"Only God Can Judge Me"

I am lying here thinking about how I literally cannot fathom that we live in a world that actually makes people feel bad about who they are. Like, this actually boggles my mind. That with 7 billion humans on this planet, some humans tell other humans that they’re being a human wrong. There is no wrong way to be a human. Sometimes, when I take a moment to come up for air, and I have this brief shining clarity, I am overwhelmed with outrage. Because how is it possibly acceptable for someone to feel inferior due to the traits that make them unique? Someone please try and explain this to me. I dare you to try and make this make sense. Out of all the glorious diversity of human life, some traits were labelled “right” and some were labelled “wrong”, and due to these completely arbitrary and 100% fake standards, humans give themselves the right to discriminate against other humans. Are you hearing this? Are you understanding the sheer absurdity of the world we live in? The worst part is that it’s not even anything these people have a choice about. It’s not like they did someone really shitty to deserve some kind of negative reaction. No no, this is literally how they were born and they have no control over it. And our world now somehow works in such a way that they are made to feel that that’s bad somehow?! Stuff like skin colour or gender or sexual orientation? That stuff is the stuff that condemns you?! All things that - really - at the end of the day, don’t matter. Things that are used to divide people because we’ve created these false barriers between one another. This is literally insane! This is complete and utter madness! This makes zero sense at all! The world is so messed up! How the heck did we manage to created a world wherein people actually feel like they cannot be who they truly are? What have we done?! WE MESSED UP! Oh my gosh I hate this world so much.

Is there a particular reason why you want to wait to have sex?

Hello! Thank you for your question :)There are a few reasons that I’ve decided to wait. The first and most important being that I believe God created sex as an absolutely beautiful and breathtaking thing, but as with all things possessing great power, it was created to be used in a specific way. I’m serious, when we were learning about reproduction in biology, I was like a little kid, like “THIS IS SO COOL!!” The human body fascinates me. And sex is a part of that. It’s designed in all its intricacy to have multiple functions on relational, physiological, and reproductive levels. We are humans, and as humans, we were created to have sex. I’m not even kidding. I don’t actually think that full-on lifetime celibacy and abstinence is necessarily a good thing. For some people, like Paul, it works. For others, it doesn’t. But I also believe with all of my heart that humans were created to be monogamous. Why else would we be so infatuated with fairy tales and “only true love’s kiss can break the spell”? God created us like that. So He created us to have sex and He created us to be monogamous. And so, in the logical progression of this train of thought, He created us to have sex within the confines of monogamy. So…where does marriage come into this? Marriage, to God, is a sacred and holy covenant, before men and before Him. Breaking such a bond is in no way taken lightly. Therefore, for the majority* of cases, a Christian marriage means literally “until death do us part”. In this way, we are assured that we only share these more intimate parts of us with someone who has pledged to love us forever. (See 1 Corinthians 7:2 and Hebrews 13:4)And of course, I trust God explicitly, so I believe that the way He designed sex is the way it was designed to be used, and that’s the way I intend to use it. Also, here’s why, from a totally human perspective that I (in my infinite wisdom..ha. ha. ha.) agree with God. The emotional crap that comes along with sex. Man like, I’ve seen a girl fall for some guy she met a month ago and have a night of passion under the stars and yeah yeah yeah I’m sure it was all so romantic, but after that he left and she couldn’t get over him for years. And I don’t even know if she ever totally will. I’ve seen a girl sleep with 8 different guys in a year, including one who was 1.5 times her age, and she’s as emotionally easy as she is sexually. She’s hungry for attention and validation from guys because she can’t find it in herself. I love both of these girls dearly, and their choices are not mine, and I will never presume to tell them what they should or should not do. But again, their choices are not mine, and while I will not judge, I will not make the same choices.  Cause y’all can deny it, but there is a hormone called Oxytocin which is released by the brain during sex, colloquially dubbed “the cuddle hormone” that gives you all the warm and fuzzy feels. You know what the purpose of this hormone is? To strengthen interpersonal bonds. It’s secreted by the brain during breastfeeding to fortify the connection between a mom and her baby, and it’s secreted by the brain during sex to fortify the connections between you and the person you’re having sex with. Now you go ahead and try to tell me you’re not gonna have any emotions associated with sex. Honestly, I’ll point-blank refuse to believe you. I get emotions associated with all kinds of trivial things, when I’m into the guy. I don’t even wanna think about how crazy I’d get if we brought sex into the equation. Jeepers. That’s like incorporating the alphabet in math. This situation just got a whole new level of complicated. So basically, I wanna wait to have sex til I’m married cause then they’re trapped, muahahaha. I’m joking. But I don’t want to literally become naked (meaning vulnerable and defenceless), strip myself of all the barriers we put up to protect ourselves, and go to that place of intimacy with someone who might walk away in a year’s time and whom I might never see again. Or I might walk away from them. The point is that why invest everything you have in something that might not even last? 

I think sex is gonna be amazing. I just think it’ll be amazing-er within the boundaries of marriage than it would be without. Finally, check out this quote from the song Temptation by the 116clique: "Sex is a gift from God but we’ve taken it and made it idolatry.We’ve taken it and put it in the place of God. And we worship it so it comes out in all kinds of profane ways. So we blame the women for what they’re wearing And we blame the media for what they’re producing. But we never blame ourselvesFor how we’ve twisted God’s gift to glorify us.”  Peace and love! -Katherine *I think for me personally, divorce is not only an option, but the option in cases such as abuse or infidelity. 

reblogging from myself because this is how strongly I feel about it 

ALRIGHT EVERYBODY LISTEN UP

I AM A CHRISTIAN.

I BELIEVE IN HEAVEN AND HELL.

KNOW WHAT I DON’T BELIEVE?

THAT PEOPLE GO TO HELL FOR BEING GAY.

KNOW WHY?

CAUSE THAT’S NOT WHAT THE BIBLE SAYS.

KNOW WHAT THE BIBLE SAYS?

THAT EVERYBODY WOULD GO TO HELL IF NOT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD THROUGH JESUS CHRIST WHO DIED ON THE CROSS.

THE BIBLE ALSO SAYS THAT IF YOU CONFESS WITH YOUR MOUTH THAT JESUS IS LORD AND BELIEVE IN YOUR HEART THAT GOD RAISED HIM FROM THE DEAD, YOU’LL BE SAVED (ROMANS 10 FREAKING 9 MOTHER-TRUCKER)

THEREFORE!!!

PEOPLE GO TO HELL IF THEY DON’T KNOW THE LOVE OF JESUS.

YOU KNOW WHO’S NEVER GONNA KNOW THE LOVE OF JESUS IF THE CHURCH KEEPS BEING RIGID JUDGEMENTAL CONDESCENDING NOT-NICE PEOPLE!?!?!

YOU GUESSED IT!

GAY PEOPLE 

CHURCH, BY OSTRACIZING GAY PEOPLE YOU ARE LITERALLY LIVING THE ANTITHESIS OF YOUR MANDATE.

My Manifesto

I am a Christian. That means that I have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. He is there for me every hour of every day, He listens to me and comforts me, guides me, helps me, inspires me, empowers me, restores me, heals me, blesses me and walks with me through the bad times. He gives me life, peace, hope, joy and freedom. Most importantly He LOVES me. No matter how screwed up I am. He is my teacher, healer, redeemer, my best friend, my king and my Lord. He is my Savior.

 I believe in the one true God, the omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent creator and supreme ruler of the universe. I believe he sprinkled the stars in the sky and hung the sun in the vast expanse of space. I believe He created us with love and a purpose, and made the entire Earth just right for us. And He is threefold: He is at once The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit. I believe that Jesus Christ was fully God and fully man. That the infinite was contained within the confines of space and time and that GOD dwelt among us in a human frame. And I believe that Jesus, the one who was absolutely wholly pure and perfect, was crucified in the most inhumane way possible to take the penalty for every time we screw up. I believe He died and three days later, rose again. He conquered the grave. He is the Lord of life and of death so that NOTHING, not even the powers of Hell can separate us from His love.

 That means that we are free. Free from the bondages of addiction, depression and self-harm. Free from cutting, from drugs, and from all the pain and hurt. Free from anorexia and bulimia. Free from porn. Free from the lie that says we have to fit in and wear the right clothes, be a size double 0 and have perfect hair, skin and teeth. Free from every time someone told us we aren't good enough. Free from all the times we say that to ourselves. Free from hatred. Jesus conquered all that stuff when the nails pierced his hands and blood ran down the rugged wooden cross.

 You know why? Because He loves us. We are his children, the apple of His eye, His treasure. More precious than any other of His myriad creations. Priceless. He created us in love with free will to be our own people and to do our own thing and He let us choose Him. And some of us didn't. But He longs to have a relationship with us. He created us to be His companions, in His image in fact, with a soul and a spirit that instinctively seeks to be close to Him. He created us to live forever, in paradise with Him.

 But we have alienated ourselves. God's justice demands that we pay the penalty for the mistakes we make. That's fair right? We screw up, we take the consequences. Is it still fair when the consequences for our sinful nature is that we can't go to Heaven and live forever, that we die? Well yeah. And God's name, YAHWEH, means "I Am that I Am." He will not go against His own nature and elude justice by not letting us pay the price for our sin. So that means we're all going to die.

 Because we all make mistakes. Come one now, you can't tell me you've never felt like you would do anything at all to take back that one day, or week or month. That you've never felt unworthy to live and you've hated yourself? I have. We are nowhere near perfect and we hurt ourselves and we hurt other people. In the depths of our hearts, we hold hatred for other people. And hating someone is such a terrible emotion that it's tantamount to murdering them in our heads. And our sin, the evil poisoning our hearts and minds, is killing us.

 That sucks though. We don't want to die. God doesn't want us to die either. But where is all this Karmic, Cosmic debt gonna go? What happens with all the mistakes we make? What about all this pain I've caused? It can't just disappear. SOMEONE has to take the consequences. Someone has to pay the debt. But it can't be anyone human, we're all in debt. It had to be God. It had to be someone who had never done anything wrong and who had no sin. And humans were the ones in need of saving so it had to be a human. So God stepped into our galaxy. He was incarnated in the body of a tiny baby boy in a lowly stable in Bethlehem, Judea. And He grew up, never did a thing wrong, but hated by the people He came to save. And they killed Him, all according to the plan designed by God. Then He came back. See how this works?

 Now, some ask, how can there be a loving God when there is so much bad stuff in the world? How can He love me so much if He lets me go through all this stuff? He could very easily make this world a perfect world. And He could remove murder, rape, adultery, divorce, war, terrorism, racism, slavery, oppression, starvation and poverty. But let's stop and think about how He would go about that. All those things are entirely out fault. It's not fate, it's not the devil, it's not random, this messed up world is messed up by the people living in it. So how would He get rid of all that stuff? Get rid of us? Or change us? Change the way we think? Would He have to go all the way deep down into the very fabric of our souls, the motives of our hearts and the patterns of our thoughts? Because we are human, and to get rid of bad stuff would be to either obliterate all of us or to remove our free will. He could make it so that we never have a single bad thought. But we'd all be robots. If we're all perfect, that means we're all the same. What's the point?

 No, He made us with a choice. We can choose Him. And He gave us this world and we messed it up. And we walked away from Him. But our souls long to be united with Him again. We don't know what we're missing but we know that something is. We are all trying to ease the pain, to fill the void, to make sense of this life. We search for meaning and significance and fulfillment in friends, family, relationships, travel, food, sex, drugs, career, politics, literature, money, possesions, music and religion. But none of those things will ever cut it.

 Hold on now, you say, you just listed religion. Aren't you preaching Christianity? Isn't that a religion? And you just said that religion's not gonna cut it. No no, religion is rules and traditions. Christianity is a personal relationship with Jesus. Totally different. Don't get caught up in the "Don't do this, don't do that." Don't get confused by Catholic vs. Pentecostal. Those are denominations, but I don't like defining myself by a denomination.

 I am a Christian. I love Jesus and Jesus loves me. And I screw up but He forgives me. And when I step from this world to the next, He will be waiting for me and I will party up in Heaven with Jesus for all eternity. 

Personification

Looove me some spoken work poetry. So many goosebumps.

Short Story: Beauty is a Beast

            You know that moment when you step off the schoolbus in the afternoon, or when you shut your bedroom door behind you, or lie in bed at night, and just breathe deeply, finally completely alone. You know the person you are in that moment? That’s the real you, with all your true hopes and dreams and values. Nobody can watch you or judge you, or tell you what to do or who to be. People should be that person more often.

        I see it a lot. People are always totally themselves around me. I’m your corner store cashier. I’m like a part of the wallpaper. Because honestly, what effect do I have on the rest of your life outside this miniscule window of time for your trip to buy chocolate or scotch tape? It’s amazing the things I can learn about people as a cashier just by simple observation. I’ve worked here at my tiny corner-store-attached-to-a-pharmacy on the corner of my street for two years, and we sell everything from a turnip to tweezers. In two years of working 7-11 every day of the summer and 7-11 every Saturday and Sunday during the school year, I’ve gotten to know most of the people who live in our neighborhood, through routine visits and fragments of conversation here and there.

 For example, elderly Mrs. McAllister lives all alone at the top of the hill with her four cats, whose photos she carries in her purse. Boots is the black one with white paws, Snowball is all white, Mittens is yellow with a black triangle on his forehead and Tommy is orange striped. She buys a 2L of milk and a Big Turk chocolate bar every single Saturday morning between 7:00 and 7:30 without fail.

 I expect Mr. Watkins visit around 9 every second Sunday morning. He always buys Werther’s hard caramel candies, Purity cream crackers, a bottle of ginger ale, a loaf of bread and bologna. He carries two tiny school photos in his wallet of his grandchildren, Jeffrey who is in grade five this year, and Alyssa, who is in grade two. They love the caramel candies.

 Finally, there’s a tall, dirty blonde boy around my age who seems to live on Nestea and Peppermint Lifesavers. He visits my store faithfully every day at around 10 during the summer to get his fix and still comes back every Saturday and Sunday morning during the school year. I know that he likes the Red Hot Chili Peppers, that he plays basketball and that he goes to the school on the other side of the city even though he’s not zoned for it. Name? Not a clue. I call him Lifesavers-Guy in my head.

 I’m writing all this down because I want to tell you the story of a boy and girl. Well mostly a girl, but the boy is in it a little bit. The girl’s name is Purple-Monster-Girl. Or at least, that’s what I call her.

 She appeared on the scene around the end of June, right after I had finished grade 11. That day I was teasing 13-year-old Joshua about his first date that night as I put his comic book and Sour Patch Kids into a bag. He was beet-red, right to the tips of his ears and was probably all too happy to escape when my attention was diverted. The little bell above the door tinkled and I looked up to see who it was. My first impression was that she looked really...for lack of a better word, Normal. I wish I could say she looked Mysterious, or she was gorgeous but she looked sad, but she just looked perfectly normal. She was about 5’7’’, with dark brown hair falling in loose waves to her shoulder blades, looking like she had let it dry on its own. I will say she has a really pretty face, with nice skin. She was wearing knee-length cut-off shorts, a black tshirt with a colourful graphic on the front that matched her turquoise converse. She wasn’t stick-thin but she wasn’t chubby by any means. She was just...normal. She had two earbuds stuck in her ears.

 She picked up a bag of Doritos, a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. When she brought it to the counter I pointed at her ear and said

 “What are you listening to?”

 She cocked her head and looked at me for a second, as if sizing me up, then she said

 “Nothing. People are just less likely to try and make conversation with me if I have them in.”

 Something told me I should have been at least a little bit offended by that, but I wasn’t at all. I just felt like I had passed some secret character test. She left the store and I was left shaking my head.

 “Weird chick.” I thought, and that was the last I thought of it, until she became a recurring presence. She came back every now and then for her purple Monster and  Stride Spearmint, though the junk food varied, sometimes chocolate, sometimes candy, sometimes chips.

 Around mid-July when I was selling popsicles and soft serves to droves of sticky, smiling children, she started coming in at 7 in workout clothes. She stopped buying junk food then too. It was around this same time that Purple-Monster-Girl met Lifesavers-Guy. She happened to come later that day, and both of them approached my counter with their usual purchases at the exact same time. Sometimes, replaying the scene in my head, it strikes me that it’s just like a movie. He stepped back like a gentleman and gestured for her to go ahead of him. She just looked up at him, right in his eyes and almost literally glowed at him, like, her smile looked like he was a child who had just said his first word. While I rang in her purple Monster and Stride Spearmint and she gave me the exact change without me asking her, Lifesavers-Guy asked her the pivotal question:

 “What are you listening to?”

 I looked at her quizzically. Would she be as honest with him as she was with me? She wasn’t. After a glance at me so fast it was almost imperceptible, she took one earbud out, smiled and lied. This is a perfect example of how people are themselves around me. She had no trouble admitting that she wasn’t really listening to music to the corner store cashier, but to this stranger, this boy, who might judge her, she had to lie.

 “Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

 And what a lucky lie. Lifesavers-Guy’s face lit up and they chatted eagerly all through his order, in which I had to tell him his total twice because he wasn’t paying attention the first time, and out the door. I could see them standing on the sidewalk outside the store. She laughed a lot and he smiled shyly, then they switched their phones and gave them back. I just grinned.

 As the days scorched and summer wore on, I sold a cool drink to every customer who walked in the store. August was giving us a beating this year. I stood behind my counter and watched harried fathers buying a box of cereal early in the morning, little old ladies buying tea bags and muffins, and people of all ages rushing in to pick up a card for various occasions and asking to borrow my pen. And I watched Purple-Monster-Girl and Lifesavers –Guy. Not in a creepy way, I mean when they came in the store. Sometimes, if he was alone, he bought Stride Spearmint or a purple Monster with his traditional order, or she bought Nestea or Lifesavers to accompany her drink and gum. Purple-Monster-Girl’s early morning workouts seemed to be working for her too, because the soft curves of June has transformed to taut, toned lines for August. As summer died with blazing red and orange sunsets, I saw them come in together sometimes holding hands. If one or both of them were in the store when Red Hot Chili Peppers came on the radio, I saw them smile like they shared some kind of secret. It obviously wasn’t such a huge secret if I was in on it, but nobody thinks of that.

 I guess they just felt special, as only new couples can. They were like a modern day Romeo and Juliet. Actually, scratch that. Let’s say they were like a modern day Beauty and the Beast. Not that either one of them was ugly and the other one was beautiful, I just think that story is infinitely more romantic than Shakespeare’s tragedy because it’s about seeing people for who they really are and looking past outward appearances. Anyway.

 The days grew shorter, the soft serve machine went into storage, and Purple-Monster-Girl, Lifesavers-Guy and I all went back to our respective schools for our last year. My time spent behind my corner-store counter was cut from seven days to two. But I still got visits from my favourite couple on the weekends. It was around the time that Crayola crayons and loose leaf were in big clearance bins at the front of the store, and big boxes of mini chocolate bars were on display that I saw Purple-Monster-Girl’s hair straightened for the very first time ever. She wasn’t wearing her workout clothes this Sunday. She was wearing shorts that were, in my humble opinion, too short. If not for the weather, at least for propriety. And she wore the same tshirt I had first seen her in. It hung on her differently now. It slipped right past her flat, toned stomach and didn’t even catch on her hips.

 And there was trouble in paradise for our neighborhood lovers. Or at least, that’s how I interpreted it. One chilly morning early November, I was organising a magazine rack and shaking my head at celebrities exploits when the two of them approached the store, seemingly in a heated discussion, judging from their faces through the glass. They stopped talking as soon as they entered the store. The tinny radio music couldn’t quite handle the oppressive silence, and only made it awkward when Red Hot Chili Peppers came on. I pretended to be totally absorbed in perfecting the magazine display, until they had paid for their items and left, still in silence.

 Chocolate Santas, chocolate Snowmen and chocolate Reindeer were flying off the shelves and we had our first snowfall. I smiled at all my customers and wished them a Merry Christmas as they left the store. The same five annoying Christmas songs played over and over the store speakers for a month straight, and everybody was jolly. And I watched tiny changes in Purple-Monster-Girl. Dark eyeliner rimming her eyes. A lower neckline than I’d ever seen her wear. Her hair was more often straight and more seldom wavy. She was still beautiful, but she packaged it more. She looked like beauty was no longer natural, but something she put on like a mask when she got up every morning. The day after school let out for Christmas vacation, they came in together, looking happy again. He kept his arm around her waist, not possessively, just kinda chillin there, like he was supporting her, or protecting her. And I saw the way he set his jaw.

 New Year’s Day the corner store was open. It closed only Christmas Day and two other forced holidays under the labor law. Anyway, I sold a lot of Advil, Tylenol, Coffee and Gatorade that morning. I didn’t try to make conversation with those customers, I just kind of smiled gently at them. One such girl laid a box of Advil on the counter with a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. She didn’t really resemble the one who came in five months ago and told me there was nothing coming through her earbuds. Her whip straight hair had been highlighted with caramel streaks. That looked great to me. What didn’t look great was the tank top that looked two sizes too small and the painted-on jeans which revealed stick arms and legs and a waist so tiny it looked like it would fit between my finger and thumb. I stared at her for a few seconds in wonderment. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheekbones had become very defined. I passed her her plastic bag of three items and wondered who she had kissed at midnight.

 It evidently wasn’t her boyfriend. No more did they enter the store together or buy each other’s items. Red Hot Chili Peppers on the radio elicited a stony face from him and...nothing from her, no recognition whatsoever. A week after we went back to school I watched Lifesavers-Guy stalk resolutely past the Monster cooler and refuse to let his gaze wander to the gum display next to the counter. I didn’t make any eye-contact with him as I rang in his Nestea and Lifesavers.

 The following month saw weather as cold and blustery as the night the enchantress sought refuge in the Prince’s castle. Business was slow. I sold contact solution, Benadryl, Root Beer and Reese’s Pieces. At home, I did homework and I started watching Beauty and the Beast again, to relive my childhood. I only saw the beginning before I fell asleep though. I saw the Beast shut himself up in his tower, ashamed at his own appearance, despising himself and repulse any human companionship. I felt bad for him. After all, who said he was ugly? Only society’s socially constructed ideas of “beauty” made him think that. It only took the right person to see the real him, and to see how beautiful he actually was. But I digress.

 Lifesavers-Guy came to the store less, probably because Purple-Monster-Girl still visited faithfully to get her energy drink and gum. She never put food with it, but I did get a few surprises. One morning I was just listening to 10-year-old Jess tell me about the latest Nancy Drew mystery she had read, in between mouthfuls of Skittles. Purple-Monster-Girl slipped in somewhere around the falling action. After Jess left, Purple-Monster-Girl placed her traditional energy drink and gum on the counter and then plopped down beside it a box of condoms. I said nothing, just looked at her. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. I rang through her order in what was supposed to be disapproving silence but I don’t know if she got the vibe. That was Saturday. The next morning I sold her more Advil.

 Three weeks later it was uncommonly crowded in my tiny store. Purple-Monster-Girl was coming in as Lifesavers-Guy was going out. Manoeuvering around her, he placed his hand ever so lightly in the small of her back, an unconscious, tender touch, but drew it back suddenly as though stung. A moment later she turned around to get her Monster from the cooler and I could see why. Her thin, tight shirt revealed every vertebrae in her back in sharp relief, clearly visible through flesh and fabric. I looked at her with sad eyes. She wasn’t the normal girl she was in June. Seven months had transformed her into an entirely different person, one who was quite evidently underweight. One who...was buying a pregnancy test. Heaven help us. I glanced quickly at her face, but her gaze was focussed somewhere past my left ear. I could only hope that I didn’t see her back here in nine months buying baby formula. After THAT experience, I examined all the labels on our condom boxes, and concluded that she should have bought the ultra-strong ones. They were 98.2% effective, which is a whole 1.2% more effective than the normal kind, but my faith in them was shattered forever.

 The next Saturday, everbody was buying boxes of Barbie valentines and candy hearts and Hershey kisses. But not Purple-Monster-Girl. I caught myself staring at her stomach, looking for a bump. I knew it was too soon, but I did it unconsciously anyway. She just looked as shrunken as ever to me. However, to my immense relief, this shopping trip featured a box of tampons. I actually had to restrain myself from sighing in relief.

 The ides of March rolled around and a lot of green was on sale everywhere. I saw garlands of four leaf clover and plastic cut-outs of leprechauns and the young and middle-aged elementary school teachers who bought them for their classrooms. And quite suddenly, Purple-Monster-Girl disappeared. Saturday morning when the bell tinkled I didn’t even look up, until I heard a much heavier footfall than what I was used to, and beheld a strange man in a suit buying Pepsi and a muffin. I waited and waited and waited. The end of my four-hour shift came and still no sign of her. Nobody made any utterance of where she was. They didn’t need to.

 Near the end of March, I served a woman whom I had never seen before. It wouldn’t be weird to me because I do that all the time, except for a striking resemblance to a girl who used to come in here all the time, and the fact that she was buying a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. And did I mention this corner store JUST HAPPENED to be just over the hill to the hospital? The woman’s hair was disheveled and she bore unmistakable signs of fatigue in the shadows under her eyes and the droop of her shoulders. She spoke in hushed tones to the woman standing next to her, whom I assumed was her sister of friend. Completely unintentionally, I caught snippets of their conversation. “ ...still refusing to eat...heartrate dangerously low...better in time for prom...” As I handed her her receipt, I smiled at her and wished her a good day as sincerely as I could.

 That night, I tried to finish watching Beauty and the Beast but I only got as far as the dance in the ballroom and Belle wearing her beautiful yellow dress. I reflected that yellow doesn’t look good on many people. In the meantime, I knew the rose in the tower of the castle was wilting. Time was running out. This Beauty felt more like the Beast and I didn’t know if she would get to dance with her prince. This story of a girl and boy is shaping up more like a Shakespearian tale than a Disney movie after all.

 A couple weeks later, I looked up to see a tall, dirty-blonde boy enter the corner store. He didn’t pick up Nestea and Lifesavers this time. He went straight to the Monster cooler and picked out a purple one, then a pack of Stride Spearmint gum, then on the counter next to them he placed a greeting card. There was a cartoon Teddy bear on the front with a bandaid on his head and big bold letters above it: “Get Well Soon!” I wanted to say something, but what would I say?

 “I’m sorry your ex-girlfriend who dumped you because she’s sick and whom you’re obviously still in love with is in the hospital”

 Yeah, no, that’s a little creepy.

 I thought for a second, then threw caution to the winds and just said

 “How is she?”

 He looked up as though mildly surprised that I was speaking to him, and took a minute to process my question.

 “She’s doing better than she was.”

 I nodded. “That’s good.”

 Then he left.

 I remember clearly Saturday, April 28th Lifesavers-Guy came in my store again. He didn’t buy a single thing, just marched straight the counter and said

 “Can I show you something?”

 I was completely taken aback and slightly apprehensive. In the past, such a question had precipitated photos of cats in various attitudes of idleness, of school portraits of grandchildren, but I didn’t know what to expect from this teenager.

 “Sure.”

 He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo. It was of a couple under an arch decorated with swaths of white tulle and flowers. He wore dress pants, dress shirt, vest and tie and she wore a beautiful yellow dress, a perfect fairy tale dress. I recognized the dark hair with caramel highlights and the smile I had seen the day they met – the same glowing smile like a child had said their first word. She still looked skinny but I could see signs of returning curves, like back in June when I described her as “Very Normal.”

 “That was at her prom last Saturday.” He said.

 I looked up at him. “She’s beautiful.”

 He smiled. “I know.”

 That night I went home and finally finished watching Beauty and the Beast.  As Belle and her Prince kissed at the end and fireworks went off, I reflected on how thankful I am that there are people in this world who know true beauty when they see it.

 You know that moment – when you step off the schoolbus in the afternoon, or when you shut your bedroom door behind you, or lie in bed at night, and just breathe deeply, finally completely alone – you know the person you are in that moment? That’s the real you, with all your true hopes and dreams and values. Nobody can watch you or judge you, or tell you what to do or who to be. You should be that person more often. Who cares what anybody thinks? Because I can promise you there is somebody out there who will love the true you. 

This is the guy who, ignoring the opinions of others, bee-lined toward those whom His culture had identified as sinful. Jesus modeled it for us and He told story after story to make sure we got the message. He desperately wanted us to know that His Father seeks the lost like a shepherd looking for His scrappy sheep. He searches for us like a woman who’s lost a precious coin. He welcomes the very worst sinners with the delight of a father whose son was dead but is now alive. Before He ever suggested, “Go and sin no more,” Jesus first welcomed and received unrepentant sinners.