I Once Was Lost, But Now I'm Waldo

by Amanda E.K.

It’s 1999. I’m twelve years old and sitting in the audience of a Christian Youth in Action retreat. The room smells like puberty and discount hairspray. The chair I’m sitting in is of the stacking variety—not a folding chair, but metal-framed with a cushioned bottom and back. The kind that makes you feel like you’re contributing something when you lift …