Things I’m convinced of:

God wants me to love as best way I can (my boyfriend, my family, my friends, my neighbor, my enemies, my baristas).

God wants me to enjoy the beauty of his creation (the sun, the rain, the trees, the bugs, the birds, the people).

God thinks I’m great, just great (he loves my quirks, my theories, my interest, my enthusiasm).

God doesn’t want me to be controlled by anything less than me (sin, food, Hollywood, advertising, anxiety).

God delights even in my stumbles (because he knows that I’m trying, dear Lord, I’m trying).

—

As I’ve spent time separating myself from what I consider legalism (i.e. my school, aspects of the Wesleyan denomination), I’m finding myself more in love with God than I’ve ever been.

I’m questioning more than ever: geez, I have no idea if the Bible is infallible or if Paul is even worth listening to. I’m doing more conventionally “bad” things than I’ve ever done. But still, more than ever, I know that God loves me and forgives me and knows that I’m trying to figure things out. Because I am!

What excites me about The Seattle School is its openness, its willingness to ask why. Instead of separating itself from culture like IWU tends to do, it engages it. Students are taught to see things from other perspectives, other standpoints. I know I can bring my questions there and I’ll be able to wrestle with them without feeling guilty or un-Christian.

I’ve already experienced that. In the two days I spent at the school, I never once felt judged or less of a person/Christian/woman. I was listened to, and loved. Loved!

I wrote on Molly’s wall that I have the worst senioritis ever — I’m Seattle-bound. More than that, I’m ready to embark on a spiritual journey. I don’t mean that in a silly way either: I’m about to leave my Midwest home, my family, my lovely boyfriend, my free rent, to live by myself thousands of miles away. I’m going to be at a school with a different view of spirituality than I’ve experienced here. I’m going to be around more ethnicities. I’m going to be so lonely and scared and empty.

But it’ll be so good.

(Broken, and then you will be made whole. – God, circa 2005)

March 9, 2012

Posted in Nonfiction.