As you may know, I grew up in a Christian home. This means that I was raised by a Christian mother. And for years I had no idea what it meant to be a follower of Jesus. I no idea what it meant to really be a Christian. I didn’t particularly care about church and the sermons. I’ve actually fallen asleep in every service I’ve ever been to. And then things like Sunday school and church camp were more about being with your friends than it was about learning about God. And no, having a Christian mother didn’t make me want to be Christian. (Who really listens to their mother anyways?)
Now, I’ve finally begun to understand the meaning of the word Christian. And more importantly I’ve begun to truly understand what Jesus did for me.
Everyone always talks about how you can’t love anyone else if you don’t love yourself. But you know what I think we need to talk about? The fact that if you don’t know how to accept love, you’re in much more trouble.
Father’s Day makes me sad and I think this is the first time I’ve been able to dwell on it. (You know from being at home with all my feelings)
Unfortunately my father didn’t die. And yes I know how that sounds but… I think having a dead father is easier to understand than having an absent father. Especially one that lives less than 15 minutes away.
I know a lot of people say that. But truly, I can’t think of anything more worse than a liar. I try so hard to tell the truth even if I don’t think it would be the nicest thing to hear at the moment. At least it’s the truth.
I was taught to pray from an early age. I don’t remember not knowing how to pray. I was raised by a Christian mother who took us to church nearly every Sunday, sent us to Sunday School and Vacation Bible School (VBS as we would call it) and in every situation, we would pray.