Gracious.

Dear Fleur.
Currently home alone after church listening to a mix of Switchfoot, Little Joy, and Beirut. I am kind of doing homework. I cleaned up all the breakfast dishes and got distracted. I'm still distracted. I'm even tempted to read some more Jane Eyre. This morning I spent almost and hour reading Jane Eyre. I barely had time to fix my hair.

Last night everyone was busy. Literally everyone. So I sat and drew pictures of birds and watched a movie about Nazis and swing dancing. That wasn't a very good idea. If you could have seen me you would have thought I was pathetic. It made me cry so hard.
Ever since I was about twelve I think, I've had this tender spot about World War II and Nazi Germany. In my textbook that year, there was a picture of the piles of shoes at the concentration camp. I cried for hours in my bedroom over that picture. I can't handle anything concerning that war now.
"The Book Thief" kills me every time.

I was reading in Ezekiel, and I actually found something I liked. (I've recently come to the realization that I'm very biased in my Bible reading and prefer certain books. I should work on this.) It was in chapter 18, and surprised me.
22All his transgressions that he hath committed, they shall not be mentioned: in his righteousness that he hath done he shall live.
It suddenly struck me that no matter what we did or do, we won't get to heaven and have God reprimand us. He's not even going to mention our sins. I was blown away by that. It will be like we didn't even commit them. Any of them. He's not going to say anything but "Welcome home child."
Even if we added to a pile of shoes.
If there's a definition for grace, it's that.

So now I think I will finish my Psych paper and draw more birds and fall more in love with Mr.Rochester.
I want to hang my christmas lights back up in my bedroom.
Love, Bel.