The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across my bedroom floor as I stirred awake to the creak of my door opening.
"Peter, get up, please? We're gonna be late for church." Aunt Eve poked her head in my room.
I glanced at the clock and groaned inwardly. 7:30 am.
"I think I'm sick," I lied, rolling over to face the wall. I wasn't sick, but I still felt horrible for the way I treated Eli when all he had been was sweet and kind and empathetic.
"Peter..." she trailed off as I heard her footsteps grow closer. The bed dipped as she sat down next to me.
"Eve please, it's just a day, don't do this to me," I muttered.
"I know you're not sick, and I know you've been avoiding me. Maybe this is just a depression from the cold weather, but we can't let that stop us from living our lives. You're 21, I'm not gonna force you to come, but God has a plan for you, Peter, trust in Him. Church is good, God is good. You've hardly ever not gone with me, so please," she nudged my shoulder gently, "get up."
Her words only made my anxiety worse. How could I trust in a God who seemed to have abandoned me? I've never felt so torn, especially after mine and Eli's talk three days ago.
"Fine," I sighed, reluctantly pushing back the covers and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I glanced at Eve as she stood, but before she left, she paused, turning her head towards the nightstand...towards my open notebook. Panic froze me as I realized what had happened.
Oh fuck.
Her brows furrowed in confusion as she reached for the notebook and studied my most recent sketch of Eli. I held my breath as her gaze flicked from the sketch to me. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, afraid of what she might say.
"Peter, what's this?" She asked.
"Um, nothing, I'm just...practicing. I'm not as good at portraits as I am at landscapes," I replied, doing my best to sound normal. "Especially sketches, I'm much better with a paintbrush than a pen and you know how Mallicks is."
"I get it, it's always good to practice and improve your skills."
"Definitely," I agreed, trying to maintain a steady voice. I stood and quickly grabbed a pair of brown tweed slacks and a sweater from my dresser and began putting them on, even though my hands were shaking horribly.
Eve continued flipping through the pages, and I hoped she wouldn't look up and see me trembling. "Are these all of the same person?" she asked casually, turning another page.
I grabbed the spray bottle from my dresser and dampened my hair. "Yeah, that's my friend Eli. We take the same anatomy class." I scrunched up my curls with some gel, avoiding Eve's gaze in the mirror. "But um, he knows Dr. Mallicks and so he's been helping me with my portraits." Lie.
"God has blessed you so much," she sighed, still flipping through the notebook. "He never fails to amaze me with the skills He gave you."
"Thanks, Eve," I muttered, unable to meet her eyes. "I appreciate that. I'm thankful to him everyday."
She smiled up at me, "Alright then, let's head downstairs and get ready for church," she announced, standing up and setting my notebook back down. "You are coming, right?"
"Right, yeah." I replied, forcing a smile. "Let's go."
I followed her as we left the room, I couldn't help but glance back at the notebook one last time, anxiety building in my chest. I'd have to be more careful about leaving my stuff out.
~~
The sun shone brightly through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the wood floor as Eve and I walked down the aisle of our old 1st baptist church. The familiar scent of some sweet musk and polished wood filled my nostrils, but instead of offering comfort as it used to, it only brought back the guilt in me ten fold. I haven't even done anything wrong. I shut Eli down, I didn't give into temptation. I could've, and I didn't. But then the question, why was I being tempted at all?
We found our regular pew and sat down together. "I'm so happy you came with me, Pete." Aunt Evelyn whispered, her eyes focused on the podium.
"Me too," I lied. My hands clenched tightly around the program in my lap.
"Let's pray," Pastor Simon announced, interrupting my thoughts. I mechanically bowed my head along with the rest of the congregation. But my heart wasn't in it, and I knew Aunt Evelyn could tell. As the words left the pastor's lips, I couldn't help but feel like God was looking into my very soul, exposing my darkest secrets to everyone in the room.
"Peter," Eve murmured softly as the worship leader began to sing, gently placing a hand on my arm, "is everything all right?"
I flinched involuntarily at her touch, feeling like she could somehow see straight through me. "Yeah, I'm fine." I lied, keeping my gaze fixed firmly on the projector screen.
"Are you sure?" She persisted, her eyes. "You've been so quiet lately, and you seem... troubled."
"Really, Auntie, I'm okay," I insisted, attempting to inject some conviction into my voice. "I've just been tired, that's all. Mallicks has been pushing me pretty hard recently and I'm just stressed."
She searched my face for a long moment, clearly unconvinced. Eventually, though, she sighed and relented, allowing me to retreat back into my own thoughts.
The pastor's voice rang through the church as he got back up on stage. I shifted uncomfortably in my pew.
"God invites us to bring our doubts before Him, just as the psalmist did when crying out, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? Psalm 13:1..."
I clenched my hands tightly, my knuckles turning white. My thoughts turned back to Eli, and how kind he'd been when I confessed what I've been feeling recently. How I knew without a doubt that I could trust him, and yet, somehow, I was struggling to trust God. And somehow, Eli had seen that too when he said 'So you're not religious, then?' Those words echoed loudly in my head, followed closely by 'If you're worried about my judgment, you certainly don't need to be.' Or whatever he'd said. So the gay guy will be there for me but God still remains silent?
"Expressing our doubts does not diminish our faith; rather, it deepens it. It is an act of trust, an acknowledgment that God can handle the rawness of our hearts. In our vulnerability, we find a sacred space where God meets us with understanding and compassion." Pastor Simon continued.
"Trusting God in the midst of doubt is not about having all the answers but about leaning on the One who does." Pastor Simon finally said, his voice resonating throughout the space.
What if I need answers? If God is all knowing then he knows exactly what I need to be shown or told in order to trust him right? So why is he silent? Is it about proving myself? Proving that I can trust him even though he gives me nothing in return besides fucking paranoia and anxiety.
~
We walked out of the church and made our way to the car, my heart still racing from the overwhelming sense of guilt that had consumed me during the service.
"Peter," she began hesitantly, the sound of the tires rolling over the gravel beneath us. "What's going on with you? You seemed so... uncomfortable in church."
I could feel the weight of her gaze as she waited for my answer, but I kept my eyes on the passing scenery outside the window. "I told you, Eve, I'm just tired. It's been a long week."
"Peter, I've known you your whole life," she said softly, her voice tinged with frustration. "I can tell when something's bothering you."
"Nothing's bothering me," I insisted, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "I promise, everything's fine."
Aunt Eve let out an exasperated sigh as she took a turn onto the main road. "I feel like you're hiding something from me." She paused, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "Is it something to do with your faith? Is it a girl?"
My heart thudded in my chest as I tried to think of a response. But before I could come up with anything, Aunt Eve continued. "Is there something going on in your life that's causing you to doubt God?" she asked gently.
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words hit me like a ton of bricks.
"I don't know," I admitted finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's just..." I started, struggling to put my feelings into words. "Lately I've been starting to question... everything."
"Question what exactly?" Aunt Evelyn prompted gently, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"My faith." I blurted out, unable to hold back any longer. My sexuality. The very foundations of my life because some boy kissed me and I fucking loved it.
Aunt Evelyn looked surprised but didn't say anything right away. After a moment of silence, she spoke again. "What specifically has been making you doubt your faith?"
"I don't know." I do know, but I can't tell her yet, not now.
"Pete, it's natural to have doubts and questions about our faith," she said gently. "But remember, our human minds are limited -- we can never fully understand God's ways or plans."
I sighed in frustration, feeling like we were going around in circles. "You're right, I get it. Maybe I'll see if I can talk to pastor Simon this week to talk about it more. I'm just in my head, you know?"
"I think that's a great idea," She paused, pulling into the driveway. "Don't think I never doubted him, because I have, but he is so much bigger than our doubt. We have to cast our fears on him, trust completely in him. Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge him, and he will direct your path, Proverbs 3:5."
The irony. If only it felt that simple.
As we pulled up to the house, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the screen: - Mallicks charity event at museum - 4:30 -
Oh shit, Mallicks had mentioned this event a few weeks back, he wanted me to go but i've been so distracted i totally forgot about it. I hesitated for a moment. I knew Eve wouldn't be thrilled about me going out on a Sunday, but it was for Mallicks and therefore my art, so I needed to.
"Everything okay?" Aunt Evelyn asked, noticing my hesitation as we walked inside.