Say a Little Prayer: A Journey Through Faith and Identity
Jenna Voris has officially secured her spot on my must-read list with her latest release, Say a Little Prayer. After being utterly captivated by her previous book, Every Time You Hear That Song, I was eager to dive into this new tale. It’s not just Voris’s engaging storytelling that drew me in; it’s her ability to tackle complex themes with a sensitivity that resonates deeply, especially for those of us who have navigated the tumultuous waters of faith and identity.
At the heart of Say a Little Prayer is Riley, a teenager grappling with her sexuality within the rigid confines of her former Baptist church community. After her sister, Hannah, faced public humiliation at the hands of their charismatic yet oppressive Pastor Young, Riley’s world is turned upside down. The painful memories of Hannah’s rejection linger, compounded by Riley’s own coming out and the pastor’s damning sermons against homosexuality. This backdrop sets the stage for a rich exploration of hypocrisy, fear, and the quest for acceptance.
What struck me most about Riley was her relatability—she embodies both the bravery and the mistakes that are all part of teenage life. Her decision to confront Pastor Young’s teachings by writing an essay on the seven deadly sins is an act of rebellion infused with youthful naiveté. It’s a clever narrative device that showcases Voris’s sharp wit while navigating serious subjects. As Riley rejoins friends Ben and Julia—Pastor Young’s children—at a youth camp, we feel the weight of her conflicting loyalties and burgeoning feelings, particularly for Julia.
Voris’s writing is both smart and accessible. She manages to weave humor and poignancy seamlessly, keeping the narrative engaging without feeling overly preachy, despite its religious themes. It’s a tricky balance, but Voris pulls it off admirably. The pacing is brisk, making it a swift read while still allowing for moments of reflection that linger long after the pages are turned.
One memorable quote that resonated with me is when Riley muses, “Why does faith measure worth?” This poignant question encapsulates the dilemma faced by so many queer teens wrestling with their identities against the backdrop of dogma. Voris adeptly navigates this landscape, dismantling the notion that religious devotion must equate to a denouncement of love and self-acceptance.
I couldn’t help but cheer a little for Riley during her moments of courage, and my heart ached during the contemplative passages that poignantly captured the struggles of queer youth within religious frameworks. Though the ending offers little in terms of resolution, it feels refreshingly realistic—acknowledging that life and faith are not often black and white.
I wholeheartedly recommend Say a Little Prayer to anyone who appreciates young adult literature that tackles heavy themes with honesty and heart. It is particularly resonant for queer teens struggling with their identities, as well as allies seeking to understand the complexities of faith, acceptance, and choice. This book didn’t just entertain me; it made me reflect on my own beliefs and the transformative power of love in all its forms.
In a world that often feels divided, Voris’s narrative reminds us that understanding and compassion start with dialogue—and sometimes, a little prayer.