When I Fell in Love

We had just sat through a lecture on “The Problem of Evil and Suffering” presented by Mr. John Stonestreet. The lesson addressed the question “If your God is such a good God, why does he let bad things happen?” By the end of the speech we really didn’t have a good answer. I felt like he had just left us hanging. The girl who sat behind me, Barbara, was in tears. Most everyone left to go enjoy their hour of free time before small group. Barbara didn’t move. I came and sat next to her, put my arm around her and prayed. Matt sat on the other side of her and held her hand, praying for comfort. She murmured a few words over her tears. About half an hour later she gave us all hugs and thanked us for being there for her. She left with her friend to enjoy the remains of free time. Ashley, Matt and I got up and left the auditorium. He held the door for the two of us ladies and we chatted as we walked across the dark parking lot. About halfway to the Student Life Center, I noticed that Matt was no longer walking with us. I stopped and looked around. I saw a silhouette sitting, head in hands, on a park bench under a tree. I told Ashley I would catch up with her later, and she nodded understandingly. I walked back to the bench. As I approached, the young man sitting there looked up at me, his face soaked with tears. Without a word, I sat down next to him. I put my hand on his right shoulder and laid my head on his other. He reached for my hand, held it in his, and continued to cry.

“Dear Lord,” I prayed silently, “I don’t know what’s going on with Matt right now. I don’t know what I can say or do to help him. Please hold him. Let him know how much you love him and that you are there for him. Please comfort him right now. Help him work through whatever it is that he’s dealing with. Amen.”
I continued lay on his shoulder, not knowing what to say, so I said nothing. Sometimes it means more than anything in the world just to know that you are not alone. Several minutes went by. Ten, maybe? Possibly fifteen. After drying some tears and taking a breath, he began to talk. He told me what he was dealing with, struggling with, fighting against, afraid of, and running from. He poured out his heart to me. I said nothing. What could I say to that? He told me about how the lecture that night had not helped him, but made him doubt that which he had always accepted. How he was fighting, struggling, and crying for answers. I spoke. I told him I understood what he was saying, and really didn’t have any insightful words of advice because I was in more-or-less the same place. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. I could hear his heart beat. I could feel him breathing. His tears fell from his face to mine. I gently held him, my hand on his arm. I began to cry. No, I could not cry. That wouldn’t help him at all. He glanced down at his dark blue watch. We were quite late for small group. We had been sitting there for over an hour. He released me, stood up, and offered me his hand. We walked up the long white sidewalk, hand in hand, until the sidewalk split… the right path going towards the girls’ dorms, and the left path to the guys. This is where, for that evening, our paths parted. He turned and looked at me. He said I was a wonderful listener, and that that meant more to him than anything in the world. He gave me a hug, telling me how glad he was that he met me… that I was amazing and meant so much to him. I felt another tear. This one was mine. I kept myself from crying and managed to tell him how glad I was that God put him in my life. We made a promise to see each other at breakfast the next morning, and then let our fingers slip apart. He went on to his group, and I to mine. That is the night I fell in love.

Feminism and Christianity

Is being a feminist really so bad? I mean, I do not believe that guys should be locked away and let out only for breeding purpouses, but I do believe that women have more rights than we're granted. I frequently hear how feminists are taking over our society, but the fact is I know many more sexist guys than feminist girls. What realy bothers me, though, is that as Christians, girls/women are treated as lesser beings than men. We are told that we cannot be leaders because leading is the guys job. This greatly offends me. I am a leader. I am strong. I have thoughts, oppinions and feelings which I believe to be just as valuable as a guys. We are told that women cannot hold a leadership position... at least not in a religious setting. We are also told that we are to respect men. To the first statment I'd like to say how sick and and insane that is. Take for example, Esther. She saved an entire race of people by standing up, defying social expectations and responding to the voice of God. In todays church (some much more than others) she would be labeled a radical feminist and be snubbed. Also, please look at Ruth. After her husband died she turned down the opportunity to re-marry and be the average socially acceptable woman to follow her mother-in-law and take care of her. When God placed another man in her life, she followed His (that is Gods) voice and "took charge" of the situation. Again, a very feminist thing to do.

On my second statment, women are told to respect men, I agree. The problem I have is that even though the Bible clearly states that men are also supposed to respect and honour women, that point is rarely, if ever, brought out. I find this horribly sexist. So, I belive myself a Christian feminist. I believe God has called me into a possition of leadership and no one has the right to tell me otherwise or persecute me for it.

Random Rant

What is beauty... really? Our culture tells us that it is your figure, flawless skin, loft lips, almond-shaped eyes, a "perfec" nose, delicate feet, shaped legs, dainty hands and cover-photo hair. And, because this is what we're told, we accept it, no questions asked. Girls try to obtain the look described above and guys look for it. Who you are as a person no longer matters (or maybe never did in the first place). It's all physical. This is a very sad thing for those of us who believe in something beyond appearance. Personality, hunour, intellect, talent, spirit. These things are things which cannot be categorized as physical beauty. And, according to society, that which is not simply physical cannot be "beauty." This is quite a sad thing for those of us who are not beautiful according to the worlds standards. No one (no guy anyhow) will take notice of a girl because of her personality or wit. She will be the girl who will graduate high school without ever having had a boyfriend or hearing the words, "hey, I like you." But the ironic beauty in all of this is that someday she will find the guy who lives the way she makes him laugh, treasures her tears, and thinks that she is the most amazing person, not because of what she looks like, but because of who she is.

People

People are quite fascinating. So diverse. The way they talk, dress, walk, eat, listen, and interact with others. There are the people who must always be the center of attention, the athletes, the musicians caught up in the adoration of their fans, the musicians who just love their music, the intellectual, the geek, the kid playing pool alone, the girl who flirts with all the guys, the roommate who knows you better than you know yourself, the cafeteria guy, the tray nazi, the girlie-girl, the talkative person and the prson who would give anything to just disapear. People who will talk to you for hours and the person who will listen to you when you cry. The person who stares out the window at the rain and the person who takes joy in dancing in it. The guy who holds the door for you and the one who lets it slam in your face. The girl who spends an hour on her face and the one who stuffs chap-stick in her pocket. The guy who laughs at you when you walk in, drenched, and the one who has an umbrella and offers to walk you to lunch. There's the person who eats the chicken, the person who eats the salad and the person who eats the jello. There are the people who spend their free time playing soccer with their friends, the people who perfer a board game, some talk on the phone, a few strum their guitars, others go to Wal*Mart or just sit about and read/write. There are early people and late people. Tired people and hyper people. Coffee lovers and coffee haters. Debaters and people-pleasers. Tall people and short people. Thin people and heavy people. People who dress like cheer leaders and people who dress like gypsies. Jocks and hippies, preps and goths. So diverse... so beautiful.