Noelle.

NINE.

Noelle.

"We pray for you everyday sweetheart. You're on the prayer list every Sunday, we've been praying for you to come home and just let us know that you're okay. That you're alive" My grandma sobbed into my shoulder, causing me to shed a few tears at her words.

Growing up, I spent the most time with my grandparents out of my siblings, I was always at church with them, always at their house, taking them places they needed to go when they needed it as I grew up. My bond with them has always been unbreakable, and if I'm honest, leaving them behind hurt worse than leaving my parents, siblings, and friends.

My first three months in San Francisco were the most depressing times of my life. I was alone, pregnant, and 12 hours away from anything and everything that I'd ever known. Honestly, leaving them hurt, but knowing that I was having a child out of wedlock and imagining the reaction of my grandparents was what was eating me alive the most when I left.

My grandparents were very traditional Christians. Not the Bible thumping type, but the type to abide by the laws of the great book, nothing more, nothing less. I cringed at the thought of them knowing that I was having sex before marriage, let alone having a baby with a man who I'd met two hours before sleeping with.

When I was alone, depressed, having pregnancy sickness out the ass, I was laying in my bedroom one night, staring up at my ceiling, a hand rubbing my growing belly, when I heard a voice, so soft, so gentle, speak the words in my ear as a whisper, "Romans eight eighteen." The voice remained still and calm but repetitive. "Romans eight eighteen."

Me, being oblivious to the voice that I was hearing, that came from the Holy Spirit himself, remained. Slightly irritated at the fact that I couldn't get the scripture out of my head, I googled it. I'd always been the type of girl who loved dwelling in the house of the Lord, whether I was in Children's Church, singing in the children's choir, or sitting next to my grandma, drawing while listening to the pastor preach and the congregation agree and shout 'Amen,' my grandma sneakily handing me candy every 10 minutes.

It was one of the few places where I found peace away from my home and what always felt like abandonment yet so much responsibility and scrutiny at such a young age. Shielding Ayva's ears from the drunk arguments of my parents, Keith dealing with so much anger and just wanting to be alone was no help to us at the time. It had gotten to the point where I'd made up a game where we'd turn the tv volume up to its maximum and see who could guess what the other was saying to each other correctly, kinda like the whisper challenge, just to keep Ayva from being able to hear our parents going at it.

"For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." (Romans 8:18, KJV) I whispered to myself, laying on my side, my phone close to my face as my heart swelled at the scripture. An overwhelming sense of compassion crippled me as I felt encamped in warmth and moved to tears. I sobbed to myself that night, remembering something that my Grandpa always told me, "He may never show up when you want Him to, but I promise you, He'll always be on time"

I never had my own relationship with God or knew Him for myself until after that night. Feeling His presence in my bedroom with me that night changed my life for the better in so many aspects. After eventually crying myself to sleep, I fell into a deep sleep that felt like it lasted for days.

The next morning, I felt an urge to pray when I woke up, just to talk to God as if He was standing next to me, and that's what I did. Ever since then, my life has completely changed. It's been over 4 years and I can't recall ever feeling depressed since then.