It's My Life

by Melody Carlson

  Tonight I will go to bed without getting all worried and frightened about having to become a missionary someday. Because I do know that God's love is supposed to drive away all fear. And I think that's what I've been feeling lately–just plain old ordinary fear.

  DEAR GOD, I'M GOING TO JUST GIVE THIS WHOLE MISSIONARY THING TO YOU. FIRST OF ALL, THERE DOESN'T SEEM TO BE MUCH I CAN DO ABOUT IT ANYWAY. I MEAN, I'M ONLY SEVENTEEN–WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? LEAVE HOME AND HITCHHIKE TO SOUTH AMERICA TO PREACH TO THE UNSAVED? AND SECOND, I KNOW THAT YOU WILL SHOW ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO AND THEN HELP ME TO DO IT. AND THIRD, I KNOW THAT IF THIS THING IS FROM YOU, IT WILL BE GOOD AND RIGHT AND THE VERY BEST THING FOR ME, AND I WON'T BE AFRAID. SO THERE YOU HAVE IT. SHOW ME YOUR WAY, GOD! AMEN.

  Wednesday, September 5 (a revelation?)

  Tonight I went to the midweek service. I don't usually go. I'm not even sure why not because I've discovered I like it. But for some reason, I wanted to go tonight. I went by myself but I sat with Stephie, who looked slightly surprised to see me there but made no comment.

  It was a really fun service with lots of singing and Pastor Tony gave a great sermon about touching the lives of the people right around you (kind of a relief to me when I've been thinking lately about how I might need to travel to the ends of the earth to touch people's lives). Afterwards, I went up and talked to Tony (amazingly, no one else was with him), and I told him about how his friend had made that missionary invitation, how I'd actually raised my hand, and how I'd been kind of freaking out about it ever since.

  Well, Pastor Tony just smiled and said, “That's wonderful!” Now to tell the truth, I was hoping he'd say something like, “Well, Caitlin, you probably were just making an emotional response, based on the things you'd recently experienced in Mexico. Don't take it too seriously.”

  But no, he says, “I think it's just fantastic! And I can really envision that for you. I'm sure you'd make a terrific missionary.”

  “But do you think that I really heard God?” I asked doubtfully.

  “Well, only you can know that for sure. But I don't see why not. God certainly does call some people to become missionaries. Some at even younger ages than you. I believe it could happen.”

  Well, my face must've revealed my heart because Tony lightened up a little then. “But think of it like this, Caitlin,” he continued. “We all need to be missionaries. Like I said tonight, Jesus wants us to reach out to those around us. He's put us where we are for good reason. You can be a missionary without ever leaving home.”

  I brightened. “Yeah, you're right. I hadn't thought of it like that.”

  “And then–” he winked–“if God is really calling you to the foreign missions field, just think how much better prepared you'll be if you've been doing it all along at home.”

  I nodded halfheartedly. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.”

  He patted me on the back. “Don't worry about it. If it's God calling, nothing will bring you greater joy than answering.”

  I tried to smile. “I'm sure you're right. Thanks.”

  Well, I still don't feel any great joy about the foreign mission field, but it is a consolation to think about being a missionary right where I am. I mean, I realize how much the kids at school need God. If any place could use a missionary, it's probably Harrison High. I just don't know if I'm up to the task. Maybe I'll ask Beanie what she thinks.

  Friday, September 7 (strange thing)

  Well, I did tell Beanie about what Tony said (just about reaching out to our high school, NOT about the foreign missionary business!), and so we've actually been praying on our way to school this week. We're asking that God will use us to reach others and that He'll show us who needs to be reached. And Beanie starts listing off all these kids who've got problems at home or school–kids I would've called “losers” last year. But not anymore. And so I'm looking for ways to reach out to them. And it's amazing how surprised someone can be when she figures out you're for real and not just jerking her chain. I think I've actually started a couple of new relationships.

  So, guess what happens next? Jenny Lambert comes up to me right before English Lit and starts talking to me, saying how she misses me and wants to be friends again, and all this stuff. “Of course,” I say. “Why not?” But at the same time I'm feeling half flattered and half confused. Like, how does this fit into my plan of being a missionary at school? I mean, because I really do like Jenny (okay, I might not have liked everything she did last year, but as a person, I think she's okay). And we actually had fun together. But how can I be a “missionary” to someone like Jenny? And furthermore, how would I explain it to Beanie? Especially when it was greatly due to my friendship with Jenny (last year) that I dumped Beanie like yesterday's news. So now I'm in a quandary and I'm not sure what to do. Other than to pray.

  DEAR GOD, SHOW ME WHAT TO DO. CAN I POSSIBLY BE JENNY'S FRIEND AND REMAIN LOYAL TO BEANIE? AM I ONLY WANTING TO BE JENNY'S FRIEND BECAUSE SHE'S SO POPULAR AND IT SOUNDS LIKE FUN? AND IF I'M SUPPOSED TO BE A “MISSIONARY,” I'M SURE I SHOULDN'T BE HAVING FUN IN THE FIRST PLACE. OH, PLEASE SHOW ME WHAT YOU WANT. AMEN.

  TWELVE

  Saturday, September 8 (a fun day)

  Jenny called this morning to invite me to go out to the lake with her family. And since it was predicted to be in the nineties today, I gladly agreed. They have a really cool boat with a cabin and everything, but it's still fast enough to pull water-skiers. I've only water-skied a few times but managed to get up after only one false start where I swallowed only part of the lake.

  Jenny's mom packed a great picnic lunch, and all in all it was a really fun day. I always did like doing stuff with Jenny when she's away from her friends at school. It's like she's a whole different person.

  And today she told me that she's getting tired of their little clique and all the superficiality. “I'm ready to be a real person,” she said at the end of the day as we sat on the dock with our feet dangling in the water, waiting for her dad to load up the boat. “You seem real to me, Caitlin. Not like some of my friends who can only think about one-upping somebody else.”

  I thanked her and considered telling her the only reason I was real (whatever that might mean) was probably due to God, but somehow I just didn't say it.

  Then she went on. “It's my senior year, and I decided not to try out for cheerleading because I'm sick and tired of playing games. I'm just going to be myself, hang with whomever I please, and just see what happens.”

  “I think that sounds like a great plan,” I agreed. “In fact, it's pretty much what I intend to do too.” I didn't mention that I'd also intended to tell everyone who would listen about God. But frankly, I wasn't doing such a hot job of that right at that moment.

  We chatted some more about being real and being who we really were, and then it was time to go home. I had a fun day, and yet I felt sort of guilty when it was all said and done. Did I feel guilty for having a good time with a good friend? Or was it because of the things I didn't say? But then am I supposed to do nothing but talk about God? Or are there times just to hang out and be normal? Then again, what is “normal” anyway? For some reason I feel a little confused right now. But on the other hand, I'm tired and don't really want to think about it too hard.

  Friday, September 14 (finding normal)

  To tell the truth, I don't really feel like writing in my diary much today. The only reason I'm writing is because it's been several days, and I've got a few minutes to kill. But it's not like I haven't been writing anything; I actually wrote a long letter to Josh just yesterday. And besides, I've been busy working after school, and then I've been doing a lot with Jenny lately too. We're becoming pretty good friends.

  I've tried to include Beanie, like inviting her to eat lunch together and stuff. And I think Jenny actually likes her. But Beanie seems to want to distance herself, like she looks down on Jenny or something. Now, that bugs me a lot, because I think just because Jenny's been “popular” doesn't mean that God doesn't want us to
hang with her, does it? I mean, does God like the loser types better than the popular types? I don't think so. And that might not even be what Beanie is thinking. I'm not totally sure. In fact, I haven't even talked to Beanie for a couple of days now. Maybe that's what's bugging her. But then, it's a two-way street–she can make the move to talk to me just as easily as I can to her.

  Anyway, I think I've written just about enough for now. Besides, Jenny's going to be here soon. I'm not sure what we're doing tonight, but I'm sure it'll be fun. And I have to admit, I'm enjoying just being a normal seventeen-year-old girl again. And I'm trying not to think too much about heavy things these days. I had my physical and the doctor told my mom that maybe the trip to Mexico had caused me to suffer stress, or perhaps I'd been having a little culture shock. Anyway, he told me to just take it easy. And that's just what I've been doing. So, is there anything wrong with that?

  Wednesday, September 19 (accusations)

  I'm not going to apologize for not writing in my diary every day. I'm just not going to do it. I'm tired of apologizing, and besides I've been pretty busy lately and life's been fun. Jenny and I are having a great time being seniors; we just do whatever we want, hang with whomever we want, and we don't worry about what anyone thinks. It's great! And we do try to include Beanie, really we do! And occasionally she actually joins in, but usually she doesn't. I'm not even sure why, but I think she may be jealous of Jenny. Still, I do lots of stuff with Beanie (I certainly have NOT dumped her), but I figure there's room in my life for more than just one friend. (Although I do consider Beanie to be my best friend and have told her as much, but I doubt she completely believes me.) And I still consider Andrea to be a good friend too, but since she goes to another school, it's more natural not to hang together so much. What's wrong with having a variety of friends anyway?

  But that's not how Beanie sees it. And I guess it should come as no surprise when she calls me up tonight and says some pretty mean things. At least I think they're mean. She says she's just trying (in her words) to speak the truth in love. So she proceeds to tell me how she went to church tonight and Pastor Tony was preaching on this very subject, and now she feels like she's supposed to come home, call me up, and tell me all about it. “Thanks anyway,” I tell her, “but if I'd wanted to hear Tony's sermon, I would've gone to church myself.”

  Well, talk about opening a can of worms. She then feels it's her Christian responsibility to tell me that she's “worried about my spiritual condition.” Those were her words! And I'm wondering, who is she to worry about my condition? I mean, this is the girl who got herself pregnant last year, was nearly suicidal, and pretty much a great, big mess. But do I mention these uncomfortable subjects? No way! But as a result, Beanie just launches into this little sermonette about how she used to look up to me in spiritual things, but now she thinks I'm just throwing everything away in order to be Jenny Lambert's best friend.

  “I am not Jenny's best friend!” I shoot back at her. “We're just good friends. And besides, I thought you and I were trying to reach out to people at Harrison–”

  “Have you told her about Jesus, Caitlin?”

  I resent the question and don't even want to answer, but I give it a try. “You know there's more than one way to share something with someone,” I begin, feeling a little hopeless. “Maybe I want to build a friendship with her first, and then I can share later.”

  “Well, that's perfectly fine, Caitlin, but I'm just wondering who's influencing whom here? Every day, I see you starting to act more and more like Jenny and less and less like yourself. It seems like you just don't care about the same things anymore. And I can't figure it out. I mean, would you just throw away everything God has done for you to be friends with Jenny Lambert?”

  Now I know Beanie really does care about me (we've been through too much together to believe anything else), but the tone of her voice is getting pretty sharp, and she sounds genuinely mad. And frankly she's really hurting my feelings. But I don't tell her that. I only tell her she's being totally ridiculous and that I'm sorry she feels this way. There seems to be little else to say, and we both hang up. And now I feel absolutely lousy.

  But the truth is, this really doesn't have all that much to do with Jenny Lambert. And no, I wouldn't throw God away for Jenny, or anyone for that matter. At least, I hope not. But I do think I might be using Jenny's friendship as a distraction maybe (not that I'm using Jenny because I do believe we are friends, really and truly). But spending time with her might be sort of an escape from something I don't quite want to face just yet.

  Okay, maybe I know exactly what it is that I'm trying to escape, but I don't want to admit it. You see, it's hard to put these feelings down into words. I'm not ready to see them in bold black ink just yet.

  So maybe I can deal with this tomorrow.

  Friday, September 21 (apologies and stuff)

  Today (after a day of silent treatment times two yesterday) Beanie made the first move and apologized to me. I told her I was sorry too, but that I was confused about some things (I didn't go into detail). But we ended up hugging and crying. And Jenny watched the whole thing with amusement, then told us that she loved how “real” we were, then invited us to go to the football game with her tonight. To my amazed wonder, Beanie agreed to come and was even a good sport the whole time. We all ended up laughing and joking and having a fun time.

  After the game, we went out for pizza. A lot of kids were there and it was pretty wild and messy. And afterwards, Beanie and I talked Jenny into hanging around and helping to clean up the mess (Beanie's idea, although I agreed it was a good one). At first, Jenny thought we were joking, but then I pointed out the couple who owned the place looked harried and tired and would probably appreciate it. So then she just jumped right in. Well, just as we were finishing up, the guy came up and commented on what nice young ladies we were, to which Beanie added, “It's only because of Jesus in us.” And I nodded, not really wanting to give a public testimony but not wanting to put Beanie off again either.

  Then the guy says, “Oh, that's nice. You're Christian girls then?”

  To which Jenny answers proudly, “Just them, not me.”

  The guy chuckles and picks up a loaded tray. “Well, you two will have to get to work on your friend then.”

  I feel kind of embarrassed, but Jenny just laughs. “It's okay that you two are Christians,” she says somewhat patronizingly, “we can still be friends.”

  Well, I suppose that's a start.

  Sunday, September 23 (suspicions begin)

  After church today, Beanie and Andrea and I went to the mall. And while we were getting a snack, Beanie ups and says, “I think Jenny Lambert is anorexic.”

  Now let me tell you, I'm already getting pretty defensive when it comes to Jenny, but this comment totally throws me for a loop. “What are you talking about?” I ask incredulously.

  “I just think she is.”

  “Beanie, I thought you were starting to like her–”

  “This has nothing to do with that,” she declares as Andrea watches with curious interest.

  “But why are you saying that?” I just roll my eyes and keep from mentioning anything about how Beanie put on a little weight with her pregnancy, which still hasn't come off. “Is it just because Jenny's thin?”

  “No, it's more than that. Open your eyes, Cate.”

  Now I'm trying not to be offended. “Beanie, you're a Christian, and you know we're not supposed to judge others. But here you go, coming down on Jenny again. I don't think it's right.”

  “Yeah,” agrees Andrea, who's never even met Jenny.

  Beanie holds up her hands defensively. “Look,” she begins in a softer tone. “The only reason I'm mentioning it at all is because I'm concerned. And I think you've one of her best friends now, Cate. I just thought you should be aware is all.”

  “Aware of what?” I snap.

  “That she could have anorexia nervosa, a condition that commonly affects teenage girls who–�
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  “Enough!” I slam my soda cup down. “I don't need a textbook explanation on anorexia, Beanie, I know what it is. Good grief, I've even been accused of having it myself, which is totally ridiculous.”

  “Sorry, but you were acting so dense, I wasn't sure.”

  Now to my relief, Andrea breaks in. “So, Beanie, tell us why you're so sure that Jenny is anorexic.”

  “Well, first of all, have you ever seen her eat anything?”

  I considered this. I mean, I've shared lots of meals with Jenny. But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I'd ever actually seen her consume a piece of food. She'd fiddle with food and talk and joke a lot. “I've seen her drink soda,” I offer.

  “Yeah,” agrees Beanie. “Diet soda.”

  “Lots of people drink diet soda.”

  “I do,” says Andrea helpfully.

  “Yeah, but you're having a giant pretzel with it. Jenny doesn't eat real food.”

  “That's crazy.” I shake my head in disbelief. “Jenny's a perfectly normal girl. She's not anorexic.”

  “Well, I didn't expect you to believe me,” says Beanie, clearly dismayed.

  “It's not that I don't,” I say. “But I think you're being too hard on her.”

  She shrugs. “I just thought since you're her friend, you might want to keep your eyes open, just in case you can be of any help.”