And yes, I do not always resist them. Moreover, sometimes I even allow myself to enjoy them. Without pangs of conscience, without running to confession with eyes full of tears. Not because I have turned away from God - on the contrary. I simply cannot believe in a God who would want me to live in eternal guilt and self-flagellation. After all, He gave us freedom of choice, gave us desires, gave us temptations. Could all this really be just a trap?

No. I think He wanted us to learn through experience. Even if this experience sometimes turns out to be... well, let's say, not quite from the prayer book.

Sometimes I meet people who expect some kind of sterile holiness from a religious woman. As if faith automatically makes you boring, unattractive, devoid of passion. But it’s just the opposite. It seems to me that faith makes feelings deeper. I don’t attach importance to coincidences, I look for meanings. I don’t run from intimacy, but I don’t confuse it with something empty. I know the price of touch. I know what it means to hold someone’s hand and pray silently: “Let everything be well with him.”

I’ve had different periods. There were loves that made my head spin. There were sleepless nights where everything seemed possible. And then there was the morning, and I went to church — not to repent, but simply to be near the One who doesn’t leave. And He didn’t ask who I spent the night with. He just was. As if He knew: all this is also part of my path.

Of course, sometimes I’m tormented by doubt. Am I being too free in my interpretations? But then I read lines from the Scriptures that are so loving and patient that it becomes clear that we are truly accepted as we are. And this does not give the right to do evil, no. But it gives space to be imperfect. Sinful. Real.

I do not pretend. If I flirt, I do it consciously. If I desire someone, I accept it. I know how to refuse, but I do not make a tragedy out of it. I know how to agree - and not make excuses. I like to feel that I am alive. Not plastic, not with pursed lips, not always in the pose of "I can't". I do not live by the formula "a good girl means worthy of love". Love is not earned, it is accepted.

I do not know how things will turn out in the future. Maybe I will have a family. Maybe I will not. Maybe I'm one of those who just walk, look back at the sunset and say: "Thank you for this day, it was beautiful." Or maybe I'm one of those who will sit in the kitchen with you, drink tea, argue about the meaning of life and, perhaps, secretly touch your hand so as not to interrupt you, but to show: I'm listening. I'm close.

This path of faith is strange. There are no absolute answers, but many questions. And this is its beauty. Because doubting, I still go. Falling, I get up. Sometimes - even with pleasure, because falling into someone's arms, for example, is also falling. Only with love.

With warmth,
one honest sinner.

Lana Banana