I don’t know what this blog post will be about. I don’t have a topic. But what I do know is that I have a lot on my mind. Good stuff, mostly.
Faith is such a glorious thing to have. I wish that I could be totally faithful that there’s a God out there who loves me and will protect me no matter what. I mean, I’ve started to believe again more recently, but I can’t seem to find the overwhelming faith that comes to some people so naturally. I wasn’t really raised in a religious home. I lived with a single mother who worked 40 hours a week, and somehow we just weren’t connected with God. We didn’t go to church unless it was a holiday or some of our more religious family were visiting. But then suddenly, a year before my mom died, she thrust my sister and I into church every Sunday. I can’t blame her for wanting to know God before her judgement day came, but I couldn’t find the same motivation. Now, I go to church every weekend, whether it’s on Saturday evening or Sunday morning. I feel closer to God, but not like I really trust him. He doesn’t know me.
My sister drives me insane, like any younger sibling should. The thing that makes me dislike her the most is that she will never give up an argument. No matter how wrong she is, she will not accept defeat. I even told her that she argues with everything, and she replied with a very mature, “Nuh uh!” I just hope one day she realizes that she is not the only person on this planet with feelings.
I like relationships where you don’t have to be anything but yourself. Where everything is just… accepted for what it is.