Worship #fiveminutefriday

Write. For five minutes straight. One-word prompt, five minutes, no editing. I'm linking up over at Lisa-Jo Baker (aka The Gypsy Mama) where we read, write and encourage.

It was the first time in years that I had bought a dress for myself. It was white, with blue pinstripes and a huge navy blue bow in the back whose ties draped down much longer than needed. I was nervous about the exposed shoulders, though, so I bought myself a lacy white cover.

I walked on unsteady heels, clenching his hand tight, the 9 AM sun already making his glasses transition to shades. He smiled, a big skinny grin and my heart flip flopped. 

I was going to church for a boy.

We followed his mother in as she sashayed, petite and perfect. Then his father, a powerful presence with a one-track mind. The congregation mingled and hummed as I tried to sneak to my seat in the family pew, smiling blandly at all of the unfamiliar people. This had never been done before and I was rigid with nervousness.

He squeezed my knee before he got up. Perhaps he was trying to prepare me in some small insignificant way before he embarrassed me in front of all those people. You could have heard a pin drop. 

"There are two things I turn to when I am upset or frustrated. The first is scripture. The second knows who she is."

That's when the entire church turned in their seats and stared. At me.

Sorry about the duckface...YOUTHS.