Steven and I recently realized the pattern that we had fallen into with each other. Busy separate lives, not really doing much life together. We have sense put more purpose into our thoughts and actions involving each other, and it has been so refreshing to wonder what he is up to, to miss him, to need him.
I have mentioned that I've been feeling more panicky lately. I H-A-T-E IT! It is sooo hard to live like this. I can't express how I hate that feeling, and worrying that I'll get that feeling, instead of just enjoying my activities.
Today I listened to reports on NPR over Japan and the tsunami on the way to Mimi's house. Then after I got there I turned on the news to see Oklahoma up in flames. I started to feel anxious (as any normal person would). I started to actually pray that something amazing would happen, and the fires would be held back from hurting anyone. Honestly, even now, I don't believe in the power of prayer as a decision-changer for God, or that increases His power. I don't know what I believe about it. What I do know is prayer changes the pray-er (eww, that seems like something a Baptist preacher would outline in a Powerpoint). Be it psychological, spiritual, or mystical - when you pray, something changes inside you. For me, it brings a sense of peace. Maybe because when there is a situation where you can do nothing, it makes you feel like you might be doing something.
My middle sister Kacey is an atheist. She is open to talking about it, and I love hearing her thoughts about the matter. She mentioned in a conversation awhile ago, that religion is built by cultures out of a need . . . like a coping mechanism. I don't think I disagree. I do believe in God. I just do. Somehow it's hard for me not to. But there are so many things that Christians seem so sure about, that I'm just not sure about.
I've decided though that God is a pretty good coping mechanism for me. In that way, He is a Savior to me. I think Kacey would ask me questions about the psychology of that. I would say if you suffered from some painful disease, and you took a pill (that could be a cure, or could be a placebo), and you felt amazingly better, wouldn't you just keep right on taking it? I don't know that I'd care why it was working. I would just be thankful for the pain going away.
This is by no means a clear and concise thought process. It's just a spilling out of quasi-revelations.