1. I am very tired. I went ice-skating today with church group. Ice skating makes me feel very 1950s. It’s so wholesome and innocent.
2. Yesterday I went shopping with Nicole the Vegetarian, and we bought, among other things, five cans of Spam and two large packages of bacon ends for tomorrow. My other church group is going to be serving dinner to 80 homeless men at a shelter downtown. We’re having macaroni and cheese, with Spam and bacon. I am ridiculously excited for this.
Besides the whole relationship with Jesus and everlasting life deal, being a Christian is a lot of fun. We go ice-skating. We get to make huge quantities of macaroni-and-cheese-with-Spam-and-bacon, and eat it.
I love being a Christian!
But then I get to thinking about other Christians that don’t have it so well. I once typed “conservative Christian girl” into Google images, just to see what popped up. The very first picture is a teenage girl, probably around my age, with her head chopped off.
Do Christians where I live have to deal with things like that?
Do I cringe and feel abused when I see things on Facebook like “God *****” that my Atheist friends post?
When you put everything into perspective, things just seem a whole lot better.
3. Somewhat unrelated story: The other day, I was going to an event at a church across town. It was at night, and the area is somewhat sketchy. I was taking the bus there, so I asked my father for a ride home. “Oh Sofia, I’m not feeling well today . . . ” he replied.
“Whatever,” thought I, “I’ll get home somehow. God always gets me home when I do stupid things like this.”
So I went. Throughout the service, I kept thinking, “Hmm, Sofia, how are you going to get yourself home? This was a somewhat dumb idea.”
I got a little scared. “God,” I thought, “if I feel inspired by what this speaker has to say in the next few minutes, I’ll stay here and trust getting home to You. Otherwise, I’m going to go now so that I’m not in downtown at 11.”
A few minutes later, I started to feel inspired. Rats.
Afterwards, at snack time, I asked around. Did anyone live in my part of town? Anyone?
I said goodbye to my friends, and started out. It was dark. It was 10:45, in a rough neighborhood. There were two inebriated men at the bus stop, drinking and shouting.
“Sofia,” I said to myself as I clutched my pepper spray, “you are very stupid.”
But at that moment, when I was trying to decide whether or not to walk to the next bus stop, a car flew around the corner and honked loudly. It was my friend, offering a ride, in her safe, warm car.
God is SO cool.