Day 177: The Jesus Statue

The Prompt: You are in church and you accidentally break a statue of Jesus.  No one knows you did it.  What do you do?

Normally, I would have gathered the pieces in one pile, go straight to the pastor and tell him what happened, then tell him I would replace it.  Too bad I wasn't my normal self that day.  Maybe it was the anti-depressants I was taking, maybe it was the lack of sleep or the stress from my job.  Whatever it was, I was panicked.

"OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH, what am I gonna do?!"  I started hyperventilating as I turned around like a dog chasing his tail to look for a broom or somewhere to stash the pieces.  My eyes laid on the dark red drapes hanging behind the tall potted plants.

"Perfect."  I picked up the bigger pieces of ceramic and shoved them behind the drapes.  The jagged edges bulged against them, but I situated them in such a way to conceal them without anyone suspecting there was something hiding there.

"I'm so sorry, Jesus," I moaned as I traveled back and forth with broken arms, hair, and a robe.

As I finished my last trip, I heard voices coming from the hallway leading to pastor's office.  I quickened my pace, tossed the last pieces behind the drapes, and swept my foot over the last broken chips in an attempt to gather them under the nearest pew.

"Oh hi, Kila, I didn't know you were still here."

"Hi, Reverend.  I was just...praying a bit to Jesus, uh, God before I left."

"I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"No interruption.  I was just finished hiding- talking to Him."

"Good.  This is my friend, Henry.  He's visiting from Nebraska.  Henry and I went to high school together."

"Delighted to meet you."  I held my hand out awkwardly in front of the visitor's face, and I'm sure he felt the sweat that was on it.

"Nice to meet you too," he smiled politely.

I twisted my figures in my hands and kept staring at the empty pedestal where the Jesus statue had been, praying that they wouldn't notice it was missing.

"Henry gave me a present, and we were coming in here to figure out where to put it."  The pastor set down the paper bag he had been carrying and pulled out a wooden statue.  "It's a Jesus statue, carved of wood directly from Israel.  What I like about this one is that Jesus' face isn't exactly clear, and He looks simple and humble.

"To be honest," he leaned in closer to both of us, "I felt the old one I have is too ornate for the church.  I know it's Jesus, but I felt guilty displaying the statue, like it was an idol or something.  I want people to worship the God, not the object, which only serves as a reminder."  He straightened more.  "I was thinking of getting rid of it anyways.  His face kinda scares me."

Henry and the pastor both laughed heartily at this remark.  I couldn't force myself to laugh.  In fact, I could barely stand.  If they hadn't been there to catch me, I would have fainted right on the spot.