People change. I delighted in most school transfers growing up. I could reinvent myself. I worry now that my bosses still see in me the twenty-one year old girl that they hired while now I pretty much am the one to tell them how things (procedurally, not policy) work.
I am not Orthodox. Loud and clear. Don't claim it. Am very adamant when someone says I'm Ortho because Alex is. (We all know that's not correct.) I am also not Baptist because my father was Baptist. I'm not one of you, with your 'one of us' chant, which isn't all of you lumped together but a disturbing quality of every denomination ever. However, converting is not the only way to grow towards other groups of Christians.
I think my post about going to the church in Alabama, the first one, where I was so ashamed that I bowed to another person and saw a lady pray to an icon and was so scared I thought I might go to Hell-- yeah that post-- I think that scared some very normal people who happen to be Orthos. It shouldn't. That's how it looked to me. You don't have to convince me. For better or worse, as the saying goes, I'm stuck. And I chose this life. Still there's no reason not to be honest. And it was scary.
Tonight, while I was examining holy rolls to see if I could guess which one Alex would most prize (pretty radonkulous, I get you want to offer your best, but also people's best is different and that is SO important to note for me), I realized, that, while I thought a lot of times that Orthos are superstitious, in particular that night where the lady laid a tinfoil bound bouquet of fake flowers to a picture and prayed to it, I was the one superstitious. Scared honestly so I wouldn't confront me then, but scared for no reason. I wasn't doing it, and I should have faith in God to protect me. Alex said it brought her comfort. It did. She was praying for her husband overseas in war. He was right. While I don't think human beings can answer prayers or even that dead people can influence our omnipotent God, there's no reason for me to be afraid.