But I have prayed for you

The sanctuary is packed. I'm already sweating and it's only been ten minutes since I arrived. I'm waiting in the doorway and pretending to be busy with my phone as more saints walk into the church. The decoration inside is exquisite; It's obvious that the first lady, Mrs. Roshe was involved in the aesthetics department. It's the holy week; Jesus dies on the cross and rises to ascend to heaven but before He does, He visits the disciples a lot. I can't forget what the bible says about Thomas in that passage. The fact that Jesus went as far as prompting Thomas to feel His wounded hand in order to believe that He was the Son of God, is so crazy to me. I love that passage. Whenever I see my bible, that's the only passage I want to read over and over again. I can't imagine what it must have been like...being Thomas when that happened. I hang on that thought and step out of the way for congregants to enter with ease. I slide behind the large, brown flower pot with the Ficus tree in it and drop my shoulders. I feel like Thomas lately.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Susanna whispers to me. She's the kindest soul I know, or maybe I just love her because she missed a party last month to sit with me after service and listen to my ranting. Her sky-blue dress brushes against my left leg and I force a smile in her direction.

"Hey Susanna. You look beautiful", I hold back the tears building on in my eyelids.

She puts her hand on my shoulder and leans in to hug me. I let her, even though I want to punch her for encouraging the unwelcome cascade from my eyes.

"I'm glad you're here. Let me finish up with ushering and maybe we can sit together through the service. I have a good feeling about today's message", she beams at me then rushes to her ushering station.

I don't want to admit to myself, but I want to be good friends with her...forever. I feel lighter and start walking towards the seats. I intentionally walk in her aisle and smile sheepishly when she ushers me to the row behind her. Her father is Reverend Roshe, so I understand why she's hands on during this conference. It's one of the big ones for the body of Christ and even a non-believer can appreciate the effort put into making this all a success.

I take a seat beside a teenager who's on her phone and looks like she was forced to attend this service. I chuckle to myself and imagine holding her hand for support; I know how she feels. I'm looking for something and I'm not quite sure I'll find it here. Still, I'm glad I came because it was either this or a bogus party with my high school classmates, at a bar that should be out of business but just manages to break even and keep the lights on every month.

"Nice shoes", the young version of me beside me whispers and points at my red bottom heels.

"Thanks. You know, sometimes I can't understand properly when the preacher speaks because my brain processes things slower than the average. It's a weird genetics thing. Maybe you could listen for us both so I don't lose the message trail today. Pleeeaase", I look into her big, green eyes. I can't believe I just asked her that, but I do lose track a lot so it could help. She smiles awkwardly and tilts her head.

"That's sad. Okay, I'll listen and you let me know what you didn't hear", I smile and nod.

I look forward and place my black purse on the empty seat beside me. I just persuaded a teenager to attentively listen in church. Can someone say MOM ALERT!

The Reverend and the rest of his family walk in and most of the congregation stand in honour. He smiles and nods as a greeting to them all and takes a seat in the front row. Mrs. Roshe moves slowly behind him, surveying the appearance of the flowers, the draping and then the tables set before the front row seats. The hues of blue have turned the large auditorium into a cloud on the ground, a beautiful set up. It makes me think of what it must've looked like when Jesus ascended to heaven. I feel like crying again so I interrupt the thought as the church choir moves to the stage.

They sing amazing grace, and I can't recall when I stood up but I'm on my red bottoms and absolutely balling my eyes out. the younger version of me hands me a tissue and I turn to ask what her name is.

"I'm Louis", she answers.

I frown impulsively, but quickly raise my eyebrows so she's not offended.

"I know. It's an old woman's name. Everyone tells me that", Louis remarks.

"Oh it's a beautiful name. I frowned because it's my mother's name and I miss her a lot lately. She was Louis Vanne", I tell her. I'm careful not to overshare since this is a teenager I'm dealing with.

She gives me a hug and holds on for over ten seconds. I'm not sure what else to do so I wrap my hands around her waist.

"You used past tense. I'm sorry for your loss", she looks at me and I can easily forget that she's a kid.

"Thank you", I whisper.

The program director has taken over and the choir is seated. I know it's time for announcements and the likes so I zone out of that and try to understand how I'm feeling and why. I sit down and start to think.

Before mom died two years ago, she crippled me. She said the most disastrous thing that she could've possibly said to me and breathed her last. "Your sister blames you for Rowin's death. You two need to forgive each other and move forward. She doesn't talk to you and you don't reach out to her. It's the elephant in the room. You need to kill it".

I've blamed myself for his death since it happened. My nephew's precious life taken too soon. He was just 2 years old. A beautiful bouncing boy, literally. He had the most contagious laugh and a boldness that I know would've taken him far. He was perfect. I was in the kitchen, getting his lunch ready and he was moving about in the living room. The noises he was making along with the sound of his crawling kept me aware that he was alright. And then I turned the microwave on and waited the whole minute and thirty seconds. Just one minute and thirty seconds! That's all it took for my whole life to turn upside down.

I'd left the glass door open and little Rowin had slipped out and crawled into the outdoor pool. One minute and thirty seconds.

I don't recall much else from that point until the funeral. Zoe wouldn't or couldn't even look at me. I wanted to roll on the floor, at her feet and apologize indefinitely, but I didn't even get the chance to speak to her that day. She cried that whole day, and during the procession she was inconsolable. Rowin was gone and he was in my care when it happened. I recall my therapist telling me that it wasn't my fault and I had to force myself not to launch from across the table to tackle her. What did she mean it wasn't my fault?! I killed my nephew. He died in my pool. I didn't shut the door while a toddler was playing alone…

"Ladies and gentleman, saints of the Most High God. We welcome you all to the sanctuary to kickstart the holy week and fellowship with our Savior, Jesus Christ!

The congregation applauds. I join the applause and dismiss my thoughts. I will force myself to listen attentively throughout this entire sermon. I need something. Anything other than what I’ve been feeling lately.

Before I know it, I’m crying again and I miss the rest of the introductory remarks. The lights are suddenly too bright for me and I want to go home, but right in that moment, I feel Louis’ warm palm on my deoxygenated hand. She squeezes it gently and my eyes stay on her pretty fingers. I can’t afford to look her in the eyes, looking like this. I make sure to smile and side-eye her so she knows I appreciate the gesture, before I turn to my bag and look for tissues.

“What’s your name? I mean I might as well know it since we’re sitting together tonight”, Louis prompts me.

“Rylie. But everyone calls me Rye”, I answer while wiggling my nose into the tissue.

“That’s so cool. It sounds like a rock star’s name. Or the name of a place where rock n roll concerts are hosted a lot.”

I laugh at that and try to refocus on the sermon. This young lady needs to focus too.

The red, cushioned chairs we’re sitting on are too comfortable and I’m fighting drowsiness, but I need what I came to get. And even though I don’t know what that is yet, I’m confident I’ll receive it tonight.

“Hallelujah! Oh hallelujah! Is anyone else excited for the word we’re all about to receive tonight?! I know I am. We’ll be reading from Luke 22:31-32, and I know it’s quite unorthodox to start there in this week. But there’s something God has sent me to remind us all before we dive into the journey to the cross. Amen?”

We shout ‘amen’ in unison.

I grab my bible from my bag and try to keep the highlighted scripture in my head. I page my bible and look to my neighbor for the exact verse. I’m please she has a physical bible. There may be more than meets the eye with this girl, Louis. The man at the pulpit waits for us to open our bibles and find the scripture now appearing on the big screen behind him.

I find it after about ten seconds and that feels good so I smile to myself. The man of God upfront begins to read the verses.

31 “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. 32 But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers. AMEN!”

The church shouts ‘amen’ and something in me is ignited.

“Church, your Father in heaven is always looking out for you. Imagine how Jesus knew that Peter would deny Him but Jesus wasn’t interested in condemning Peter for that. Instead, Jesus wanted to remind Peter whose he is…despite the denial. He wanted Peter to understand that even though the devil was plotting against him, Jesus had already taken care of it and restored Peter through prayer. No one else in the bible, besides Jesus Christ presents intercession in such a selfless manner. That alone saints, makes Him worthy to be praised and lifted up. Our Lord and Savior Hallelujah!”

I don’t know when I stood up but I’ve been on my feet since the man started speaking on the verses. I don’t know this scripture but it feels like something I’ve heard before. Like I’m just getting a reminder of something I’ve known but kept denying. I look over my shoulder to reach for my purse and…

“Here you go”, my sister speaks softly and hands me a tissue.

I freeze in that moment. I don’t know whether I’m asleep now or this is a prank Susanna put together. I remember her saying that God would work it out in a way I least expect, but this is beyond any expectations. I look around to see if anyone is secretly looking on for my reaction. Elsa stands up and wipes my face, then embraces me.

“Oh my God. Els. What are you doing here? When did you…”

I can’t control the tears running down my cheeks. We both sit slowly and she’s crying too. The pastor is still preaching but I’m not listening. Elsa takes my hand and places it on her cheek.

“I’m so sorry I blamed you. I was grieving my son but you were grieving too. I can’t imagine how it must have felt, with mom breathing down your neck about it. I abandoned you. I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t your fault. I need you to believe that and forgive yourself for thinking it was. You didn’t kill him and I know you wouldn’t have purposely left that door open for him to crawl out of it. Sometimes I thought you loved him more than I did Rye. That’s how I know you really loved my boy. We lost him, but we still have each other. You still have me. Okay? You still have your sister. I love you.”

I said nothing and just fell into her arms in that moment. I felt a lifting off my shoulders and we both wept. I could see a few chairs in the front row because people were walking up to the altar to offer and then I spotted her. Susanna. She had that big reassuring smile on her face and she was looking right at me. When our eyes met, she put her hands together and blew a kiss in my direction. I knew what she was saying and I just beamed in my sister’s arms like a little girl. In that moment, I knew I was finally free.