Scaredy-Christian

            If I were a dog, I think I would be Scooby-Doo. I know, I know. Who watches Scooby-Doo anymore? Well, that doesn’t matter. The point is that I identify with him. Why? Because we are both scaredy-cats (how ironic).

            I always like to believe that I’m brave, courageous, willing to take anything on. I don’t want a knight in shining armor. I want to have my own shield and sword to protect myself.

            Lately, though, I’ve realized that I’ve been deluding myself. I get scared really easily, actually. For example, I went to see a scary movie with some friends. Afterwards, I was so scared that I accidentally hit my friend. (In my defense, she shouldn’t have sneaked up behind me!)

            Okay, I’m going to be serious now. I’ve been really afraid of the future as of late. Now that I’m getting older, I’m feeling overwhelmed by everything I have to do. There are so many fears and questions in my mind that I’m not ready to face.

Am I ready for graduation? Am I 100% positive I want to continue my education? What if I’m choosing to study the wrong thing? Am I ready to be a real “adult?”

Sometimes, as these questions swell up in my brain, I want to cry. I wish I wasn’t Scooby-doo. I wish I could charge full speed ahead on my sturdy steed and battle the menacing dragon. Instead, I just feel like a coward.

As a Christian, I know I should have more faith in God. That was my New Year’s resolution, after all. He knows the answers to all of my self-doubting questions. I know He has faith in me.

I guess I won’t know unless I just take a step forward and try, with God by my side, of course. He needs to lead me by the leash. He needs to be my sturdy steed. That’s the only way I can get past these irrational (and annoying) fears.

Let’s see what happens.

To Date or Not to Date a Non-Christian

            One big topic with Christian teens is whether or not to date non-Christians. There are many reasons why any Christian worries about dating a non-Christian, such as disagreements over moral values, differences in future plans, etc. Many think marriages are doomed when the couple isn’t the same religion, the main reason usually being raising kids.

When it comes to teens, though, the differences might seem frivolous. We’re not planning on getting married, so what’s the harm in dating a non-Christian?

Well, recently, one of my friends’ atheist best friends went through a break up with her Christian boyfriend. Since they were together for a few years, my friend thought they overcame their religious differences, but in the end it still got to them.

Here’s my take on the subject.

There was one specific non-Christian guy I dated. I remember turning him down the first few times he asked me out because of our religious differences. I just thought that our relationship would have no future because of it.

Looking back, I know I was right.

Don’t get me wrong. He was a good guy and I don’t regret our relationship at all. In fact, we ended up dating for quite a long time. We were very happy at first. For a while there, it seemed like our religious differences didn’t matter. We loved each other and respected each others beliefs and that was all we needed to know.

But no matter how we hard we tried, our religious differences got in the way.

I remember days when all we’d do was just sit and debate our religious differences. Sometimes I’d even get seriously offended. None of the arguments were ever resolved and they always ended the same way.

“Let’s change the subject.”

Our relationship simply wasn’t going to go anywhere unless one of us was willing to step back from our beliefs for the sake of the relationship. I don’t know if he would have, but I knew that wasn’t going to be me.

Maybe we were both just being stubborn. Maybe I could have brought him to Jesus. Maybe not. All I know was that our religious differences opened my eyes to all of the other differences that we had as a result. Soon enough, I realized that things were going downhill fast.

Still, I feared letting him go. What if no one else loved me the way he did? He was the first guy I ever loved. Could I ever love anyone else that way again?

We eventually did break up. As difficult and heart aching as it was, though, we were both happier in the long run. I prayed that God would bring each of us the person He had in mind for us and just left it in God’s hands.

Let me just say I don’t believe all non-Christian and Christian relationships are doomed. In fact, I have another Christian friend who brought her boyfriend to Jesus. Perhaps I could’ve converted my ex-boyfriend likewise. But I don’t think anyone should go into a relationship planning on changing the other person, no matter what needs changing. The person should want to change on his or her own and that’s difficult to achieve. Unless someone is willing to put all of that time, effort, and faith in, it’s not going to work out.

Personally, I wasn’t ready for that.

Still, I don’t think the relationship was a waste. We both learned to love and learned what it was like to date someone from a different religious background. I know I cleared up many Christian misconceptions he had, and I pray that perhaps that softened his heart enough so someone else in the future could bring him to Jesus.

All right, here’s my last two cents and then I’ll shut up.

Dating is a fun time to get to know each other, perhaps even leading to a first love. But with all of the differences that already come within relationships, religious ones just make things more difficult. Two Christians may disagree on the kind of music they like, but a Christian and non-Christian could disagree on how to respect parents, what’s appropriate on a date physical-wise, whether or not drinking is okay, etc.

I just think dating a Christian removes one more difference, hopefully leaving space for a little more fun.

For me, I’ve had the experience of dating a non-Christian and even though I don’t regret the relationship, I’ve learned I’d rather only date Christians. When I get married someday, I don’t want to deal with religious differences on top of everything else. My parents were both Christian and still divorced, so why add to that? Maybe someone else with a higher level of patience, respect, and work ethic can, and I say all power to them, but it’s just not for me. I’d rather just continue praying to God for a good Christian guy.

Oh, actually, guess what? God has already begun to answer that prayer.

God as My Magic Eight Ball

            Sometimes I just feel lost. I mean, Hansel and Gretel in the woods lost, without a breadcrumb trail leading me anywhere. Not to my house and especially not my future.

I think about the future and all I see is a fuzzy image of myself nowhere in particular, like trying to watch TV while there’s a thunderstorm and the image is too full of static to see clearly. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I don’t know what I’m going to do next. Will I keep studying? Will I do something else? Who knows?

There’s a lot of pressure on teenagers that revolve around the same question: What are you going to do with your life?

I’ve tried to answer that question several different ways.  Honestly, I have. One day I say I want to keep studying until I’m either sick of academia or can’t afford it any more. Another day I decide I just want to dive into the real world and get a job. Then still another day I get fed up with both options and think about doing something more meaningful, like joining the military or the Peace Corps.

No matter what day, though, if someone asked me that infamous question, “What are you going to do with your life?” I always had an answer. But lately, it’s gotten worse. I’ve been changing ideas two to three times a day. One morning I’ll wake up deciding I want to keep studying and later go to bed deciding I want to go into a specific career. The next morning, I’ll decide on something else.

It’s been difficult for me to accept this, but the truth is that I’ve been answering that question incorrectly.

The true answer is this: I just don’t know.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. I know I want to be a writer, I know someday I want to settle down and have a family, but I don’t know when either of those is going to happen. I don’t know what will happen in between or which will come first. I don’t know if I’ll keep studying and start my writing career at the same time. I don’t know if I’ll go off to the Peace Corps and get married the moment I come back. I won’t even mention my other dreams, like traveling the world.

I simply don’t know.

The uncertainty has been eating me up inside. I’ve always been an organized person, using a planner in school for my homework, shelving my books on my bookshelf according to genre, etc. So the fact that I can’t organize my future has been driving me crazy, sometimes to the point of tears. Not only do I not know what to do with my life, it’s like I don’t know what to do with myself until I figure it out.

I’ve realized something, though. I may not know my future, but God does.

At church this past Sunday, the pastor gave a message on how we shouldn’t rely on magic eight balls to help us make our decisions, but that we should instead turn to the Bible. I’ve taken this up a notch and decided that I shouldn’t be looking at magic eight balls at all (not that I have been). Magic eight balls don’t know what my future holds. In fact, no one knows what my future holds, not even myself.

But God does.

It’s taken me a while to take comfort in that fact. God knows what I’m going to do with my life. God knows what the future holds. God simply knows, in a way that I won’t until the time comes.

And He’s going to get me there, somehow.

Instead of pulling out my hair over what to do with my life, then, I think I should just turn to God. After all, He’s the one who knows where I’m ultimately going to end up. Perhaps I should just be patient and meditate in Him, throwing aside the magic eight balls in my life and instead grabbing God’s hand and trusting that, in the end, God will guide me to where I need to go.

Besides, God makes a much better magic eight ball anyways. 

The Bad Luck Coaster

            Most Christians generally don’t believe in luck or bad luck. They believe everything happens for a reason, whether it’s good or bad. Personally, I’ve always agreed with this consensus.

            Until recently.

            Lately, I’ve been having the longest and strangest string of bad luck I’ve ever encountered in my life. For the past couple of weeks it’s been either extreme bad luck or extreme good luck. The switch between the two has been incredibly harsh.

Honestly, it’s like a roller coaster going as high as it possibly can before plummeting down at an almost ninety degree drop, going lower than where the ride first started, before starting the cycle all over, going higher and lower with each twist and turn.

Anyone would need motion sickness pills after that.

My days will start out good, keep getting better, and then drop down to bad and then the worst. Then the next day, it’s vice versa. There’s just no logical reason as to why. The good luck has involved everything from my school, to my friends, to my job. The bad luck has as well. It’s been bewildering.

I know it doesn’t sound like a big deal, just everyday runs of good or bad luck, so let me explain why I’m writing this.

Just today, the roller coaster plummeted farther than it ever had before. It went down so quickly and so low that my health suffered.

Literally.

Suddenly, my good luck part of the ride seems to be over and bad luck seems to have taken me on a different ride. And this ride, if I may call it that, has suddenly gotten me to reevaluate my whole “Everything happens for a reason” way of thinking.

Does all this pointless amount of bad luck have a reason?

As a Christian, I feel like I have to say yes. I mean, we’re all part of God’s plan and to believe that what happens in life is random and has no meaning would go against this way of thinking.

But as a teenager going through some very tough times? I think it’s understandable to fear the answer could be no.

And that’s okay.

I’m not denying God has a plan for each and every one of our lives. I’m sure He does and knows the reasons behind each of those moments that seem pointlessly full of bad luck.

But that doesn’t mean I know.

The truth is, life is full of so many moments that it’s hard to see what bad parts can lead to the good. The only one who truly knows the reason why everything happens is, of course, God. But, thankfully, every once in a while we get a little glimpse as well.

Now that I think about it, I had to go through some bad luck at school so my friend and I could both have some good luck. So perhaps the bad luck with my health will lead to something good too.

Even if I don’t know what it is yet.

So maybe, instead of trying to frantically unbuckle myself from the bad luck coaster with tears streaming down my face, I should just sit back, raise my arms in the air, and rest assured that God’s strapped in right there next to me, along for the ride.

Besides, I trust He knows every twist and turn before I do.

Gimme, God, Gimme!

            My grandma told me a little story today. It went somewhere along the lines of this (I adapted it as a writer because…well, I can!)

            There was once this young boy. His parents gave him everything his heart desired. As he grew up, his parents continued giving him absolutely everything just to make him happy, in the hopes that someday their son would be grateful for all that had been given to him. When he was full grown, however, he left his home and never came back.

Why? Because as a boy, he got everything he wanted, but as a man, it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. All of a sudden, everything his parents gave him wasn’t enough and he left in search of more. He never once said thank you to his parents because he never understood how to be grateful. His parents waited for his return in sadness for the rest of their lives.

            After my grandma finished her story, she brought it into perspective.

            “That’s what it’s like with God and us,” she told me (albeit, in Spanish). “We always want God to give us everything we pray for and we don’t understand why He doesn’t sometimes. My story, that’s why. God doesn’t give us everything because He doesn’t want us to become like that little boy.”

            I completely agree with my grandma and her point, but I want to expand on it a little. It’s true; God doesn’t give us everything for a reason. Sometimes it’s because it’s not right for us. Sometimes it’s because He has something better planned for later. There are several reasons.

            It all boils down to this, though: trust.

            As so much else does, it’s all about trusting God. I think it’s important to learn to trust that God is giving us just what is right for us. Not more, not less. Sometimes we hold on to what He has already given us and don’t make space for what He has in store. But if we just trust Him, trust He will give us what we need instead of just all we want, that’s when I think we’re letting God truly take care of us.

            So, instead of acting like a little spoiled kid with a tired parent in a supermarket, grabbing at everything in sight, saying, “Gimme, gimme!” I think I’d rather just trust my parent to pick out what’s best for me.

            God just might surprise me more that way.

Jesus, You're in the Way

           Have you ever seen that meme where a disciple tells Jesus He's in the way and He responds that He is the way? It's pretty funny. Anyways...

            As ashamed as I am to admit it, I’ve said something along these lines. There are times when I’ve put Jesus behind me, trying to find my own way, when I should’ve put Him in front to lead the way instead.

            Here’s an example.

            Lately, I’ve been extremely stressed with, well, everything. There’s too much schoolwork, tough teachers, pressure as to what I’m going to do with my life, family situations to deal with, my own hopes and dreams I ignore, etc. I don’t know how to deal with it all!

            So, when I sit there at my desk, head in my hands, pulling my hair with frustration, while simultaneously hoping I won’t pull it out, it’s almost like this happens:

            Tap. Tap. Tap.

            I shrug away, but the tapping continues. I try to ignore it to no avail. Finally, I turn and address Him.

            “What is it, Jesus?” I ask while motioning to my mounds of stress. “Can’t You see I’m busy?”

            “I can help,” He responds. “That is, if you’d like. Just say the word.”

            I shake my head. “It’s okay, thanks. I’ve got this.” I start to turn back, but am stopped by a hand on my shoulder.

            “Seriously,” He says, “let me help. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

            “Look,” I sigh, “Jesus, you know I love You, but I can figure this all out. If I need help, I’ll come to You, all right?”

            I turn back to everything waiting for me. Tests, projects, and homework. Possible future plans. Parents and siblings. Failed hopes and dreams. My head starts to fall into my hands as I feel all of the stress culminate inside of me.

            Ultimately, I snap.

            Frustrated, I move away from it all, turning to anything that will occupy my mind. Distractions and procrastination. Procrastination and distractions.

            Tap. Tap. Tap.

            There it is again. Like before, I attempt to ignore it, but the tapping doesn’t stop. I sigh.

            “What is it now?” I ask with annoyance.

            “You don’t have it all under control,” He points out. “Please, let me help you.”

            “I can figure it out, Jesus,” I repeat, even though by now I’m questioning whether I really can. There’s so much on my mind! I don’t know where to go with it all, and yet, I can’t admit it. With tears in my eyes, I say, “I’ll find my way.”

            Jesus answers, “I am the way.”

            To be honest, I don’t know why it’s so difficult to let God help me with my stress. It’s almost like I feel I can come to Him with anything, except that. I feel comfortable coming to Him with so much else, like when I’m scared or thankful.

            But not when I’m stressed.

Maybe it all boils down to trust. I need to trust God can help with all of this I’m stressed about. I think He can’t help because what I’m stressed about seems to be all in my control, but it’s not. It’s in God’s.

The result? I end up turning from God, trying to take care of it all myself when God is clearly there waiting to help. He doesn’t want me to stress; He wants me to let Him take care of everything.

Yeah, it’s not easy.

Maybe, though, with some prayer, meditation in His word, and praise, I can get on the right track. I can learn to try my best, but then learn when I’ve reached my limit and have to leave the rest up to God.

Instead of stumbling along blindly with this backpack full of my stress, not sure where to go, I think I’d rather take Jesus’ hand, let Him help carry my stress and lead.

After all, He knows the way much better than I do.

“Jesus answered, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” – John 14:6 (NIV)