These are just some general observations I’ve made in my nineteen years, numerated while daydreaming at a hotel on the beach.
- Positivity can never hurt, but negativity drags down. Makes your heart heavy.
- Sometimes rock bottom is the greatest blessing in disguise. Trust God’s plot twists.
- There’s no worry that the ocean can’t cure, or at least curb. I feel like the ocean is giving the coastline a big hug.
- Admitting you’re wrong hurts, but it’s the kind of hurt that paves the way for healing.
- Adoration heals.
- As much as I love music, there’s just something about silence that’s divine.
- We are all living breathing stories. Leaving our marks on each other. Altering each other’s endings.
- Never take your family for granted.
- Your worst worry will probably never happen. If it does, pray. Always pray, in fact. I need to pray more.
- Get up early for sunrises and stay up late for stars. Admire more.
- Politics change with the times, but humanity has been around since humans and will remain with us.
- No earthly relationship will ever define your worth.
- Your conscience should permeate everything. Actions follow from words and beliefs, and without them said beliefs are meaningless.
- Drink water.
- Tell people how you feel
- God has surprises in store, don’t despair.
- Be authentic. Be Christlike.
A law was recently passed in Iowa banning churches from expressing any sentiment that one could interpret as being anti-LGBT or anti-anyone, really. The reason was ostensibly that these churches receive public money, and therefore the government can restrict their free expression of Christian doctrine.
First: no private organization should be receiving public money. This goes for churches, this goes for Planned Parenthood. It follows from free association.
We normally hear from the Left about how evil Christian Republicans are violating the “wall of separation” between church and state by voting and legislating with their consciences against things like abortion and gay marriage, and for things like religious liberty and free asssociation. This situation in Iowa, however, demonstrates the exact opposite. When the state encroaches on religious beliefs and can determine which are legitimate and which are discriminatory, we have instituted a test for religious expression and practice. If we cannot live, associate, and vote in a way that reflects our faith or lack of it, that stems and proceeds from our conscience, then can we say we have freedom of expression? Should the government be able to regulate what comes from the pulpit?
I’d like to indulge in an extended metaphor, which by the end of this post I’ll probably realize has been done to death before. Like that quote from C.S. Lewis: “I believe in Christianity as I believe the sun has risen… Not only because I see it but because by it I see everything else.” Here we go…
My faith is like this old pair of glasses sitting atop my nose. It helps me see, making those faraway objects and unintelligible blurs a bit easier to make out. Sometimes the lenses are so close to me that I forget they exist, then I take them off and wonder why the world has gone away.
Sometimes I neglect them; I let them get too dusty and dirty, covered in the day’s waste until I wonder what are these strange specks on my eyes?
Some people use glasses for an accessory, or only need them at night or while driving or in the sun. That’s their decision. But I will always need mine. Sure, I guess I could go without this burdensome piece of plastic on my face. But then someone (probably me, let’s be honest) would get hurt.
My mom always suggests that I try contact lenses, yet I never do. I’ve been wearing glasses my whole life, ever since they found a pair small enough to fit on my tiny baby head, and I feel that they have become part of my personality. This might be an irrational thought, but they also accentuate my stereotypical bespectacled nerdiness). The point is, I wouldn’t be who I am without my eyesight so poor that I need these frames. Yeah, I could get laser surgery and get everything fixed, but that’d take away their symbolic significance for me.
I could go get some atheist catechesis and never look back, but that would only take away the effect of the problem. I need help. I need God. I am imperfect. No, I can’t read that sign thirty feet away. I can’t predict all the challenges I will face in life.
But I can do the best that I can.
I’d like to take back a word that society has hijacked. Take back a word that is only used in a stressful, specific romantic framework. And I know Frozen was supposed to shatter our notions. But why is it awkward for me, a heterosexual female, to say “I love you” to my male friends and not to the female ones?
Loving someone means you want the best for him or her and you will support him or her. Love means you will sacrifice. It’s not always romantic. Our loose society has amped up the moments during which you say these words. Let’s take back the words and feel free to say “I love you” to our friends.