It's 10:07 AM. I'm at school. There's this student in front of me playing Mario Kart. How? I don't know.

So I realize that as each day goes by, I'm earnestly seeking after fellow brothers and sisters at school that I can possibly relate to. I look at their lives, their actions, or possibly that little piece of jewelry around their necks that "identifies" them as a prince or princess of the Living God. However, I'm reading this book that Eric lend me. So far, I'm only on page 40. But you know me, I've already cried a couple of times just by reading the stories. These people lived hard core. So theres this one story about a man in Colombia who was persecuted. I didn't quite relate to the situation because I've never been held at gunshot. Well, anyway, so this man, he knew that he was going to die, but instead of pleading with the soldier to not kill him, and let him live, he says "Christ loves you". And the soldier didn't kill him. Duuuude.

The idea that I look for supposedly "hardcore" Christians in school is now beyond me. I'm looking for the hardcore Christian in myself. If hypothetically, there's this new law that I was to put an idol in my house and I refused, am I willing to go to jail, and give them the chance to kill me?

to be continued...(the bells about to ring)