My healing was rescinded tonight. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I don’t know what I should do. I want to call Steve, but he’s in Walnut Creek doing stupid Verizon training.
Please pray for me.
I’m hoping my future will be lovely. I hope I am happy and able to take care of everything that needs to be taken care of. That’s a very wordy way of saying that I hope I’m in a good financial situation and that I’m loving what I do. I never want to have a job where I’m not in love with that it is I’m doing, but I also don’t want to be so prideful that I’d refuse a job if I needed it.
This would be two moments.
The first would be when I finished the final draft of a book of mine last summer. I was so unbelievably happy, and I really thought that was going to be my breakthrough. Eventually, it was turned down by fifteen or so agents and I was told repeatedly that the book wasn’t long enough. Sometimes, you just take advice.
The second moment would definitely be when I talked to Mrs. Kuiken about Europe, and after ranting for several minutes, she folded her hands and said solemnly, “That is exactly how I feel.”
God knows how much I want to go on this trip. He really does.
Thank you Jesus. I praise you either way.
I’m apparently a Taurus, and I just narrowly fit into that one.
It means you’re supposed to be introverted, which is interesting, because I sort of am.
Vice principal may be able to get me on the Europe trip!
When I was thirteen. It was right after my parent’s split up, and I began questioning my sexuality. All of these things came to a point where I was desperate for attention and just wanted somebody to care. The ironic thing is that I was meeting with Steve occasionally—I just never told him how I felt.
I started something called “The Goodbye Letters” and my “friend” at the time found out about them. She called me and we talked about it. She didn’t really condemn my depression, but appeared interested.
She subsequently told her entire school that I was gay.
After that, I was laying on my parent’s bed one day and had ten or so ibuprofens next to me. They were scattered around my head. The radio was on in the bathroom. I scooped them up and lifted them to my lips, allowing them to press against my skin; I didn’t swallow them. That was the closest I’ve ever gotten to actually doing something.
I texted that friend and told her about the pills. That same week, Steve came to speak at her school, and she and another friend of mine (who is still a good friend) intervened for me by telling Steve, tearfully, after chapel.
Steve and Pastor Mike came to pick me up the next day and took me to dinner. We went to a tacky restaurant in Paso and the music was too loud. Afterwards, we sat in Mike’s car and just talked. I remember something I said very well, and very clearly:
“I just thought … Steve had stopped talking to me or meeting with me, and I—this isn’t right—but I thought that meant he just didn’t care.”
I remember, very specifically, that Steve interrupted me and said he’d been very busy and I couldn’t expect his undivided attention all of the time.
Since then, I’ve always been really hesitant to call or text Steve. I never want to bother him. It’s gotten to a fault. I like to think I’ve gotten partially beyond it.
I talked to Mrs. Kuiken about how I think it’s completely unfair that I am the only one not getting to go to Europe with the junior/senior class. She was apparently unaware that I couldn’t afford it, and we got to talking for about a half hour on how the system is broken and favors kids who can already afford the trip.
Basically, she told me to write a letter to the board.
She’s changing school policy.
In case you haven’t been following me for a while, I would like to tell you that I am a born again Christian. I absolutely love God. I guess you could say that’s my “view on religion”, that I love God. Not really a view. Huh.
Him>I. I actually mean that.
Drugs—I’m obviously against them, even marijuana. They seem pointless, and according to Scripture, we need not be drunk with something in order to be fulfilled. We don’t have to be under the influence of anything as Christians living out our Biblical promises.
Alcohol—same story, different results. I’m one of those few Christians who takes a hard-line stance against alcohol; I won’t pretend that it’s “acceptable” or “not technically outlawed in the Bible”, but I will simply say—SORRY IF I’M STEPPING ON TOES HERE!—that why even dabble in something simply because it is technically acceptable? Not everything lawful is good and righteous. Again, not everything lawful is good and righteous. Just because our present church moves toward the embracing of alcohol does not make it any more acceptable in my mind, just as the certain denomination’s acceptance of homosexuality does not make that a bit more acceptable in my mind! The Bible says clearly that we are not supposed to be under the influence of anything. We don’t need to be. We can get drunk in the Spirit. So, fine, if you want to have your sip of wine on Christmas and Easter and tell me off for being legalistic, narrow-minded, and prehistoric in mindset, then that’s all right. You can go on believing that just because nobody is telling you not to do it makes it acceptable. That is your life, and your decision. Personally, I prefer NOT to toy with the devil.
- Graduated from college with a master’s degree
- In a stable job
- In a FANTASTIC relationship with God
- Hopefully in some sort of ministry position
- Here, meaning the Central Coast, or somewhere big like Seattle
- (about to contradict my earlier post) In a committed relationship. I’d either like to be one who swears off relationships or only has one really good relationship. That might not follow a path of logic, but oh well. I hope by this point at least somebody is mildly interested in me—I’ll be 26, for heaven’s sake
I’m not presently in a relationship, nor do I plan to be in one for quite some time.
Single life is quite nice. I know a lot of my peers are desperate for relationships and turning to their classmates for love and support—sorry, I just know better (especially now) then to do something like that.
One time, I told somebody that I thought I could imagine myself loving them. It didn’t turn out well. That’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to something akin to a “relationship”.
When I was little, I wanted to have ten kids and be awesome like that. Now, I don’t even know if I want to get married. I’ve just been thinking more and more about how I don’t want to enter that whole area of life—I’d rather not end up like my parents.