A Very Lucky Girl

I took a chance a few months ago when I saw @CollegeTownLife advertising for freelance writers on Twitter. I responded to their plea for articles and sent one in. I never heard back. So, I am not good enough. Yet.  I wrote about the epedimic of campus preachers that ignites when springtime starts.  What you can find at an on-campus crazy preacher gathering Springtime is in the air. With its gentle breezes comes the smell of free snow cones, the sweat of students tanning studying for finals on the lawn, and the harsh rants of a Bible-thumping preacher ignoring all rules of the bike lane. Chances are, Brother Jed or Pastor Micah has made an appearance on your campus already and you’ve been privy to the three typical scenes provided for your study-break pleasure. 1.      The focus on sex: For a religious activist, the guy is excessively focused on sexual sin. Bedazzled with anti-homo pins and “no porn!” buttons, he shouts at the ladies wi...

On Sunday I went to Life Church with two of my favorite people in the whole wide world, Megan and Tyler. All was fine and dandy until Craig Groeschel (the pastor) convinced me with sucker punch wisdom that I don't open my Bible enough. Let me explain. You see that blue book leaning against the wall in the corner? That's the Holy Bible. Want to know how long it's been sitting there unopened? YEAH, I'LL BET YOU DO. I'm not telling. I do read the Bible regularly, Tyler and I do daily verses from the YouVersion Bible App that Life Church produces (yes, we are the cutest couple in all rooms at all times, how'd you know?) But I don't read it in print. I have been known to rant against the atrocity of all books being available digitally now, classics such as Little Women and Anne of Green Gables should stay page-TURNERS, not page-swipers. But what's the most classic of them all? The Bible. Do I treat it like my worn copies of my favorite reads? No, it sits ...

I've attended LifeChurch the past two Sundays (with a really cool guy, might I add--I'm a definite fan) and loved every minute of it. I've had an up and down relationship with the institution of church throughout my life, especially recently. It was never an option when I was growing up (still isn't when I'm at home) and for that reason my natural obstinacy would kick in. If you're going to make me do something I automatically lose all motivation...not the best character trait I have. A lot of churchgoers I have interacted with have turned out to be some of the most judgemental people (myself included). And that is why I have problems with a message like the one I heard this most recent Sunday. The basic idea was that we are tortured beings. We are tortured by our past mistakes and by the lies that perpetuate their existence that we believe. To be free from the burden of a tortured soul we confess to God (1 John 1:9) and (this is where I waver in my agreement)...

On Saturday I turned the last page of "Sun Stand Still", written by Steven Furtick, pastor of Elevation Church in North Carolina (one of my favorite places in the world). The basic premise is a call to demand the impossible from a God that is capable of anything. Which is so much easier said than done. My impossible right now? I'm desperately trying to earn a B in Geology. Is it selfish to ask for divine intervention? Because it looks like I can't do it on my own rock trivia alone.  Furtick challenges readers to have the audacity to ask God to reveal his glory, no matter what.  "he's ready to act if we will be bold enough to ask, not just for a good day or a better life, but for the impossible"-Steven Furtick I remember during my elementary school years, and even into middle school, praying in the carpool line with Shari and Oakes before school. Shari kept her eyes open of course, safety first!, but I would scrunch my eyes closed tight and clasp my ...

Growing up, my parents took me to church all the time. Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, Wednesday nights, the doors were open? The Arceneaux's were there. The churches I remember attending are Brentwood Baptist, Bayleaf Baptist, Westgate Memorial Baptist, etc...notice a trend here? During my 4th through 9th grade years I attended an Episcopalian school, so the liturgies are not unfamiliar. However, when Savannah invited me to Ash Wednesday Mass to kick off the start of Lent, I knew I'd be out of my comfort zone. First, let me preface by saying I don't intend to offend anyone. These are merely my observations, some perhaps incorrectly based on social cliches. From the very start Savannah and I joked about the connotations of a baptist in a catholic church. I had partaken in a chicken sandwich only an hour earlier and I confessed my sin to Savannah while she rolled her eyes and said, "yeah you better watch out..they might breathalyze you for meat. good luck getting th...