And there was evening and there was morning - the first day of being friends.
Don't take that as sacrilegious. It was the creation of something new - and I believe God declared that it was good...
I remember going to Church the following morning and seeing Sam through new eyes. Before he had been a stranger. Now I was beginning to know him. He got up to speak during the Breaking of Bread service. I noticed how when he talked about God he spoke candidly without pretense. He didn't dress up his language or use high theological terms. And in fact, he didn't even have a prayer voice. You may not know what I mean, so I'll explain. Some people talk to you normally in whatever manner is their style, but when it comes time to pray, they adopt a whole other vocabulary and tone. Their speech slows down in reverence. Their words become carefully chosen. I believe this is all out of a sense of respect towards God and I won't knock it - perhaps even I do this? I can't tell - I don't listen to myself pray, but I know God does, and I'm sure He doesn't really care if I use nicer vocab when speaking to Him! At the same time, Sam was not that way. He was direct and simple and expressed thoughts of sincere worship towards Christ in the remembrance of Him. It was beautiful. And I knew I was losing control of my heart in this situation.
At the same time, my heart had somewhat crumpled on the night of the burglary. I don't know a better word for it - withered, dried up, closed up? What term could best describe me at the time? I can't say. It was like unreality and trauma and happiness and fear all wrapped into one.