14 CREATIVE NONFICTION Once in high school I was at a youth leader’s house for a girl’s night, and we were playing the compliment game where we went around in a circle, giving compliments to a chosen person before turning the affection to the next person. Most of the girls were crying from an overdose of sentiment. When it got to my turn, I nodded along as my brain felt clogged with sniffl ing noses, layers of side whispers, and creaking chairs and fl oorboards. During the round, my youth leader told me she loved how I worshiped— how I closed my eyes and swayed. I smiled with tight lips and thanked her. But the thanks tasted bitter. On Worship Gabrielle Utrie Because I wasn’t going to tell her that I dreaded worship time. Or that I wasn’t doing those things unconsciously because I was lost in the Spirit. I closed my eyes because the clatter of too many instruments and the burning of too-bright lights threatened to make my brain melt every Sunday. I swayed because, in lieu of covering my ears and making a fool of myself, I needed some way to counteract and regulate against the overwhelming rush of sounds. My coping had been recast as holiness. Christians aren’t supposed to dislike worship services. I constantly hear other Christians my age talk about how worship services feel rejuvenating and how they look
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