Even now I’m wondering, does God see something like that in my eyes? In everyone’s? Does He look into our eyes and see something that’s so far beyond what we can begin to dream or imagine that it would just totally blow us away if we could see it for ourselves? I don’t know, but it’s something to ponder. And it seems as though there’s so much to ponder these days. It’s like my mind’s been opened wide to all the wonders around me. Like I’m seeing God’s hand in almost everything, and it’s so cool. I think about how pessimistic and negative I used to be. I used to make fun of almost everything. But now it’s like there’s such life and possibility all around me. How could I have ever been so down before? Except, of course, I didn’t have God. He makes all the difference.
WHAT CHANGED?
I’ve gone through the looking glass
to find everything right side up
to see what appeared empty
is now an overflowing cup
the sky that loomed so cloudy
now glows with rainbow bright
the sun now warm and golden
erases gloom of night
my world before was hopeless
shackled, i wasn’t free
now i soar like an eagle
and all that has changed is me
thank You, God!
cm
Monday, October 21
Last week started out so great, and for the first several days it felt like I was walking on clouds-high above the ordinary stuff that had dragged me down so much before. But by Thursday, I started feeling as if I was coming back down to earth some. And it was a little disappointing.
I guess it started with Tiffany Knight. Okay, I realize I’m supposed to love my enemies, and that I can’t do it without Jesus’ help. But the truth is, I just felt fed up with her today. She says the cruelest things. Not just to me, but to anyone who catches her eye (for being different). And she threw one of her nasty little jabs at Marty Ruez, an overweight girl who’s in choir. I won’t even dignify Tiffany’s remark by quoting her. But it was mean to the bone.
I’d been actually trying to smile at Tiffany and her thugs lately. And, man, is that ever a challenge—it’d be easier to swallow ground glass. Not just because of who they are, although that’s enough right there, but also because I’ve never been a real smiley-type person in the first place.
Okay, in all fairness, maybe I was before I started dressing and acting differently. But now with the way I look, it totally conflicts. Which brings me to another problem: the way I look. Some people (I mean, primarily my parents and maybe some Christians who shall remain unnamed) are acting as though now that I’m a Christian I should start to look different. But I don’t really get that. I think the way I look is sort of useful for linking me to all sorts of people who normally get left out. You know, the outsiders or “total misfits,” as people like Tiffany call them. Well, it’s as if my appearance makes me accessible to those people. And I like that. Besides, I have absolutely no desire to start dressing like Tiffany and her kind. So what am I supposed to do? Anyway, I’m praying about this. I figure God knows what’s best for me. And I want to get it straight from Him.
Now back to feeling bummed because I got mad at Tiffany and wanted to punch her face in and suddenly questioned whether I’m a very good Christian or not. I could tell that I was starting to get depressed and all heavy, but instead of giving in to it, the way I used to do, I took a walk during lunch and just talked it all out with God. And by fifth period I felt better. The next day I told Laura about the whole thing and asked if she ever felt like that.
“Oh, yeah,” she said as we walked to the cafeteria. “All the time. I mean, just ’cuz you invite God into your life doesn’t mean your troubles go away. But sometimes people think that, especially right at first, and that can get you down if you let it.”
I waited for her to get a tray. “But why is that? Why should it get us so down?”
“Probably ‘cuz you’re feeling so good at first and you just want to keep feeling like that forever.”
I nodded. “Yeah, and why shouldn’t you?”
She laughed. “Because it’s impossible.”
“Why’s that? I thought God could do anything.” I frowned as I picked up a chef’s salad.
“You mean like keeping you on a constant high—like you’re taking uppers or something?”
“Sort of.” I noticed a cafeteria worker listening to us then, looking all worried as if she thought we were talking about drugs. I smiled at her and said, “Don’t worry, we’re not talking about speed; we’re talking about God.” And she just laughed. So we waited until we were seated to finish this conversation.
“So, are you saying God can’t keep us feeling good all the time?” I asked as I bit into a carrot stick.
“I’m sure He could. But I doubt that He will. Life’s not supposed to be like that—even when you’re a Christian. It’s more like an up-and-down and round-and-round kind of thing, like a roller coaster, you know?” She rolled her eyes up and down dramatically. “You like the roller coaster?”
“Sure.”
“And would you like it if it just went straight like a train?”
I laughed. “Probably not.”
“Maybe life’s supposed to be like that too. Up and down, exciting and challenging and never predictable. Just make sure that it’s God who’s directing your ride.”
I nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”
“We still on to jam this Saturday?”
“Yeah, but I have to quit at five sharp to go baby-sit.”
“That’s cool.”
And so anyway, that helped me put things in a better perspective. Life’s not supposed to be a smooth ride—it’s supposed to be bumpy. Okay, I can handle that. And with people like Tiffany Knight, combined with the guilt trip Allie’s laying on me lately, not to mention the daily teasing that Jake and Cesar and Spencer like to dish out about me turning into a “Jesus Freak” (their favorite nickname for me right now), it does feel a little rocky and bumpy.
Some people might wonder why I don’t drop my slightly freaky friends, especially when they’re giving me grief for my belief. But that’s just the reason: because they are my slightly freaky friends. I really believe I’m supposed to hang in there with them and just be myself. Only now I can actually love them better than before—and even accept them for who they are (drugs and problems and dragon tattoos to boot). I mean, isn’t that what Jesus did for me?
And as I continue to read my redlines in the Bible, I’m finding that He did exactly that same thing with almost everyone. Well, except for some of those cranky old “religious” guys—particularly the scribes and Pharisees who acted as though they were better than everyone else. And I sure don’t want to be like a “religious” person and start acting or thinking I’m better than anyone else, no matter who they are or how they look or act—even if they’re Tiffany Knight. But I’m starting to realize that not all Christians think like this. And this bugs me.
WHAT’S UP, GOD?
what’s up with looking down on others?
aren’t we all just sisters, brothers?
why make clubs and bands and cliques?
why build walls or pull mean tricks?
why paste fake smiles on a face
when love that’s real is wrapped in grace?
what’s up with acting all superior?
like you’re as clean as your exterior?
Jesus called them filthy graves—
For He’s the only One who saves
us from insecurity
only He gives purity
make me clean, Jesus
amen
cm
Tuesday, October 22
Laura called me tonight and said, “I need to talk to you about something important.”
“What’s up?”
“It’s about Allie.”
“What’s wrong?” I sat on my bed to brace myself. “Did something bad happen to her?”
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“No, that’s not it. But I’m feeling like it’s wrong for me to be hanging with her so much.”
Now, to be honest, I’d been expecting something like this for some time now. Laura had been dropping hints for the past couple weeks. But then she’d always add something like, “But I’m really praying for her to get saved.” As if that made it okay to dis her.
“Wrong to be with her?” I repeated, hoping she might hear how she sounded (at least to me).
“Yeah, our pastor’s been preaching about how the light isn’t supposed to mix with the darkness and how we need to stay away from evil.”
“Yeah?”
“And Allie is obviously involved in evil.”
“Yeah?”
“And so I feel like I’m supposed to stay away from her.”
“You feel like this is what God’s telling you to do, Laura?”
“Yes. It seems right.”
“I guess I can’t argue with that. Only you know what God’s telling you to do. But just so you know, that’s not what He’s telling me to do.”
“What’s He telling you?”
I laughed. “Actually, I haven’t really heard His voice. Have you?”
“Not in an audible sort of way, but I think He speaks through my pastor. What do you think God wants you to do, Chloe? Do you really think it’s right to be such good friends with, you know, someone like Allie?”
“I’m still figuring these things out. I mostly just go by my redlines—that and what I hear at church.”
“And?”
“My redlines show me that Jesus was good friends with all kinds of people—even though a lot of them seemed like total losers. And the religious people actually accused Him of hanging out with sinners since a lot of them were prostitutes or thieves or whatever. And Jesus told those guys that He came to heal the sick and feed the hungry.”
“Yeah, but He was Jesus.”
“That’s true. But He also told us to do like He did.”
Now the phone line grew silent. “I still don’t know …” She sighed. “It’s pretty confusing.”
“Hey, I’m not telling you what to do, Laura. I’m just telling you where I’m coming from. I’m not afraid of Allie and her witchy problems. And I’m not afraid of Spencer and Jake with their drug problems. If God told me to quit being friends with them, well, I guess I’d have to do it. But at the same time, I’d have to wonder what kind of God I’m serving if He doesn’t want me to follow Jesus’ example.”
“But what about the whole darkness and light thing?”
I thought about that for a minute. I went over and turned off the light in my room. Naturally, it got really dark. Then I turned it back on. I just cracked up laughing.
“What?” demanded Laura. “What are you laughing at?”
“Are you in your bedroom right now?”
“Yes, why?”
“Okay, do something for me, will you? Close the door and then turn off the lights, all of them.” I waited for a few seconds.
“Okay, I did it. And now I’m standing here in the dark. Are you happy?”
“Right. Now turn one light back on.”
“Okay. I did.”
“What happened to the dark, Laura?”
“Uh … it’s gone.”
“Right. Now what happened to the darkness when you turned off the light?”
I heard her gasp. “Oh, man, I think I get it!”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought too. If we remove ourselves from that so-called darkness, then what’s left?”
“Just darkness.”
“And excuse me for sounding so elementary, but why did Jesus come to earth?”
“To bring light?”
“Well then?”
“I guess I’m going to be thinking about this some more.”
“Good night, Laura. I love you!”
“I love you too, Chloe. Will you forgive me for acting like such a total bozo sometimes?”
“Oh, Laura, don’t say that. You’re one of the wisest people I know.”
“Sheesh, then you should start hanging out with some better peop—” She stopped. “Well, bite my tongue. There I go again. Good night, Chloe.”
After I hung up the phone, I thought about our conversation, and I can honestly say I’ve never had that exact thought before (about turning the light off and seeing the darkness take over). God had to have been the one to show me that. And that feels pretty exciting.
chase away my darkness with Your Light
fill my life with love that shines so bright
that it’s clear what’s good and right and true
so when folks look at me, they’ll see You
amen
cm
Wednesday, October 23
I remembered that Laura’s sixteenth birthday is this upcoming weekend. So during lunchtime, while she was in the rest room, I asked some of her friends if anyone had made any plans, and everyone said no. So I asked one of her best friends, LaDonna Denney, “Do you think anyone would mind if I gave Laura a party?”
LaDonna shrugged, but she almost seemed irritated by my question. “I guess not. But how would you know who to invite?”
I smiled. “Maybe you could help me out.”
She softened a little. “Yeah, I guess so. Is it supposed to be a surprise party?”
“I think that’d be fun. We usually jam together on Saturdays anyway, so maybe we could just have the party afterward. Hey, maybe you guys could sneak into my house while we’re jamming and set things up. We make so much noise we wouldn’t even hear you.”
“Yeah.” LaDonna’s eyes lit up. “And then maybe you guys could play some for us. Laura keeps talking like you’re all really hot and everything.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re hot. But I guess we’re okay, for beginners that is.” I looked at my watch. “I’ll check with my mom to make sure Saturday night is okay. Can you start putting together a list or something?”
“What about boys?”
“Huh?”
“Is it just a girl party or are we inviting boys too?”
I could see Laura coming our way. “You decide, LaDonna.” Then I headed back to my freak friends’ table. I like to spread myself around.
“Okay,” she called out.
So I phoned my mom at work to ask about the party.
“Sure, I don’t see why not.” Then she paused. “Uh, you’re not talking about a wild party are you?” She lowered her voice. “There wouldn’t be any alcohol or drugs or anything like that would there?”
I laughed. “Not if I can help it. And I promise to clean up everything afterward.”
“Well, okay, then. I like Laura, and I think that sounds like a nice idea.”
So, it was settled. We’re throwing Laura a surprise party. And LaDonna slipped me a note in the hallway. It said, “no boys,” and I was kind of relieved. I knew that if we included boys, I’d have to invite my few guy friends, and then I’d have to make it clear that there was to be no drinking or drugs and, with them, well, there’s just no guarantees. So I was glad.
Later that day, Allie came over to practice on the drums. After about an hour, I went up and joined her. I’m still learning a lot about my new guitar, and it’s fun to practice with real drums. “That was great,” I said when we finally stopped and I pulled the plug on my amp.
“So are you staying later on Saturday for the surprise party?” I asked kind of tentatively since I’ve noticed how Allie seems to be keeping a cool distance between her and Laura lately. For some reason she has more of a problem with Laura being a Christian than she does with me. But Allie’s clearly not happy with either of us. And she’s not afraid to tell me whenever she feels like it.
“What are you going to do at your party?” she asked with a bored expression. “Play pin the tail on the donkey? Or maybe spin the bottle and then, since boys aren’t allowed, we can kiss each other?” She laughed. “Girls are always kissing each other lately, and on the lips to
o—”
“Gross! What girls?”
“You know, in the movies. It’s the latest, haven’t you seen it?”
I made a face. “Look, I might love you, Allie, but not like that. And don’t get any weird ideas about kissing any girls at Laura’s party either.”
“Oh, you’ve gotten so narrow since you became the good little Christian girl.”
I laughed. “For your info, I never would’ve kissed you before I was a Christian either. Sheesh, I wouldn’t even tell you I loved you back then. Hey, I’ve come a long way, baby!” And I know this is true. It’s funny how I feel so much more relaxed and at ease now. I used to sort of watch every word I said, every step I took, trying to create this image of who I thought I wanted to be. Now I just want to be who God wants me to be. It’s a lot more fun.
But Allie still didn’t look convinced. “If you ask me, an all-girl birthday party sounds pretty dull.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Well, what are we going to do at this party? Light candles and sing ‘Kumbaya’?”
Now I was getting a little irritated by her put-downs. And I sort of slipped up—okay, I really slipped up. “Hey, you’d probably get into the candle lighting thing, wouldn’t you, Allie? Isn’t that what the secret coven does at their witch meetings?”
“I don’t know,” she snapped. “It’s not like I’ve ever been to one.”
“Why not?” Now, don’t ask me why I suddenly started going down this foolish trail. Let’s just say my mouth was running way ahead of my brain and my heart.
“Because, if you really need to know, I’ve never been invited.”
“So, what’s the deal? Are the other witches all snooty or something? Do you have to qualify to be in their special club? Or do you have to get a special gown or some magic potion or something?”
That’s when Allie started crying, and then I felt totally wicked.
My Name Is Chloe Page 9
