suddenly questioned whether I’m a very good Christian or not. I could tell that I was starting to get depressed and all heavy, but instead of giving in to it, the way I used to do, I took a walk during lunch and just talked it all out with God. And by fifth period I felt better. The next day I told Laura about the whole thing and asked if she ever felt like that.
“Oh, yeah,” she said as we walked to the cafeteria. “All the time. I mean, just ’cuz you invite God into your life doesn’t mean your troubles go away. But sometimes people think that, especially right at first, and that can get you down if you let it.”
I waited for her to get a tray. “But why is that? Why should it get us so down?”
“Probably ‘cuz you’re feeling so good at first and you just want to keep feeling like that forever.”
I nodded. “Yeah, and why shouldn’t you?”
She laughed. “Because it’s impossible.”
“Why’s that? I thought God could do anything.” I frowned as I picked up a chef’s salad.
“You mean like keeping you on a constant high—like you’re taking uppers or something?”
“Sort of.” I noticed a cafeteria worker listening to us then, looking all worried as if she thought we were talking about drugs. I smiled at her and said, “Don’t worry, we’re not talking about speed; we’re talking about God.” And she just laughed. So we waited until we were seated to finish this conversation.
“So, are you saying God can’t keep us feeling good all the time?” I asked as I bit into a carrot stick.
“I’m sure He could. But I doubt that He will. Life’s not supposed to be like that—even when you’re a Christian. It’s more like an up-and-down and round-and-round kind of thing, like a roller coaster, you know?” She rolled her eyes up and down dramatically. “You like the roller coaster?”
“Sure.”
“And would you like it if it just went straight like a train?”
I laughed. “Probably not.”
“Maybe life’s supposed to be like that too. Up and down, exciting and challenging and never predictable. Just make sure that it’s God who’s directing your ride.”
I nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”
“We still on to jam this Saturday?”
“Yeah, but I have to quit at five sharp to go baby-sit.”
“That’s cool.”
And so anyway, that helped me put things in a better perspective. Life’s not supposed to be a smooth ride—it’s supposed to be bumpy. Okay, I can handle that. And with people like Tiffany Knight, combined with the guilt trip Allie’s laying on me lately, not to mention the daily teasing that Jake and Cesar and Spencer like to dish out about me turning into a “Jesus Freak” (their favorite nickname for me right now), it does feel a little rocky and bumpy.
Some people might wonder why I don’t drop my slightly freaky friends, especially when they’re giving me grief for my belief. But that’s just the reason: because they are my slightly freaky friends. I really believe I’m supposed to hang in there with them and just be myself. Only now I can actually love them better than before—and even accept them for who they are (drugs and problems and dragon tattoos to boot). I mean, isn’t that what Jesus did for me?
And as I continue to read my redlines in the Bible, I’m finding that He did exactly that same thing with almost everyone. Well, except for some of those cranky old “religious” guys—particularly the scribes and Pharisees who acted as though they were better than everyone else. And I sure don’t want to be like a “religious” person and start acting or thinking I’m better than anyone else, no matter who they are or how they lookor act—even if they’re Tiffany Knight. But I’m starting to realize that not all Christians think like this. And this bugs me.
WHAT’S UP, GOD?
what’s up with looking down on others?
aren’t we all just sisters, brothers?
why make clubs and bands and cliques?
why build walls or pull mean
“Oh, yeah,” she said as we walked to the cafeteria. “All the time. I mean, just ’cuz you invite God into your life doesn’t mean your troubles go away. But sometimes people think that, especially right at first, and that can get you down if you let it.”
I waited for her to get a tray. “But why is that? Why should it get us so down?”
“Probably ‘cuz you’re feeling so good at first and you just want to keep feeling like that forever.”
I nodded. “Yeah, and why shouldn’t you?”
She laughed. “Because it’s impossible.”
“Why’s that? I thought God could do anything.” I frowned as I picked up a chef’s salad.
“You mean like keeping you on a constant high—like you’re taking uppers or something?”
“Sort of.” I noticed a cafeteria worker listening to us then, looking all worried as if she thought we were talking about drugs. I smiled at her and said, “Don’t worry, we’re not talking about speed; we’re talking about God.” And she just laughed. So we waited until we were seated to finish this conversation.
“So, are you saying God can’t keep us feeling good all the time?” I asked as I bit into a carrot stick.
“I’m sure He could. But I doubt that He will. Life’s not supposed to be like that—even when you’re a Christian. It’s more like an up-and-down and round-and-round kind of thing, like a roller coaster, you know?” She rolled her eyes up and down dramatically. “You like the roller coaster?”
“Sure.”
“And would you like it if it just went straight like a train?”
I laughed. “Probably not.”
“Maybe life’s supposed to be like that too. Up and down, exciting and challenging and never predictable. Just make sure that it’s God who’s directing your ride.”
I nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”
“We still on to jam this Saturday?”
“Yeah, but I have to quit at five sharp to go baby-sit.”
“That’s cool.”
And so anyway, that helped me put things in a better perspective. Life’s not supposed to be a smooth ride—it’s supposed to be bumpy. Okay, I can handle that. And with people like Tiffany Knight, combined with the guilt trip Allie’s laying on me lately, not to mention the daily teasing that Jake and Cesar and Spencer like to dish out about me turning into a “Jesus Freak” (their favorite nickname for me right now), it does feel a little rocky and bumpy.
Some people might wonder why I don’t drop my slightly freaky friends, especially when they’re giving me grief for my belief. But that’s just the reason: because they are my slightly freaky friends. I really believe I’m supposed to hang in there with them and just be myself. Only now I can actually love them better than before—and even accept them for who they are (drugs and problems and dragon tattoos to boot). I mean, isn’t that what Jesus did for me?
And as I continue to read my redlines in the Bible, I’m finding that He did exactly that same thing with almost everyone. Well, except for some of those cranky old “religious” guys—particularly the scribes and Pharisees who acted as though they were better than everyone else. And I sure don’t want to be like a “religious” person and start acting or thinking I’m better than anyone else, no matter who they are or how they lookor act—even if they’re Tiffany Knight. But I’m starting to realize that not all Christians think like this. And this bugs me.
WHAT’S UP, GOD?
what’s up with looking down on others?
aren’t we all just sisters, brothers?
why make clubs and bands and cliques?
why build walls or pull mean
Similar Books
