Chapters (66)
- Cover
- Praise forWorlds Collide
- Title Page
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
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- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
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- JACK
- GRACE
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- GRACE
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- GRACE
- JACK
- GRACE
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- JACK
- GRACE
- EPILOGUE
- Copyright
Once we sat down, I allowed myself a good look at the room. It was packed with people: old, young, children, families—there must have been six or seven hundred people there. There were tons of Christmas lights, strung along the walls and hanging from the ceiling. The stage at the front was cluttered with risers for the choir, music stands and chairs for a band, and a large wooden podium in the center with a microphone sticking up from its top. I had only been in a couple of churches in my lifetime, but I’d never been in one with a stage like that. Nor had I been in one without pews; we were sitting in upscale folding chairs with seats upholstered in a dark cranberry.
“So what do you think?” Missy asked with a grin.
“Definitely not what I envisioned, that’s for sure. I didn’t know churches had stages.”
She chuckled. “Well, this church tries not to be super-churchy. It’s not very traditional. Not that tradition is bad or anything; it’s just not for everyone.”
I nodded. “Well, for someone who doesn’t know anything about the traditions, its a relief.”
She nodded to the program in my hand. “See anything you like?”
Upon entering the sanctuary we had been given a program listing the order of the service on the front. The rest of the pages—five of them—were filled with ads for ministries and events coming up at the church. I began to read them all with some interest. “I didn’t know churches did anything outside of Sunday services and weddings and things.”
“Oh yeah; this one does, anyway.” She pointed to a notice in the corner. “That’s the service I usually go to, the one with all the people our age I was telling you about.”
I nodded and read it, then moved on to the rest of the ads. I was only able to read the first couple of pages before the lights dimmed and the stage began to fill with singers and musicians.
We sang five Christmas carols along with the choir, and when we sat down after the last song I decided that those fifteen minutes had been worth my coming here. It had felt wonderful to sing those familiar songs and revel in the Christmas spirit.