This is me

TodayxIsxThexDay

AmericanTerrorist

Atypical Homicide

Shrouded Dementia

So this is where I could tell you all about the fact that I'm that girl you'll never understand (just like all the others. Really, with so many examples, why can't we just be figured out?!). I could also tell you that my favorite color is always either orange or green. I could tell you that my heroes all have 'Chris' as the beginning of their name. I could tell you that I don't think I'll be dating for a long time. I could tell you a lot of things (in fact I just did), but they aren't important.
My name isn't important. My age isn't important. My current emotional status isn't even important.

What's important is that I serve a God. A God that cannot be understood, contained, defeated, or discouraged. I serve a God who came to save me, and He didn't just die for me, He died because of me. Not only did He die, but He was forced to deny Himself for a split second, just to save me.
I strive to be a 'little Christ' every day. I strive to be just like the Man who was beaten beyond recognition by a company of soldiers, whipped until any skin that was on His back was torn away, and then made to carry His own cross-alone-up a hill so He could die between two criminals for crimes He never committed, treasonous thoughts He'd never let enter His mind. I serve the Man who healed the sick, restored sight to the blind, brought the dead back to life, fed thousands with barely anything, foretold the future, and did countless other things that were never documented. I've pledged my life to the Man who carried the entire weight of the world on His shoulders, bore His burden with full knowledge that He was doing it for people who could never, ever understand the full enormity of the duty He took on, and who would scorn Him, spit on Him, betray Him, renounce Him, and turn from Him for centuries to come. I'm a sibling to the Man who sits in Heaven, alive after all the horror He went through. He hears me, He loves me, and He protects me.
This Man did so much for and because of me that it makes no sense that He shouldn't have all of me. My everything is His. My love, my life, my devotion, my effort, my all.
I won't apologize. I will not be ashamed. May I point out (since I'm going to anyway, I don't know why I'm bothering asking...) that Muslims don't have to apologize. Abortionists don't have to apologize. Athiests and Wiccans don't have to apologize. Why should I?