I am Christian

I am not Christan because it’s cool. I am Christian because I love God and Jesus and because the Holy Spirit moves inside me. I don’t want to force my beliefs on to you. I want to share them because I know they are powerful and real and because Jesus saves. I don’t just want to show up to church, I want to be church in the world. To me, being Christ-like doesn’t just mean friendly, or happy or nice. It means looking at the world and doing something to make it better. It means that I will do hard things, and pray hard prayers.  It means I will not always be happy, but it also means I will always know love. I am Christian.

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On traveling

I got to go through a full-body scan at the airport today.

I’d like to think the TSA guy was all, “Now THAT girl looks like the kind of girl who could either be a super hero or a super villain, depending on her ambitions. So cool. She needs a scan.”

But I kind of think he instead was thinking, “Now THAT girl looks like she is too confused and scared to opt out. So lame. She needs a scan.”

I’m in Atlanta for a couple days for a candy convention (see: job, sweet), but the last time I flew, Ricky Martin was in the closet, 3 ounces of liquid meant a shot of hard liquor, and metal detectors were as intrusive as it got.

I was a little nervous about the whole thing and seeing as how I wear all my emotions on my face, I’m sure the TSA guy could tell I was an easy target. So over to the full body scan I went.

I’m not sure if it would have more or less classy for me to opt for the full-body pat down, but I decided to go with the flow and let them take a naked picture of me instead.

It’s for America after all.

Would it be too gross if I wrote right now that I’m wondering if they could see that I was wearing a tampon? Oh. It would be? Too late.

Hey, somebody had to ask the question.

Anyway, luckily, I passed and got to put my shoes back on.

The flight itself was rather uneventful, except for the fact that it still amazes me that people can fly.

WHEEEEE!!! Look at the houses!!! They look like toys!!!!!! WHEEEE!!!! We’re above the clouds!!! THIS IS AMAZING!!!! WHEEEE!!!

Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes. The flight. Uneventful, etc, etc. I’m also staying in a super amazing hotel, with a circle window and view of the downtown that includes the CNN Center. (A little part of my news soul is intensely impressed by that).

It’s all very exciting.

But, ok. Can I be honest? (Aside from the tampon comment).  I had to miss the high school youth group at my church tonight, and my heart is actually a little broken because of it.

One of the parent leaders called and left me a voicemail to tell me that it all went fine and that the youth did not burn down our church tent or anything. But, when I was listening to it, I teared up because I was so sad that I couldn’t be there.

I love every single one of those kids so much.

Ever. Single. One.

With all my heart and soul and spirit.

And so even though I’m in hotlanta enjoying the 60-degree days, and the view of the CNN Center, I secretly have spent more time than is healthy wishing I was in an old farm house with a bunch of teenagers tonight eating pizza.

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If you need me, I’ll be at Lifetime.

I joined Lifetime. And by that, I do NOT  mean “The TV network that runs Will and Grace episodes and awesomely corny movies 24 hours a day” but rather, “The really expensive 24-hour gym by my house.”

Dudes, I’m more addicted to this place than my car is to gas.

The first rule of Lifetime is that when you go there, and you have to text someone that you’re there, you always say you’re at “Lifetime” instead of “the gym” because “Lifetime” makes it very clear that you are either a. cooler than them if they don’t go there, or b. as cool as they are if they go there.

The second rule of Lifetime is that even though it is 24 hours, all the aforementioned cool people go there at the exact same time. 5:15 p.m.  It usually takes me about 12 minutes of driving around to find an empty spot. Not a close spot. Just an empty one. It’s totally worth it though.

The third rule of Lifetime is that it’s awesome.

Wait, that’s not a rule.

Whatever. It’s awesome.

They have a hot tub, and a lap pool and a steam room with menthol steam, and all the white towels your heart could ever desire, and so I’ve started using all of those things.


(Can a youth director say the word “religiously” like that, all out of context?)

(Eh, only like three people from church read my blog and I don’t think they’ll mind).

(Hi Rachel! Hi Ralph! Hi Karen!)

Anyway, so ya, I’ve gotten pretty good at the whole swimming thing. I feel like I need to spend most of my time in the pool, because for $60 a month, using just the elliptical would be a huge ripoff.

(Yes, dues are $60 a month).

(Because they are, and because they have a hot tub and a lap pool and a steam room with menthol steam and all the white towels your heart could ever desire).

Right now I would like to brag about the fact that I can swim 20 laps.

Laps as in “there and back” is one. So that’s 40 lengths.

And I wasn’t even very tired when I did that today.

Also, one of the kids in the youth group is like a dolphin or Michael Phelps or something (Hi Chris!), so he explained to me how to do the flip at the end of each length, so I can just swim continuously. The other day, while wearing my goggles, ear plugs and nose plug, my roommate watched me do the flip and she said it looked mostly right, so if you were worried I looked dumb while swimming, you’re wrong. I just look super cool.

My goal is to get up to 32 laps, which would be a mile. I’m pretty sure I can do that, because as they say at this magical place “I can do it all in My LIFETIME.”

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