Normal "Christians" don't get me.People who don't believe don't get me.
I would say I'm stuck in the middle, but that makes me think of a dazed squirrel in the middle of the road about to get smushed because it can't decide which way to run.So the verdict is in: I'm Nowhere.
And everywhere. My mind is all over the place.
I love God, but not religion. I have compassion for other people, but it would take pulling all of my teeth, slowly and painfully, to get me to go to church and hang out with other believers. My life is squeaky-clean, but only because I have been plucked off of my path, corrected, taught, chastised, instructed, protected, guided, encouraged, blessed, and washed in His blood.My life has been messy, and although no evidence remains (unless I tell you, which I will and do, compulsively), it has left a mark on my mind.Some say I suffer from low self-esteem. I say I have been humbled and I think it's better to slink along the bottom than pretend to be something I'm not.Someone once said that I have "intimacy issues". No, the truth is, WHY would I want to let you get close to me? What's in it for me? More pain? Where do I sign? And, what if I'm looking out for your best interest by denying access to the inner realm of my head?
I'm more conflicted than a checker board, more divided than a cookie on a playground. Oh and I'm filled to the brim with bad analogies. My sister used to make fun of them, so over the years it's grown into a thing. Now I find myself making them up just to see how bad they can really be.
More about me, just so you know:I was raised Catholic, but that's just because my parents had us in private school 'cause we lived in Oak Cliff. I became a Christian at the age of 17, my mom witnessed to me. Seems a friend of hers told her all about Christ one day, and she became a believer. Until this point I never knew anything about God.I became pregnant at 20, married at 21, divorced at 27, and have been struggling ever since. I am an artist, although a non-practicing one. Too much in my head that cannot be expressed through paint. I'm telling you, blogging is better than the best of therapists. I started several months ago and have not shut up since.
I have so much to say.
I've been wide awake all night, thinking. I've been wondering why I have so many God stories to tell. I never meant to have all this to talk about. I'm looking at my life and wondering, what on earth?Only God knows why He picks out certain folks for certain things. But I'm getting suspicious. I'm remembering lots of crazy things I've done for Him. I'm thinking, does He use me in crazy ways because I'm open to crazy things?When I got saved at 17, that's when all these ideas started coming into my head. Creative ways to spread the Word. I had to do it, I was so amazed at the whole salvation thing. It was all new to me, and I just had to make sure the rest of the world knew about Jesus. I took it upon myself to spread the Word in my own way. Most of these things I did secretly. Never told a soul. Except my little brother, who was an Accomplice.The first things we'd do were make little tracts, or just go buy a few packs at the Christian bookstore. And we'd wait till late at night. And go for a drive, all over town. I'd drive, and he'd litter. It was so much fun. I was 17, he was 7. This is how it all started, and it came to be known as "littering." Sometimes I'd go to the bookstore and get a few good books, or even Bibles, and go to my bro and say, "Psst--wanna go littering??" His face would light up like a firefly. We had so much fun.And this idea was actually his: we tied a bunch of tracts to helium balloons, and just set them free. This was his favorite way to litter.This activity sort of morphed into other things....like driving through a really poor neighborhood, praying, picking out a house, and running up to the door, giving a one hundred dollar bill to whoever opened the door, saying "Merry Christmas and God Bless You!!" ...and running back to the car and driving off before they could say anything. I can't describe the surge of adrenaline you get when you do things like that. It's almost too much.When I finally wrote my testimony several years ago, I wasn't satisfied just passing it around to my friends. I made sure one got sent to Australia. To an old friend. He was a mess at the time and really needed some good old-fashioned inspiration. And then I also sent a copy to this minister in Africa, who wrote back and said they read it aloud at one of their services, and many people were touched.It's always best to do these types of things anonymously. Never knowing the outcome, never putting my name to anything. Because then I might be tempted to want to know the results. I'd rather not know. I'd rather view everything through eyes of faith, and not base anything on what my real eyes see. Plus, I never have to answer to anyone or explain myself that way.I think we should all be more free with God. Loosen up and do something unexpected. Be creative. Actually instead of doing something crazy, do something free. Be free with it. Think freedom. Be an open vessel that God can use. I refuse to share Christ in a normal manner. There's enough folks on God's green earth who do things right. I just let them do things their way, and I do things my way, and that's that.
I would say I'm stuck in the middle, but that makes me think of a dazed squirrel in the middle of the road about to get smushed because it can't decide which way to run.So the verdict is in: I'm Nowhere.
And everywhere. My mind is all over the place.
I love God, but not religion. I have compassion for other people, but it would take pulling all of my teeth, slowly and painfully, to get me to go to church and hang out with other believers. My life is squeaky-clean, but only because I have been plucked off of my path, corrected, taught, chastised, instructed, protected, guided, encouraged, blessed, and washed in His blood.My life has been messy, and although no evidence remains (unless I tell you, which I will and do, compulsively), it has left a mark on my mind.Some say I suffer from low self-esteem. I say I have been humbled and I think it's better to slink along the bottom than pretend to be something I'm not.Someone once said that I have "intimacy issues". No, the truth is, WHY would I want to let you get close to me? What's in it for me? More pain? Where do I sign? And, what if I'm looking out for your best interest by denying access to the inner realm of my head?
I'm more conflicted than a checker board, more divided than a cookie on a playground. Oh and I'm filled to the brim with bad analogies. My sister used to make fun of them, so over the years it's grown into a thing. Now I find myself making them up just to see how bad they can really be.
More about me, just so you know:I was raised Catholic, but that's just because my parents had us in private school 'cause we lived in Oak Cliff. I became a Christian at the age of 17, my mom witnessed to me. Seems a friend of hers told her all about Christ one day, and she became a believer. Until this point I never knew anything about God.I became pregnant at 20, married at 21, divorced at 27, and have been struggling ever since. I am an artist, although a non-practicing one. Too much in my head that cannot be expressed through paint. I'm telling you, blogging is better than the best of therapists. I started several months ago and have not shut up since.
I have so much to say.
I've been wide awake all night, thinking. I've been wondering why I have so many God stories to tell. I never meant to have all this to talk about. I'm looking at my life and wondering, what on earth?Only God knows why He picks out certain folks for certain things. But I'm getting suspicious. I'm remembering lots of crazy things I've done for Him. I'm thinking, does He use me in crazy ways because I'm open to crazy things?When I got saved at 17, that's when all these ideas started coming into my head. Creative ways to spread the Word. I had to do it, I was so amazed at the whole salvation thing. It was all new to me, and I just had to make sure the rest of the world knew about Jesus. I took it upon myself to spread the Word in my own way. Most of these things I did secretly. Never told a soul. Except my little brother, who was an Accomplice.The first things we'd do were make little tracts, or just go buy a few packs at the Christian bookstore. And we'd wait till late at night. And go for a drive, all over town. I'd drive, and he'd litter. It was so much fun. I was 17, he was 7. This is how it all started, and it came to be known as "littering." Sometimes I'd go to the bookstore and get a few good books, or even Bibles, and go to my bro and say, "Psst--wanna go littering??" His face would light up like a firefly. We had so much fun.And this idea was actually his: we tied a bunch of tracts to helium balloons, and just set them free. This was his favorite way to litter.This activity sort of morphed into other things....like driving through a really poor neighborhood, praying, picking out a house, and running up to the door, giving a one hundred dollar bill to whoever opened the door, saying "Merry Christmas and God Bless You!!" ...and running back to the car and driving off before they could say anything. I can't describe the surge of adrenaline you get when you do things like that. It's almost too much.When I finally wrote my testimony several years ago, I wasn't satisfied just passing it around to my friends. I made sure one got sent to Australia. To an old friend. He was a mess at the time and really needed some good old-fashioned inspiration. And then I also sent a copy to this minister in Africa, who wrote back and said they read it aloud at one of their services, and many people were touched.It's always best to do these types of things anonymously. Never knowing the outcome, never putting my name to anything. Because then I might be tempted to want to know the results. I'd rather not know. I'd rather view everything through eyes of faith, and not base anything on what my real eyes see. Plus, I never have to answer to anyone or explain myself that way.I think we should all be more free with God. Loosen up and do something unexpected. Be creative. Actually instead of doing something crazy, do something free. Be free with it. Think freedom. Be an open vessel that God can use. I refuse to share Christ in a normal manner. There's enough folks on God's green earth who do things right. I just let them do things their way, and I do things my way, and that's that.
