I am small.

I’m just so small.

I’m this tiny creature. I don’t have the benefit of seeing it all from the beginning. I don’t have the benefit of seeing through to the end. I am just this tiny little thing.

I am one of seven billion. I am one of four. I forgot that for a moment, that I am one of four. And in that new one, after the loss of the other one, perhaps the promise of all this will be seen.

But I must remind myself of how very miniscule I am. Because sometimes I get to thinking that as special as He considers me is how special I am by my own merits, and that simply isn’t true.

Do I ask God why He’s done this? Do I recognize how small this thing is? Do I ask, knowing how small it is, but still longing to understand?

I do.

There are times when it is difficult not to worry if I’m doing this right. There are times when waiting on God to move seems like sitting on my hands and I just want to Do Something. To make it better? To make it worse? Sometimes it doesn’t seem to matter. I want to Do Something, I want to make my way in the world.

But I can’t, being tiny as I am. And I don’t know the plans that He has for me, and how I can lead myself astray. I don’t know the way He will work or how things are being brought to fruition throughout this quiet and still time. But . . . sometimes I am pained still, knowing that this is how it must be.

This is the Lord’s doing. It is marvelous in our eyes.

I don’t watch YouTube regularly. In fact, I stay away from it expressly, and that’s mostly because I’m afraid that I might accidentally stumble across some amateur porn or something that’s been snuck into the middle of a really juicy socially conscious diatribe against like . . . jerks who refuse to pass the Equal Pay Act or something. But luckily for me not everyone feels like that. While browsing a blog called Feminist Allies in my evermore crazed search for like minded bloggers, I came across this.

(Begins at 4:36. Tried to find one that only had the second segment but couldn’t.)

And though this particular selection isn’t entirely G-rated, I really enjoy the sentiment.  I like this description of love. It’s what I think of it myself.

Like a friend of mine said, “I’m a real sexual deviant: I’m a virgin.”

Welcome to the life of a born again virgin.

A little about me: I’m twenty eight years old and gave up my virginity when I was twenty. For no good reason, mind you. Of course, there are . . . pretty much no good reasons if you’re having sex outside of marriage. It doesn’t matter if you’re engaged to be married, or if you think you really really love someone, or what else. Sex is meant for your spouse, and that’s it. End of story, case closed. Check the Bible if you don’t believe me.

I feel I can speak on this with some authority, or at least more than enough experiential knowledge. Over the course of the past eight years, I’ve had several “lovers”, which is really just a clever, sweet sounding euphemism for sexual partners. I won’t go into the “why” right now, but let me try and explain the “then what”.

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