God

So, I haven't been writing anything about God lately. Mostly that's because God and I are having issues... and I don't know how to lean on Him like I should. Also, I can't talk about a lot of things here, I've been writing more often and finding that the things I want to say, I can't say, because certain people read it here. But this I can say...

Yesterday, my theater history teacher was talking about the Protestant Reformation and the religious wars that resulted from it. He said, "Who here considers themselves religious or spiritual in any way?" I think I was one of the only people who raised a hand. He asked what religion, I said Protestant, he said, "If someone came up to you and told you to convert to Catholocism or be burned at the stake, what would you do?" I thought, "As if my life doesn't have enough hard choices..." But the more I thought about it, the more disturbing my answer seemed. "I would probably convert outwardly, but still have my own personal beliefs inside." It might show how much my faith means to me to say I'd choose the stake, but really, it would not have been the truth. The reason that disturbed me is it seems cowardly and unzealous. I've mentioned this before... why do Muslims take their faith seriously enough to blow themselves up for their cause? I don't see very many Protestants with that level of commitment. I suppose part of the reason for my answer is that Catholics and Protestants worship the same God. If the question had been different and completely antithetical to my beliefs, such as, "Convert to Satanism or be burned at the stake," I'd choose the stake. But its somehow disturbing to me that Catholics and Protestants have in the past been so violent towards each other, when really, they only disagree on a few points that don't have much to do with actually worshipping God.

Anyway, enough of that. Yesterday, Anissa, Andrew, Brittany, and I went to get in touch with our childhoods. We went to see a 3-D movie called The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl. It was kind of fun to think like a child again. And yet, it was sort of a laugh-at-the-humor-not-with-it kind of movie. I thought Shakespeare used a lot of puns. But this totally topped him. Still, I got a cool pair of glasses out of it.

After that we went back to my apartment to make tortellini, corn, and garlic bread. By some freak of nature, all the food finished cooking at once, so nothing was sitting on the back burner getting cold. I guess that's not really possible since anywhere on the stove is pretty warm when its in use, but... you get the idea.

After that I did some heavy thinking that got me nowhere. In the bad puns of the above-mentioned movie, I wrecked my train of thought when I burned the bridge over the stream of consciousness. Yeah that was really bad humor. I'll have to change the subject.

I went to bed and had some insane dreams. I wonder if Andrew snuck anything into the tortellini? Among other crazy insane elements of my dreams, I was pregnant and in labor, and when I had the baby, I named it Asherah, someone took it away and I didn't care (some mother I'll be someday) and a little toddler needed his diaper changed and didn't have a mother, so I grudgingly changed it, figuring that I'd need the practice, since I'd have to change Asherah a lot when who-ever-it-was gave me my baby back. And in another part of the dream, Anissa was there, speaking in German, but I could understand her because for some reason in my dreams I've always been able to understand foreign languages. And now I'm awake, and class was cancelled today because my teacher is really sick. So I'm going to go use this time to catch up on my homework. Bye!