Monday, October 29, 2012

What do I know of Holy?

It's 9PM here and it's been a long day. I started out taking oldest and youngest shopping. Sweet Pea grabbed at a few things when I'd rather she keep her hands to herself but was otherwise very good (then took a nap). Munchkin too was outstandingly well behaved. I got so much done and am so so thankful that I had good little girls. Without them behaving, I would have done the "Okay. I'm done. Let's pay and go home. I'll go back out on my own to finish." Instead, I got almost everything I needed. I managed to go to Tedi, KiK, AllFrisch, the Post Office, and Netto. Despite being super productive, and having such good girls, I was exhausted when I got home. Munchkin took a shower, Kathrin got home, and I took my break to recharge. I sought His face. I knew it was the only way I would be okay enough for the afternoon shift to end up not being called "Evil Vickey". (Note to self: When you've already put the little one through a long morning and you know you're tired, don't expect her not to be. I did get called Evil Vickey despite my efforts.)

In the afternoon, we made Jack O Lanterns. I did most of the work for all three but the girls helped clean 'em out and chose their shapes. Well the older two did at least. Nuria took a nap. And then I made pumpkin seeds. </ramble>

During my time with G-d though, a song came on from Addison Road that really struck me. I've included the video below but the very first verse just hit me.

I made You promises a thousand times
I tried to hear from Heaven
But I talked the whole time
I think I made You too small
I never feared You at all No
If You touched my face would I know You?
Looked into my eyes could I behold You?

I hope that this song will touch you like it touched me. In other news, during my afternoon off tomorrow, I need to get some things done for the party (like baking) but I'm also planning to get a prayer journal organized. Once it's set up, I'll share my system here.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Tattoos (and Dinner) with Jesus

31 Cups of Tea with Jesus. Every day I'm supposed to be meeting with Jesus. And at first I did. But then, my faithfulness is a threat to Satan and his evil plans for this world. And he gave me plans with friends which shoved out my plans with Jesus. So I haven't been as faithful to this concept or as faithful to Him. I've talked to Him on my way to my plans and I've chatted a bit but I haven't opened my Bible physically in weeks. I haven't opened my Bible app in a while either. I've let myself get distracted with concerns about the differences in German and American dating and this morning my worry was over the Halloween party. I've started working on Christmas presents but have I started thinking about Advent or His birth? Except for the chocolate Advent calendars and which one I plan to buy myself.

I've written the equivalent of every day this month so far. But not all of them are about Him and not all of them are on an individual day or with a purpose beyond "here is my life". I've wondered if I should have called this 31 Days as an Au Pair and been able to just write about my life and the girls, the challenges I face, the things that make it worth it. A lot of people wrote about Jesus in this link-up. Maybe if I had written about being an au pair I'd have gotten more readers. Because you know that's totally my end goal. :sarcasm: (We totally need a sarcasm font online. Someone get on that.)

I've spent a lot of days lately kind of in a fog. I think it's a good chunk related to my depression setting back in. I have a really hard time concentrating and getting my mind on G-d. But I know that as soon as I do turn to Him and don't try to do it just on my own that I'll feel so much better. Tonight, I hopped in the shower and started talking to Him, thanking Him for the chance to Skype with my dad. Then I started talking tattoos with Jesus. Yup. Go ahead and search that phrase. See how many results you get. (Answer: 21,300 results as of 8:13PM CET on 10/28/2012) And when I had my dinner, I invited Jesus to join me. I pulled up a chair for Him and I started talking, not to the ceiling but to the chair. Or rather to Him in the chair. And as foreign and strange as it felt, as much as I laughed at myself, I feel like this is a good habit to get into sometimes. I need to remember that G-d isn't this far off distant diety. He's not sitting up in the clouds watching me. He's right here. He wants to sit and talk with me. He wants me to invite Him to come with me throughout my days.

There's a group of women on facebook that I've connected with through my online church. I've slowly started to get to know them and I'm working on organizing an accountability group for praying and for Bible reading. I need to do more than take two seconds to thank Him when something goes right.

P.S. On an au pair note? Normally Noemi asks "What are you making?" because that's the direct translation of "Was machst du?" Today she asked, for the first time, "What are you doing?" I love those lightbulb moments where something clicks.

Friday, October 26, 2012


It's Friday night and I'm spending it at home with my knitting, my cocoa, and my laptop. That might sound so horrible but I am so thankful for it. I think tonight, after a long hard week, I need to spend a bit of time counting my blessings.

  • A year in Germany including a month in the summer plus Christmas in Paris.
  • Netflix.
  • Sweet Pea wants to crawl into my lap constantly. It's adorable.
  • Munchkin admires me enough that she wishes she could draw like me. Despite my horrible drawing skills.
  • The purse I'm knitting for my stepsister is coming along very quickly
  • I got a care package today from my mom with a bunch of candy. :)
  • The cocoa that I bought at Rewe tastes almost like American. (Though I'd still love me some Swiss Miss.)
  • Having newly begun using Twitter, it's been wonderful to make a few friends and keep in touch with old ones.
  • My date yesterday went well for the most part. I just need to learn to shut the freak up sometimes.
  • My overarching philosophy of "If it's meant to be, it won't matter" is still intact.
  • I lucked out when I got this family. Kathrin is amazing in so many ways.
  • I get to Skype with my dear Emy this weekend AND my family.
  • My dad texted me today to follow up from a phone call from Wednesday night.
  • I have food, shelter, and clothing.
  • I have plans for a second date with the German.
Even if I am homesick and even if I did spend five minutes in Rewe crying because of Taylor Swift's stupid songs, there are a lot of things in my life that I am so thankful for and that I enjoy greatly. And even more things that I'm sure are along the lines of His blessings through raindrops.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Danger in dating

Well it's 10:30pm and I'm thinking about crawling into bed. Not quite ready to sleep but if I get in bed, with my PJs on and a cup of warm tea... I've spent the last couple hours in the kitchen. Knitting my stepsister's Christmas gift (yes seriously), watching Once Upon A Time, and chatting with Kathrin. I also got my Lunette ready for use in a few weeks. It's sad the things I get excited about. Yup, I am excited about using my Lunette for the first time. Sorry any men that happen to be reading that google that term.

Because I was getting my Lunette ready, I regaled Kathrin with some stories about puberty with a single father. It's strange to think that was half my lifetime ago. I've been chatting with Bernadette lately and I'm now almost as old as she was back when we met through JLand. If I live to be 88, this is the one quarter mark. Some people don't get that far. It's just strange to think of.

I went shopping during my break today and on my way back had another realization.

It's dangerous for me to be dating. 

When I date, it is very easy for me to let my head get wrapped up in when this plan will happen and when that will happen and to let my head get away from me. But we don't talk about that last part. I don't listen to logic and my anxiety channels itself into every possible bad scenario. I worry that he's waiting for me to suggest a day. I worry that if I do it'll be too pushy. I worry that he misinterpreted XYorZ and now thinks I don't like him/I'm a freak/I'm a stupid American. I worry about everything. And currently having two separate cultures just gives more fuel to the fire. I could seriously use a list of rules for how to handle this.

The only thing I'm figuring out is that if I seek Him, I stress less. If I seek Him, I hurt less. I worry less. I spend less time with my stomach in knots.

Do I know what's going to happen? No. Do I know where the balance between spending time with friends at bars and spending time at home with Christ is? Not a chance. All I know is that I need Jesus in my life and that if I trust in Him, the guy meant for me will understand that I stress out about little things, will reassure me that I'm not putting him off/freaky/stupid, and will actually suggest a day for when to have coffee. The guy meant for me is not about to be put off if I wait too long to text him or text him too soon. So if Benjamin is, then he's not right for me.

Monday, October 22, 2012


Alright. It was a great weekend but at the end of it, I'm honestly feeling so distant from Him...

I just didn't spend any time with Him this weekend and I've allowed myself to drift enough that I notice. It might just be a little but it's enough. And it's letting me sink into depression. Depression sucks.

So does anxiety.

I'm not sure I can spew everything out into a blog post. Not sure if it's the hour or the tired or the crap but this is rambling. Here's my point:

My depression gets worse when I distance myself from G-d. I do not believe that my mental illnesses are a result of my particular sin. I do believe that in a world before the fall depression and anxiety would not have existed but that I did nothing in particular to "deserve" this illness, aside from being born into this sinful world. But I do believe that there are things I can do to make the effects better or worse. One of the things that severely impacts my mood and how much my mental illness effects me is my relationship with G-d. If there's sin keeping me separated from Him, my depression hurts me. If there's any reason why I haven't sought His face lately, it hurts.

I was so busy this weekend that I didn't seek Him. And I'm paying for it today. And it's almost 11 pm, I'm exhausted, and I'm going to bed. I haven't sought Him today either. :(

Sunday, October 21, 2012


When I was about 10 or 11, I went to a make-up night with my mom. I think it was Mary Kay. The woman gave us the right shades for our skin and told us how to find them ourselves, gave us a bit of everything, and taught us how to apply everything. Do you think I remember much? Nope. But that's not the point. The point is that when it came time to do the concealer, I went to the ladies room. I kind of pretended that the concealer didn't exist. And it's not because I thought I was flawless. I've got these bags under my eyes that you wouldn't believe. They're definitely genetic (though sleep deprivation makes them worse like nobody's business). I refused to use the concealer though. I refused to admit I was flawed in front of these other women. To myself? No problem. I hate my nose. Not enough to get a nose job (though honestly I've considered it) but enough that when I remember how I truly look, it kinda bugs me. I've got problems with my thunder thighs and my pooch and I could go on. (I'm not looking for anyone to tell me "Oh you have such a cute nose!" Or to negate these thoughts. I know others don't think them about me. I still do.) Now I can admit that but back then? Using concealer under my eyes showed I had a flaw, pointed it out, and they would judge me. I didn't need to be judged. Never mind that *every* other woman in that room used it. I wasn't trying to pretend I was better than them. I just wasn't willing to be vulnerable.

Vulnerability is scary. It's opening yourself up to be hurt. It means letting others know where you're weak and trusting they won't take that kidney shot. When I let others know that I was broken over my sexual sins, that was being vulnerable. And I wasn't willing to do that with everyone. I chose who to share with based on who I knew wouldn't take that shot. I talked to Jess about whether or not I was pure, what being pure meant. I talked to Mary Beth about how much I was struggling with keeping boundaries again. I talked to Eric about how much I missed that intimacy. I knew these people would support me. Jess reassured me that I was pure, that I was determined not to sin in that way again and that I was made pure through that. Mary Beth told me I was strong enough to develop and maintain boundaries and was willing to help me with that (unfortunately, I wasn't yet ready to really be accountable for my actions). Eric understood how much not having that touch meant to me and helped me realize it was normal to feel that way.

Some people are afraid of being vulnerable with G-d. They fear His judgment, they're afraid they can never be forgiven for what they did, or they just don't know how to let the walls fall down. But we need to be vulnerable with Him to experience His healing, His love. We need to bear open our souls and realize that He can see them anyhow. When I come to Jesus, that mask that I love to put up needs to fall down. Because He sees me already. He already knows that I did not want to wipe the baby's nose for the millionth time today or that I'm basically broke already and the month's half over. (Where'd that money go? 40 to a new sweatshirt, 15 new blanket, 12 sheets, and some other expenses. Most of which I probably didn't need. Thankfully, my wonderful host mom was willing to prepay me for next month for which I feel awful.)

It can sometimes feel completely redundant to tell G-d about these things. He already knows. But He wants to hear it from you. He wants you to come to Him and tell Him about your day. I think it's sort of like a parent who got a phone call from the teacher and already knows how their child's day went but they want to hear it from her anyhow. G-d just doesn't need a phone call from someone else. He was right there with you all day. There is nothing we can hide from Him. When Adam and Eve hid in the garden, it was pointless. G-d knew where they were. And when He asked, "Where are you? Why did you hide?", it wasn't because He didn't know. It's because He wanted His children to come to Him and be honest, be transparent, be vulnerable.

Have you been vulnerable lately? How did that go?

Friday, October 19, 2012

A Positive Real World Experience with Men

Yesterday, I went out after work to hang out with some people and have a drink. Since I spent my day with the baby, my break writing in my journal (actually talking to G-d instead of so much writing about Him), and after work I made tacos followed by heading out, there's no post for yesterday. I might do two later on to make up for it

Regardless though, I had a very nice night. This very single girl doesn't go out very much. And if my plans with Carlotta hasn't fallen through time after time until she suggested I go to the CS meeting, I wouldn't have gone out last night either. I'm so glad I did.

Honestly I started the day half dreading it. But that was my anxiety rearing her ugly head. Telling me it'll be awkward and I shouldn't go. I claimed victory over it through and ended up having a a lot of fun. I had a drink, I talked to a few different people, and at the end of the night I left with a huge smile on my face and a new number in my phone.

So today with my mind still on the fact of just how good it felt to feel attractive and wanted, I'm also trying to balance the giddy feeling with the practical side of things. The I don't even know if he's a Christian side of things. Because that is so important to me. But when he asked what kind of music I listen to and I said mostly Christian and country he didn't seem put off by that. I learned the hard way though that "not put off" and "open minded" aren't enough. I need a man who seeks G-d and will encourage me too. I'm not at all claiming that this guy I met last night in Trash is going to turn into anything. I had fun and I got to feel attractive. Even better? I barely had makeup on, had just thrown my hair up, and still had on the shirt I spent all day in. To feel attractive in that is a plus.

AND it wasn't at all creepy! Not at all like with the Greek guy. Or, G-d help him, the columbian creeper.

I'm choosing to label this as one of my 31 days because it does reflect on my journey with Christ. I've come a long way in the past few years. :)

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Glorifying G-d

Today's previously scheduled post on vulnerability has been rescheduled for later in the week. To paraphrase myself from last semester, blame G-d.

This morning while the baby took her (long) nap, I pulled out my journal to get some time with G-d. I've been writing about Him and singing about Him and to Him. I've been listening to sermons and I've been reading books about Him. I've even been reading the Bible. But I haven't spent much time WITH Him. It's like if you spent a few weeks telling everyone about your boyfriend, checking out his facebook page, asking his friends about him, and telling other people how you want to grow in your relationship... But you're not doing much to grow it. When you spend time reading the letters or emails he sends you, your brain is only half there. If you knew someone who was doing this, wouldn't you tell them they're missing something?

Well I was missing something. I pray best when I'm either on a walk by myself in nature, in the shower, or writing. Pen to paper writing. It doesn't work when there's a computer funneling the words through. It's like trying to rinse the dishes when someone else is washing their hands. It's probably possible but it doesn't work as well and I don't like to do it. I'd rather wait. So this morning when I realized I hadn't really prayed in a while, not really truly heart to heart prayers, I pulled out my journal and let it pour out of my pen. And then I thought I was done so I sat down in one of the armchairs and pulled out Minerva so I could read some more of The Christian Atheist. I got a few paragraphs in before I just had to talk to Him. So I started praying. Pouring it out. And one of the things I encountered as I just talked to my Father, my King, was the idea of bringing Him glory.

I really didn't get it before today. And right this moment I do. I think. Enough at least. So I'm going to record what G-d's revealed to me so I'll remember and so maybe it will help someone else who is reading this.

I pray that what I do would bring Him glory but I don't know what that means. My lightbulb moment today is that bringing glory to G-d is like how they tell you in school "your behavior on this field trip reflects on your school so behave yourselves". It's like how when the girls speak English so much and so well considering their ages and the amount of time they've been learning it. People ask them, if they don't know, "How do you speak such good English? Did you learn all that at school?" And the answer is me. They speak English because I'm here. Because I speak it to them. Because they're little sponges. It's not that I'm doing exercises with them or anything but my speaking with them, the language activities we do, the way I clarify to them, it reflects on me. I'm not saying it brings me glory but it's a good reference, a good indicator of what I can do, who I am.

That's what it is when my life points others to Him. When I handled my break-up last year as I did, it was not me. It was Him. Completely Him. Well maybe not the cookie dough part. :) The fact that we're 11 months out and I'm over Ron, I'm ready to move on (when G-d sees fit to lead the right man into my life), that's Him. The fact that I didn't scream and cry, that I didn't hold on tightly until the last possible moment, that was Him. Last Christmas, yes, I was broken hearted. My first love and I ended our relationship. The man I thought I was going to marry basically left me. Yes, I was the one to call it off when I did but he was already gone. At the time, I viewed that as a marriage. My marriage was over. I hurt. I cried. I had a few drinks. And in the aftermath I made a few mistakes. But I drew closer to my family. I clung to those who were there for me. And they were there for me in the exact way I needed them to be.

That was Him. Without my Father to take care of me, I would have been a wreck. People asked me how I was handling it so well. People told me that my strength and the way I coped with it was a testament to G-d. And it truly was Him that got me through. I couldn't have done it alone. The strength He gave me, the moments He held me in His arms as I cried, the nights that I long to be sleeping in the arms of the man I love and I know that I am not alone, that is my L-rd. My father. My King. And He will always be there for me. When I go through a valley and I don't sit down and ground myself there, when I keep moving, that's because of Him. And that is what I will tell people. That is what I will say. When people learn I'm going off my anti-depressants for the first winter since 2006, they're going to think I'm crazy. But I will tell them I can do it through Christ who strengthens me. I will give Him the credit where it is due and I will not let anyone think I can do anything on my own. I can do it only through my amazing Saviour.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Inferiority Complex and G-d

I have ten minutes to write a post before I get interrupted by needing to shower. Why do I have only ten minutes? Why can't I push the shower back or hop in now? Because I'm dying my hair. Again.

In case you haven't been taking notes...

When I left for Germany, this was my hair:

Then on August 8th, I had red hair.

 And last month, after I got a trim, I added black tips resulting in this:

And yesterday I picked up "Tiramisu brown" hair dye at DM. And currently one of the two bottles is sitting on my head. The other will be saved. Along with the other bottle of red dye that I could have used and saved myself the 7 Euros. Oh well.

Why do I do this? I'm 22. I don't have grey hair yet (and yes I realize the two are not mutually exclusive). I claim it's because it's fun. Because "I need a change". Because I'd just rather have rich brown hair instead of funky red. Well if my hair were still red maybe I wouldn't mind but it's faded. But ya know what? That's only partially true.

I dye my hair because I think I'm boring. I don't think I'm memorable. I feel sometimes like people don't listen to my stories and that they'd really rather I just shut up. If I dye my hair, then someone is bound to notice me. And then my hair isn't boring normal average brown. (Yes, I did just dye my hair brown. But it's a deep dark rich brown. It's espresso brown. Tiramisu brown. Not mouse brown.)

I remember one summer when I was at Circle C to pick a friend up or drop my cousin off I ran into Coop. Mike Cooper was one of the most amazing guys I have ever met. He was a counselor there every summer for years. He was so high spirited, so passionate, so loud! He used to literally swing from the rafters. Even at 7am. He was one of the highlights of my weeks there. Unfortunately, I didn't get much time to talk to him. At Circle C though you are allowed to talk to the guys, there aren't many chances. And with the counselors they kind of "have" to hang out with their campers. I obviously wasn't one of Coop's. So we'd met and I'd seen him around but I never expected him to remember me. And when I ran into him I said something along those lines. "Hey Coop! I don't know if you remember me. I was here last summer for Kingdom Bound week." And he did. He remembered me. "Of course I remember you. You're friends with Lindsay. How are you?" His enthusiasm and the way he said of course have still stuck with me. Coop is now in Heaven and I won't get a chance to talk with him again until my time here on Earth is done. But sometime in the millennia that we'll have to worship G-d and to share our stories with one another, I'm going to find that man and I'm going to get to tell him that one moment that was so commonplace meant so much to me.

So I have this complex that I think I'm rather average and I don't think much stands out about me. I'm not gorgeous. A lot of people don't understand my sense of humor. I don't think I'm one of those people that strikes others with "She's awesome. I want to get to know her". And I'd love to be one of those people. (Mind you I don't know if those people who do that to me do that to others.) My point today is that even though I have this inferiority complex, I have a G-d that notices me. Regardless of what color my hair is. In fact, He'd probably prefer if I stopped dying it and just enjoyed His creation. But I seem to think I know better, that I can improve on His design. Yeah. Right. I have a G-d that thinks I'm that awesome person who He wants to get to know. Okay my G-d already knows me. Inside and out. Completely. 100% There is nothing I can hide from Him (come back tomorrow for a post on vulnerability by the way). He cares so much about me that He would love if I take delight in Him, He will give me the desires of my heart (Psalm 37:4).

Father, I want to delight in You. And not so that I'll get what I want but because I want to want You. I want to seek You. I want faith. I want You. Give me an all-consuming passion for You, Father.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Lost in Him

That night we attended a Bible study that Amy led for high-school girls. She was amazing, and all of the love cliches I had heard about over the years happened to me. When she prayed for "her girls," heaven seemed to open. When she sang songs of worship, time stood still. Every time she looked in my direction, I simultaneously praised G[-]d and melted. She was funny, loyal, and sincere. Not to mention, on a scale of one to ten, she was a 498 million. (Still is.) I remember thinking, G[-]d, you are good. Nice work.
[... O]ur marriage is now officially old enough to move out and go to college. During all those years, I've come to know Amy better than I know any other person in the world. If there are forty women in a room all talking at once, I can pick out her voice. If I walk into a crowded lobby, with people all crushed together, my eyes find hers instantly. I know her scent, and a single whiff of it will make me think about her for the rest of the day. I know her favorite color, her favorite song, her favorite meal, which of my shirts she likes best. 
--Craig Groeschel, The Christian Atheist
The book I just quoted isn't about romance. It's not about earthly relationships. It's about living life like you are a Christian rather than like 99% of people do. It's about the impact that believing in Jesus Christ as Saviour has, or should have, on our lives. But then there's me. I read the two paragraphs above and I start crying. Because I want that. I want someone to be able to say those things about me. I don't want to have to start over again with a relationship, to learn what he likes, to teach him what I like. I want the intimacy again. I was already here. I've already done this. And I'm not looking forward to doing it again. It should be exciting, it should be fun. But it just sounds tedious. Now mind you I've begun that process again with someone else and it wasn't tedious. It wasn't awful or boring. It's butterflies and that delicious anticipation and all the fantastic, brilliant bits of having a crush and maybe it'll be more and not knowing where the boundaries are and figuring out the little things (because it's always the little things) that make this man different than that guy was. (And yes I did specifically call one a man and one a guy for a reason. Because calling the second a boy makes me sound like a pedophile.)

This is my prayer. That G-d would let me get lost in Him. That until it's time for me to find my husband that I would be so lost in His arms, in getting to know Him, that I'd hardly notice that I'm single. I want to yearn for my King. I want to know Him. I want my life to be a city on a hill, a voice crying out in the darkness that there is hope. I want to miss Him like I missed Ron when we didn't talk for a few days, or even a few hours sometimes. I want to cherish the Word like I cherished those few love letters. I want to cling to every promise, every moment that He has said I am loved. I am cherished. I was knit together with care. I want the words He speaks about me to mean as much as those compliments that stick in my head do. Because when Christ says that He died for me, that should be the biggest compliment. That should be what means the most to me.

Why do I lose sight of what's important? Why doesn't the Word of Christ entice me as much as the memory of "baby you're beautiful beyond words"? Why doesn't knowing that I am so important to Him that He knows the number of hairs on my head? And consider that for a moment. Consider how many times a day, an hour a hair falls out. And how many new hairs grow. And yet at any given moment if called to account for the number of hairs on my head, Christ could tell you. And not just me but every single person on this planet. That is how important we all are to Him. He has so many other things He has to concern Himself with but He cares so much about us that He knows our every breath, our every thought.

The next couple of pictures (all taken from my pinterest board Living for Him) are meant to remind me about why I'm single and why that's not a bad thing.

And, G-d, as I'm growing close to You, I pray this might be true. Because You know that last time I wasn't the woman he needed and I praise You for saving me from a relationship in which I was not ready to be a wife.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

My new church is... online?

"Fear of man will be a snare. G-d will lead you to do something that others may find weird. [...] What are people going to think?"
I just opened up this page to write and the sermon I'm listening to said that. Thank you, Craig Groeschel.

While I was at church this morning (I'm still not sure how I feel about saying that... Am I "at church" or am I "watching church"?), I was laughing. I love this church. Being able to enjoy myself and to worship G-d AND to still have moments when I get a 2x4 slapped upside my head is so rare, so cool. I typed into the chat box that since I'm sitting across from my host dad laughing with my headphones in he probably thinks I'm insane. And one of the volunteers that "works" the chat suggested I invite him along.

And the excuses started.

But there's a language barrier. Yes, he speaks English but will he understand the southern accent? Is it too fast?

But this is an American service. Will the references/jokes go over his head? Are they too culturally based?

But his father is Jewish. Would I insult him?

But he's working. I shouldn't interrupt him.

And on. And on. And on. But do you know what? It all comes down to this: I was afraid. I don't share Christ like that mostly. To invite someone to pray with me or read the Bible with me or watch a sermon with me isn't my style. Is that just a difference in technique, if you will? Or is that me being afraid of sharing, of ministering? Is that an acceptable "I just share in other ways" difference or is that a "I'm kind of an immature lukewarm Christian" difference? I don't want to be lukewarm or immature.
I know your deeds that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm-neither hot nor cold-I am about to spit you out of my mouth. Revelation 3:15-16
I want to be embraced by Christ and not spit out and dashed aside!  I don't want to hesitate to share my faith. But...

How do I juggle that line between sharing my faith and forcing it down someone's throat? Between being open and transparent and being pushy? I don't want to hide my light under a basket. I want to be a city on a hill. But how do I do that in a way that doesn't alienate people?

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Writing, Compliments, and Jesus

I've always been a writer. Songs. Poems. Stories. Plays even. In my high school, senior year you choose two half year electives to make up your last English credit. One had to be reading based and one writing based. My choices were made freshman year. Shakespeare and Creative Writing. I think creative writing was one of my favorite courses that I enjoyed mainly for the material. Other courses I may have enjoyed the material (like German) but I stuck with it/didn't dread it for the teacher. And in college I took fiction. Short stories. I adored it. But on my own I never finish a story. I love writing but my subject of choice tends to be my life.

I've been journaling since I was about 8 years old. In my Spice Girls diary. With a lock. As I've grown older, my secrets have grown more and more personal, more intense, more intimate. More likely to get me locked up to be honest. My journals have grown with me but somewhere along the way, I dropped the lock.

My handwritten journals went from needing a key to being picked up from the dollar store. Still pretty but cheap. Then I picked up a spiral notebook. I dropped the pretty. In part because I could write in class and my teachers didn't know the difference. They thought I was very studious, taking notes. I also started blogging around this time. I don't know what started me on that path but in JLand I found some amazing friends.

I was transparent with them when I couldn't be with the people I saw every day. That added layer of privacy built in with spilling my guts out to a page lets me be more vulnerable. I traded the privacy of a lock for the guard of not seeing my audience face-to-face. I've still never met those people (though when I make it down to the south, I do hope that I can swing in on one of the women I've stayed in touch with for an afternoon). The fact is I was able to spill my guts out in my blog and get the support that I needed. I turned to Madman, Bernadette, Sara, and others because I couldn't turn to Jack, Sayiiiiiiid, and Russo. I loved those girls but it's hard enough to talk about your emotional chaos when you're 14 but to bring it up over tater tots? When those 40 minutes are our one break for the day to goof off and play pringle hockey or "Make Sawyer spit out her drink"? I couldn't do that to them and make lunch a pity party.

This journal that I'm currently writing in is probably my third serious one. (AOL, LJ, and here along with dozens of others scattered that I never got into regularly)

Now this might seem like a tangent but I promise you it'll come back together in a moment.

Compliments. We all know they make our day just a little bit better and we love getting them. But I don't remember the "Oh what a cute shirt!" or the "Love the new haircut". Those boost my self-esteem for a moment, maybe a day or two, but there are a few that have stuck with me over the years.

1.) "You look like you could be a painting. The way you're looking out the window, that almost sad look in your eye." -Russo, freshman year
2.) "You look like a rock star in those purple sunglasses." -Bailey, freshman or sophomore year outside PHots
3.) In response to a text saying that I was a published author, "I just have to say that is so damn sexy." -Ron, senior year
4.) Okay so there are a few about my body that I do remember but those are private. As are who said them.
5.) You are a great writer, Victoria. Have you ever considered writing a book? Loved your post!" -Becky last month

And that, my dears, is where the strands of this post combine and where they add another: Jesus. This month is about having tea with Jesus after all. (Speaking of which this girl is a bit chilly. Going to grab a cup of delicious cherry marzipan tea before I continue.) Now that I'm warm...

Lately, at least three people have told me that I'd make a great writer, that maybe I should pursue it. Given that this is one of those few things I've kept consistent with in my life, I'm guessing it's going to continue being a part of my life for the next 20 years or more. (Yet, the thought of a vlog sends me running for the hills.) I said in my "I believe" post that I believe G-d will reveal His calling in my life in His time. I'm not saying that I know yet what my life looks like. But writing is a part of it. And if I reach even one person through my writings, then that's one person I've reached.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Lucky 7 and me

Lucky 7. With Patrick Dempsey and Kimberly Williams.

Why does this movie resonate with me so strongly?

First: A plot synopsis: Amy, the main character, lives according to a time line her dying mother left when she was 7. When she thinks she's found Mr. Right at number 6 but the timeline says to marry number 7, she tries to "insert" her local bagel shop manager as the new number six. Bagel man is played by Patrick Dempsey, character is Pete Connor. "Mr. Right" is Daniel.

Kimberly Williams (now Williams-Paisley, yes that's right she married Brad Paisley) is beautiful is such a down to earth way. Just look at her:
Her style in this movie is just so wonderful. She cleans up beautifully. Dresses that are short enough to show off her body but long enough to leave some mystery. But on a normal day? Amy wears jeans and when she spills syrup on her shirt she steals Peter's. And when she puts it on, it fits. Not the same way it fits him, obviously, but in that casual sexy way that a woman ought to look in my mind when she has on her boyfriend's shirt.

The way I hope I look. Instead of the way I actually look:
(Taken by a friend in London, 2009)

(Note: All following photos, unless otherwise noted, are screenshots from Lucky 7.)
She's totally type A. She makes lists just to cross them off. She tries to find the best in everything. Her ex boyfriend is a blessing in disguise because now she knows that she doesn't want a guy who cheats on her and now she can move on. Know anybody else that can rationalize the hell out of a broken relationship?

She loves bagels. Onion bagel with a schmear and a decaf coffee. That's her breakfast. Served by the super adorable Peter.

She knows exactly how many minutes late the other person is. (I tend to know exactly how many minutes late I am instead.)

She melts over chocolate covered strawberries. I've had conversations with Mary Beth over what fruit our future husbands will be. Mine will be a strawberry. And I've had other conversations about chocolate and there's a whole chocolate scale relating to the bedroom and chocolate covered strawberries ARE on that list...)

She beats herself up when she thinks she said something dumb. (My guilt complex is out of this world.)

She enjoys cooking. She's kind of completely perfectionistic and control freak though. She even labels ingredients. (Her father then uses those labels against her.)

Sex is not a taboo subject...
But she does it with an air of innocence that doesn't seem affected.

And it's not a taboo action either. When she chooses to have sex, she doesn't let society tell her it's okay or not. She is in control of her own body.
 And with passion.

She believes that your hands will just fit with the one. (That's why she looks so confused here.)

There are a lot of little ways I noticed tonight that Amy and I are similar. I just hope I never get stuck in a job I hate as long as she did.

You'll have to watch the movie to see how it ends up. (Hint: Romantic comedy.)

I believe...

I believe in laughing so hard you squeak.

I believe in cuddles with little ones that crawl into my lap. Even if I'm trying to write.

I believe in romance.

I believe in the Doctor.

I believe in heart to hearts with best friends.

I believe in long hot showers with rose scented body oil.

I believe in sleeping in.
Even when that means you get 24 hours of sleep in 36 hours to cure a cold.
Like last weekend.

I believe in coffee.

I believe that family comes first but family doesn't always mean blood.

I believe that Jesus Christ died to save me from my sins and that through His sacrifice I am made pure again.

I believe in autumn and the wonderful colors it provides.
(My own photo from October 8, 2012 in Osnabrueck, DE)

I believe in the way the cold air in my lungs during the middle of winter makes me feel alive.
(Copyright Julia Weber)

I believe in red high heels.

I believe in taking risks.

I believe that no one should be stopped from marrying the person they love. Assuming the other person consents. :)

I believe the rich should donate more to the poor.

I believe college shouldn't cost so much.

I believe that one day my prince will come and he will be more amazing that Wesley, Rory Pond, and Noah Calhoun combined.
(First three photos from, Fourth wikipedia)

I believe all love stories are amazing. But mine will be my favorite.

I believe you can be great friends with someone you've never seen a picture of.

I believe tattoos are can be art.

I believe in tearjerkers.

I believe the book is almost always better than the movie. (Exception pictured below)

I believe in dressing up. Just because.

I believe that curling up in a comfortable armchair with a good book, a cup of tea, and Fuzz will be one of my favorite ways to pass an afternoon for years and years to come.

I believe in being classy.

I believe in baths. And wine. Sweet white wine.

I believe in Pandora. And Netflix.

I believe in singing. Or did I already say that?

I believe most problems in life can be solved with salt water: tears, sweat, or ocean.

I believe in traveling.

I believe I grew up the most in Europe and in Houghton.
(Photos belong to myself, my roommate, and my mother)

I believe home is where the heart is.

I believe in Shel Silverstein.

I believe in sleeping with my iPod/cell phone next to my bed. Radiation be damned.
(My own photo, Osna, DE 10/8/2012)

I believe that sometimes you have to risk being called a bitch in order to stand up for what needs to happen.

I believe in being weird.
(Personal photo)

I believe in dying my hair any color of the rainbow that I choose.

I believe in snogging. And love bites. And a whole lot of other things...

I believe that G-d will reveal my calling to me. Eventually.

I believe my mistakes have made me who I am today.

I believe everything will be worked out for His good.

I believe in compliments.

I believe in jeans and heels.

black and red

I believe I will never truly enjoy running.

I believe in creativity.

I believe in strawberries and chocolate.

I believe in bocce balls (Ameretto and OJ).

I believe in quotes.

I believe in sunsets. 
(Personal photo)

I believe in London. And Rome. And Paris.

I believe I have the soul of an artist.

I believe in beaches.
(Personal photo)

I believe I'm never more at home than when I'm in water.

I believe in dancing. Even if I'm not very good at it.

I believe I can be bisexual and Christian too.
(By the way, yesterday was national coming out day in America.)

I believe in Halloween.

I believe self-control must be cultivated. It does not come naturally.

I believe in prayer.

I believe I will always be a brunette no matter what color I dye my hair.

I believe that Barbies and Disney movies made my childhood awesome.

I believe in boundaries.

I believe this is way way longer than I ever intended and that the pictures aren't properly spaced out but that I love it anyhow.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Romans 9 Questioning

This morning, I sent the following e-mail to my roommate.

It's nearly 11:30 in the morning and since Nuria is completely asleep I turned to Romans to do some reading on my iPod. I'm up to chapter 9. I read some of the verses in probably three different translations and I'm still having a hard time. So my dear Bible minor, can you help me? The verses about Jacob and Esau just seem to make G-d sound like... Well like He's up there arbitrarily deciding that He's going to bless and love this son but not the other. How can G-d chose to hate Esau anyhow when "for G-d so loved the world"? I know that it's only because of His mercy and grace that we can be saved but I just don't get this... Something about it is do confusing and so sad to me. Do you have anything that can help unconfuse me?

It's now 9:20pm and I'm no closer to an answer. And given just how long of a day it was, I'm not sure I can handle spending longer thinking about this. So I don't know how to deal with these verses. I don't know how to reconcile the G-d of these verses with the G-d I'm familiar with. I do know that regardless of what these verses say that 

  • G-d is merciful.
    • But G-d demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8
  • G-d is loving.
    • For G-d so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him would not perish but would have everlasting life. John 3:16
There are many other things that G-d is but those are the two that I can see these verses bringing up doubts about. I don't doubt my L-rd. I only cannot understand what these verses say.

Food in the Madwoman's Family

I've realized over the past bit that I'm very food oriented. When I'm in a new place, I spend a long time in grocery stores just looking at what there is and trying to decipher it assuming that it's not in English. I fondly remember walking around Sainsbury's and Tesco's trying to find what I'm looking for, trying to see what the other options for the type of thing is. I could spend a good fifteen minutes looking at the different kinds of cookies on the shelves at Sainsbury's trying to decide between types and brands.

Here in Osnabrueck, there are three different grocery stores I peek in on a regular basis plus two drugstores. Not to mention the two discount stores (similar to the Dollar Store and Dollar General) and the clothing shop. My point, though, is the grocery stores. Almost every day I go to either Netto and/or AllFrisch. If I leave the house, I'm probably going to end up in there at one point or another. If I go into Netto, I will 100% buy SOMETHING because you can't get out without going through the cash registers and it's rubbish to go through without buying something. Total hassle.

So my point is I'm so food oriented that it's almost funny. The fact that I weigh less than 50 kg is probably rather a miracle. I was blessed with some damn good genetics. My dad and I talked the other day for a few minutes via text messaging. The entire conversation? Food. How often I cook. If I like what they cook. If they like what I cook. Why I don't use canned pumpkin. Wegmans. (Oh Wegmans... How I miss you... If I end up thrilled at a trip there after a few weeks at school, just imagine next June...)

My traditions that are important revolve around food. Birthday dinners. Shrimp on Christmas Eve. The fact that I make the pancakes not Dad. (Mine are always better.) Cherry cheesecake. Jello cake. The list could go on and on. Food is such a big part of events. When I get homesick and ask for a care package, the things I ask for, without fail, are food. American food was all I asked for in London. Yeah, some of it I can get in Europe. (I think M&Ms are universal.)

But its the way my family gathers and shows love. Yes, my dad will hug me. Yes, we say I love you. But mostly we do food. Dad cooks for us. Gramma asks if I want to stop at Tim Hortons. Maybe that's why I have no problem stopping at Netto and letting the girls pick out yogurt with crunchies. Food is a way we show that we care. Like Eric's gramma thinks, "If you're standing you must want to sit. If you're sitting you must want to eat."

Wednesday, October 10, 2012


(Photo and editing my own)

This is the newest verse that I have half memorized. Because I do most things halfway it seems. But that's another post, another discussion, another night. It's a good verse. One that should help us to get through even the worst job with a smile, right? I love my job. I love these girls and I love the opportunities I'm being blessed with daily just by the fact that my address (despite being a very long five lines) ends in "Deutschland". I certainly have moments that this country is not on my happy list but that's mostly a discrepancy between my expectations being from the land of Wegmans and being in the old-fashioned village that it feels like I live in now. (Except that this town has a larger population than my hometown. Yet it feels so much smaller.)

But this isn't about my job. This has nothing to do with the kids. It has to do with other parts of my life. The last week or so I've started resenting things that before I *got* to do. I got to bless the hungry men and women I pass by buying them a croissant or a cup of coffee. Now I feel like I have to and isn't it such a hassle? I don't have the food with me and I can't buy it at the first bakery I see because I don't know how many men and women I'll pass on Grosse Strasse (Big Street for you non-German speakers). I have to see them, pass them, buy the food from the money I keep separate, then turn around (often with the baby in tow-in the stroller) to give it to them. And because for some reason I can't keep straight whether to use "du" or "Sie" to save my life, I stumble my way through "Here's a sandwich for you. Enjoy." and when they say something like "Have a great day" I don't know how to say "You too". Awk-ward. >< So I'm starting to resent doing this thing that I get to do.

As I was resenting the time it takes and the hassle of figuring out what to buy and wondering if they have any dietary restrictions/preferences (because even the homeless can prefer mustard to ketchup), I prayed for G-d to please remind me that when I feed the hungry, I feed Him. When I clothe the naked, I clothe Him. That what I do unto others, it's as if I'm doing it unto Him. And yet, I still don't want to do it. How's that for selfish? And it's got nothing to do with the money aspect. The money I'm using is set aside. It's not mine. It's meant for this purpose. So because Satan can't get to me about whether or not I "have enough" to be doing this, he's trying to bother me on another front I guess. I guess there's always going to be a way that Satan chooses to attack. This time, he's trying to make me so frustrated that I give up or trying to turn me from the cheerful giver, the woman radiating the love of Christ to these people in a tangible way that I want to be, into someone whose resentment radiates off of her and poisons the chance that Christ is giving me.

But as I said recently to another woman in my lifegroup, "Satan no longer has an power over us. He's like that child beating against the floor desperate for attention, knowing he won't get his way." My G-d has overcome and has already won this victory. I will not let Satan corrupt the work that my L-rd is trying to do. I will be the hands and feet of Christ as best I can in whatever way He shows me.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

What gets you up?

Once upon a time, there was a girl who obsessed over planning her future. First, she plotted her college essays and applied for scholarships and micro-managed every detail that she could. Then, she got engaged and spent three years planning her wedding. Over and over and over again. She could spend hours coming up with ideas and details and at times neglected her other responsibilities, her friendships, her schoolwork in order to plan this one day in her future. And then that day didn't happen. She moved on, she clung to G-d, and she made some bad choices. (That's always what she called them. Bad choices. Not sins. Because who wants to say "I sinned yesterday" when they could say "I made a bad choice"?) And then, soon enough, something else came up for her to micro-manage: a job that involved lots of red tape and paperwork. And that job let her come up with plans upon plans upon plans. The Middle...

This girl's story doesn't have an ending yet. But what it does have is a revelation that's been building upon itself for years.

If I spend so much time planning for the things of this life, for one day, one afternoon, how much more should I be planning for eternity? If I could count up just how many hours and days I wasted planning that wedding, I would be astonished. For me to go more than a few hours at one point without mentioning it was amazing. (This also led to a neighbor one night informing me that for every time I mentioned that damn wedding I was going to take a shot. I ended up taking two and biting my lip plenty more times to avoid having to take another.)

Last week, my goal was to wake up at 8am every day. I did it for three days. Do you know what got me up that first morning though? Okay my alarm but what kept me awake? A perfectly timed SMS (Okay I've been in Germany too long. They're called texts, Victoria!). That text was from a friend I love talking to. I stayed awake because I wanted so much to talk to them.

A text message from 4000 miles away will give me incentive to wake up but spending time with the Ruler of the Universe isn't enough? What kind of whacked out priorities is that?

I love getting mail from home. Letters, packages, etc. I dream about the day that I'll get love letters from my husband (who will write them occasionally even if he claims he's not good at it because he knows how important they are to me, how much I cherish them just like I'll watch sports with him even though I have no idea what's going on because it's important to him). But the idea of a 2000 year old love letter from the King of Kings doesn't excite me?

I can spend hours talking to my friends and family. I long to just hang out with my dearest friends and just be near them but I have no desire to meditate on His word or to just walk around in His creation to commune with Him?

I came across the following graphic Sunday night as I was trying to read blogs and it struck me. It's a quote from St. Augustine and this is what I'll leave you with today.

Monday, October 8, 2012

My Personal Doctrine Part Two

First up on the hit parade today:
I believe alcohol is suitable to drink but that one ought not to get drunk. Drunkenness is a sin but even Christ drank wine. If anything hinders your relationship with Christ, better to completely eliminate it than to risk stumbling. 

I don't believe that women should be pastors. I believe that women are meant to be submissive to their men and if a woman is the head of the church, what sort of an example is that setting? I believe that women can lead other women, can lead bible studies, can lead children's groups and ministries but I believe the leader of the church, just as the leader of the family, ought to be the man. That said, I do believe that the man ought to take care of his woman, ought to be willing to understand and to listen. Yes, he is the leader but that doesn't mean he should take his wife for granted. In Scripture we're told that husbands ought to love their wives and wives are to submit to and respect their husbands (Ephesians 5:22-33).

I also believe women ought to cover their heads when they pray or prophecy (1 Corinthians 11). In theory, this means that women should always have their heads covered because they should always be praying (1 Thessalonians 5:17). In reality? Well my head isn't always covered but when I open my Bible, I cover my head. When I seek His face intentionally, I cover my head. This is not a salvation issue though.

Speaking of issues that are dear to me but NOT salvation issues, I do still believe kosher eating is applicable.  But then I did just write about that last week.

As a bisexual Christian, I find it difficult at times to be understood. As a bisexual Christian who has had sex before, I've gone through a time of feeling judged, feeling less than, feeling worthless, feeling like I was somehow not Christian enough... But having come through that time, having dealt with the issue of purity and coming through the other side, I believe that Christ wants us to wait until we're married. But if we do have sex before marriage, we can be made clean again. I'm not the same person I was when I had sex with Ron. I'm not the same girl. I've made made a new creation and I am purified by His blood. Premarital sex is a sin and we are told not to do it in order to protect us. This, like all the other rules G-d makes, is not meant to limit us but to protect us.

And that bisexuality part? There are women I find attractive. There are men I find attractive. I've kissed men. I've kissed women. (Okay, I've kissed a woman.) Just like my behavior with men can be sinful, so can my behavior with women. I don't control who I find attractive but I do control what I do with those feelings. My physical actions can be sinful but so can my thoughts. If I dwell on either one, it can be sinful. I personally don't believe HAVING those feelings is sinful but what I do is.

Got another issue I should consider my ideas on? Another issue you'd like to know my ideas on? Or do you have opinions that you'd like to share?

Sunday, October 7, 2012

My Personal Doctrine Part 1

A few weeks ago, I went on a fast. Mostly from film, television, junk food, and coffee. Instead, I listened to sermons, read the Bible, prayed, etc. I listen only to CCM (either KLove or my Pandora stations). I did research on some aspects of Christianity to figure out what I believe and I'm trying to come up with what my personal doctrine is to try to figure out what denomination I am. I've gone through lists of denominations to try to figure it out.

I know that I do not believe in:

  • The Pope. Yes, he may be a good man but there is no person on Earth who I believe is more important than another. I don't believe that he has the power to give any additional rules especially since the Bible itself forbids adding to its pages.
  • Infant baptism. I strongly prefer the idea of baptism by immersion (and that is how I was baptized but that's beside the point). I believe that baptism is meant for when you can decide for yourself that you want to follow G-d. Though there's no set age that I would put as the minimum for baptism, I am glad I was 16 when I was baptized. I was old enough that I understood what I was doing, what it meant. It  was entirely my own decision. Given my own life, I'd had time already to turn away from the faith a bit and to turn back. My walk since then may not have been perfect and there may have been times that I still ran from G-d but I do remember my baptism and I know that I have been washed clean by Him. A baby cannot make that decision to follow Christ and I would not keep my child from experiencing the overwhelming feeling that came over me when I came up out of the water for anything.
  • KJV only. What good is the Bible if you can't understand it?
I don't care about:
  • How the church is governed. What does it matter to me if there are two levels of authority (pastor and deacons) like in the Baptist church or if there are committees and organizations? Those who say that the Baptist model is the right one because that's what the Bible says, well in Biblical times they did have meetings to decide things (Acts 15) and they didn't have nearly as many believers! More believers, more people to help organize things. That makes plenty of sense to me. But I also have nothing against the two level scheme either. If it works, I don't care.
  • Style of worship. I personally prefer Koin style worship (CCM with a worship band) but I also enjoy hymns. I just have a difficult time focusing on G-d during hymns because my thoughts are on my singing technique and what are the next words.
So I'm going to try to write out (and support) my beliefs regarding who G-d is and what I understand my relationship with Him to be. The following list isn't going to be exhaustive of my beliefs nor is it meant to be binding. It's meant instead to help clarify for myself what I believe.

I believe the Bible is the inspired word of G-d in it's original form. I believe that though there may be some mistakes along the way of translation, that G-d would not let His word be harmed or misunderstood. I believe that we ought to read His word daily. I also believe that I fail at this call nearly daily.

I believe that G-d is three-in-one. He is at the same time Father, Spirit, and Jesus. They are all equally important, equal parts, and at the same time they are separate. Don't ask me how to explain this because I cannot. It's not something human minds can grasp.

I believe that G-d created the Heavens and the Earth. I believe that they radiate His glory. I believe that all things are subject to His will and that He is omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient.
(My own picture from Osnabrueck 5 June 2012)

I believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross to save me. That it is only by the sacrifice of the Perfect Lamb that I can be made clean. That without His willing death I could not come before G-d. I believe that He truly was crucified, dead, and buried and on the third day He rose bodily again. I believe He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontious Pilate, crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into Hell and after spending time here on Earth with His followers, He rose to the right hand of G-d where He sits and waits the day of Judgement. I believe He was fully G-d and fully man. He never sinned.

I believe the Holy Spirit was poured out upon the believers on the day of Pentecost and that ONE of the signs that He is present is the gift of tongues (which I believe is still available but NOT necessary). I believe that when we can't find the words to speak, that the Holy Spirit intercedes on our behalf.

I believe baptism is an outward sign of an inward commitment. That it is meant to be done by immersion. If one truly believes but dies before they have a chance to be baptized, I do not believe they will be kept from heaven. The L-rd knows our hearts. I do believe that G-d meets us at certain points in our lives. The moment I prayed for Him to come into my heart, I felt Him touch me. The moment I came up from the water, I felt Him. I've felt Him when I take communion. But I've also felt Him taking a shower after a long day and sitting in Notre Dame praying silently.

I believe salvation is something we cannot earn. There is nothing we can do to make ourselves pure or to make ourselves more worthy of His forgiveness. Salvation is something we are given as a gift from our Father who loves us. It is only by accepting the sacrifice of Christ that we are saved from hell. If we don't have Christ, we don't have life either here or after our body dies.

I believe communion is important. It is a symbol of the sacrifice made for us. Note:SYMBOL. I do not believe that the bread becomes His body or that the wine becomes His blood. That my dear is cannibalism and that's frowned upon in most societies.

Though I do not see any Biblical proof of the day of worship switching, I don't see any reason why it's wrong to worship on Sunday. I do believe that we as humans were meant to take a day off. That's why we look forward to vacations, to weekends. We ought to take a day to worship, to relax. I do enjoy the Saturday services I've gone to but I'm not a stickler.