“Are you a Christian?”

I blinked and then cracked a smile because I knew exactly what he meant by the question, and it had nothing to do with how much I prayed or went to church.

“Yeah, I am, why?” I grinned, waiting to hear his answer.

“You just seem,” he waved a hand at me while trying to find the right word to describe how I just seemed -- “very straight-laced,” he finally conceded.

I laughed. “What does that have to do with me being a Christian?”

“I don’t know. Southern Christians just seem very, ya know…”

“Goody-good?” I suggested. I was thoroughly amused.

“Yes!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Goody-good.”

I had this conversation while at the fish market in Seattle this past summer on a day in early August with one of the guys I’d met during my first week in the city three months prior. We didn’t get to talk much more because I had to leave for work, but in the eight blocks it took me to get to the Grand Hyatt, I couldn’t stop thinking about what his perception of Christianity was, how skewed it was, how off his view of the South was, and how the two correlated.

Because here’s the truth in what it means to be a Christian. Just because I’m a Christian does not under any circumstances mean that I don’t make mistakes. Actually, because I grew up going to church and developed a strong faith, I’m pretty aware of the how many mistakes I make, and I ask for forgiveness for them and guidance to do better every day. Am I perfect? Nope. Does that matter? Nope. Why? Because as a Christian the first thing you’re taught is forgiveness.

Growing up, we were taught that all of our mistakes and sins are forgiven; all you have to do is ask for it. Now, that’s the easy part. Practicing forgiveness isn’t always as easy as asking God for it. Asking other people for forgiveness isn’t always as easy as asking God for it. But here’s what I love about being in my early 20s and figuring my life out as a Christian: because I was raised to know that I’m not perfect, that I’m supposed to make mistakes, and that this is okay with God, it is much easier for me to accept people for who they are not for who I think they should be, and I make much deeper friendships because of it.

In college you spend a lot more time with your friends than you did in high school. This means that you get to see a lot deeper into your friends’ lives than maybe you did in high school, and this automatically opens the door to see more of their flaws, their quirks, their annoying little habits that drive you bonkers. But because of the way I was raised -- and because I love my friends -- I find it easy to accept these things, even when they don’t think they deserve it. None of us are perfect. We aren’t supposed to be. My faith taught me that.

I’m not one to go around talking about faith and religion. I don’t go to church as much as I should, and I don’t attend a Bible study or youth group or anything like that. However, just because I don’t do these things does not mean I don’t have a strong faith. Because I do. I’m just more private about it. If you ever see me driving down the road and it looks like I’m talking to myself, odds are I’m doing one of two things: I’m either singing, or I’m praying. And unless I’m excessively bobbing my head in some way that could maybe be some kind of rhythm, I’m probably praying, and not in a hands-clasped-together-Dear-Jesus formal kind of way. Mostly I’m just talking like I would to a best friend.

I have conversations with God like this all the time. Especially when I’m in the car because it’s one of the rare times that I’m completely alone and can talk out loud without anyone else hearing me and because I pray better when I can talk aloud and hear myself. Don’t ask me why, but I do. I come to a better conclusion that way.

I really hate when people expect me to not be okay with more liberal ideas and practices because I’m from the South, and because I’m a Christian. Sure, I have my morals and values that I was raised with and have honed into a list I’ve made my own for my life, but nowhere on that list is it written that it’s my place to judge anyone else’s life. I know what’s right and what’s wrong, and I’m not afraid to have a conversation with someone I really care about if I think they’re going down a wrong path or stand up for someone when I think they’re right. And with that said, gay marriage was a huge deal with summer, so let’s talk about that for a second.

I’ve had a girl roommate who has a girlfriend. My ex-boyfriend now has a new boyfriend. And I’ve had friends who really just aren’t sure who they like.

None of these things have bothered me in the slightest. Okay, the ex-boyfriend thing was a bit of a shock, but let me tell you, after the initial reactions played out, I was okay with it pretty fast. I already knew deep down, and I 110 percent accepted it. Is it the way I live my life? Nah, I’m pretty secure in liking boys, and boys only, but in no way is it my place to tell someone who they cannot love, and in absolutely no way is it my place to preach at them telling them the way they feel is not how God wants them to feel, and that they should change. It actually makes me physically angry even thinking about this because -- news flash -- you don't know what God wants. No one does. And also news flash: God made you the way you are. Don't tell me that I’m perfect in God’s eyes because he made me the way I am and then turn around and tell me that the way a gay person loves someone of the same sex is wrong. Um. No. Please reread that and realize how backwards that logic is.

I’m not asking you to like it. Or accept it. Or even acknowledge it. You don’t have to agree with it; you don’t have to understand how a girl could love a girl in the way you love your significant other. You don’t. As Christians, this is what we should be preaching and teaching. It’s okay that you don’t understand it. But don’t judge it, and don’t say that God condemns it. For those of you ready with Bible passages to throw at me, just FYI -- according to the Bible, divorce is wrong too. Women shouldn’t be allowed to do a whole lot of things we do, anyway, and I’m pretty sure there’s something about how we should dress in there somewhere that went out the window in the 1920s. Don’t pick and choose your Bible versus to fit your personal vendetta; you can be shot down real quick.

Sure, the Bible says some really weird stuff that we don’t exactly follow anymore, but here’s the overall messages we should remember: love thy neighbor. Do not judge one another. Do not try to understand God’s will. As Christians, even when we do judge, we remember and know these things, and we do try our best to practice them; we’re just not always perfect.

Lastly, just because I’m a Christian doesn’t mean I don’t worry about my future, and it doesn’t mean I don’t get mad at God. I’m a worrywart when it comes to things I can’t control. My love life, for example, is something I can’t not worry about. Graduating? Yeah, sure I worry, but I know that I’m good at the career I want to have, and I’ve worked really hard to get to the starting point I’ll have. I’m prepared to work my butt off to get to where I want, and I know because of how passionate I am about cooking, and how much I want this as a career, that I’ll get to where I want to go -- eventually.

What I don’t know however is when I’ll run into the guy I’m supposed to marry, or if there is one, or if I already know him, or if I’m going to be 47 when I get married, and never have kids -- just a lot of cats. Thoughts like these spiral out of control in my head all the time because there is nothing I can do about it. I really think God just laughs at me, sometimes. I think he’s just smugly sitting up there watching me freak out about something silly like this and laughing at me shaking his head like, “You have no idea what’s coming, and I love it.” It’s these things that piss me off at God.

I’ve yelled and screamed and cursed God out on several occasions. When I found out my friend had cancer, I drove three miles back to my dorm sobbing my eyes out and screaming at the top of my lungs about just where I thought God could go at that very moment. When he took yet another friend away from me when he suddenly didn’t come back to school, I stopped talking to God for two weeks after calling him rather rude names, and when we moved my grandma into an assisted living home about a month after I found out my friend was sick, I very angrily begged him to give me a little emotional slack.

I never feel bad for getting angry at God, and the way I see it, if God wants me to be close to him, I’m going to get mad at him just like I would any person in my life. You can’t have a relationship without anger. It’s not healthy. Plus, if God’s going to be in control and put me through all the bad stuff even when I ask him to stop, then I’m sure as heck not going to feel bad about not always liking it. It’s only fair.

But God and I are cool like that. We’re on bestie level, and that’s the way I like it. Religion can be so formalized sometimes, so stiff, but that’s not what I got out of going to church (almost) every Sunday when I was a kid. God made me the way I am for a reason. He puts me through what I go through for a reason. He tests me for a reason, and he makes me wait for a reason. Does this mean I’m always happy about it? Absolutely not, but I don’t think I’m supposed to be. I listen to God all the time. I try to be better about listening and not worrying all the time. I try to do what I think he wants me to do all the time. And a lot of the time, I fall short. But that just gives me a reason to do better tomorrow.