Alters and Sermons and Bibles

Walking into the unassuming glass doors each Sunday morning gave me a looming sense of dread. What would greet us on the other side of the walls, covered in banners of love expressions and smiling children with no shoes rallied around a white savior in a foreign country? Would it be the choir leader, a frumpy older woman with bright orange hair, who smiled so hard the wrinkles around her eyes seemed to droop down past the thin metal glasses that sat perched on her upturned nose? Would it be the group of teenage boys who professed their love for Jesus and abstinence in the early hours of youth group and spent the rest of their time harassing young girls and stealing dessert from the downstairs kitchen? Would it be one of the many older men that would rush towards me for a hug, only to linger a few moments too long for comfort? I would prepare myself for any of these, biting my tongue and walking expressionless behind my mom in her beautiful dresses and perfectly lain curled blonde hair. She was usually enough to keep the attention from me , and I hung around with my younger brother and played nintendo in the lobby until Mario would find us and tell us it was time for church. 

“I shouldn’t always have to hunt you guys down to get you into church with us!” Mario chastised, half joking, half serious. “Why don’t you hang out in the kids lounge? Then you can get to know everyone.” MJ and I exchanged a knowing look. 

“Dad, when we go there they always try to make us take bookmarks and read bible verses. They’re weird! Me and Courtney almost beat the snow level before you made us turn it off!” MJ exclaimed, still annoyed, and Mario tried his best to conceal his laughter, coughing into the nook of his arm. We would walk through the doors a few minutes late each time, Mario would turn pink and lead us to the front pew.

“See, I hope you guys are embarrassed.” MJ and I laughed, and that laughter followed us into our seats and continued through the worship songs and sermons. My mom standing in her typical angelic fashion on stage, Ellery stood holding hands with Mario, singing and swaying softly like a small flower sprouting from the rocks outside. The man standing before us lingered with the music fading into the background, and then signalled with outstretched arms to the rest of the room. 

“You may be seated.” 

I tuck my ipod into the pages of the bible which sits propped up onto my lap, completely out of sight of the elderly man who stood at the wooden podium, fidgeting with his glasses and explaining why gay people wouldn’t get into heaven. Mario saw me scrolling through the “pages”, and within moments my ipod was lost for the foreseeable future and I was left once again, counting the tiles in the ceiling and begging someone to jump through the stained glass window at the front of the room like the end of an action movie, an excuse to go home early and get some more time in on my board. The pastor continued on for minutes that aged like decades, though finally I heard the golden words of freedom,

“You are now dismissed.”

I tried to linger with the rest of my family, to mingle with strangers and comment on bland socio cultural topics, sports or the weather, but my feet seemed to be buzzing with one goal in mind, making it to the door. Mario saw this and glanced over at my mom, who seemed to be engrossed in conversation with a group of older ladies laughing. He walked to me, holding a styrofoam cup with traces of cappuccino cups stamped around the side. 

“How about we top off some coffee before we hit the road?” I nodded awkwardly, and we pushed through the throngs of old people to find the Keurig machine in the little cafe towards the end of the hallway. 

“Are you going to bring your skateboard to the park later? I know MJ has been wanting to try it and we can all play basketball, you can practice for your next game.” He effortlessly made conversation to help me feel comfortable, and I was halfway through answering when a short annoying girl with shoulder length flat brown hair and thick framed glasses bounced over to the table where we were waiting, spilling my newly filled cup of coffee. 

“Hi Courtney! My mom is taking Emma and I rollerskating and we want you to come! I asked your mom and she said it was fine! Do you want to go?!” 

Madelaine Peterson. This girl drove me absolutely insane. She was terribly annoying and followed me around from the moment we entered the building to the time we left,asking me to make friendship bracelets with her and have sleepovers, taking selfies with me when I wasn’t paying attention.I silently cursed my mom for opening me up to this, searching desperately through the archives of my brain for any excuse or reason not to go but sat mute, a deer in the headlights. 

“Hey Madelaine, I’m sure Courtney would love to go but I think Mel forgot we’re going out of town today. Maybe next time though!” He turned his back to her and slid off the chair, jerking his head silently telling me to do the same. I smiled at her without saying a word and followed him to the door, walking out to the car before anyone else could try to steal my Sunday. She stayed behind, watching as the doors came to a close behind me.

“I can’t believe mom would throw me under the bus like that!” I exclaimed to Mario and he laughed. 

“She just wants you to make some friends here. For some reason she thinks they’re nice, but I know that girl is 100% wacko.” My mom could burn down the building and Mario would defend her reasoning for doing so, he loved her so much. It made me roll my eyes then, but now I see how rare that is. 

“How did I throw you under the bus?!” My mom exclaimed, appearing from a crowd she slipped through effortlessly. 

“You said I could go hang out with Madelaine?! What is wrong with you? She’s insane, mom!” MJ and Ellery trailed behind us as we walked to the silver Durango in the corner of the parking lot, giggling at our conversation. 

“Courtney, she is a very nice girl and I thought you might have fun roller skating! I didn’t say you had to go, I was just giving you the option!” I rolled my eyes and we piled into the car. 

My mom turns up the music, contemporary christian with a soft guitar leading into a gentle, somewhat whining chorus. 

“Guys we just listened to this at church, can you turn on something more upbeat?” My mom ignored me, and Mario dashed a mischievous look to my mom before punching the buttons on the radio, a screeching guitar solo overlays heavy rock music and we all burst out laughing as my mom scowled and turned the volume dial way down. Mario reached over to take her hand in forgiveness, she snatches it away right beforehand, pretending she is looking for something in her large purse. He pouts, and then turns back to face us all in the backseat. 

“Kids, that was not funny. We need to respect your mom and her music, even if it isn’t the greatest or something we want to listen to.” He laughs as she smacks him playfully in the back of the head. They started talking about adult things and I took turns with Ellery and MJ playing Super Mario Bros, with one earbud stemming from my second ipod touch. That car ride drifted into the rest of forever, and I find myself questioning my own hesitations at these people I loved and who so very much loved me back. This was my family, completely and wholly, and I can never not think back to these moments and smile from my heart at the irreplaceable acts of my father.