together, at the altar.

I could only stare at her.

She talked about how scary it must be not to have God to turn to when things become too much. She talked about it being lonely and empty.

It almost made me feel something for the religion again. Seeing that pure faith she had.

If I still believed, it would have moved me.

I didn’t tell her I don’t believe anymore. That I don’t believe that there is anything out there looking over us. I didn’t tell her I haven’t felt the hands of God since I used to pray to him hoping that he would fix my life and he never did. Or at least not in the way that I wanted him to. I didn’t tell her that I used to cry in bed and curse his name over and over and over for cursing me with this existence. I didn’t tell her that if God was real, he wouldn’t love me because I’m not the perfect docile Eve he created as a model for the rest of us. I didn’t tell her that he would condemn me to Hell just for loving someone of the same gender. I didn’t tell her anything.

I stared at her and wondered if she could see the lack of faith on my face.

I stared at her and hoped and begged that she couldn’t see through my soul. The soul bound to Hell.

I stared and stared and watched tears form in the corners of her eyes and I stared.

All I could do was stare and hope that the tears in her eyes were blurring her vision too much to be able to see the real me.

I watched as this woman I’ve known for years felt sorrow and pain for someone else because of the meer thought that they didn’t have God in their life. That they didn’t have that person to pray to and to seek guidance from. I watched as the emotions of the past caught up to her and poured into her like God himself was flowing through her preaching his gospel. I watched. I hoped. I stayed silent.

I stayed silent like I have through every conversation where God is present. Through lectures, churches, baptisms, bible schools, bible studies, circles and preachers. I stayed silent and I stared. It was the only thing I knew to do.

By Shelbi Owen