The first of two stories

I'm going to write about this out of order because I want to think this part of the story through.

Yesterday there was some crazy happenings here on the farm. I ended up calling to police, and being involved in a life threatening situation. Due to this fact I did not sleep at my house, I stayed with Micah's mom.

That is the story I want to tell, at her house, we were discussing her day, because it had been filled with one thing after another to be topped off with a call from me because of my situation. I felt so incredibly bad for imposing, but I was super sketched out with the whole situation.  Anyway, one of her friends shows up to the house while we're talking. Her name is Stephanie, she is very loud, an actress, and has recently had to come to grips with the fact that her mother knew she was abused as a child and did nothing about it. Basically she's having to relive trauma that occurred 40 years ago.

I sat and I just listened to the stories, being regaled by this woman. The life she's had. The horrors visited upon her, yet at the same time, the amazing people brought into her life, and listening to the lives she's effected.  At one point during the midst of these tales, Danette (micah's mom) started explaining who I was to Stephanie. The first thing used to describe me was "Christian" followed by attributes of Christianity, hope, love, patience- etc. I don't really remember. I was completely embarrassed by it, and also, strangely, incredibly put off by being referred to as a Christian first and foremost.  As if that defined me.
Yet it does.
Yet it doesn't.

I want to be defined by the attributes of Christianity, but I don't want the title. I think there are too many negative connotations even to me.
Even still there are so many things that I disagree with, that comes standard with the term of Christianity.

As I got up to go to bed, Stephanie said "I'd hug you, but I'm sweaty."  I just looked at her with that look that says 'don't be an idiot' and held out my arms. She stood up and hugged me, and then broke down in tears and asked me to pray for her. I immediately sat down on the floor in front of her and took her hands and started praying. I had no idea what to pray, and even now I couldn't tell you what I said. But I prayed and then she prayed and I prayed again.  It was incredibly powerful.  I couldn't tell you the purpose of prayer. It means different things to different people. But this was a moment in which God was able to show his love.  I can't describe it better than that.
I went to bed- knowing that that was the reason I was there that night.
How bizarre.