There are some things that feel very permanent right now that I hope won't stay much longer.

I was so little. My head, a shock of dark silky curls, my little hands waving everywhere with eager little fingers, my eyes alight and sparkling with such young innocence, my round belly pronouncing my childhood, and four little white teeth stood neatly in a row at the front of my bottom jaw like the gate of a white picket fence. I couldnt stick out my tongue without spitting, and laughed like a drunk person.

I'm leaning over my gifts, caressing them like cats, that Teema hands to me from under the tree, hugging them in pure joy. I run and throw my little arms around Jad's neck thanking him through giggles. He grins over my shoulder. Somehow he loves me so much even though I give him nothing.

In my ballet class I'm a fire cracker let go inside. I prance, gallop, leap, twirl, endlessly and you can see on my face its exactly what I want to be doing. But I did the dances, with precision. I was one of the best in my class...I always have been. And I'm grateful to God for it. I crash stop into my teacher's lap and my pink tutu suddenly becomes a half moon.

Then I was 5. I'm quieter now but you can see the bright activity still pulsating behind my eyes, something jumping under my skin. I dance everywhere.
6 years old, everything was an ecstatic explosion, everything an uncontainable delight. I look like a wriggling star fish as I eat my birthday cake.

Even back then James and I were best friends in an unspoken but immovable way.

8 years old. Didn't I ever think of anyone but myself? I'm not old enough to think about the way I look yet but I'm old enough to know how to get attention.

I've been watching home videos....some of them are treasure troves of happiness. Others...just because I'm the youngest do I have to be this way?

I found a paper today, lying on my desk. I dont know what it was for but it had all these virtues on it, and definitions of them along with Bible verse references for each. Truthfulness, self-control, sensitivity, compassion, dependability, forgiveness...so many more. I was put to such shame. I couldn't say that I was one of them. And I call myself a Christian?

I'm overwhelmed by it. I'm all-consumed. I'm biting my nails. It says,

LOVE vs. Selfishness - giving to others' basic needs without having personal reward as my motive.
LOYALTY vs. Unfaithfulness - Using difficult times to demonstrate my commitment to God and to those whom He has called me to serve.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails" - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

What do I do to call myself a Christian?

I was reading Summer's blog today. She quoted this man, and I'm going to requote it here:

"I've taken some heat over the years for the commentary on living the Christian life that I often weave into my seminars on youth culture. I get that "you're nuts!" look from many in the audience when I complain about the false notions of what it means to live under the Lordship of Christ that we so easily pass on to our young people. "Come to Jesus and your life will be so much better – even perfect" is a message I remember hearing when I was younger. Sadly, we still preach this imbalanced notion. As I've gotten older, I realize it really hasn't worked out that way at all. Yes, I have peace and hope. I find great joy in the assurance that my life has been bought and secured at a great price. But I often feel helpless, miserable, and anything but happy. The way I sometimes state it is this: "I came to faith years ago. But when I look in the mirror I think I'm a more miserable person now than I ever was. There's something about the connection between growing in faith and seeing more and more of my spiritual darkness exposed by the Light that leaves me feeling miserable." I'm not sure how to explain it any other way. Perhaps the more I ponder Christ, the less likely I am able to think of myself more highly than I ought. Grace becomes amazingly real. I find I'm in good company when I read the Psalms and see my mood reflected in the psalmist's words of lament. I'm forced to remember that Jesus invites his followers to "take up your cross and follow" rather than "put on your happy dancing shoes and let's go dancing." In the March 2005 edition of Christianity Today, interviewer Mark Galli asked Eugene Peterson – one of my favorite writers – for his thoughts on Christian spirituality. Galli said to Peterson, "Many people assume that spirituality is about becoming emotionally intimate with God." I think Galli's statement hit on a hugely erroneous notion that's at the root of our misconceptions about what life will be like when we "come to Jesus." I love Peterson's response: "The promise of intimacy is both right and wrong. There is an intimacy with God, but it's like any other intimacy; it's part of the fabric of your life. In marriage you don't feel intimate most of the time. Nor with a friend. Intimacy isn't primarily a mystical emotion. It's a way of life, a life of openness, honesty, transparency." Peterson goes on. "If you read the saints, they're pretty ordinary people. There are moments of rapture and ecstasy, but once every 10 years. And even then it's a surprise to them. They didn't do anything. We've got to disabuse people of these illusions of what the Christian life is. It's a wonderful life, but it's not wonderful in the way a lot of people want it to be." Perhaps that's a message we need to trumpet quite a bit more."

Its so true. Knowing God is not a feel-good solution, its not a fuzzy peachy feeling that makes us giggle and blush. The more we know Christ, the more we see how we pale in comparison, how short we fall of God's glory, how justly we deserve what Jesus endured for us. I find myself tearing at this old flesh of mine, wanting to crucify my sin. I'm running with my arms full of regrets and guilt, where do we put these? I know where, but I cant believe it. What does He want with me?

I think I'll struggle with this all my life. When I first felt it, I thought there was something wrong with me. Like I was bound for hell because I didnt always felt breath-taken-away in love with God. And I'll have to keep reminding myself what He's taught me these past two years. I keep coming back to this feeling though, of sinfulness. Of unworthiness before God. And I think I always should know it. But the more I get to know Him, the more at peace I am with the hope He gives.

I was a sinner before I even knew it. While I watched those movies a subtle sense of dread started seeping over me...I am who I was. That soul-thing, it is me. My family chuckled at me parading a new hair clip around the living room on christmas eve, but I was noticing Jad in the background putting a book down that he had just unwrapped and wanted to read from to us.
Why hadn't I noticed then?

The home videos are just a tidbit of the feeling. But my whole self...I see more clearly now. What just seemed habits...my unkind words suddenly have a frightening link to the toy I grabbed out of another child's hands when I was little. And I start to realize I cant just grow out of sin.

"I'm a terrible person and there's no way out of it" A friend and I shared that feeling a bit ago. This may make our God sound heartless, but I think its what He wants me to realize. That there is no way out of my sinfulness and no solution to my depravity except His Son. My bridegroom. A heartless God wouldnt have provided that salvation. Not for a wretch like me. Not with His blameless Son.

What do I do to call myself a Christian? I fall on my knees and repent. And Jesus does the rest.