"Wow, today's service was really good," she said, full of enthusiasm. Her words carried a soft reverence, a tone that drew quiet respect.
"It was nice; I didn't expect it, but it was spirit-lifting. I feel renewed and hopeful for a better tomorrow... I just feel born again. I feel happy." Her eyes gleamed with an inner fire — a light of conviction and peace.
"That's the power of God," she said gently. "When His presence fills His own, there's peace even in the storm." Her voice was calm but carried the strength of experience.
I smiled at her proudly, warmth flooding through me. It always makes me happy seeing young people growing deeper in their relationship with Him. It's sad, really, how many of us chase after the world — fame, money, temporary happiness — thinking it will bring us joy. It might, for a moment, but when it fades, it leaves emptiness behind.
My mom was never rich. She had almost nothing, but I never saw her complain. Even in her worst days, she praised God. I once asked her why she had so much peace in hopelessness, and she told me, "In the midst of the storm, turn your eyes to the Lord and forget the winds outside. We can't control what happens in life, but we can control how we respond to it."
I try to understand her words — her strength — though maybe someday, I'll truly feel what she meant.
"Hey, guys," Gabriel called out, approaching us. His eyes caught mine with a playful spark. We met through Latoya two months ago when I first came to this church. He's dark-skinned, handsome, with a neat taper fade and long eyelashes that make his brown eyes stand out. Usually quiet, but once comfortable, he's talkative, almost goofy.
"Hey, Gabby," I teased. He hates that name — that's why I use it.
"Not funny," he muttered, rolling his eyes, and I couldn't help but laugh. His reaction was priceless, and I teased him again.
"You know, you actually look cute when you're annoyed," I said playfully.
He lightly nudged my shoulder. "Ouch," I laughed.
Latoya cleared her throat. "Hey, Latoya," Gabriel said, turning to give her a friendly hug.
"You didn't hug me," I said, pretending to pout.
"You teased me, so you don't deserve one," he smirked, still holding Latoya close.
"What, are you jealous?" he teased, eyebrow raised.
I laughed. "Jealous? Of you two? Never. You actually look cute together," I teased again.
He instantly stepped back, clearing his throat awkwardly. Latoya didn't seem to notice, but I caught the small flicker of discomfort in his eyes — and I decided to keep quiet about it.
"Anyway, I have to go. See you lovebirds later," I said, tapping his nose before walking off.
"Hey, Testimony," June greeted as I passed by.
"Hey," I said with a bright smile.
I pushed open the door to my house. "I'm back," I called out, but no one answered. The silence filled the air like a heavy blanket.
Where are they? I thought. Then I sighed. Doesn't matter. It's not like I care anyway.
But deep down, I knew that wasn't true. My heart whispered otherwise, and my conscience scolded me softly.
I'm still working on forgiving them. You can't disappear for sixteen years and expect forgiveness overnight.
But Mrs. Broncos and her kids didn't do anything to you, that small voice in my head reminded me.
Well, Mrs. Broncos did take my dad from my mom… and her two sons don't like me.
Then another truth echoed quietly: But Ashly tries. Mrs. Broncos too. And Dad… he's trying, in his own way.
I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside. Just then, my phone buzzed. Ashly was calling.
"Hey, Testimony," she said cheerfully.
"Morning," I murmured.
"Can you tell Mom I'll be home later than I thought?" she asked.
"No problem, but she's not home," I said.
"Oh, okay. Probably out with Dad. I'll call her then. Thanks," she said, and hung up.
I went to fix myself some breakfast — I was starving — but just as I turned, I bumped into someone. My heart jumped. For a second, I thought I was alone.
Then I saw Michael. He looked at me blankly, expression unreadable.
"Sorry," I said quickly, but he just rolled his eyes and walked away.
I stood there, a bit stunned. What's his problem?
I wasn't in the mood for drama, so I went back to my room. I tried to nap, but my thoughts wouldn't settle. So I sat at my study table, trying to brainstorm ideas for our story project. Plotting frustrates me; I'm more of a go-with-the-flow kind of writer.
After crumpling and tossing my twentieth paper into the trash, I groaned in frustration. "I'm bored," I muttered.
Then, a thought crossed my mind — Slavvy.
No, he's probably busy. But… maybe it wouldn't hurt to call.
Then another thought hit me — What would I even tell Dad if I left the house?
Who cares, I thought rebelliously. He never asked before.
"Testimony!" I scolded myself out loud. What's gotten into you?
I sighed and decided to distract myself by reading the Bible again — the same verses Pastor had shared earlier. I underlined, made notes, and felt a bit calmer.
My stomach grumbled again, and I was just about to grab something to eat when my phone rang. My heart skipped as I saw the caller ID — Slavvy.
"Hey," I answered softly.
"hey," he said in a deep, groggy voice, and I smiled without realizing it.
"You sound sleepy,"
"I just woke up," he said with a small laugh. "I was wondering if I could spend the day with you."
My heart flipped. "Uhmm… okay," I said, trying to sound calm.
"Alright, than, I'll pick you up in an hour," he said, still sounding half-asleep but cheerful.
I took a deep breath after the call ended, a shy smile playing on my lips.
Are we going too fast? I wondered. No. We just connect. That's all.
I got ready quickly, heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement. As I waited for him, I couldn't help but wonder — What would we do today? Where would this lead?