Becoming Eleanora

Chapter 4: Praise the lord

I stood nervously outside the familiar white walls of my Methodist church, waiting for Nate to arrive. I had invited him to join me for the Sunday service, hoping that he might be open to converting, even though I knew he was Muslim. A part of me believed that if he experienced the love that God has for us and how we praise him firsthand, he might find a connection to it.

As Nate approached, his warm smile greeted me, momentarily easing my apprehension. "Hey, Ellie. Thanks for inviting me, But I don’t think I should be here."

"You're welcome, and you’ll love it here, and everyone would love you" I replied, trying to hide my excitement. "I thought you might find it interesting, and who knows, maybe you'll like it."

We entered the church together, and I introduced him to some of the church members I knew. Specifically, sister Paulette, Deaconess Jodi and One of the ladies in the choir, Joanna. Despite the welcoming atmosphere, I couldn't shake the unease that lingered in the back of my mind. I worried that my desire for Nate to embrace my faith might come across as pushy or disrespectful of his beliefs. I didn’t want to seem like I'm forcing Christianity on anyone and besides, there’s not much difference between Islam and Christianity? I just wanted him to give it a try, just once and then he’ll decide whether he’s going to convert

As the service began, I found myself stealing glances at Nate, trying to gauge his reaction to the unfamiliar services and ways of worship. However, it became apparent that he was uncomfortable, his body tense and his eyes avoiding contact with anyone around him, sometimes he’d frown a little bit.

Throughout the sermon, I felt a growing sense of guilt. I had invited Nate with good intentions of him getting to know God and be saved. But it was obvious he was passionate about his religion, and I loved that, I wish I was that strong of a Christian.

After the service ended, Nate and I stepped outside, and I took a deep breath, summoning the courage to address the issue head-on.

"Nate," I began, my voice tinged with happiness and a little bit of guilt. "You loved it right? It was lit! The choir, the pastor, the dancin’ the-”

He looked at me, his face squeezed. "Nora, are you trying to get me to convert?"

"Not really, I was just inviting you to the kingdom of the lord" I defended. "You’re always asking me to try new stuff so I decided it would be best if you came to church with me. I’m sorry if it came out wrong, I respect your beliefs"

Nate sighed, and for a moment, there was silence between us. “Nora, you know what you did or what you’re doing. How can you be on holy grounds and still be sinning? I know you do not respect Allah but please, respect your God"

Tears welled up in my eyes as he said that, even after I didn’t respect him and I violated his entire religion, he still cared about me and my relationship with God. I had let my desire for Nate to embrace my faith blind me to the importance of respecting his beliefs. In my attempt to bring us closer, I had inadvertently created a rift between us.

"I'm so sorry, Nate," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "I never wanted to hurt you or push you away. I just... I just thought it might help you see why my faith is important to me."

"I understand, but our faiths are different, and that's okay," he said gently. "We can still be friends and respect each other's beliefs without trying to change them."

I nodded, wiping away my tears. "So, are you going to join our church?" When I said tat, Nate looked at me in a way that he has never looked at me before, with anger in his eyes. It was like a death stare, worse than that of my mothers’

"You know what? Allah forgive me for saying this, You’re nothing but a negative, self-absorbed, attention seeking, disappointment to your family. Maybe that’s why you’re in a wheelchair, because your God wanted to give you the treatment that you deserve. I hope you never walk again; I hope you never see the pretty part of the sun, and I hope that you would never find happiness” when he said that I was shocked and hurt, I’ve never seen Nate this mad, or even mad at all! All he said hit me hard like a giant shard of glass to the chest and all I could do was to stare at the one who stabbed me in pain

In the aftermath of the misunderstanding with Nate, I found solace in the one place that had always felt like home—the companionship Noah. Our bond had been overshadowed by the turmoil of our parents' crumbling relationship, but now, we sought refuge in each other's company.

One evening, as the sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, I found Noah sitting alone on the back porch, gazing out at the setting sun. His dark curls glinted in the fading light, and I sensed an air of vulnerability about him that I hadn't noticed before.

"Hey, Noah," I called softly, joining him on the porch.

He looked up, his expression softening as he saw me. "Hey, Ellie."

We sat in comfortable silence, the sound of crickets filling the air. In that moment, I felt a connection with my brother that was beyond words—a silent understanding that bound us together. "Sometimes, I feel like everything's falling apart," Noah finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, the weight of our family's struggles sitting heavily on my shoulders as well. "I know, Noah. It's hard to see everything in disarray, but we have each other. We can be there for one another."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with gratitude. "I know you’ve tried to be there for us, all of us. And I know things are getting harder right now, especially with your situation. But we love you, we all love you."

I smiled, touched by his words. "I love you too, Noah. We're in this together."

In the days that followed, Noah and I sought refuge in each other's presence. We spent more time together, playing games, and simply being there for each other when the weight of our family's dissonance became too much to bear.

As we navigated through the challenges of life together, I began to see my brother in a new light. He was not just the pesky little brother who annoyed me at times; he was a teenager with dreams, fears, and a heart full of emotions.

Noah's laughter became a balm to my soul, and his easygoing nature brought a sense of lightness to my life. In him, I found a confidant—a person with whom I could share my deepest thoughts and feelings without judgment.

Together, we created our own sanctuary within the confines of our home, shielding ourselves from the dissonance that threatened to tear us apart. In each other's company, we found comfort and strength, and our bond as siblings grew stronger with each passing day.

Noah's presence in my life became a source of inspiration. He helped me to keep going. He taught me to find joy in the little things, to cherish the moments of laughter amidst the darkness, and to embrace the imperfections that made us human.

In Noah, I found an anchor—a constant presence in a world of uncertainty. He reminded me that family was not just bound by blood but by the love and support we offered each other.

And so, hand in hand, we stepped into the unknown, ready to face whatever life had in store, knowing that we had each other—the comfort of a sibling bond that would weather any storm.