five years ago, today.

Inspired by my friend, Carissa, who un-earthed a blog entry from weblog past, I decided to log in to my first online journal--ever-- on xanga (username: QueenAngelPinHeart) to read...stuff. Five years ago, exactly on this date--incidentally, also a Thursday-- this is what I wrote:

i wish i had someone to look pretty for.
someone to get butterflies in my stomach for.
someone to think about... hmmm maybe every other day.
someone that feels the same way.
someone to hold my hand.
someone who'll understand, even when it's hard
someone that i can serve and lift up
someone that i can't give up.
someone who'll hold me when things aren't so easy
someone who thinks i'm great, even though i feel sleazy
but as i think about all those things that i had written
i find that i should already be smitten
because Jesus is all those things and more
i don't know why i have to keep on searching

"Someone who thinks I'm great, even though I feel sleazy?!" Yeah. Uh, yeah. A little painful to read. I laughed a lot so it's ok if you laugh a lot, too. Hey, I was 18 years old! I was an 18 year old who, apparently, did not fully understand the word "sleazy," or at least, how to use it in the proper context. But hey, maybe I was a little sleazy back then. HAHA. Oh man. And who the heck was I thinking about when I was writing my sappy little poem? Nevermind. Maybe I don't want to remember.

It is interesting to see, however mushy or starry-eyed I was about love or falling in love, I still recognized that in all my longing, I should long the most for Jesus. Obviously, I had absolutely NO clue what that meant when I was 18. I'm barely grasping the concept now, as a 23 year old, about to turn 24--in a month! AH!

Everlasting Father, Amen.

Today, Dr. Erik Thoennes, one of the teaching elders at Grace Evangelical Free Church in La Mirada, CA, spoke about Jesus as the Everlasting Father. In "light" of the Christmas season the church is doing a four-part series based of off Isaiah 9:6-7:

"For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father and Prince of Peace. "

In this morning's sermon, Dr. Thoennes encouraged the church in reminding us of Jesus' role as Everlasting Father in our lives. He talked about the context in which the prophet Isaiah spoke the prophetic words of Isaiah 9--it was during a time when God's people were in turmoil and in anguish due to the impending Assyrian invasion. Their rebellion and turning away from God has brought this disaster to them, but still, God promised them Hope:

"Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end.
On the throne of David and over his kingdom,
to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this."

How amazing it is to have an everlasting Father who cares for us and that even our rebellion cannot keep Him from caring for us the way He intends to. He is a Father who is more than capable of taking care of us, unlike our earthly fathers, who are limited in there finite existence, who are bound to disappoint us because they are not perfect. But Jesus IS perfect and He has taken care of everything: He died for the sins of the world, so that we would be free from the law of sin and come to know God! And there is nothing that we go through, nothing that we need, no problem or pain that we experience that Jesus cannot meet or fulfill, or even, understand. He knows us. And the way He cares for us, may not always be what we expect or want. But to be able to trust in a God who is an everlasting Father, I mean, what is time to an everlasting God?

So, why be impatient? Why, Linell, why?

shout outs...

To the Micu family. 2 great parents/mentors/people + 7 amazing kids.
I love this:


I can't wait to see all of you in about a week.

Naming my un-born child.

I did not intend for the title of my blog post to be so...creepy. Hah. Oh well.

You might find this surprising, since my affinity for children is borderline obsessive--but don't worry your kids are safe with me, I promise (can't guarantee I'll give them back though. Just kidding!) Anyway, as I was saying, you might be surprised to find out, that even though I love children, I have never really thought about potential names for potential children that I might produce someday. The reason for that is because thinking of potential children leads to thinking about potential husbands, or boyfriends, or weddings... stuff that I don't really care to think about or dwell on. Especially as of late, because believe it or not: boys stink. Sorry. They do. I try to stay away from them, or anything that has facial hair or speaks an octave lower than me.

Well, ok. It's not like I never think about weddings and/or stuff like that, I just try not to do it too much.

Anywho. Baby names. Ok well, today I ran across a name that I thought was...the greatest name. I recognize that that is a completely subjective statement and YOU may not agree with me, but I'm going to tell you anway. The name is... Milann (pronounced--carissa, help me out here--"mull-ahn"). Yeah. Like the city in Italy. I just think it's so... elegant. If God chooses to bless with me with a daughter (after he blesses me with a boyfriend who turns into a husband, etc), I am naming her Milann. Or at least that will be one of her names. She might have two.

Yeah, I know it's unorthodox. But I am a fan of unorthodox. After all, my real name IS Lenimfa.

White Elephant!

I love Christmas for many reasons: Christ's birth, the nativity, peppermint tuxedo mochas (white chocolate + hot cocoa + espresso + peppermint), making paper snowflakes, How the Grinch stole Christmas, christmas sweaters, christmas lights and A Very Rosie Thomas Christmas (fantastic Christmas album if you're looking for one to offset all the Nat King Cole that's playing on the radio). Christmas is also a season of a bajillion Christmas parties that we get invited to. And Christmas parties means gift exchanges. And the best kind of gift exchanging is white elephant, which is really more like a game than it is about getting presents.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with a white elephant gift exchange, it is simply this: a hilarious event, where people bring random/outlandish gifts instead of store bought, serious gifts under $10 (i.e socks, scarves, picture frames, etc). Apparently this tradition finds its origin from Asian countries-- more specifically Thailand and Burma-- that culturally regarded white elephants as holy beings, believed to bring fertility, prosperity and power. The people believed that, due to the nature of these creatures (and since the death of a white elephant would spell disaster), they needed to pampered and served with special foods, given elaborate housings, etc. However, due to large amounts of resources needed, only Kings were able to afford the "basic" upkeep. Anyway, to make a long story short, the origin of elephant gifts came from kings, when very displeased with an assistant, would give this un-lucky assistant the elephant as a "gift" of honor. And at first, the gift does seem like an honor, however, as the assistant tries to bear the financial (and probably emotional) burden of taking care of such a holy being, the novelty of the gift wears off. Elephant gifts were the cause of financial crippling for many of these unfortunate assistants. This I find ironic since these elephants were supposed to bring prosperity and power. Hmmm. Tsk. Tsk. Well anyway, a white elephant, therefore, has become a symbol of a prized possession, whose maintenance cost, exceeds it's worth.

I was first introduced to this phenomenon in highschool. And I don't mean to brag, but, I'm kind of like, really good at it. Really good at picking out elephant gifts, I mean. I attribute this ability to my quirky personality and having a natural propensity to be random and unintelligible. For example (s), one year I drew a life size portrait of myself (yes, it was 5 feet 4 inches long) and gave that away to a very lucky individual: my friend Stephanie. Another year, I found a chandelier in my garage and after asking my parent's for permission, I put said chandelier in a very large box and Kirk Obermann walked away with that beauty (talk about a prized possession exceeding it's worth.) I think it was the year after that, that I gave a $10 gift card from Baby's R Us, complete with a "congratulations on your new baby!" card. Then there was the statue of a fisherman. It was a very nice statue: picturesque and nostalgic, a lunch box in his right hand, a fishing pole in the left. The best part about him though was that he had a duck head...for a head. Oh and the list goes on and on: a framed poster of Oscar De La Hoya (the boxer), my phone number (haha, a little presumptous, I know), and a pink, heart-shaped dog-tag I had made at wal-mart that said "I've been to 2nd base and back,"--BASE was the name of the floor that I lived on for two years at Biola...it also happened to be on the 2nd floor of the dorm. Hence, the name "2nd Base," and all the immature jr. high jokes that came along with that. JP Robles was the one who walked away with that necklace/dog-tag. I still see him around campus, wearing that necklace, proudly.

Tonight, we're doing a white elephant at the Level 1 Nursing party at Jessika McKay's house. I get to go shopping today for that. How exciting! I am ready. Ready for what the Thrift store has in "store" for me. I am ready. Here I go.

Shortcomings

A prayer from "The Valley of Vision:"

O LIVING GOD,

I bless thee
that I see the worst of my heart as well as the best of it,
that I can sorrow for those sins that carry me from thee,
that is thy deep and dear mercy to threaten
punishment so that I may return, pray, live.
My sin is to look on my faults and be discouraged,
or to look on my good and be puffed up.
I fall short of they glory every day by spending hours unprofitably,
by thinking that the things I do are good,
when they are not done to thy end,
nor spring from the rules of thy Word.
My sin is to fear what never will be;
I forget to submit to thy will, and fail to be quiet there.
But Scripture teaches me that thy active will
reveals a steadfast purpose on my behalf,
and this quietens my soul,
and makes me love thee.
Keep me always in the understanding
that saints mourn more for sin than other men
for when they see how great is thy wrath against sin,
and how Christ's death alone pacifies that wrath,
that makes them mourn the more.
Help me to see that although I am in the wilderness
it is not all briars and barrenness.
I have bread from heaven,
streams from the rock,
light by day,
fire by night,
thy dwelling place and thy mercy seat.
I am sometimes discouraged by the way,
but though winding and trying it is safe and short;
Death dismays me, but my great high priest
stands in its waters,
and will open me a passage,
and beyond is a better country.
While I live let my life be exemplary,
when I die may my end be peace.

Conundrum.

Kids say the funniest things.

While babysitting the other night, I had to explain to Brody, age five, what the word "conundrum" meant--which he then applied to a real life situation, as you will see further on in the story.

The word had slipped out of my mouth, while I was talking to Brody's baby brother, Brenner, a newly adopted 21 month old Ethiopian baby. Brenner was insistent on reaching for my food, though he had his own bowl of mashed up bananas in front of him--which was his second option, since he rejected his mom's chicken noodle soup. "This is my grown-up food, Brenner," I tried to explain, but Brenner responded with an indignant, "No," followed by some gibberish. Angry gibberish. "Well, what a conundrum we have," I sighed as I tried to think of a more creative way to get Brenner to eat his mush. Brody, who had been engrossed in the construction of his new Lego police airplane, immediately piped in:

"Hey! What does that mean?"
"Hey, what does what mean?"
"Co..non...Conunderum?"
"Conundrum?"
"yeah, co-coh-nonde...rum."
"Um, people say it when there is a problem. Like Brenner not wanting to eat right now. That is a conundrum."
"Co-nun-derum."
"Yeah...and..."
"There! finished," Brody beamed proudly, as he placed the last piece of lego on his airplane. Seeing that Brody was more interested in his plane than a vocabulary lesson from his baby-sitter, I dropped the subject and once again, turned my attention to Brenner.

I decided to let Brenner out of his high chair since he didn't seem to0 hungry at the moment, trusting that when he did get hungry, he would eat his mush happily. As soon as Brenner's feet touched the floor, he made a bee-line for his brother's newly constructed Lego airplane and "CRASH!" with one fell swoop, Brenner knocked the plane onto the floor. I quickly looked at Brody, who looked more shocked than he was angry, and then I looked at Brenner, who was smiling awkwardly, knowing he had done something bad. Before I could say anything, however, Brody screamed, at the top of his lungs, "CONUNDERUM! Brenner! CO-NUN-DUN-DERUM!!!"

Pre-Homework bloggage.

I had all sorts of lofty ideals today about getting things done. I was going to get up at 8:00 this morning, get ready and do homework/study till 4:00pm, clean the kitchen and then head over to the Paschall's to babysit Ramie, Brody and Brenner.

Thus far, all I've done today is shower, journal for an hour and half, send a mass text to people I love and appreciate telling them how much I love and appreciate them, then I played guitar for an hour and now...I'm blogging. I think I've pretty much given up on whatever schedule I had for myself. Dahr. But it's ok because I felt like I was productive in a different way. I read 1 Thessalonians this morning and was greatly encouraged by this verse in particular:

Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful, he will surely do it. [1 Thessalonians 5: 23-24]

YES. God wins. He always wins. He's on my side...so I win, too. I hope that's not to blasphemous to say. I am not boasting in myself, but in Christ, through whom all things are possible. I love being a part of God's chosen generation. I hope I'm not coming off annoyingly optimistic. Would it help to say that life is hard? Because it sho' is. But life IS about sanctification, if you are loved by God. Still, that doesn't take the reality of painful situations away, but it does give us hope. As it says in 1 Thessalonians 5, that is why we put on the "breastplate of faith and love"--to protect our hearts-- and for a "helmet"--to protect our minds--the hope of salvation. While God does care amidst our trials and is so intimately involved in the details of our lives, He also has something greater for us, greater than even the greatest pain we might experience in our lifetime. And to be able to sincerely find hope and comfort in God's promises takes growth and growth takes time and the process of growing is the process of sanctification. God will help us see His glory in all things, in His perfect timing. And when it does happen, it is AWESOME.

With that said, I will now completely change the subject. Yesterday was my last clinical day at the hospital this semester and I got to spend it in the operating room. Yes, I got to observe a total hysterectomy (removal of a woman's uterus and cervix) and the best part of my day was when the surgeon placed the uterus and cervix in my gloved hands. YEAH I KNOW. Crazy. I thought he was just going to show me what a uterus looked like when he called me over to his side. I did not expect him to actually...give it to me. Well, he didn't give it to me. I didn't go home with another person's uterus in a jar. The doctor just handed it to me so I can say..."Yeah, I held a uterus." I eventually passed it to the nurse, who was waiting with a container, labeled "to Pathology." But wow, what a day, eh?

I cannot wait to finish nursing school--as fun as it is. I just want to be done with school. PERIOD. I told my roommates that I am throwing THE biggest party when I graduate in 2011. I also said, "Wouldn't it be great if that party happened to be a wedding? I mean, it would be so much more cost-effective to just have ONE big party instead of...two."

Haha, not that I'm in control of my life. But, hey...I can dream.

Oh, The Irony: what makes nursing students happy.

Today I gave 50 mg of Demerol mixed with 50 mg of Visatril via Intramuscular injection in the patient's dorsal gluteal, or right upper quadrant of the buttocks. Or to put in plain words: I gave someone a shot in the butt (or her right upper butt, if you want me to be more specific). The patient was in a lot of pain and that was the medication that her doctor ordered for her. And right before I gave my patient her shot, I thought to myself: how ironic it is that I would inflict more pain on this patient when she asked for relief. Apparently, Demerol + Visatril burns all the way in. Not to mention that I used a three inch needle to give it to her. Ouch.

But I had the best day of my life today because I had the opportunity to give that shot. I know that that is a weird thing to say and No! I don't know what's wrong with me!

Nursing school can be described in many words, in many ways, objectively--as per requirements of the California Board of Nursing-- and subjectively--because it can mean different things for different people. However, today I realized that if I can describe my experiences thus far in one word, I would say: Ironic. I mean, nursing students get excited about giving shots and doing finger sticks and starting IV's and watching a live open-heart surgery. Those are the things that we get "pumped" about. Things we get giddy about, things we give each other high-fives for.

The irony is this: Nursing students are being trained to help people and help them feel better, but in our training, we inflict pain on our patients, and... enjoy it. Though, I think the enjoyment itself is not directly related to what we're doing to the patient, but the exuding joy we feel is directly affected by what it is we are actually doing. Advancement and practice in any skill we're learning is always exciting. And let's not forget the competitive aspect of learning. Sometimes, people try to outdo one another on what we get to do while we're at clinicals. For example (based on a true story):

J: "Hey, I gave three units subq [subcutaneous injection] of insulin to my patient. She was like, so not going to let me, but then she was like 'ok,' and then I gave it in her deltoid."
K: "Oh...that's cool. I gave 50 units. In the abdomen."
J: "What? 50 Units? Really?
K: "Yup."
J: "Yeah, well...I had to give 12 oral meds today. All at 9:00. It was like, crazy busy. I was so frazzeled."
K: "No way! I got to watch a CT guided Renal Biopsy and it was like, the last one ever that they're going to do in this hospital. They had to sedate the patient cause he was all combative and didn't want to be laying on his stomach. And the needle the doctor used for the biopsy was 18 inches long! "
J: "AH! Fine! you win!"

We're all good sports. And I admit we are a little overzealous over picking patients who have a lot going on, or patients who have various procedures, medications or intense psychosocial issues. But like I said, all it means is that we want more practice, more experience. I mean, you'd want us to be good, well-practiced RN's right? Yeah, one of us could be your nurse someday.

We love surgeries, too. Which is kind of scary, I guess. The other day, a classmate of mine said: "So my OR [Operating Room] rotation is tomorrow and I was praying for a CABG [coronary artery bypass graft a.k.a open heart surgery]." I added to that by saying, "Well, I'm really hoping to see a lobotomy or maybe a craniotomy."

I admit that the reality of what we're hoping for, if one were to cross examine our "requests," is not the best of scenarios. In actuality, my classmate is hoping that someone will have a really bad heart attack, caused by occlusion of major arteries; and I'm hoping that someone out there will pass out from either a brain hemorrage or a tumor or maybe have some sort of major head trauma that will require a neurosurgeon to crack his skull open to fix or prevent further damage to the brain. I mean, what are the odds that someone would openly volunteer for such delicate and risky procedures saying, "I will gladly volunteer my body and sacrifice it in the name of science and for the sake of the curiously insatiable learning appetites of overzealous nursing students everywhere!"

What a strange world we/I live in. But it is the way it is. Ironic.

Lucky.

Every once in awhile I come across a song that I cannot stop listening to. This week, it's Jason Mraz's idealistically romantic tune, so appropriately titled,"Lucky." It's bubbly and sweet and one cannot help but bob their head to the song's nonchalant melody that is reminiscent of an innocent and child-like awe of romantic love. Colbie Callait, who actually wrote a song titled, "Bubbly," sings with Jason Mraz on this song. Their voices together blend very smoothly, like milk chocolate musical notes melting in your ears. It's like every musical fiber in my body...unwinds and I metaphorically, or literally, collapse on the floor in musical euphoria.

As a girl, I still think it's fun to listen to songs that talk about being "lucky in love." But I am also fully aware that romantic love is often too romanticized. I know that relationships take work, butterflies in my stomach or not, and there are no Prince Charmings or White Knights on White Horses anywhere on this planet, or this dimension, or this universe. Songs like "Lucky," reminds me of those stories shared by elderly people about how they met their wife or husband of 40 or more years and how they all claim that it was never that complicated when it came to loving someone. "You young people nowadays make everything too hard," one gentleman once told me. I told him that he may be on to something.

What the heck. I'm being such a...girl right now. Gross. Whatever. Listen to the song:

Perky-ness: no caffeine required.

Maybe it was because Thanksgiving break was one of the best Thanksgiving breaks I've had in a long time. But I was incredibly perky today. Then again, I was incredibly perky all of last week.

It was so good to be home. Last week at a glance:

-I enjoyed the potluck on Tuesday night with my college group and singing 80's classics with Pastor Paul after the small group ended. The funniest moment of the night was when one of the Russian guys asked if he could hug me, which he then followed with a request for my phone number. "What?" After college group, a group of us went to Megan Spain's HUGE house out in the country and hung out till 2:00 in the morning, playing guitar and singing random folk songs (or turning pop songs into folk songs).

- On Wednesday, I got to spend some downtime with my best friend, Cristi. And she insisted that we watch "Hope Floats," with Harry Connick, Jr and Sandra Bullock. Even though I gave her a hard time about the movie, I secretly liked it. But shhh, don't tell.

-Thursday: My family and I made homemade lumpia (or filipino egg rolls. click HERE to learn more) on Thanksgiving day. I know, so cute, right? My brothers and I had great conversations throughout the week and I am greatly encouraged by how they're growing up. Granted, they're not perfect, but it really means a lot to me when my brothers tell me, at random points of the day, that they love me a lot. I am a "words of affirmation" type of person. And my brothers were definitely very affirming. :)

-Friday: Broomball is always a fun time. My church goes once a month and we play at the Gateway Ice Center in downtown Fresno. I think I was being a little too competitive since I managed to knock a few people over during the game. After broomball, we hung out at In-and-Out. I started a small French-Fry fight (to which my new friend, Vlad commented, "I've never seen a girl throw french fries before." Funny). I also managed to spill Dave Ashjian's diet coke all over him and Cristi, who was sitting next to him. Oops.

-Saturday: Potluck at Russell, Mike and Garrett's place (a place I like to call "the Outhouse" because it is so "out there." hah). People brought different foods, including mashed potatoes from a box! Definitely a first for me. After dinner, we played team charades by a bonfire and I somehow, managed to be the prop for most, if not all, the scenarios given. FUN! After I left "the Outhouse," my parents and I and my brother Lenny (Lenard was working and was unable to join us), went out for sushi and then watched "Bolt" afterwards. I highly recommend that movie if you like cute and funny. Or if you like talking, obese hamsters stuck inside a ball. I give it 2 thumbs WAY up.

-Sunday: I was reminded that all good things in life come from God. Pastor Paul taught on this passage from James 1: 17-19:

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from^(B) the Father of lights^(C) with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.^[a] 18^(D) Of his own will he^(E) brought us forth by the word of truth,^(F) that we should be a kind of^(G) firstfruits of his creatures.

This brings us to today: I truly am thankful to be in a place where I can sincerely thank God for His grace, even when life is hard. Life has not been easy for the past year and a half. And I know that it has not been always easy to say that God is good. But today, I was able to reflect on the goodness of God by taking a step back and looking at the good and wonderful things in my life and things that He has taught me. This blessed my soul and my spirit GREATLY. Just thinking back on the week I've had and the blessings I continue to have in my relationship with the Father, through Jesus Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit, I am SO SO SO blessed. I am grateful that God is faithful, that He is good and un-changing. He has blessed me with a loving family, encouraging friends, a reconciled relationship with Him through Jesus Christ, an increasing knowledge and pursuit of Him, the nursing program, children that I can hang out with on a weekly or bi-weekly basis, a great place to live and wonderful roommates to live with...the list goes on and on. It is days like these that make the trials so worth it, because God's glory shines brighter and clearer. His goodness is no longer something lofty that I cannot understand. His goodness and His greatness becomes more and more real.

And last but not least:



this video says it all.

Goodbye facebook!

So, I decided to deactivate my facebook on Thursday. Well, it's temporarily deactivated, meaning that when I decide to have one again all I would have to do is sign in and the Facebook people will send me a confirmation email and my facebook would be restored just the way I left it. Neat, huh?

Why would I do such a thing, you may ask? Well, for a bunch of different reasons but mostly because I felt like I needed to. Yes, it was a small but strong nagging presence in the back of my mind that told me to. The last time I ignored this voice or presence when it told me to do something that I didn't want to do, what I didn't want to happen, happened anyway and it turned out worse than it would've been if I had just listened in the first place. Needless to say, I am learning to listen more intently to things that nag at me--it'll save me from a lot of unnecesary grief.

Anyways...I feel really good about being facebook free. I just feel...free. Mmmmm, yes. freedom. And now that I don't have a facebook, I'll be spending a lot more time on my blog. Haha...I love the internet, I guess.

HAHA!

So...last night while my roommates and I were playing Nerts (it's a de-stressing exercise), we decided that we needed some Hall & Oates action so we watched this video:



Oh...the 80's. So much fun. Please note the drummer in the background and his red leotard. We all thought it was Richard Simmons for a second.

Good morning...morning.

Sleeping in is a thing of the past for me. I'm not really saying that to brag but more to reflect on this weird phenomenon. It's like...God implanted a very small alarm clock in my brain--probably close to my cerebral cortex--that goes off at 5:00 every morning (except for the mornings that I have be at clinicals by 6:00, because I have to wake up at 4:30 on those days). Yeah, it's kind of entertaining-- that my eyes BLAST wide open when the sky is still dark and when I roll over to look at the time, it's always 5:00. Of course, I try to fight it as much as I could, but it's not much use.

I kind of like it. Kind of love it. How could I not...love it? It gives me more time in the morning to relax before I have to go to school. Waking up that early gives me more time to pray and dedicate the morning to the LORD and rely on His strength and provision to make it through the day. Not that I do it perfectly everyday. And it's not like I never grumble and complain. But...it is good. I love the faithfulness of God in the day-to-day. If He were not faithful, I would be lost.

Anyways, I am really excited to babysit today. I have been able to hang out with kids for the past three weeks and LORD knows that I've needed these opportunities. It's really cool! Children are so great, even if they are rambunctious and bratty, they still find joy in the simplest things in life. I think that is awesome. I think that's why I love kids so much. And no, it's not easy to watch kids. After all, they are little depraved human beings who are still learning appropriate boundaries. But it is a great privilege and opportunity to help shepherd little ones and to help them learn those boundaries. Not to mention that I get to listen to them and observe them as they try to figure out life. I was listening to a sermon the other day and the pastor talked about this very thing. He told a story about his son, John, who was three at the time. John, who recently discovered that there was a baby in his mother's tummy, climbed up on his mother's lap, opened her mouth and at the top of his lungs screamed, "HI BABY!!" into his poor mother's throat. SEE! Kids. So fun.

Last thing:
Thanksgiving break is fast approaching!! I'll be driving home to Fresno on Tuesday right after my Theory exam. YAY. I am excited to be home and to be with my family. I am excited to spend time with my amazing little brothers. I am excited to see the Micu's. I am excited to see Riverpark Bible Church people. I am excited to hang out with Cristi, Russell and etc. It will be so good to be away from school for a week and to be at a place where I can relax.

peace.

A different kind of soul...

Soul.
Not the Aretha Franklin, in her beaufont hair, waving her manicured nails in the air, demanding R-E-S-P-E-C-T kind of soul.
But the mind-bending, peace-like-a-river, it is well...with my soul, kind of soul.
the kind of soul that is frighteningly naked and vulnerable,
the kind of soul that is searching,
a soul that is learning,
to know, not just with my mind,
but with my heart.
It's the kind of soul that lead me to finally writing and finishing a song tonight.

I wanted to write a song that would reflect the process which God has been taking me through. And tonight God helped me. And I wanted to share, even though I feel awkward about it. But my hope is that this song would speak to you. And maybe it won't. But I still wanted to share:

Come to Jesus' feet
and lay your sorrows down
He will draw near to you
in ways so deep
and profound

chorus:
He says, "Come just as you are
And lay your burdens down."

So come just as you are.

O how beautiful it is
to see the glory of the LORD,
For we are broken people
who need a glorious God

chorus:
O come just as you are
and lay your burdens down

O come just as you are

bridge:
O rejoice in the hope!
O rejoice in the hope!

Beloved, rejoice in the hope
of the glory of God!

I'm working up the courage to record the song and post it. Hopefully, I will be able to have it up within the week. I've never really done that before. But hey, why not?

peace out.

Unfinished.

Lately, I've been writing songs. Err, I mean, I have had every intention of writing songs--I just haven't been able to finish anything that I start. I'm really frurstated. I used to do this thing, or rather have this ravenous...um, no, that's not the word I'm looking for. Doesn't make sense. SEE! I can't...write. Gah. *sigh* Whatever it was that made me write songs so effortlessly, whatever it was that caused lyrics and music to pour out of my body/soul/heart/mind...it is hybernating. Or at least, that's what I'm hoping it is doing. Its like...nothing is sticking anymore. I picture a large white board with nothing on it and me standing in front of the white board with sticky notes in my hand. In vain, I try to put these sticky notes (which represent my song ideas) on my large white board (which represents my predisposed obsession with being creative) but the sticky notes will not stay on and they quickly fall off.

Hmmm. Maybe it has a lot to do with my mind's tendency to be indecisive. Maybe I'm just having trouble committing to these ideas. Whatever it is, I'd like for it to go away so that I can write a pretty song. Hrmph.

I'm just gonna keep playing guitar till something happens.

C.S Lewis is, like, so smart.

Another lovely quote that speaks into my life:

"Man approaches God most nearly when he is in one sense least like God. For what can be more unlike than fullness and need, sovereignty and humility, righteousness and penitence, limitless power and a cry for help?"
-C.S Lewis, The Four Loves

Crunchy leaves!

Hanging out with kids is always a great! We get to do stuff that "grown-ups" don't really get to do and they're a nice break from all the busy-ness and stresses of "grown-up" life. For example, Aria, Levi, and Emma--my voice teacher's kids who I get to babysit every once in awhile-- wanted to jump in a pile of crunchy leaves today and since there wasn't a pile readily available, I actually convinced the kids to help me pick up leaves from all the over the Calvary chapel lawn to make our own pile! An hour later, we had enough leaves to jump and roll around in! And, well, the kids loved it. I just enjoyed watching them.

I really appreciate how easily amused children are. They find joy in things that I've started to take for granted.

Oh, family.

Many of you have never met my parents, but many of you have heard of them. They are filipino, which just means that they're really funny. Or maybe it has nothing to do with them being filipino. Maybe it's just them. For example, today when I walked into my kitchen this morning to talk to my dad, I found him making eggs and bacon, wearing a shiny, pink cap (that looked like a fancy do-rag) that my mom had apparently won at some nurse's luncheon a few weeks ago (yeah...what?). When asked why he was wearing it, he simply answered, "Oh, eets becos I just want to."

Oh. And...there was no one else in the kitchen for my father to entertain. He really...just wanted to wear it. I suppose it's no real secret where my quirkiness comes from.

Also, my mom has been under the weather lately and had given the charge of cleaning the kitchen--among other "women-ly" chores--to the men of the household. Apparently this meant unloading the dishes from the washer onto our kitchen counter and not putting the dishes away at all. When my mother was giving my do-rag wearing father a little lecture about this predicament, he told my mother that she was too uptight and a little too "ham strung."

Of course, my brothers and I started laughing. My dad looked at us and asked what was so funny. We told him that there are "hamsters" and "hamstrings," but no "ham strungs," and the proper term to use is "high strung." He started to laugh at himself: "oh haha i did not know."

My brothers are also a hoot. Lenny, 13 years old, showed me his bicep today. When asked what his secret was, he said: "I do 10 push ups every night." He also asked me when a good time for him to start dating was (my answer: when you have a job, a car and a certain degree of emotional maturity). He also asked me if girls like Hollister cologne. He also said: "when I get married, I'm buying my wife a car and putting her name on the license plate." HAHA. what??

Then there's Lenard, who is 18 years old and thinks he is, like, so cool (and he is). I walked into his room this morning to find yellow sticky notes everywhere, each with a motivational anecdote to get him "pumped up," as in lifting weights, etc. I was impressed with the abundance of yellow in his usually bland and boring room. When I asked him how he was progressing with his seemingly grueling exercise routine, he replied with a very unconvicing, "well...it's going!" Cue Lenny's, always very timely interjection: "Yeah right! He hasn't worked out in six weeks!"

I love that when I come home, my brothers won't shut up. They want to tell me everything that's happening--especially Lenny who tells me everything that is happening in Lenard's life, which Lenard doesn't necessarily appreciate-- and the funny things that my parents do on a day-to-day basis.

yeah, home is a good place. I wish I didn't have to go back to school so soon.

Un-sleep.

because smarter--and often times, dead-- people say it better:

Of all arguments against love none makes so strong an appeal to my nature as “Careful! This might lead you to suffering.”

To my nature, my temperament, yes. Not to my conscience. When I respond to that appeal I seem to myself to be a thousand miles away from Christ. If I am sure of anything I am sure that His teaching was never meant to confirm my congenital preference for safe investments and limited liabilities.…

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell. (From The Four Loves, as found in The Inspirational Writings of C.S. Lewis, 278-279.)

This helps make sense of why it is we take emotional risks. Risks are investments. Sometimes, it accrues interest. And sometimes, it just bottoms out. But even then, there is always something to be learned. Perhaps, next time one would not invest so much so soon, or take more time to think about what it is that they are investing in, etc.

Though, even the promise of increasing knowledge and spiritual growth does not take away from the very painful experience of "bottoming out." I believe that, in this backwards reality that is Christianity, the "bottoming out" is what keeps our hearts tender and more receptive to God's grace. The tenderhearted are less likely to be complacent in spirit, but seeking Truth actively, clinging tightly onto God's promises.

Realistically speaking, none of what I said makes the recovery process any simpler. God's promises are never meant to be used as Novocaine to numb away the pain. Wouldn't that be convenient? Most important lesson I've learned in these past 2-3 weeks: it's not about convenience. It's about something else. Though, I realize that it's 2:33 am and I have not the heart to tell you at this point. Maybe some sleep will do me good.

(sorry if this post just, all of a sudden, became anti-climactic)

Clearly, I am not studying.

Tomorrow I have a test on--get this-- how to do an Abdominal Assessment (7:30 in the morning, baby!). I think it's really cool. So, I just wanted to share. I really like what I've been learning. Nursing school is too legit to quit.

in other news:
What I've been learning lately is that things...affect me deeply. Complacency or contempt is not a state of being I tend to remain in. One minute, I'll be minding my own business, reading my Bible, then BAM! life is--all of a sudden--a little bit different than when I woke up that morning. It's like my life is this roller coaster ride and I am holding on for dear life. But I believe that this is how God chooses to move me and grow me. And moving and growing, I know, is far better than being stagnant and moldy. However, it's not easy. It is emotionally exhausting.

I feel like I need to write something fun and whimsical to off-set the previous paragraph.

yeah, but I got nothing.

Um, hmmm...I guess I'm lacking in the fun and whimsical department. If only my life were more like a Disney movie...then I feel that it would be something like this:



i love this movie. hee :-)




-

Psalm 34 (its a good one)

Psalm 34

Of David. When he pretended to be insane before Abimelech, who drove him away, and he left.

1 ^[a] I will extol the LORD at all times;
his praise will always be on my lips.

2 My soul will boast in the LORD;
let the afflicted hear and rejoice.

3 Glorify the LORD with me;
let us exalt his name together.

4 I sought the LORD, and he answered me;
he delivered me from all my fears.

5 Those who look to him are radiant;
their faces are never covered with shame.

6 This poor man called, and the LORD heard him;
he saved him out of all his troubles.

7 The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him,
and he delivers them.

8 Taste and see that the LORD is good;
blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.

9 Fear the LORD, you his saints,
for those who fear him lack nothing.

10 The lions may grow weak and hungry,
but those who seek the LORD lack no good thing.

11 Come, my children, listen to me;
I will teach you the fear of the LORD.

12 Whoever of you loves life
and desires to see many good days,

13 keep your tongue from evil
and your lips from speaking lies.

14 Turn from evil and do good;
seek peace and pursue it.

15 The eyes of the LORD are on the righteous
and his ears are attentive to their cry;

16 the face of the LORD is against those who do evil,
to cut off the memory of them from the earth.

17 The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them;
he delivers them from all their troubles.

18 The LORD is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

19 A righteous man may have many troubles,
but the LORD delivers him from them all;

20 he protects all his bones,
not one of them will be broken.

21 Evil will slay the wicked;
the foes of the righteous will be condemned.

22 The LORD redeems his servants;
no one will be condemned who takes refuge in him.

The Broken Heart

O LORD,

No day of my life has passed that has not proved me guilty in thy sight.
Prayers have been uttered from a prayerless heart;
Praise has been often praiseless sound;

My best services are filthy rags.

Blessed Jesus, let me find a covert in thy appeasing wounds.
Though my sins rise to heaven thy merits soar above them;
Though unrighteousness weighs me down to hell,
thy righteousness exalts me to thy throne.

All things in me call for my rejection,
All things in thee plead my acceptance.
I appeal from the throne of perfect justice to thy throne of boundless grace.

Grant me to hear thy voice assuring me:
that by thy stripes I am healed,
that thou wast bruised for my inquities,
that thou has been made sin for me
that I might be righteous in thee,
that my grievous sins, my manifold sins,
are all forgiven,
buried in the ocean of thy concealing blood.
I am guilty, but pardoned,
lost, but saved,
wandering, but found,
sinning, but cleansed.

Give me perpetual broken-heartedness,
Keep me always clinging to thy cross,
Flood me every moment with descending grace,
Open to me the springs of divine knowledge,
sparkling like crystal,
flowing clear and unsullied
through my wilderness of life.

[pg 150, The Valley of Vision]

The Big Picture

context: Sometimes, we get too caught up in the little, minute details of everyday life. I have found it beneficial for my soul to take a step back and look at the big picture: God's overall purpose for mankind and what He's going to do in this world. I was reminded of this, once again, when I was freaking out about all the things I had to do for class. But, even all the little things that seem insignificant, somehow, still fit in with The Big Picture.

The following is an entry I wrote in my non-online journal on Sept. 30th. It is meant to be an encouragement and an exhortation to my brothers and sisters in Christ. May God get all the glory, for He has given me these insights and these words:

Praises to God:

God, how I love to dwell on thoughts that exalt Your name. You are Holy and beautiful. Your taste is everlasting sweetness on the palate of my soul. Father God, Your goodness never fails to satisfy. You, who sustains all things, sustain the righteous. Oh, the depths of Your amazing grace that overwhelms the proud sinner with profound humility.

Jesus Christ. In that name, the name that the Father has declared the name above all names, is the name that calms my troubled soul. Jesus, the focal point of the universe, the source of my salvation and strength, You sacrificed your rightful place as ruler of the universe so that You could life a perfect, earthly life serving the sinful and ungrateful human race. Your life speaks volumes about what it means to please and placate the wrath of a righteous and holy God. If actions speak louder than words, then Your life on earth resonates throughout the continuum of eternity: of things that were, things present and things to come.

Christ, You are exalted and rightly worshiped, for it is You, who bore the sins of the world on Your shoulders. You were cursed for our transgressions so that the scales on our eyes would fall away and that we would see God's amazing grace. And now that I see the goodness of God and the gravity of man's depravity, I understand what is necessary to be able to stand under the banner of God's steadfast love: a passionate zeal to live holy lives, jealous for God's glory.

Holy Spirit. Thank You for Your wisdom, for Your patience, for guiding my life, for sincere conviction. I praise You for helping me see God's glory. Thank You for what You are teaching me.

An exhortation to believers:

What point is there in living for own ends, for our own subjective, justifiable means? I see my selfish intents and when I act on them, its not long before my spirit grieves within me, crying out, "What's the point? If it is not for God, then what's the point!"

Easier said than done.

But God wants it done. He understands that we're human and that we're depraved, bent on straying away from your Shepherd like lost and dumb sheep. He knows that this world is evil, filled with temptation, malice and painful experiences. He knows that "life isn't fair," and He hears us when we say, quietly to ourselves, "no one deserves this." He knows that we do, in fact, deserve it. He is just, righteous and holy. It is in His nature to allow the painful experiences in life ot happen because of sin. And sin, deserves death.

But the truth remains that God is good, full of grace and filled with steadfast love. As the psalmist says in Psalm 139:

"He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities, for as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His steadfast love toward those who fear Him; as far as the east is from the west, so far does He remove our transgressions from us. As a father shows compassion to His children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear Him."

So fear Him.
Love Him.
Sacrifice your life for the sake of the Cross.
Be diligent in studying scripture and living a holy and blameless life.
But do not, under any circumstances, think that you can do this by just "doing." This is a life. Not a checklist of things to do before you die and go to heaven. And always, always, always remember God's grace, lest we become loveless and legalistic. God knows that this life is difficult, especially for His righteous ones. But GRACE:

Grace is what gives strength to the weary, righteous ones. Grace is what gives us access to the throne room of the most High. Grace is the pillow that we can rest our heads on, so that we can sleep at night. Grace is what wakes us up in the morning. Grace fulfills us and reminds us of our ultimate purpose in life. Grace is what makes life worth living. Grace shows us what it means to love our God. Grace teaches us how to love other people. Grace is why God sent His beloved Son to die on the Cross and Grace is the awesome reminder that God loves us, the way no one else ever can.

say "no" to viruses.

I woke up this morning, like I do every morning, and realized that I have the early s/s (signs & symptoms) of [cue dramatic, foreboding tune]...a cold.

NO NO NO NO NO NO.

See, I only get sick every once in a while but when I do, since my body is retarded, it feels like the end of the world. Maybe it's not my body, but my mind because I hate getting sick SO much. Almost as much as I hate the Tower of Terror. And that's saying something quite significant.

This week:
Thunder and lightning storm this morning (or so they say)
3 tests (you're jealous, I know you are)
Filipino food night on Wednesday (Adobo is on the menu--like it always is).
4 day weekend! (no nursing classes thurs or friday)
Glen Hansard concert on Saturday (EEEEEEEEEH!!!!)

It has been awhile.

So...yeah, it's been awhile since I've written anything. I understand that this is not normal for an avid blogger such as myself. And I do miss that. However, I'm just not as compelled to blog as much as I used to. Life is busier and...I have forgotten where commas go (which is random, I know) but...it's a little frustrating because I want to put a comma down after ever word. Sorry, Carissa. Gah.

Anyway.

I noticed that I blogged quite a bit more when I had more time to just sit around and think ( I had a lot of alone time this summer, which was good). And when I say that life is "busier," I'm really just alluding to the fact that I don't have the time to sit still long enough to allow the profundity of life to whisper its sweet nothings into my ears. HAHA...yeah.

But life is going well. Really well. Suspiciously well, actually. I love the nursing major. I love what I'm learning--even if studying is something I dread. Ugh. I love my professors because they seem to genuinely care about us and about teaching us how to become Christ-centered, caring nurses. I love the people in my class because they seem to genuinely care about people and they love to encourage each other. I am still enjoying my Cassandra-mates (recap: Cassandra is the name of my apartment and my mates are: elise, jennie and kendra.) They make life fun because they are so wonderful. Um, yeah. I have a boyfriend whose name is Drew and he's really neat. We've been dating for about three weeks now and I really appreciate him.

I'm learning more and more that time management is key (to take where you want to be). Balance is important. And Jesus is still LORD of it all. The busier I get, the more I need Him. Granted, I still struggle with making time to spend time with the LORD, but I was once again reminded yesterday that everything I'm doing now, all the meticulous details, shortcomings and lessons learned--all of it points to the BIG picture: the furthering of God's kindgdom and God getting all the glory. Yeah.

And now that I have sufficiently spent time blogging, I must leave because I have a math test next week and "Math for Meds" is calling my name. I LOVE STUDYING. YES, I DOOOOOO.

toodles.

(Ps: HOW CUTE IS SHE?? Amy Micu, your children are LEGIT)

Spurgeon=Legit.

We often wonder if we love God, or more often than not, we wonder if God loves us. However, I feel that most of us who call ourselves Christians would undoubtedly say that we love God--but how could God ever love us? A woman posed this question to Charles Spurgeon and this is what he had to say:

I once knew a good woman who was the subject of many doubts, and when I got to the bottom of her doubt, it was this: she knew she loved Christ, but she was afraid he did not love her. “Oh!” I said, “that is a doubt that will never trouble me; never, by any possibility, because I am sure of this, that the heart is so corrupt, naturally, that love to God never did get there without God’s putting it there.” You may rest quite certain, that if you love God, it is a fruit, and not a root. It is the fruit of God’s love to you, and did not get there by the force of any goodness in you. You may conclude, with absolute certainty, that God loves you if you love God.

amen.

Sorry, Mister Jackson. Are you for real?

So I got this really funny email in my inbox. Well, it's NOT meant to be funny. I think it's meant to be convincing in a sense that it's trying to convince me to trust a certain Marion Jackson with my personal information so that he could send me about $ 100,000 via some sort of international transaction. I've decided to share this rather amusing email and include a break-down of what thoughts (represented by the color "red") crossed my mind as I read through it.

Ahem...and heeeere I go:

Hello Dear,

I am much delighted and privileged to contact you again, after couple of years now (Then shouldn't I remember if I knew you..). It takes faith, courage and God's fearing act (come again? God's fearing act? This is definitely failing at Christian-ese...that's for sure), to remember old friends and at the same time, to show gratification (awkward) to them, despite circumstances that made things not work out as we projected then.

first of all, how generic and vague can someone be? This is basically saying: "remember that one time, when we did that one thing together?" Yeah. First sign of fraud and suspicious circumstances is the overtly un-specific nature of the message.

I take this liberty to inform you that, the transaction we were pursing together (Oh, really), finally worked out by God's infinite mercy (Christian-nese again!) and I decided to contact you, just to let you know. You are advised to stop any further communication with your local representative(s) any officials (s) department whom may call you or email concerning the check / draft worth sum of $950,000 USD, accept Mr. OLA ABAYOMI.

...maybe I was a double agent or something many years ago. But I failed in some sort of mission and therefore had my memories erased and my mind reprogrammed to think and actually believe this life that I'm living now. Maybe...I'm not really 23. Maybe I'm really, like 40, or something. Or maybe...I'm Jason Bourne.

Also, this person is throwing godspeak everywhere. I'm under the impression that they're trying really hard to get me to trust them.

Meanwhile, I must inform you that, I am presently in the UK, for numerous business negotiations and establishment. Now, with my sincere heart, I have raised and signed an International Cashier's Check to the tune of $950,000 USD (NINE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND UNITED STATES DOLLARS) only in your name as COMPENSATION to your dedication, humanity (wow I'm getting money for being human!) and contribution at that time (now which time was this again?...oh THAT time. oh ok.).

Wow. Maybe I was a really, really good double agent. Dang it all! Why can't I remember!!

Please, contact my office secretary, his name is: Mr. OLA ABAYOMI (Secretary) on his E-mail: ola_abayomi4@hotmail.com and make sure you send the below information for verification and safe delivery of the percel.



1.Your Full Name.........................
2.Your Home & Office Address..............
3. Telephone number or Mobile
4.Your Current Location..................

Feel free to reach him via this very E-mail address: ola_abayomi4@hotmail.com and most importantly, the ICBD has only validity period of 21 banking days. So, your early response to that effect, shall be admired. You have to mind the days on route shipment.

Riiiight...and ICBD must be an institution I was familiar with when I was a double agent. Too bad all my memories have been scrambled. Or maybe they're just repressed. But maybe they're not entirely repressed. See, I've always dreamed of being an excellent fighter. Like so excellent at fighting that Jackie Chan and Tony Jaa (from the movie "Ong Bak." It is excellent. Watch it.) would be no match for my martial art skillz. Yeah, that good. But maybe it isn't a dream. Maybe it was the reality. A reality that no longer exists since my mind and my entire life has been reprogrammed by the powers that be ( be hating, that is. shoot.).

Sincerely Yours,
Mr. Marion Jackson

By the way, I googled Ola Abayomi and this is one of the many pictures that came up:

Melanies everywhere!

So today, I attempted to try to remember the names of the girls in my nursing class. Though my attempts nearly failed when I tried to call three girls "Melanie." I walked up to Heather, Jessica and Brittany--each at separate moments in time, of course-- and called them "Melanie," in utter confidence. Why? I don't know. I don't think there was even a Melanie in my class! But that didn't seem to matter to me...or my brain.

In other news:

- I also attempted to remove my nose stud. Scratch that. I actually did it. It bled. Why did I do it? I found out that I am not allowed to have it when I start clinicals next week. So I decided that I wanted to "practice" removing it. But my "practicing" makes me not want to do it again. Not that taking out and replacing the nose stud hurts in any way. It's just really awkward. You try pushing something through the side of your nose and tell me how that makes you feel. I probably just sound like a big baby. And I did do this to myself. Oh, Why do I have to like my nose stud so much? Why? why?? It would be easier to just take it out and "foh-gedda-bout" it. But I never do things the easy way. It's a pride thing.

- I realized that I will never fit into the parallel universe of "musical theatre." I discovered this as I watched Elise and Emily talk and talk (and talk and talk) about how much they love Hello, Dolly and etc. I'm not saying this is a bad thing. It isn't. But wow. It was like peering into an entirely different dimension.

- I'm taking a comparative mythology and folklore class through the Anthropology department at Biola as the ying to my yang of nursing classes, assignments, etc. While I am intrigued and excited about what I get to read for this class, the reading assignment is rather atrocious; averaging about 100 pages a week. Yoinks! So much for balance! But... I will survive! I will survive! HEY-EY!

Yes, I am going to a dating conference.

If you were to ask me a week ago if I would ever go to a dating conference, I probably would've said "Heck. No." Times have changed. And no, I have not reached an all new level of desperation. I've just decided that my pride wasn't a good enough to excuse to miss out on what could be a really fun weekend. My church, Grace EV Free, La Mirada, is holding a singles conference/dating conference during the 2nd week of September. And as funny and ridiculous as this sounds, the elders of our church are dead serious. Yeah, it was their idea. Not the college group's, and not the "career age" group. The elders see the frustration within the increasingly large number of single people in the church and realized that it would be good to set up a conference revolving around the awkward and vexing world of "Christian Dating." I think that this is incredible. The leaders of our church are happily married but are sensitive enough to hear the groanings of their un-married brothers and sisters in Christ and want to do something to help. Now, I understand that many of you may not see the novelty of this idea. And that's ok. I didn't at first. But it has grown on me. I am increasingly impressed and encouraged by this church and their commitment to encouraging the body of Christ in any way that they can. This is the context in which we are having this dating conference/seminar.

And the elders do have a point. I mean, why has dating become so awkward? or so freaking complicated? Between boy-crazy, marriage-mad, overzealous, over-committed, "take things into my own hands" females and guys who either date too casually or have become cowardly in taking emotional risks and have settled for not taking any risks at all--expecting their future wife to be handed to them on a silver platter; Christian dating has come to a bitter and ugly stalemate. Something has gone very wrong. Today, after reflecting a little about problems Christian singles encounter when dating, my small group leader reminisced about a time when dating wasn't nearly so complicated: "If I liked a girl or was intrigued, I asked her out for a soda to get to know her better. No harm done." He also mentioned something about guys needing to "man up," and if a guy tried to confess that he had commitment issues (a generic term I'm choosing to use to encompass a plethora of other issues) then he would've "beat him up for being such a pansy." HAHA. I think he was kidding.

The timing of this dating conference is kind of...spot-on. At least it is for me. Maybe it is for a lot of people. Either way, I'm amazed, once again, at God's sovereignty. I'm learning that dating, as much as it is giggled about and/or sneered at, is a valid issue (no, duh?). We are relationship-oriented people (another, DUH). We live and learn through relationships. And most of us will get married someday and it's not like you can...grow your future spouse in your backyard and pick him/her when their ripe! And God wants to be involved in this process. This process involves our emotional and spiritual growth. And what's growth without a little (or a lot of) emotional risk? I think being able to discuss all these things with godly, well-rounded, respected leaders of our church will be a beneficial and healthy thing for the entire congregation. Especially the frustrated, yet content, single people :-)

Anyway, if you want to know more about the conference, you can do so HERE.

Oh and here's the trailer that they showed us last Sunday for this conference:

Awkward hug day.

Also known as 1st day of school day! It's here, it's finally arrived! Biola kicked off another school year this morning with a very formal--very humid--commencement ceremony in the Chase Gymnasium. Our new president is really passionate about the right things. I'm excited for what God will do through Dr. Barry Corey in these coming years.

Anyway, yes. Awkward hug day. It is exactly what it sounds like. Not that every person I hug is awkward. It's only the people that are on the male side of homosapien spectrum that tend to be awkward. I think most guys know they should do the "side hug," only...most of my guy friends that I hugged today seemed to change their mind last minute...and then change it again! And what am I supposed to do? I try to follow their lead, but...it's often disastrous. I opted for just shaking hands, but that was almost more awkward. Guy sees open hand, thinks I want full frontal hug instead of a simple handshake. And I like hugs. I do. But I just don't really know what to do with my...arms, or my head. And my head...sort of just crash lands either on the guys' shoulders (ouch) or smack dab in the middle of the chest. I have to turn my head last minute to avoid breaking my nose. Then I do this...pat thing. I pat on the back, sometimes on the side. Why do I pat? I forget who it was exactly that I hugged this afternoon, but we ended up grabbing each other in the elbows (if you know me, you know how i feel about the elbows. Don't touch them). And yeah. I did pat his elbows. ELBOWS! It was painful--for me.

Aside from all the hugging and talking that I did today, I realized that I am really excited for this school year. It might trump last year and win the "Hardest Year of my Life. Ever." award. But in all seriousness, I am looking forward to what God will do. It may be hard at first, but joy always comes in the morning. Because God is good. Amen?

AND--Tomorrow is the first day of nursing school! EEEE! EEEE! weee!

Snowpeas

I discovered that I really like cooking. I think of it as an adventure; Like I'm an ambitious conquistador(a) to the unknown realms of culinary possibilities. Instead of a pointy, iron helmet, I wear the floppy chef's hat. Ok, not really. I thought of buying one, but threw that idea in the "ideas gone wrong" pile in the back of my mind that's slowly turning into a monstrous heap. I mean, Emeril doesn't even wear a hat. And he's ridiculous.

Anywho--One day, while I was shopping at Trader Joe's, I happened across some snow peas. Immediately my mind started reeling. Think of all the stir fry I could make! I didn't stop to think about the fact that I absolutely hate snowpeas. I guess it just slipped my mind. Or rather, my overzealousness for making stir fry pushed it violently away.

Tonight, I wanted to make shrimp stir-fry for dinner. So, I just...threw stuff together. Lime, garlic, butter, onions...shrimp and the snow peas, of course. I figured since I bought it, I thought I might as well use it. I don't tend to look up recipes. And that isn't because I'm "that" good. It's a pride issue, really. But I also like to surprise myself. It's better to just DO things sometimes and then learn from mistakes. I find that over-planning can be counterproductive. One can't plan for everything. Or you could look at it from the flipside: it's like I'm planning FOR mistakes. At least, that much I can expect from myself.

But my shrimp and snowpeas combo did not disappoint! The finished product:

I'm not going to deny that I feel a huge sense of accomplishment. My dad, who also loves to cook, would be so proud! And the snow peas actually wasn't so bad with the lime, butter and shrimp combo. You know, cooking is not so hard. And that isn't an attempt at false humility. Sure, it's daunting at first. Kind of overwhelming to think about. But once again, over-thinking can often create mental blocks that stops us from doing things that we just need to do. Cooking really is kind of like, going with the flow, doing what feels natural. It's knowing and being confident of what you think taste good and putting those things together. Simple as that. Remember what they say: When life hands you snowpeas, make stir-fry.

Inspiration Point

While it may not be good for man to be alone, I think it's good to set aside alone time, too. Just time to clear your mind and re-center yourself or intentionally re-align yourself to the truths that God has already revealed to you. Truths that you somehow have let go of, or lost during the course of this crazy life that we live.

Inspiration Point is really important place to me. It's about 20 minutes south from where I live, in the Corona Del Mar area. I walk down to a rock formation overlooking the beautiful Pacific Coast. I climb over the small fence and sit against it, pretending that there's nothing else, but that ocean in front of me. It's a place I go from time to time, just to sit and think. If I go early enough in the morning, there's no one around. Just me, the ocean and my thoughts. It's my "spot." I think I go there every 2 weeks or so. It's really great.

Today was a particularly productive day. I came back to "reality," reminded of who God is, who I am before God and what it is that He is most concerned with.

8:37am

I am a grown-up. I pay rent. My credit score is a above 720. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, however I want. And if I wanted to, I could go to Disneyland today--even if I went yesterday.

Sometimes profundity can become a vain search for a reason to feel validated for having to get up early in order to escape the street-sweeper's wrath. Another minor downside to living where I do now is that the Rosebeach Apartments only allows 2 cars per household to park inside the campus. Since Kendra, Jennie and I all have cars, that meant that in this spin of parking wheel of fortune, I landed on the "Park outside on the street" option. I usually don't mind but today also happens to be the third Thursday of the month: Street Sweeping Day (dun dun dunnn). Sure, I could've stuck it to the man and not moved my car. But the consequences of my rebellion would be a parking violation/ticket and I really cannot afford extra expenses at this point (that's legit grown-up thinking right there.)

Anyways, back to my attempt at being profound. Arbitrary as it seems, while I was at Disneyland yesterday with Kendra and Abby (also known as "Schmabby-Wabby"), all we could talk about, while waiting in line for the Indiana Jones ride, was that we were grown-ups (ironic?). Ok, maybe it wasn't so much them as it was me. And we did talk about other things and played a game called "Little Black Frying Pan."

I guess it just dawned on me that I am completely moved out of my house and La Mirada is now my place of residence and will be for, at least, these next three years as I finish the nursing program at Biola. Wow. I think I was in some sort of denial, thinking that Fresno is still my home. But if you want to be technical, it really isn't. It's just so weird! It's not like I'm going home for the summer for long periods of time, anymore. I live in an actual apartment, not a dorm. I don't have to move out at the end of the year. I bought my own bed and boxspring! I make actual dinners, not microwaveable ones, that I cook from scratch. I actually have to defrost my own chicken! And I actually have to stick to a budget because I am no longer dependent on my parents, who would help me out in a heartbeat if I asked them to, but me being 23 and them being in their mid-50's and late 40's and having two other children in their home, it's better for me to not rely on them for financial support.

I really, really, really am grateful for this time in my life. And in this small window of time, I have absolute single-ness, where I don't have a significant other, I'm not married, nor do I have small children to divide my time and my attention. I know--and hope--that I'm not going to be this single for the rest of my life (marriage and kids sounds really great!) but I know I should milk this time for all its worth. I really could do whatever I want, whenever I want, however I want. Not that I should, of course. The most important thing I've learned, from this first summer living on my own, my independence is futile, insufficient and is far less fulfilling than a complete and utter dependence on Jesus Christ. It seems that the more a person grows up, the more he/she needs Him.

Cassandra.

One night, while Kendra, Jennie and I were sitting in the living room, laughing and talking about how our days went, I brought up the idea of naming our new place that we've come to love so much:

Me: Hey. We should totally name this place. It'll be fun...
Jennie: What? What do you mean? Like Cassandra?
Kendra: No, Jennie. I don't think that's what Linell meant. I think she meant something more like "The Loveshack," or something along those lines.
Jennie: oh.

But the name stuck, anyway. Yesterday, while Kendra and I were up and about, running errands with Carissa, we made a lot of references about Cassandra (pronounced, "Cassondra."). Saying things like, "hey, let's take these groceries back to Cassandra," or "Let's go to Cassandra." It was much funnier at the moment.

To add to the funny-ness of the situation, Kendra decided to look up what the name "Cassandra" meant and it means "she who entangles men." That trivial fact alone was enough to solidify the name in our hearts for all eternity.

So...Cassondra it is.

mmMmm...good.

You know...life is good. Not always "easy," but it is really good. I realize that I don't reflect on the good things that happen as much as I do when things aren't so great. I praise God for the grace He continues to show me everyday and especially for a summer of restoration and peace. I also praise God for the following:

I am really, really happy and content with my apartment situation. God has really blessed us with a great place--and yes, I did finally find help with the TV and now our 27'' Sony Trinitron is sitting happily in our living room. I am even more excited about the wonderful women I get to live with: Elise Berg, Kendra Bailey and Jennifer Beckwith. I enjoy their company and never tire of their antics. They are faithful, God-fearing women and I am so blessed to have them as my apartment-mates!

I also really love being 23 years old. I love being a grown-up, while not having as much responsibility as an actual grown-up. I love being independent. I love learning how to be independent, while depending wholly on God--not that I do it perfectly, but the LORD certainly gives me plenty of opportunities to practice. I love that I am going to start the nursing program in a week and a half. I am so, so, so--EXCITED! I am fully aware that (a) I will be the busiest I have ever been in my entire life and (b) the next three years are probably going to be some of my most difficult. And I say to that, "bring. it."

I also love that I have found a church here in La Mirada that I can call my home and that through this church, I have the opportunity to be part of a small group (a.k.a "Grace" group). Yeah, those people are really starting to grown on me. They are legit, eh Carissa?

I love that I am constantly being challenged to grow in my faith, even if it is difficult and seemingly impossible at times to see where my trials are going to take me. I love that God disciplines me and always points me back to the right direction when I start to stray away from what He has laid out for me.

... and cue the Doxology.

I realized that one of the downsides to living in an apartment away from school is that there is a lack of friendly, college, non-creepazoid men that I could trust enough to help me move a ginormous television up into my living place. I mean, there are plenty enough guys that I see, meandering about. I almost actually walked up to a couple of them in the carport directly across from mine to ask them if they can help me with my TV. I was halfway to where they were standing when a thought stopped me dead in my tracks, "Ok, Linell, what are you doing here? You're going to waltz up to a couple of guys that you don't know and basically tell them where you live." Maybe I'm paranoid. Maybe I'm too guarded. Maybe I'm too much of a realist and know that in this not-so-perfect world, things aren't always what it seems. And maybe those guys in that carport were nice, polite gentlemen. But there's a good chance that maybe they're not so nice. Whatever. It's better to be safe than sorry, I suppose.

But it still doesn't change the fact that I have a TV in the backseat of my car that needs to be in my living room. This is where having big strong man-friends come in handy. Where you be?

Thingss (part 1)

(...and it's only Wednesday)

1.) I am indecisive.
2.) ...i tried to prove to myself that I can be firm and committed to an idea but sort of...aimed too high, or tried too hard to make a point-to myself-and committed myself to a series of bad ideas.
3.) I followed through with those bad ideas because "there was no way in heck" that I was going to change my mind.
4.) The more I try to talk to people and not be awkward, the more awkward I get. Reason being that I think too much ahead instead of staying within the context of the here and now.
5.) The less inhibited I am, the faster I am at Nerts.
6.) When I say "less inhibited" I mean the kind of tiredness and degree of delusion one has from sleep deprivation.
7.) Chicken and waffles are a great combination. Just ask Roscoe.
8.) Not that this is directly Michael Phelp's fault, but I am tired of hearing about him--even if he has 11 or so gold medals.
9.) Don't ask someone who just had a panic attack to describe what it felt like. It's a sure fire way to get them going again...
10.) The dining room chairs are extra squeeky and creaky at 1:22 in the morning, when the house is dark and everyone sleeping.
11.) It's not "swag," it's "schwag."
12.) I really, really like the word "ambivalent." Which is ironic.
13.) I have tendonitis.

This is always fun...

1. What did you do 10 years ago?
hmm 10 years...let's see- i was 13 and 20 lbs lighter. That was the summer that my family and I left McAllen, Texas for Fresno, California.

2. Five items on your to-do list:

finish writing the 5 songs that i started in the last two weeks (gotta write them down, lest i forget).
buy a bed and dresser.
iron on the iron-on patches on the sleeves of my nursing uniform (eeeeee!)
move in to our new townhome! (eeeeeeh! again)
go on an adventure with Wa-Wa (Amanda) and Kindra

4. What would you do if you were a billionaire?
oh man, so many ideas flying into my brain! uh fund mission trips! feed hungry people in the U.S and in third world countries! help my parents pay off their debts...buy a forest and build a cottage on the property...buy a cow. no, what? I don't even like milk! or...build a castle by the sea...in Europe! buy the entire Anthropologie company...build something useful...buy this guitar & this one (drool). yeah, i'll just stop there before i get too carried away here...


5. Places I would live:

any place that God would have me, but if I had to pick...it would be any place that looks like this:

(Apparently this is Livermore, Colorado...sooooo pretty)

6. Jobs I have had:
Nursing Assistant at three different hospitals (Clovis Community, Children's Hospital Central California and St. Jude Medical Center in Fullerton)
Barista at It's a Grind in La Habra, California

Obedience IS sacrifice.

The following issue is something that I find to be a "sticky" subject mostly because of what this would implicate about how we live out our Christianity. But it has been impressed upon my heart to talk about it, so while I'm not in a direct verbal exchange with another believer, I find the need to release the tension inside my mind by journaling about it. This is not an issue about legalism vs. our freedom in Christ, it's about what God wants from us, as we claim to "live in faith in Jesus Christ."

"The regenerate man knows more of difficulty than the unregenerate."
-A.W. Tozer

A good question to begin with is this: What concerns God the most?

If one were to say, God is most concerned about us, I would have to say that this is not true-while it is true that He is concerned about us (think of the sparrow analogy Jesus uses in Matt 6:26), it is dangerous to think that we are His utmost concern. This sort of thinking leads to a subconscious assumption that we are the apple of God's eye and that He exists only to love us and grant our hearts' desire. I say "subconsciously," because we would never say these things aloud or entertain these thoughts, as if it were something we were actually thinking. But as of late, I was convicted of the fact that this is where my "subconscious" was residing. I thought too lofty of my estate and resigned to a blatant inconsideration for the lost souls of the earth since my own was so "well taken care of." I will talk more about this later.

If one were to say, God is most concerned about His glory, then one would be right. But it is an answer that makes me uncomfortable because of what it implies. Then again, God is not concerned about my comfort, His utmost concern is for His glory and His glory alone. This I know is true when I think of people like Jonah, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Joseph, Moses and the apostle Paul, who served God while forfeiting an easy and comfortable way of life. And while some of you would nod your heads and maybe even say "Amen" in agreement with me, would you stop and consider this more seriously: if this is absolutely true of what God requires of us, then this acknowledgment means that there must be a response! It is a kind of response that requires more than just reading our Bibles, or sitting around discussing theology, or reading/listening to the latest sermon by John Piper. It requires something more radical. For by agreeing that God is most concerned about His glory, we are assenting that He is high and holy, worthy of praise and worship, worthy of our affections and more importantly, obedience. And obedience will cost us more than we think. For obedience, or lack of it, indicates what kind of god we truly worship.

Obedience. That is the word that has plagued my thoughts for the past few weeks or so. When I was little, my parents would say to me "obedience is better than sacrifice" as a reference to Abraham's intent to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, after God told Him to. And at this point in my life, I've come to this conclusion: obedience IS sacrifice. When Abraham chose to obey God, he was not only giving up his son, he was also sacrificing logical reasoning (why would a good God ask me to kill my only son that I love?), the heir to all his possessions, perhaps the affections of his wife (if had gone through with it, what would Sarah have done?) and the list goes on.

I do not write this as someone who has effortlessly found her niche in God's plan for her life. I will admit that the thought of obeying God troubles me. It troubles me because God's call for obedience in my life has never been so real and so tangible as it is right now. The sunday school answers playing in my head are not going to get me by anymore. God has revealed so much to me about the Christian's responsibility to evangelize to a lost and dying world, I know that to ignore such a thing would be severely imprudent. I can no longer play ignorant to the fact that the reason why I didn't care about the salvation of non-believers around me is because of my own secure place in Heaven. In God's sovereignty, He chose me. ME. And that's all that mattered.

Yes, it was a very hard thing to realize about myself--almost like a rude awakening, except not rude at all. The reason that I struggle with a more urgent call to evangelize is because I now have to go against the tide of how I have been living/thinking for years. More importantly, I know that this immense tension that I am feeling when I think about evangelism is caused by my selfishness clashing with the discomfort ahead of me. I know that God wants me to become more intentional about engaging people in conversations about Jesus Christ, and not just merely talking about religion, or apologetics but preaching the Gospel: The message of the Cross, the need for repentance, the truth about Hell and God's impending judgment on those who reject Christ. And God does not want me to just do this out of duty, but out of sincere compassion for the lost! I have to actually love these people first! The audacity!

Any excuse--it's always been this way, but it has only been recently that its mattered-- that I come up with in my head to not talk to someone about Jesus becomes an excuse to disobey God. And when I do follow through with my excuse and choose to NOT do what my conscience is telling me to do, I feel like everything inside me collapses. I immediately feel despair and grief for my disobedience. There have been a few times, where I just have to stop and cry out to God for peace because of the intense trembling in my soul. Then God gently comforts me and reminds me that He wants His glory and I am in blatant disobedience when I choose my fleeting sense of ease and convenience over the furthering of His kingdom.

I know that through the Spirit, I am able to obey God. The gentle urgings to obey comes from Him and I am thankful that I am more aware of what God wants for me. However, to obey God still means an almost complete make-over in how I interact with the people I come across everyday, an increasingly lucid perception of how fleeting my fleshly desires are and an ever growing conviction that my life needs to look more "radical," in comparison to how I have been living in the past. To be honest, I know that this means that my life will get harder. Right now, it does not sound too exciting. My prayer is that I will find joy amidst the discomfort of it all and trust the Spirit who dwells in me, the Spirit of life and peace.