Karilynnbryant’s Weblog

We have been in our “new” rental house for about 2 months now in a suburb of Saint Louis, Mo.   The first thing that comes to my mind is:  I HATE CARPET.  That being said, I feel a lot like I felt when we first moved from Nebraska to Cincinnati.  Except that THANK GOD we are not living in a hotel room.  Sam is now the age that Mayah WAS when we moved that time, and he is exhibiting a lot of the same behaviors she did.  Potty training regression, confusion, fear, defiance.  Yes, the nice ones!  We are renting here for a year.  Our house in Cincinnati is still for sale.  Our realtors suck.  They basically did NOTHING because they knew our house would eventually be bought by Luke’s company anyhow.  We’ve recieved Bunge’s offer on our house, which is a lot less than what we’d hoped for.  Now we are working on the “to do” list that they give us to accomplish before they will actually buy the house.  Our realtor somehow seems to be much more on top of getting a handyman over to our house, etc…which has made me quite curious.   The whole process should be over by the end of the month.  At that time, we will have to pay the difference of what we owe on our house after the buyout .  Basically this means, we will not be able to buy again for a while.  Part of me likes this, the time to get a feel for “here,”  but deep down, the nesting part of me, the “mommy” part of me, wants to be settled and to not have to move again.  St Louis is Bunge’s headquarters, so this should be where we stay for a while, but then there is the other incredibly hard decision of WHERE to live in this huge city.    Oh, and lest you forget…Saint Louis was just ranked our nation’s most dangerous city!

I can’t really tell a lot about the area we live in yet because it’s been a pretty cold, snowy winter here (except for the freak warm days followed by tons of rain and tornadoes).  Although we lived in a suburb in Ohio, this one feels a lot bigger, a lot “whiter” and much more cookie cutter.    It’s been harder to adapt here as it IS winter, and the neighborhood we live in has no sidewalks.  There is not anywhere we could walk to even if we wanted to.  It is very BIG, very spread out, and has less of that midwest feel.   That being said, Mayah loves her new preschool, and we have joined the Rec Plex, and have enjoyed the library a lot lately.  Those are a plus.   As we think about where to make our permanent home, we’ve thought a lot about schools, nice neighborhoods, country versus city, sidewalks, land, suburbia, size of yard, size of house…and onandonandon…I can’t decide really where I want to live.  A lot of it was really riding on schools at first because Mayah is starting Kindergarten in the fall.  But the more I’ve thought about this, the more I am considering homeschooling (which is an entirely different post in itself).

As I’ve thought back over our moves and changes, although it seems the circumstances for this one have been much easier, my mood, my tone seems much more bleak.   I am tired.  I am restless.  Indecisive.  Worried.   And so…we are here,  tornadoes and all!  We are getting settled.  And yet, we are not settled.  We’ve unpacked the necessities, and tried a bit of the decoratives, but for the most part, to heck with unpacking every single box.  Who knows where we’ll be at this time next year?  We may have moved yet again!

I have not posted for a long time, because I feel like I don’t have anything positive to say.  About anything. I am afraid that I will just dive down into that dark well and never return.  I’ve been waiting for a few months now for things to turn around, or at least for me to be able to take what is coming with grace and swallow it, digest it, and the results would not be complete shit.  But, GOD!  Every time I get to this place, there is something else!  Some different type of straw layed gently atop of that camel, creating a tower so unsteady.  I’m trying to maintain …I take one piece off, study it, hoping to find the answer to remedy the problem…and then the more I focus on this, “trying” thing the more I feel like I’m making everything in life so much about me.  I am sick, I am depressed, I am worried, I am tired, I have so much to do and I can’t do it because I’m so sick. My kids are suffering because I can’t be there for them.  Too many “I’s.”  I could write out a list of things that I’m dealing with, but it wouldn’t change anything.

I am hoping and praying that somehow in all of this there is a “good.”  There in time I will look back on this and see that  faithfulness was enough…that the hope that comes from knowing that there is a God who wants to make all things right, will steady me though.   But, I’m a wreck.  A complete wreck.   Please, please, please God…no more.

Lately there have been many days I look in the mirror and don’t recognize the person looking back at me.   And not just because I’m getting older and my physique has morphed into that of one who has born children.  I have allowed myself to be changed.  Ever so slightly, bit by bit, it seems as if the one who I once was is disappearing.  I guess some would think this a good thing, but I have recently realized that the gnawing on my inside is my spirit somehow trying to tell me, “Hey!  Where are you going?  What are you doing?”  It is not a good feeling.

There are a lot of things going on in my life right now that could be the reason for depression.  And seriously, if I listed even half of them here, you may want to send me directly to the nut house.  And yet, when I get really honest with myself, I know that the ONE culprit is how I’ve allowed myself to be swayed in so many ways.  Persuaded.  Talked into it.  They told me it was “stretching yourself, you know, you are supposed to step outside of your comfort zone in order to grow.”   But, the constant pressure to ignore my inner voice and do something different has resulted in NOT growth, but a shrinking of my self worth, a narrowing of my mind, an anchor of lead that I drag behind me, and a fog in my head that has made me unable to see.    You see, there are things that GIVE life, and things that SUCK the life out of you.   As an introvert, maybe I could even say for me, there are more things that suck the life out of me than give me life.   Don’t try to talk me out of it.   It just is.  For me.

I have gone back to an old way of thinking:  My worth is based on man’s opinion.   In a way, I’ve “chased other loves.”   To please man.   And I’m looking in on the chaos that has been my life for the past year, and am trying to “straighten up” a bit, sift through the ashes, locate the value, retrieve that which remains.    And one thing keeps coming to my mind.  “A locked garden.”   A garden enclosed…flowing with fountains, and blooming with fruit, and yet the gate remains closed, waiting for the things that God has truly called me to, to enter, eat, and play there.   Things like my family.  My God.    I am a simple woman.  That’s probably an overstatement.   And for the past year or so, I’ve been running so fast, doing my best to meet criteria that is so far out of my league, that I have not been able to enjoy my young children, my husband, or even my time alone.

I feel so fortunate, so incredibly thankful for this glimpse, this hint.

Don’t we all have exquisite visions of  family time?   Oh, we will play and laugh and run and jump together!!!  Encouraging one another and helping too!  Blah blah-bitty blah…

Ugh.  It’s been a long, hot day.  I hope those of you who read here also keep up with me on facebook so that you know I’m not always griping. 

As I was cleaning up the dishes from supper, my husband strapped on his roller blades and motivated the kids to go outside and ride their bikes with him.  I was looking forward to some alone time (more than 10 minutes, please?).  I opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass.  Then my two year old, no doubt sent by my husband, came running up the steps yelling, “Mommy, I need shorts!  I need shoes!  I need you!  Can you come outside with me?”  So…I helped him with his shorts, and looked with no luck for his shoes.  I sent him back out, barefoot, with the message for his dad, that I would come out if I could sit in a chair and just rest for a while as they played.  So, I took my glass and headed outside…where there was not a chair to be found.  I sat on the steps and attempted to relax, but every mosquito in Ohio landed on my legs, I began to sweat, and both of my kids started yelling for me to help them…as my husband rolled off jolly-like down the sidewalk without a care in the world.  It was then that I decided I did not want to be outside in the 99 degrees and 100% humidity swatting at gnats and mosquitoes, babysitting the dog and helping my kids get on and off their bikes.  This was not my idea, not my plan, not my suggestion, nor my invitation to the kids to come and play with me.

And…I must be an awful mother and wife, because I let them all know this and went inside with the dog and my glass of wine.

For all of you moms out there, I’d like to offer up some real life honesty about the way I’m feeling about parenting right now.  Guilt, incompetence, selfishness, anger, and exhaustion.  I’m a bit depressed again.  I just told my husband I think I need to be admitted to the psych ward.  He laughed, but I’ve had more days where that seems a better option than where I’ve been.   I haven’t slept without being medicated for about 3 weeks now, which for me, means I haven’t really slept.  It’s been raining here for the last month, no sun.  I’m potty training a 2 yr old little boy, which means I’m cleaning up pee and poop a lot.  I have to stop everything I’m doing wherever I am to go potty, and if it’s a public restroom, I usually get peed on, no matter how we try it.  I’m struggling with the behavior of my 4 yr old daughter.  We have very similar personalities, and for the past two weeks, it’s been TORTURE to even be around her.  Add guilt now.   I’m so tired from this marathon, that I don’t have what it takes to keep running right now, and this is starting to creep in to that parental confidence thing.  If you don’t believe in what you are doing, if you don’t have confidence, your kids will probably sense it and walk all over you.  Well, I’m there.   I’ve lost the joy.  I don’t want to be a parent right now.  I don’t want to be around my kids because all it seems like I do is yell at them, and for those of you who know me, you know I don’t really yell.   I keep looking for the underlying cause…there must be something going on in my subconscious, that’s causing a complete meltdown – physical, emotional, mental…and then I realize that there are SEVERAL things going on:

-  breakdown of my understanding of christianity as I knew it

- upcoming visit to see family (a whole other blog post in itself)

- deployment of my brother in law to Afghanistan

- limbo state of major life situation, which is always going on in the back of my head – are we moving again?  When?  What’s Luke’s job situation?  Where will he be transferred to if he is transferred again?   Can I make it through another move?

I can’t really see the light right now, and I need a glimmer.  I need some sort of spark, something…

What do you do when you are at the end of yourself?

I suppose for some people, it’s black and white.  Either you believe in the God of the Bible and you are going to heaven, or you don’t.  Of course that would not be the case for me.  Faith is one of those things I’ve struggled with all of my life.  It has played many different roles, taking on many different appearances throughout the past 30 years.

Honestly, I’ve pretty much just eaten what I’ve been fed until now.  I’ve believed, moved with the masses, even shared the so called wealth.  I have been excited by having experienced God, I’ve been convinced I’ve been lovesick.  I’ve been talked into believing God was my boyfriend-kind-of-God, and that Jesus, God, and The Holy Spirit somehow all weave everything in history and in the future together in some magical way that makes sense to so many folks, that the END is coming tomorrow, that God heals people with cancer, that God speaks in audible words.  Ever wonder why you yourself have never experienced that?  Is your faith not strong enough, as they teach in the prosperity gospel?  Maybe it’s your personality?

What brought me back to a real and vibrant faith (as those in the church would call it), was an exposure and experience at The International House of Prayer, where I felt things I was told “in the spirit” that I’ve never felt, and I now realize how much of that was not reality, but mostly a play on my emotions and where i was at in my life during those years.  I never moved there or became involved, but I was a fervent listener to their messages and music.  I don’t doubt that God has used them, or that He did touch my heart through that place and experience, but as I have been in a place of nothing-ness for the past 3 years, I find myself questioning everything my faith was based on.   The way that I pray, the way that I worship, the person of God, my relationship with Jesus…all of it seems to be coming crashing down around me, yet again.

I find myself wondering:  Without all of the emotions, considering the different interpretations and translations of the Bible, with all of the different religious teachings out there and different denominations and PhDs, and opinions, and supposed “words” from God, WHAT IS THE TRUTH?  WHO IS GOD? Did I know him (or her)?

I thought a few years ago, that I was being forced to begin again, start from scratch with my faith, but now as I sit here, trying to put into perspective all of the broken pieces of information that WAS my faith, I realize I don’t really have much left this time.  I never truly did discover who God is.  And the question that kept popping up in my head last night as I pondered this was, “How can I love someone I don’t even know?”

So, what do I take with me?  What do I leave behind?  Presently, I’m not even sure I care, and so my only prayer is that God would somehow show my the truth, and give me the desire to learn again.

Here is a post that I read last night, that seemed to hit the mark.

http://communitascollective.com/dealing-with-doubt/

Does sharing intimate secrets about your life make you somebody’s friend?  Or does knowing someone for a long time, years and years, make you a friend?  Does having a “history” with someone make you their friend? I’m certain that none of these things on their own constitute friendship.

I listened to someone speak yesterday, who focused on relationships, and specifically, how God designed women to be “relational.”  Apparently, women need friends to gush to, to share with, to lean on, more than men.  As I sat listening to him describe his wife’s friendship with someone she’s known for years, and how she works hard to maintain that friendship, it struck me that I don’t really have any REALLY close, I mean CLOSE friends anymore.  Somewhere in the midst of the moving and the babies and the life changes I have become disconnected.  I look back and can remember having really close friends, who I shared my fears with, my hopes with, friends who knew my secrets and loved me still, friends who would pray with me, and not be afraid to just tell me the truth, even if it hurt.   I miss having these kinds of friends.  As I look back at each situation, I can clearly see where we parted ways…sometimes it was a wound left gaping, sometimes it was just that we became too different to have much to talk about…sometimes it was timing…marriage…whatever it was.  I think now, in hindsight, I could have done a lot of things differently, and I should have.  But, I wasn’t who I am now.  I was not ready to risk rejection to be honest about how I was feeling, or let on that my feelings had been hurt, or that I was struggling with time and energy.

It’s hard for me to open up to people.  I have some major rejection issues…and sometimes, with moving as frequently as we do, it just seems like it’s too hard to put effort into something that will just change or break my heart later on.   This made me so sad as I sat yesterday and listened to this man describe this beautiful relationship between his wife and her friend.  And honestly, I was a bit envious…and yet, even now as I sit here and write this, I am thinking to myself, “I just don’t have the energy to invest.”  Is that pathetic?   I think partly it’s because I have been lazy, but partly I’ve not learned until recently how to respect myself and how to say no and how to put in place healthy boundaries.  I’ve been walked on and taken advantage of …I want to help people, but more than that, I never wanted anyone to be mad at me.  I think this characteristic draws in the crazy people, the life draining co-dependent, manipulative, and broken people who can only be helped by God himself.  Maybe I thought I was God.

Today I once again found myself in the midst of a manipulative pseudo-relationship.  A woman I do not know very well, has been calling me a lot lately and inviting me over to her house.  Because of sick kids and me being out of town, we’ve never gone, but were going to go over today.  I tried to get in touch with her last night to make sure she was still expecting us, but after all of the hullaballoo she’s made about us coming over, strangely, she didn’t answer the phone, but responded with a text message that said no, she had scheduled a doctor’s appt for this morning, but she really really needed to talk to me, and would I please call her.  Hmm…I had JUST called her.  When I called her back, she basically said that since we were planning on coming over anyway, I could just watch her dog while she was gone and let the carpet installers in, but that I needed to make sure my daughter knew not to mix up the library books with the others.  WHAT?  Without waiting for my response she continued on about what good friends we were and then proceeded to spill some very awful news about her current family situation, which I also found to be very bizarre.    Then she told me how envious of my marriage she was, and some other things…which made me pretty uncomfortable.   I was trying to formulate in my head how to respond to her, when she abruptly said, “Oh, you live very far away from here, I’ll just call someone else to come over.”  It was then that I was somewhat honest with her and told her that I would not feel comfortable going over to her house, not knowing where she lived or knowing her dog, without her being there, and I wasn’t going to be helping her out this morning.  The conversation pretty much ended there, but she did ask if she could call me in the middle of the night if she were in trouble.   So, there is this part of me that realizes that this person is in desperate need of some help and friendship, but inside I know that I cannot help her.   And I was also angry that she tried to manipulate me.   So, I started wondering why she considered me to be a friend to her…??  She apologized over and over for not sharing her family stuff with me earlier, which I was not sure why she would have shared it, since we don’t really know one another.   Another manipulation.   Then she reminded me that she had shared some stuff with me before about her personal life.  Yes.  This was true…but does this constitute friendship?   It made me wonder if maybe I was just being judgmental and rude.  Am I?  Or did I just realize some self respect and say no?

The tug, the constant pull, the weight of never ever being able to get it right, that I experience as a mom is taking it’s toll.  I know what my kids need, and I can’t give them all of it.  It’s just not physically or mentally possible.  I know that there is not another person out there who can give their kids everything that they need either…apparently at the fall of humanity, we lost the ability to live without sin,  or error.  I know that God can give them what they need, but there is always this nagging voice reminding me of the things I could’ve done that day…could have taken 5 more minutes to read, could’ve taken an extra moment to REALLY admire the scribbles…could have counted to 10 before yelling, could have taken them to the library, to the museum, for a walk.

Sometimes I feel so selfish, because I do not enjoy every moment of my children.  I feel guilty for turning the TV on…when I should be pulling out a board game or reading a book.   I used to do these things…I especially did them a lot before Sam was born.  I think what is happening right now is that I am just overwhelmed with being tired, having had sick kids for so so so long, the mental HUGENESS of raising a very emotionally complex, deep, too-smart-for-her-own-good, 4 year old, and the IMMENSE physical beating that a 2 year old boy throws out at all hours he’s awake…that I’ve just zoned out and moved into survival mode.  Unfortunately, there is nothing fun about my survival mode…it doesn’t include fun, creative games or activities, or educational experiences…it’s just about making sure we are fed, clothed, safe.  Although, I realize now that there is no such thing as keeping a 2 yr old boy safe.   I am unmotivated, unmoved…

I am in the midst of a battle for control with Mayah, who can be the most hard headed, stubborn, defiant child at times…hmm…wonder where she gets that?  We are battling with obedience and respect.   It’s complicated though, because she and I are SO much alike.  She is very sensitive, very tender hearted, compassionate, but also gets her feelings hurt quite easily.  I am just like her, I can see those same tendencies now looking back at myself, and though I’ve grown and changed and am not so easily offended now, I see myself so clearly in her…and don’t have the patience for her because of that.  I thought it would be the opposite, but I am harder on her!  I know I am.   I want her to learn obedience and respectful behavior, and yet, when the battle is raging, I am the one demonstrating the ugly behavior!  There is nothing that she can lose or miss or experience that has motivated her to change.  I guess I know that the answer is consistence over time, but because I am not a patient person, this is extremely difficult.   The hardest part about this, is that I watched this same type of thing going on between my sister and my mother, and they ended up not having a good relationship.  Now that my mother is no longer on earth, I often hear my sister’s perspective of how things went down, the hurt that she felt, and I have talked with her a lot about my own relationship with Mayah.   It is quite impossible for me to not take her behavior personally, and I HATE this about myself, about our relationship.  I know that I need to change somehow, but I am not sure how.

Tonight after supper, I had both kids go upstairs for their bath.  It had been a long day of battling with Mayah, and I was SO ready for her to go to bed – there it is again…the good mommy feelings I was talking about before!  Both kids like to sit in the front of the tub to play with the water as it comes out, so this was the first battle.  Mayah got in the tub first, so she sat in front, but in order for me to help her wash her hair, I needed her to move to the back of the tub.  She said NO. I said she could do it on her own, or I could do it for her.  She did not move.  So, I moved her.  As I was moving her, she shoved Sam as hard as she could into the side of the tub, and he hit his head.  I lost it.  I just lost it.    As difficult as she can be at times, she has never been violent.  She never bit or hit or kicked or any of those things most toddlers and preschoolers do.  I pulled her out of the tub and sent her to her room dripping wet with no towel, as I was yelling at her, “You may NOT come out!  And while you are in there waiting for me, you need to consider your actions and how to be KIND!  You do NOT treat people like that!  You do NOT push!  EVER!  You hurt your brother!”  I was yelling!  It was not pretty.  I was not being kind, I was so angry I was shaking!  Not good.  Ok, so Luke came up from cleaning the kitchen, because he could tell that I was done…done in.   Sam was still hysterical in the bathtub.  I asked Luke if he would finish up with Sam while I went to talk to Mayah.  I felt like I needed to apologize for my own behavior.  I opened her door, and she ran and hid behind her chair.  She does this, because it’s one of the things we are “working on.”  When someone is talking to you, it is not ok to walk away or run and hide.    I went in to first apologize to her, but here she was, huffing and puffing and humph!-ing, in defiance!  But, I took a deep breath, and told her I was sorry for yelling at her, and for losing my temper.  I confessed that I should have handled that better.  She came out from behind the chair with a HUGE smile on her face.  She had won, in her eyes.  Oh yes.

“Mayah, I should not have lost my temper with you, but that does not mean that what you did was ok.”   Back behind the chair, huffing and puffing. I wanted to talk to her about what happened, but she was having none of it.   She was totally manipulating me!  I went behind her chair, picked her up, and placed her on her bed.   “Ok, I want you to put on your pajamas and it’s time for bed.  If you get out of bed, I will turn off your flower lamp” (which would make it pitch black in her room).   I laid her pajamas on the bed, turned out the light and shut the door.

And here I sit, agonizing over whether or not I’m doing it right…am I good enough?  Will she grow up knowing that she is loved?  Will she learn from me how to be a respectful, responsible, caring, loving human being?  Will I break her strong will?  Will I break her heart?  Will I fail?  Will she know how much I love her?  Will she know how much her Creator loves her?  Longs for her?  Will she ever see Him in my actions?  Do I reflect joy or beauty for her to see and experience?   Or anger, impatience, intolerance?  Will my behavior effect her personality?  Will I spoil her rotten, so that she has a hard time later in life?  Will I let her get away with too much, and will that effect her as an adult?  As a teenager?  Am I doing a good enough job as a mom?  Never.  Never ever.  Not in my mind anyway…not even as many people tell me that I am a good mom…I still feel like I’m failing them somehow.

Sometimes I think if I just had the time and energy to regroup every once in a while and refocus on what is important, and how to accomplish our goals as parents and as a family…things would be easier.  Time and energy have not made their appearance lately though.    So, tell me again…of your own struggles as a mom…and how you deal with it all.

…i love passive aggressive behavior…especially when it’s directed towards me from someone’s facebook page…

So…it really bothers me that because I’m a Christian, I am stereotyped into this gay hating, gun toting, Bible thumping, uneducated, illogical person who sits sternly with the “religious right.”  What is that anyway?  Ugh.  I hate feeling like I can’t be or share what’s really on my heart sometimes because of how people will respond to me.  Sometimes it’s too much one direction, sometimes it’s too much the other.  I know I’m rambling, but I just got my feelings hurt on facebook (I know! I know!) because of something I posted that was clearly way too far over on the “religious right” side that someone did not like.  I don’t mind if you don’t agree with me…I actually welcome it…but it was a completely nasty comment that basically threw me into this grouping of stupid, arrogant, and the comments actually did include something about homosexuals and called me a Bible thumper!!!   I sort of felt like I needed to write another post just to clearly define who I am and what I believe so that this person would know that she had it all wrong…I don’t even know why it matters so much, the person doesn’t even know me well enough to know where I live!  But, words hurt me.  They do.  I’m hurt.  And as I was thinking about WHO I AM, I felt split between two worlds.

I believe in God, the Father of Jesus.  This is what I believe.  I believe that Jesus and the Father planned for me and you, and also thought out the way that Jesus would be the sacrifice for human sin, so that we could be reunited with our Father.  I believe that they both love humans, and desire to show us how much they love us.  I believe that God is just and is righteous, and is pure and holy.  I believe that God has human emotions too…and that things like murder and rape make him angry and sad.  I believe that ANYONE can also believe, and I don’t know that there is a specific formula for this.  I love to pray, I love worship music, I love to read about god to my kids, and I love to be able to just sit and BE and feel God around me…I love Him, and I want to love Him more.  I love his grace, and I have experienced that allowing myself to accept that grace causes me to give others a lot more grace.   Because of my upbringing, I am very well versed in “christianese.”  haha!  I don’t like this so much, but this is really the only way I know how to express these things right now.

Ok, so…while we’re at it…on the other side of things, I have some friends who might balk at some of the things I do NOT believe about God and church.  They are church goers and practicing Christianity as a typical church going christian would…which is something I struggle with.   I don’t think you have to go to church to believe in God, I don’t think you need to be surrounded by a community of believers in a building to have a relationship with christ.  You’re not going to “slide off the cliff” if you don’t go to a church building every Sunday.  I don’t think people who are not christians are bad.  In fact, I think God uses everyone, and loves to LOVE everyone, regardless of their religion…I think God can do whatever he wants to do, and frankly, our church buildings have kept him into our human made boxes…And, good heavens, when my children tell me that God lives in heaven, I tell them, that no, you can see him all around us in the trees and flowers and clouds and rain.    And there are many things that I don’t know!  I am not sure if the Bible was translated correctly every time, and I’m not sure that the way seminaries interpret it all is even correct, and I believe that God can say whatever he wants to say without the Bible!  Gasp!  I hear it!   In fact, it’s been a very long time since I’ve even opened mine!  Actually, I don’t even know where it is!  I do not believe that there is some special formula that you have to recite or say out loud to be a christian.  I think there are people who probably are christians and don’t even know it!  I don’t think you have to close your eyes to talk to God or fold your hands.  I don’t think God really cares if my kids are running around or dancing during church.  I also think it’s so weird that we have a preacher who stands up on a stand at a pulpit and teaches us things about God.  I would much prefer a conversation on the same level.  I think it’s horrible to teach about tithing…especially when there are so many poor and hungry.  In fact, the saying, “give to God” makes me cringe.  Give to those who need it!  Granted, many churches take your money and do just that, but still…the whole idea turns me WAY off.   I think God loves a gay person just as much as he loves me, and I don’t think I am any better because I am straight.   I think LOVE is the most important thing God wants to convey, and I believe that LOVE is the only thing that can change hearts and lives.  I do not believe in scare tactics, or the prosperity gospel.  I am very interested in the “end times” and other controversial god topics!  I also think it’s OK if you don’t believe the same things I do.

So, those are the things that I do and do not believe, but the list of things I don’t know regarding God is WAY longer…and I think He’s ok with all of it.  I guess I’m feeling a bit stuck between 2 worlds…different expectations…ideas of truth…and it’s hard to just be who I am and believe what I believe out loud, or honestly with people without being afraid that I’ll be rejected.   I have made friends here in Cincinnati that I love, and because they are friends from a church, I’m nervous that because I don’t agree or do or believe everything the way that they do…somehow it will effect our friendship.  I know this should probably be a ridiculous thought, but…still.

Sometimes I can be quite ridiculous!