A Curious Girl: Heaven knows

Why do I like writing to an on-line diary? I surely don't know.

Chris is in her cynical phase, going on about how everything is boring, like our sketch for the Advent evening on the 1st. What else did I do on Friday? I handed my essay in, I worked on stuff, I did my lessons. Nothing very memorable. GB wasn't all that interesting, other than Chris being cynical.

Ooh I hate it when I missed an entry and the day is abbrieviated by memory loss.

We're going to see Hopes and Dreams next week, which means I will hear Chris sing and watch the play thing her dad's in. Ooh, that looked tacky. I am not in it. Hopes and Dreams in 'A musical for the Millennium' but personally I think it sounds rather cliche.

Yesterday I went up the hospital as usual, had a good day and did my whole 4 hours. Sapiah was in charge for the day so it was nice, being given decent jobs to do and having her extremely grateful, not taking me for granted. I didn't get to see Gizmo (Amy's horse), because Grandad probably forgot he'd said I could, and picked me up late. So I 'babysat' and ate too much pizza (oddly enough, they had pizza at home as well) and too much ice-cream, and I'm feeling fat, but who cares. I don't really.

It was fun babysitting, even if we only watched TV. In the morning I was woken up briefly by Amy (going to the stables, I'd guess) and then woke up at half nine. I got dressed slowly and Grandad called me idle, slightly unfairly I thought, as he didn't know that I've been tired all this week, and I *had* been minding his kids till gone midnight. He'd said he would take me back at ten, but he'd obvously forgotten this. He made me a nice breakfast, I luckily missed the morning service (because I'd rather go to the evening one) and then he started plumbing his pipes. After a bit, I got impatient, and tried to come up with a non-offending version of "Take me home" that I didn't feel too embarrassed to say.

One of the parents phoned up, and I thought "At last!" and then he said, "Apparently I was supposed to take you home at ten."

"That *is* what you said."

This man would be late to his own funeral, if he could manage it.

"Well, you only got up at ten."

That annoyed me. That's hardly an excuse!

I didn't mind not getting back by ten, but at half eleven, seeing him still plumbing, I was getting annoyed.

"What's happening then?"

"I'm taking you back at three."

THREE? No way, matie. I could have *cried*. Hanging around with nothing to do but watch TV and play with Alex's 'Hexwheeler' until three, when I should have been home by, say, eleven.

"Or would you rather go now?"

"I'd really rather go now."

Besides, I knew Grandma and Jim would be coming 'round, and Nicky would be at home. Oh, it would be nice back home.

So, thank you Jesus, I got back home by about 12.

It seems really childish, thinking about it, but it seemed I had been doing him a favour, and then he goes and flouts it, not taking me home on time.

It just seemed that lovely, generous Grandad was being a right pain in the neck. Being late for everything and talking endlessly when I'm not listening.

It must be a trait of my family, becuase sadly I talk like that as well. So I shouldn't be too hard on him.

He gave me Ł20, which I wouldn't have asked for, because of feeding me and letting me come round whenever I like. I wouldn't have even thought of it if everyone else hadn't said, "Oh, are you getting paid?"

I've finished the whole of Nicky's diary. I've also taken the personality test on theSpark.com. It was fairly accurate. According to the Spark I am a dreamer. Far too damn true.

I am probably going to miss Church tonight. I hate missing Church, and by that I mean, not going on a Sunday. I'm meant to be doing Christian Union on Tuesday. You see, I missed one because I was ill and one because Clive told me to go around Grandad's and he'd give me a lift home. As it turns out, I didn't need to do that because Stephen was home early anyway. Clive said to me today, "Are you going to CU on Tuesday?" and I said yes, and he shook his head in a patronising way which implied that it was for my own good that I wasn't. He explained why (carpenter coming around or something) and I practically exploded.

"Do you mind?" he said, and I said, "I do mind!" All the stress through being annoyed with Grandad eruptd and I really did cry this time. Doesn't matter, because Mum was going to be home anyway. I hate the way he assumes my commitments aren't worth anything.

I've been thinking a lot lately about putting God in a box. By this I mean when people put limits on the relationship - you can have my time, but not my money; I'll leave my job for you, but I won't move abroad; you can only act through certain rituals and only in the way I tell you. See what I mean? It's something I'm afraid of doing.

But I thought of another way of putting it. Selling points. Positive things, as well as negative things. Oh, Christianity.

It will solve everything.

It will make you happy all the time.

It will take away all your worries.

It will make you perfect.

But it doesn't. Not straight away, anyway. God can only work through selected media, according to some people, and Christianity only does certain things, most of which it really doesn't do in real life.

OK, so after establishing the point that it doesn't solve everything, make you happy eternally, remove your worries or make you perfect, what does make it so good?

Well, for a start you're forgiven. You don't need to see a priest every month, or something, and say five million Hail Marys, although you can if i makes you feel any better. You don't have to throw breadcrumbs into a river. Your debt is cleared. Your guilt removed. Ask God for forgiveness, and he will give it to you, because Jesus already died for that stuff. It's over, done. Friends, peers, family, colleagues, may not forgive you, but let's face it, their bitterness is hurting them as much as it hurts you. And you can always talk to God about it.

So after forgiveness, there's the freedom to change. you're not tied back by that stuff, so with God's help you can become a better person.

And then, best of all, there's a closeness. How do I describe it? Call me wakko but I love Jesus. I notice things I didn't notice before and think, wow, God loves me. God loves everyone. That's why there are so many wonderful things in this world. And he helps me through hard things, and makes good things even better, and takes away the pain of guilt, which is possibly the worst feeling ever.

Does this sound realistic to you? Maybe it doesn't. But I pray that it does.

My friends have problems with guilt, and jeez I wish that I *could* put God in a box. And wrap it up, and stick on a tag, and give him to them for Christmas. But I'm not the giver, merely the medium. I'm just the one who passes the message on.

What are my words sounding like? Paul D, an atheist I conversed with over e-mail once cut up a passage I had written to him into 'line', 'hook' and 'bait'. Amusing really. "I will make you fishers of men."

Humans that is, I'm not a sex maniac.

Bruce Olson put up with his family rowing and making trouble for him as a Christian and he didn't stop. There must have been something in it. A girl got shot in Columbine high school when she admitted she believed in God. Evil is strong. I don't know if I believe in the Devil, as such, but I know that evil will try to get in wherever there's an above average amount of good. Still, good is stronger.

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