Page 15 of Hidden Depths

“Oddly, that makes me feel a little better.”

Margaret chuckled and patted her on the shoulder before climbing back up the stairs. “Come in and make yourself at home. Jerry’s running through the songs right now, but you’re welcome to sit inside. He won’t mind.”

* * *

Sara slid into the very last pew, rubbed smooth from years of use. She waved at Jerry, who nodded in her direction while he tuned his guitar, then he adjusted his mic and began a quick sound check before playing.

Closing her eyes, Sara hummed along to the tune she recognized from another time she’d visited.

A heaviness settled on her. The one she always felt when she came. It wasn’t a bad feeling like when she was afraid, but it still made her nervous. She opened her eyes and looked up to the stained-glass windows on the east side of the room, filtering variegated light into the little chapel.

God, did you really bring me here today? Can you use the pain from my past and turn it into something else? Because I don’t want to be scared anymore. She was unsure whether she meant it as a prayer or was simply reminding herself of her daily battle.

She’d come this morning ready to make a declaration before the Almighty that she wouldn’t let the fear take hold in her heart anymore. But now that she was here, her confidence eroded as she began to understand what the weight really was. It was awe. How could she come before the creator of the universe, if He really existed, and expect Him to heed her wishes, or even listen to her?

A hand rested on her shoulder, and she jerked and twisted in her seat, raising her arms in self-defense.

Margaret whisked her arm back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No. You didn’t do anything. My head was in another place. I was startled.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt. I thought it was best to leave you alone, so I argued with God about coming over, but He’s very persistent.”

Sara smiled. Margaret always said exactly what was on her mind. Even if it made no sense to anyone but her.

“You argue with God?”

“More than I should, but thankfully, He doesn’t mind.”

“And I don’t mind you interrupting my solitude.”

“You may when you hear what I have to say.”

“Really?” Sara grimaced.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’m bracing myself. What is it?”

“I know you’ve got stuff you’re dealing with, and I hope you come here because you’ve recognized you can’t do it alone.”

“You didn’t think I would want to hear that? I appreciate your friendship. It means a lot.”

“No…well…I will be here for you as much as I can, but I’m not who you need to ask for help.”

For a fleeting moment, Sara wondered if Margaret had figured out her secret. “Who do you think can help me?”

“Jesus.”

“Oh. Is that all you were worried about saying? I’m in church. I expected him to be mentioned now and then. Why would you think I’d get offended by that?”

“You’ve heard of Him, but have you actually ever asked Jesus to be a part of your life?”

“I guess not. Is that something you guys do here? Formally ask for Jesus’ help?”

Margaret laughed. “We formally ask Him to be in charge of our lives. And it’s the only way you can ever really be set free.”

Sara’s face flattened. “You did it again.”

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