Angel Reese Walks Into a Church Alone—What Happens Next Is a Miracle
Angel Reese had always been a force—on the court, in the locker room, in every interview where she was asked to explain herself. She was used to noise: the roar of the crowd, the click of cameras, the endless scroll of opinions about her. But none of that prepared her for the quiet hollow that settled inside her after her team’s latest loss. It was a silence so deep it echoed, and for the first time in years, she didn’t know what to do with it.
She was on a long drive between cities, her schedule packed with appearances and commitments. Her phone buzzed with texts from teammates and friends, but she ignored them, staring out the window as the car wound through a sleepy town she couldn’t name. The sun was setting, painting the sky with streaks of gold and lavender. She saw the church almost by accident—a small stone building, its white steeple a little crooked, standing at the corner of an empty street.
“Can you stop here for a minute?” Angel asked her driver, surprising herself as much as him.
He pulled over, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “You sure?”
She just nodded, already opening the door. The crisp air bit at her skin as she stepped out, the world suddenly very still. Angel walked up the steps, her sneakers quiet on the old stone. She pushed open the heavy wooden door and slipped inside.
The church was empty except for the lingering scent of candles and the soft glow of colored light through stained glass. Angel hesitated, her confidence wavering. She was used to arenas, not sanctuaries. Still, she found herself drawn to the back pew, where she sat and let her hands rest loosely in her lap.
She didn’t know how to pray. She didn’t even know what she was looking for. All she knew was that she was tired—tired of being strong, tired of being “the one,” tired of the pressure to always rise above. For a while, she just sat there, listening to her own breath and the distant creak of the old building.
Then she noticed her. An elderly woman, small and bent, sitting three rows ahead. Angel hadn’t seen her come in. The woman turned, her eyes meeting Angel’s with a warmth that felt like a hug. Slowly, she stood and shuffled toward Angel, clutching a battered prayer book.
Without a word, the woman pressed the book into Angel’s hands. Her voice was soft but steady: “You’re never alone, child. You just forgot how to listen.”
Angel stared at her, unsure what to say. The woman just smiled, patted Angel’s hand, and quietly left the church, disappearing into the deepening dusk.
For a long moment, Angel sat frozen, the prayer book heavy in her hands. When she finally opened it, a folded piece of paper slipped out and fluttered to the pew beside her. She picked it up, unfolding it carefully. The handwriting was shaky but clear: “For the weary ones who forgot their wonder—may they find it again.”
Angel closed her eyes, letting the words settle inside her. For the first time in months, she let herself feel everything—the pressure, the loneliness, the longing for something she couldn’t name. She remembered her grandmother, who used to take her out on the porch at night and point to the stars. “Everything grand starts small, Angel. Wonder is what makes the world shine.”
A lump rose in her throat. She hadn’t thought about those nights in years.
As the last light faded from the windows, Angel stood and slipped the prayer book into her bag. She walked out into the cool night, feeling a little lighter, a little more real. The driver opened the door for her, but she shook her head. “Let’s take the long way,” she said softly.
They drove through the quiet streets, passing houses with sagging porches and kids playing under streetlights. Angel asked the driver to stop again, this time in front of a weathered house with a rusted fence. Her grandmother’s old place. She hadn’t been back since she left for college.
Angel walked up the path, her heart pounding. She sat on the porch steps, the prayer book in her lap, and looked up at the stars beginning to prick the sky. For a long time, she just breathed, letting the memories wash over her—the smell of her grandmother’s baking, the sound of laughter, the feel of a hand squeezing hers and telling her she could do anything.
She opened the prayer book again, reading the note one more time. “For the weary ones who forgot their wonder—may they find it again.” Angel let herself cry, quiet tears that felt like rain after a long drought.
When she finally stood, she felt something had shifted. She wasn’t fixed, not all at once, but she wasn’t hollow anymore. She was full—of memory, of gratitude, of a strange new hope.
The next morning, Angel found herself drawn to another church, this one in the city. She slipped into the back pew, unnoticed, and watched as people came and went, lighting candles and whispering prayers. When the priest offered her a candle, she took it, lighting it for her grandmother, for her teammates, for herself.
She didn’t pray for victory. She prayed for wonder—for the courage to see the world with new eyes, to play not for applause but for the love of the game, to live not for headlines but for the quiet moments that made life beautiful.
That afternoon, Angel visited a local school, speaking to a gym full of kids about basketball and dreams. But when a little girl asked her what mattered most, Angel didn’t talk about trophies or fame. She talked about wonder—about never letting the world make you hard, about remembering the stars, about the miracle of being alive.
Afterward, a shy boy handed her a crayon drawing: Angel, arms outstretched beneath a sky full of stars. Above her head, in crooked letters: “Never stop shining.”
Angel smiled, blinking back tears. She hugged the boy, tucking the drawing into her bag beside the prayer book.
That night, as she looked out at the city lights, Angel Reese felt a peace she hadn’t known in years. She knew the world would keep spinning, the games would keep coming, and the pressure would always be there. But now, she carried something more—a quiet flame of wonder, a reminder that even the strongest hearts need grace.
And in that stillness, Angel whispered her own prayer: “Thank you.”
Somewhere, beneath the wide and waiting sky, the stars seemed to shine just for her.
Angel Reese Announces Where She Stands Religiously
Chicago Sky star forward Angel Reese is celebrating Easter Sunday today.
Reese is not shy about expressing herself on social media. Whether it’s basketball-related matters or her political opinions, the second-year WNBA standout will tell you what she thinks and how she feels and let you worry about how you feel about it.
Reese has spoken about her Christian faith openly as well, dating back to her days at LSU. On Sunday, she issued a short message on social media indicating her devotion.
“He is Risen. Today like any other day is for you, Jesus Christ,” Reese wrote.
Like we said, this is far from the first time Reese has discussed her faith. While leading LSU to the national championship in 2023, she told reporters she had gotten into the habit of praying daily.
MEDLEY, FLORIDA – JANUARY 31: Angel Reese #5 of Rose reacts during the first quarter of the game against the Phantom at Wayfair Arena on January 31, 2025 in Medley, Florida. (Photo by Megan Briggs/Getty Images) Megan Briggs/Getty Images
“I pray before every game,” said Reese. “So that’s my time to get my prayer together by myself. I pray in the morning when I wake up. I pray — I read my devotional every morning, then I pray with Auntie Chanté on staff, then I pray by myself, and then I get one more going up before the game.
“This year has been something that I’ve been a lot closer to God, and I think that’s why I’m here right now in this position. A year ago — it’s crazy how my life changed in a year. I was back home by this time. So just being able to be in this moment, like (LSU teammate) Alexis (Morris) said, God did.”
Also, last month, Reese shared an interaction she had with a pastor while on a flight.
“Whew God be right on time,” Reese wrote on X/Twitter at the time. “Just sat next to a pastor on a flight and he prayed for me & with me! He said he felt some random back pain and thought the person next to him could be feeling some type of pain and he was right. Much needed.”
Happy Easter to all those who celebrate.
