So, what does it matter to you anyway?

I walk into the chapel, excited for a new day of lessons. I have been waiting so long for the lectures to begin proper, to simply bask in the presence of God while absorbing new truths and to grow wonderfully and to wean new understanding from the Old Testament that I've never read properly. I'm thirty minutes early, and I take out my laptop to take down the things I have read on the way to church so I can refer to them at ease at a later date. I am excited at the prospect of being passionate about learning more about God's word. I don't believe I have been exposed to detailed expositions with such clarity before. I am, beyond reasonable doubt, elated to be in this place.

He walks past, and gives me a look - and in his gaze I saw it all. And why wouldn't he? Is it not easy to judge, to pass over another with utter disdain, to disregard flawed understanding and look down on another? It is, really, simply too easy. I read your eyes. "Obnoxious. Show-off." I close my eyes for a moment as you passed by, a little overwhelmed by the surge of emotions. It stings, but I let go, again.

He walks into the chapel, and sees me. He chooses to sit behind me. The silent rejection burns far more than I expected it to. I tell myself it would have been awkward anyway, and continue tapping away at the keyboard. My eyes begin to glaze over. I am weary.

He looks expectantly at me, and I happily adjust my chair slightly to ease his entrance into my row of chairs. He sits two chairs away. I didn't know who he was, but I was happy anyway to have someone near me. Minutes later, he leaves, sparing me the slightest of glances so that I would shift again for his exit. I shift my wandering eyes back onto the screen and glue them there. The tiny letters wave at me, welcoming, warm. Yet there is little consolation in one's own thoughts.

I open my eyes after worship, and I see his bag beside me, laying on the table. My heart skips a little beat. Perhaps Someone would sit beside me after all. The worship session ends and he moves forward only to take his bag away. He goes to the back to sit with some girls I do not know, and I cannot help but wonder why he placed his bag at the front in the first place.

The lesson begin, and I close my eyes for a moment.

And so I sit alone in the corner of the class, all the way at the front yet invisible to the eyes of many. 

I tell myself daily that this is your church, and this is your people that you love so dearly. That each of them are brilliant and wonderful and amazing in your eyes, and all your beloved children. So God, help me to love them too. Help me put aside my pride, my desire for attention, my craving for fellowship. Help me to reconcile with the emotions churning within my being. Help me to be full in your Spirit and Presence, and not live on the approval of Man.

Why, why does it burn so.