This is all new to me.

I have wanted to write a book for about 8 years now.

I even started once, but sadly never finished.

I would write and write and title chapters, but never keep going. The reason I had started writing was to get out all the junk that had accumulated in my life; the stuff that I had finally let come to the surface. But again I couldn't bring myself to finish. In fact, once I had gotten all the junk out it didn't seem to bother me anymore and I lost the desire to write.

That all changed when in a few short months I went from living a very predictable, safe and stable life in Michigan to: moving out west, having my car stolen, and having my entire life turned upside down. It all started when my friend who had just gotten married six months earlier; called to say she was pregnant.

I asked Jesus into my heart when I was 5 years old and was baptized at 7.

I'm at a loss at this point for what else to say about my spiritual life during those years at home.

My parents love the Lord and taught us well but like many people my faith was notmine. I had been taught things and knew I should believe things, but again, it was all a big hand me down. I saw Jesus as my friend, but didn't really know him as the Creator, the Savior...

In the last 8 years I have grown and changed and wrestled with the idea of faith and Jesus and Christianity and what it all means. I have cried and yelled at the Lord. I have tested God and played the horribly behaved child. And through all of this I have come to understand that no matter how angry or doubtful or scared I was; no matter how badly I behaved; whether I ignored God or thanked him, he never left me and never stopped loving me.

This blog is a story about that.

This is my story.

This is real, and I hope that if you are wondering about God or scared of him or distrustful or angry or "fill in the blank"; that these stories about becoming an actual follower of Christ will resonate within you. Sometimes we aren't honest enough with each other about what following Christ really means and what it feels like. We put on masks that hide how we feel because we are afraid.

Let's be transparent together.

I'll go first.