What do I know, anyway?
Because I feared that Jesus might make my book unpopular with the non-Jesus set. And I enjoy being popular. (don't tell.)
But, clearly this popularity thing is not important and is most definitely a sin of my GIGANTIC ego and really, who reads my blog anyway? It is not like I am wildly popular.
And avoiding Christ and all things Jesusy was making my writing a lie--a fabrication; because as a friend pointed out:
There is no way I can tell my story without God and Christ and a dose of the Holy Spirit.
Now I find myself writing less about me and more about Him. And in Him, my story is living on and His story is alive and well too. It is precarious because I am constantly worried I might say something blasphemous. I ask a lot of questions and intend on driving religious personnel crazy. I teeter on the edge of being one of those crazies on a street corner shouting about God and Jesus and Heaven and Hell. I fear I might alienate those in my life who are not Christians; but at the same time pray they will understand how my faith and myself are inseparable. And how the person they loved--was always this Jesusy, Bible banging, God loving, Jesus Saves kinda girl.