God's little metaphors, part 2
Now that I'm older, wiser, and a lot more mature from when I first wrote that essay, I decided to post a follow-up.
To start off, I was reading my reviews from the first chapter, and I wish to state some things.
THE PARTY:
1) I was a naieve little Freshmen, what do you want from me?
2) I never said that the music was bad/evil/whatnot, I don't recall what kind of music it is anymore, but I'd like to say I'm a huge fan of punk and alternative music, it's almost all I listen to. I feel music is the ultimate freedom of expression and no one should be criticized for what they sing about.
3) Drinking. I'm not saying Christians shouldn't drink, they do, it's allowed. I am saying, however, that I was at a party with 14-17 year olds, for whom drinking is illegal at the very least. I've seen people get drunk, it's not pretty. I did not want to be in a situation where people, children, were getting drunk and/or high.
4) I never said parties are bad. I'm a social little girl, I love parties. I guess some people just inferred my message incorrectly.
OTHER STUFF:
Someone in some review said "I'd feel bad for people if Christianity was a disease. I mean, it's not the way to go. Some things in it are just weird (edited for grammar and spelling)." See now, that's an example of things I don't like about the face of Christianity. I did have another "fic" out, more of a list, entitled Why I Don't Like Christianity Today, but some being with a stick up it's butt decided it was not a "fan fiction" and got it deleted. I was upset. I posted a rant on the message board (when ff.net still had them) and my post got "closed" because my topic was not "pertinent for discussion". I kinda left The Bible section after that, people in here are just plain crabby.
Sorry, got off on a tangent, what I was trying to say was this: Not everyone who calls themselves a "Christian" knows and follows the teachings of Christ. There are a lot of creepy fanatics out there who are intolerent, close-minded freaks who give Christianity a bad name. Now, if Christianity (the "true" Christianity, whatever it may be) was a disease, people would be infected with a perfect version of the virus.
Now I see some complications with that. Some people may get a more severe form of Christianity and go beserk. Others may only get a mild case and recover quickly. Others may be immune to the bug, like Typhoid Mary, who carry it around, but don't show symptoms. Which is very true for religion today anyway. Some people may or may not have Jesus in their hearts, may say they do, but don't show the signs of being alive for Christ.
Maybe Christianity is a "disease" of sorts. I know, that makes it sound bad, but some bacteria are helpful, like the ones in your stomach that help you digest food
OTHER STUFF, PART 2:
Some people have asked me, in a merely hypothetical way, if God cares enough about me to give me a sign, like tripping over that crack in the sidewalk, why doesn't He care enough about people whose only crime has been being born in a country like Afghanistan. I believe that my tripping on a crack experience wasn't exactly an answer to a prayer, it was more me being clumsy than anything else. Having the insight that God has given me to interpert it in a way that was meaningful to me, that was my point. Tripping on a crack was not an answer to a prayer, I just interpereted it in that way. I gave myself an anser to my prayer. I believe that God has given me the... wisdom is not the word I want, but it will have to do... wisdom to see things like that, my answer was given to me at birth.
*~And now for something completely different:~*
Since May 6, 2001 a lot of things have changed. One, I realized that this world isn't a big happy family and that some people do hate other people and will kill innocent people for things they believe in. Two, I turned sixteen. I've been trained to drive and learned the responsibility that goes along with that. Three, I've been fighting off depression within the past few months after two of my close friends, within a week of each other, attempted suicide. Thankfully neither of them succeeded, but that shook me up really badly. Four, I just got out of the hospital (just in time for the holidays) where I spent a good four days thinking, trying not to die. I feel like a completely different person from the happy-go-lucky freshmen I was when I wrote the first chapter of this.
Sometimes God doesn't send messages in nice little metaphors like tripping on cracks in sidewalks. Sometimes He has to take a frying pan and whack you upside the head to get through to you. Or He has to sit back and watch as planes crash into buildings to get the message through. Or He has to watch you suffer as someone you care very deeply about tries to take his own life. Maybe He realizes that you need to experience first hand how precious your life is and almost kill you before you wake up and understand how great life is.
When bad things happen, like "*~the EVENTS of Sept. 11~*", (and I put that in quotes and little decorative banners because no one likes to call those "events" what they really were. I'm being politically correct) people like to blame God. Even if they don't believe there is such a thing, they blame Him. "Why does God let things like this happen?" "Doesn't God care enough about us to have prevented that?" Terrorism has been a problem for *years*, and not just in America. All over the place, but no one ever did anything about it. Maybe it took an act of hate on a scale this huge to finally get our attention. Will we be blaming God for this ten years down the road when terrorism is almost eradicated? Will we be saying "Oh yeah, thanks God for letting those people die so that we could save all those other potential victims", or will we forget about God then, let it blow over. "Oh well, September 11th was horrible, but isn't it great that we have such a good military that we stomped all over those bastards?"
Sometimes even something like that doesn't shake people's bubbles. Like mine. I live in perfect-ville, Illinois. I wasn't touched by the terrorist strikes. Sure, my school day was a bit off, and I watched everything happen on live tv, but it didn't phaze me for too long. Maybe I was upset for the first few days, but then I forgot all about it. Oh well, let's just go on with our lives, hey, Homecoming is this weekend and I'm on the court! Whoo hoo! My life was still perfect.
Then Shayne (name has been changed to protect the coolest kid ever) decided that he wasn't good enough to live and took 27 tylenol one Friday morning. Now I believe that if Shayne had been serious about killing himself, he would have done it better with no chance or survival, but it was still scary. The thought of losing him scared the living daylights out of me. Then, a few days later, I get a call from my best friend Kendry (name changed to protect the innocent). I had been at school late for play practice, and speech rehersal and whatnot, so it was late, around 5. Kendry was in tears, asking me if I had been online at all and if I had gotten Alex's (name... you get the picture) e-mail. I said no and tried to calm her down when she told me that Alex had sent me, her, and two of our other friends e-mail's saying "goodbye". Kendry freaked out, especially since what Shayne had just put us through, and called the police, just to get them to call Alex's parents or something, maybe to check up on him.
That's when I realized how imperfect the world was. That's when I realized that the world needed help, that I couldn't just sit by and watch the people I know and love self-destruct. That's when I took an active interest in my friend's lives. I made sure they knew how much they meant to me, how much I loved them, especially Shayne and Alex. I felt like a more complete person. I now know that when you share love, you recieve it back ten-fold and it's the best feeling in the world. Almost losing Shayne and Alex made me realize how distant I was from those who I cared about, and that wake-up call brought me closer to everyone. But soon I became *too* involved in people's lives. I started to worry about others more than I worried about myself. I began to run myself down. Little things started to bother me and I soon forgot the value of my own life. Everything started to bother me and I was no longer happy. I made sure those around me were happy, but I forgot to 'look out for number one.' I was one of the most miserable kids around. I forgot about God. Well, I couldn't forget, He's always with me, but I distanced myself from Him.
Then I got sick. Just recently too. Sunday, December 16th, three days after my 16th birthday, I got a really bad case of the flu. I stayed home from school on Monday, hoping to recover, but I didn't. My mom rushed me to the hospital on Tuesday (the 18th) and I was diagnosed with pneumonia. I was also really dehydrated from the flu, so I got an IV and some meds, and then got sent home. Wednesday I seemed to be doing better, but then Thursday morning, really early, like, 4 am, I started throwing up and wouldn't stop. I couldn't get my medication down so I began to cough. My mom rushed me back to the hospital and I spent thursday (the 20th) until monday (the 24th) in the hospital. My mom told me yesterday that I almost died. I was allergic to 4 out of 4 pneumonia medicines and I couldn't hold food or water down and everyone thought I was going to die. But I didn't die, and I got to go home right in time for Christmas.
I now realize how important I am to everyone (I got a crap load of stuff and phone calls and visits when I was in the hospital) and I need to look out for myself as well. Sometimes God needs to knock you down for you to realize you ever needed to get back up.
Now that I'm older, wiser, and a lot more mature from when I first wrote that essay, I decided to post a follow-up.
To start off, I was reading my reviews from the first chapter, and I wish to state some things.
THE PARTY:
1) I was a naieve little Freshmen, what do you want from me?
2) I never said that the music was bad/evil/whatnot, I don't recall what kind of music it is anymore, but I'd like to say I'm a huge fan of punk and alternative music, it's almost all I listen to. I feel music is the ultimate freedom of expression and no one should be criticized for what they sing about.
3) Drinking. I'm not saying Christians shouldn't drink, they do, it's allowed. I am saying, however, that I was at a party with 14-17 year olds, for whom drinking is illegal at the very least. I've seen people get drunk, it's not pretty. I did not want to be in a situation where people, children, were getting drunk and/or high.
4) I never said parties are bad. I'm a social little girl, I love parties. I guess some people just inferred my message incorrectly.
OTHER STUFF:
Someone in some review said "I'd feel bad for people if Christianity was a disease. I mean, it's not the way to go. Some things in it are just weird (edited for grammar and spelling)." See now, that's an example of things I don't like about the face of Christianity. I did have another "fic" out, more of a list, entitled Why I Don't Like Christianity Today, but some being with a stick up it's butt decided it was not a "fan fiction" and got it deleted. I was upset. I posted a rant on the message board (when ff.net still had them) and my post got "closed" because my topic was not "pertinent for discussion". I kinda left The Bible section after that, people in here are just plain crabby.
Sorry, got off on a tangent, what I was trying to say was this: Not everyone who calls themselves a "Christian" knows and follows the teachings of Christ. There are a lot of creepy fanatics out there who are intolerent, close-minded freaks who give Christianity a bad name. Now, if Christianity (the "true" Christianity, whatever it may be) was a disease, people would be infected with a perfect version of the virus.
Now I see some complications with that. Some people may get a more severe form of Christianity and go beserk. Others may only get a mild case and recover quickly. Others may be immune to the bug, like Typhoid Mary, who carry it around, but don't show symptoms. Which is very true for religion today anyway. Some people may or may not have Jesus in their hearts, may say they do, but don't show the signs of being alive for Christ.
Maybe Christianity is a "disease" of sorts. I know, that makes it sound bad, but some bacteria are helpful, like the ones in your stomach that help you digest food
OTHER STUFF, PART 2:
Some people have asked me, in a merely hypothetical way, if God cares enough about me to give me a sign, like tripping over that crack in the sidewalk, why doesn't He care enough about people whose only crime has been being born in a country like Afghanistan. I believe that my tripping on a crack experience wasn't exactly an answer to a prayer, it was more me being clumsy than anything else. Having the insight that God has given me to interpert it in a way that was meaningful to me, that was my point. Tripping on a crack was not an answer to a prayer, I just interpereted it in that way. I gave myself an anser to my prayer. I believe that God has given me the... wisdom is not the word I want, but it will have to do... wisdom to see things like that, my answer was given to me at birth.
*~And now for something completely different:~*
Since May 6, 2001 a lot of things have changed. One, I realized that this world isn't a big happy family and that some people do hate other people and will kill innocent people for things they believe in. Two, I turned sixteen. I've been trained to drive and learned the responsibility that goes along with that. Three, I've been fighting off depression within the past few months after two of my close friends, within a week of each other, attempted suicide. Thankfully neither of them succeeded, but that shook me up really badly. Four, I just got out of the hospital (just in time for the holidays) where I spent a good four days thinking, trying not to die. I feel like a completely different person from the happy-go-lucky freshmen I was when I wrote the first chapter of this.
Sometimes God doesn't send messages in nice little metaphors like tripping on cracks in sidewalks. Sometimes He has to take a frying pan and whack you upside the head to get through to you. Or He has to sit back and watch as planes crash into buildings to get the message through. Or He has to watch you suffer as someone you care very deeply about tries to take his own life. Maybe He realizes that you need to experience first hand how precious your life is and almost kill you before you wake up and understand how great life is.
When bad things happen, like "*~the EVENTS of Sept. 11~*", (and I put that in quotes and little decorative banners because no one likes to call those "events" what they really were. I'm being politically correct) people like to blame God. Even if they don't believe there is such a thing, they blame Him. "Why does God let things like this happen?" "Doesn't God care enough about us to have prevented that?" Terrorism has been a problem for *years*, and not just in America. All over the place, but no one ever did anything about it. Maybe it took an act of hate on a scale this huge to finally get our attention. Will we be blaming God for this ten years down the road when terrorism is almost eradicated? Will we be saying "Oh yeah, thanks God for letting those people die so that we could save all those other potential victims", or will we forget about God then, let it blow over. "Oh well, September 11th was horrible, but isn't it great that we have such a good military that we stomped all over those bastards?"
Sometimes even something like that doesn't shake people's bubbles. Like mine. I live in perfect-ville, Illinois. I wasn't touched by the terrorist strikes. Sure, my school day was a bit off, and I watched everything happen on live tv, but it didn't phaze me for too long. Maybe I was upset for the first few days, but then I forgot all about it. Oh well, let's just go on with our lives, hey, Homecoming is this weekend and I'm on the court! Whoo hoo! My life was still perfect.
Then Shayne (name has been changed to protect the coolest kid ever) decided that he wasn't good enough to live and took 27 tylenol one Friday morning. Now I believe that if Shayne had been serious about killing himself, he would have done it better with no chance or survival, but it was still scary. The thought of losing him scared the living daylights out of me. Then, a few days later, I get a call from my best friend Kendry (name changed to protect the innocent). I had been at school late for play practice, and speech rehersal and whatnot, so it was late, around 5. Kendry was in tears, asking me if I had been online at all and if I had gotten Alex's (name... you get the picture) e-mail. I said no and tried to calm her down when she told me that Alex had sent me, her, and two of our other friends e-mail's saying "goodbye". Kendry freaked out, especially since what Shayne had just put us through, and called the police, just to get them to call Alex's parents or something, maybe to check up on him.
That's when I realized how imperfect the world was. That's when I realized that the world needed help, that I couldn't just sit by and watch the people I know and love self-destruct. That's when I took an active interest in my friend's lives. I made sure they knew how much they meant to me, how much I loved them, especially Shayne and Alex. I felt like a more complete person. I now know that when you share love, you recieve it back ten-fold and it's the best feeling in the world. Almost losing Shayne and Alex made me realize how distant I was from those who I cared about, and that wake-up call brought me closer to everyone. But soon I became *too* involved in people's lives. I started to worry about others more than I worried about myself. I began to run myself down. Little things started to bother me and I soon forgot the value of my own life. Everything started to bother me and I was no longer happy. I made sure those around me were happy, but I forgot to 'look out for number one.' I was one of the most miserable kids around. I forgot about God. Well, I couldn't forget, He's always with me, but I distanced myself from Him.
Then I got sick. Just recently too. Sunday, December 16th, three days after my 16th birthday, I got a really bad case of the flu. I stayed home from school on Monday, hoping to recover, but I didn't. My mom rushed me to the hospital on Tuesday (the 18th) and I was diagnosed with pneumonia. I was also really dehydrated from the flu, so I got an IV and some meds, and then got sent home. Wednesday I seemed to be doing better, but then Thursday morning, really early, like, 4 am, I started throwing up and wouldn't stop. I couldn't get my medication down so I began to cough. My mom rushed me back to the hospital and I spent thursday (the 20th) until monday (the 24th) in the hospital. My mom told me yesterday that I almost died. I was allergic to 4 out of 4 pneumonia medicines and I couldn't hold food or water down and everyone thought I was going to die. But I didn't die, and I got to go home right in time for Christmas.
I now realize how important I am to everyone (I got a crap load of stuff and phone calls and visits when I was in the hospital) and I need to look out for myself as well. Sometimes God needs to knock you down for you to realize you ever needed to get back up.
