My mom's favorite movie of all time (and I must admit, it ranks among my favorites) is the Blues Brothers.  When I was a kid, we would rent it every chance we got and watch it over and over and over again.  But in all that time, the two lines that have stuck with me the most are these:

"We're going to Joliet on a mission from God."  and...

"The Lord works in mysterious ways..."

The first one stuck with me because every year when she would drive me to camp, my mom would say that over and over and over again. 

But the second line resonates through every part of my life.  Who but God knows why in the world I spent last summer in Connecticut?  Who else knows why I'm here at Knox College of all places?  Who knows why we suffer the way we do?

That last post, I had submitted long before it went up.  But it has perfect timing--because that's what I want to ask God right now.  I know that there's a reason for everything, and a time for everything under the sun.  But why does that time have to be RIGHT NOW?

I'm so glad I'm not God, and I'm really, really glad that I don't control my life.  I can't imagine where I would be.  I often like to think that I'm forging my own path, but in the end God always has his way.  Imagine that?

God...I'm slightly intoxicated, very stressed, and trying hard to hold in my emotions until I can deal with them.  But it's hard--so hard.  God, I don't know where to go or who to turn to.  Everyone has their own problems in their own life.  I know I can't help anyone else right now (at least not intentionally), so how can I expect someone else to help me?

As a teen who is soon to become a twenty-something, I hear my parents and grandparents talking a lot about where they were when some spectacular (or horrid) event occurred.  My grandparents remember where they were when they found out about the attacks on Pearl Harbor, and my parents have told me countless times where they were when President Kennedy was assassinated.  I can remember where I was on the morning of September 11, 2001 - sitting in a seventh grade literature class.  I remember sitting in my dorm's common room, watching election results coming in on November 4th, 2008.

I'm a history dork--I readily admit that.  One of the things that fascinates me the most is first-hand accounts of historical events.  You can get the same story from any history text--but speaking to someone who experienced the events or the after-effects will give you a much richer tale.  This is also one of the reasons that I keep a (sporadic) journal.  If something big happens in my life, I write about it because I want to be able to remember it down the road. 

Memories are a big deal to me.

So when I think about the days and nights that have contributed to my journey of faith, I revel in those memories.  I remember not only the deep conversations and realizations, but the knowledge that God had wrapped his arms around me in those moments and that He would carry me through.

I can remember the night I first gave up my life to Jesus.  I was in elementary school, and it kind of all happened by accident.  I was at a church camp (which became my second home), and it was a Wednesday--traditionally termed 'committment night' at camp.  The chaplain gave a very impassioned message, presented us with the Gospel and divided us up into groups.  Those of us that wanted to bring Jesus into our lives were asked to follow some of the counselors to a different portion of the camp, where we would have one-on-one time with them and begin our relationship.  I was 10--I really had no idea what was going on at the time, but my best friend went with that group, and so I followed.  After a night of prayer, tears, and some intense conversation (for a 10-year-old at least), I had accepted Jesus.

Since then, countless retreats, weeks at that same camp, and missions trips have added to my faith in ways I never expected.  Friends used to tell me quite often that God had big things planned for me--I never could have known how right they would be.

What are some of your favorite "God moment" memories?  Do you remember the day that you realized that you wanted God in your life forever?

I question my sanity a lot.

Who in their right mind does what I do?  I give up my Saturdays to go help with the speech team.  I spend Sunday mornings in church.  I apply on a whim for a job on the east coast--AND ACTUALLY GO THERE. 

I don't understand myself.  I don't even like myself. 

I expect myself to be perfect.  I really do.  I hold myself to impossible standards in the hope of someday even getting close.  I don't let people see my weaknesses and if they manage to, I cover them up with something--an excuse, an emotional story.

There are a lot of times when I just feel completely alone.  I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle all by myself, because I'm too stubborn to ask for help when I need it.  I would much rather just suffer quietly and work it out in my head, or blog about it, or even wander into chat rooms or something like that searching for answers.

I really wish that God had an email address.  Or a blog.  Or something concrete that I could just send things to and know that they were read.  I know that God hears me but sometimes it's so hard to believe that.  It's so hard to believe that God would care about someone like me--someone who probably isn't going to change the world or be famous in any way, shape or form.  I'm too much of a coward to even talk to my family or my roommate about Jesus--how am I supposed to go out into the world and preach the gospel?

I have no motivation right now.  None whatsoever.  I really just want to sleep for the next 4 weeks and make them go by faster.  I just want to go back to school and be in class and try to work on life.  I don't think I should be leading a small group...but I need to.  I need that time. 

Prayer is so hard for me.  What do you say to the King of the Universe?  What can I offer to the Creator?  Why would He want to listen to me whine and cry about my problems?  It's life--you deal with it as it comes.  You can't anticipate what God has in store for you.  Who could have predicted a year ago that I would have spent an entire summer in Connecticut?