Jesus said: "Foh-gedda 'bout it."

Matthew 6:26-27, 34

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

...Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

2 things:

1.) When I read this passage I think of Psalm 46:10; "Be still and know that I am God." Why does God tell us to be still? Because God is absolute ruler of all the universe and is sovereignly in control of all things. He alone is the Creator (Gen 1:1, Ex 4:11) and since He is the originator of everything (1 Chron 29:11-12, Ps 33:10-15, Job 42:1,2) we should rest assured that things are in their proper place. God's plans never fails because He is a perfect God. And because He is perfect, God always keeps His promises. In the passage in Matthew 6, Jesus emphasizes that if God tends the creatures of Earth, how much more so the pinnacle of all His creation? God knows every intricate detail of every human being on Earth. For those that He has called, that He loves as sons and daughters in Christ, He has promised them that "all things will work together for good." So why worry then? Easier said than done, right? I throw up my hands and say "why worry??" It is so foolish to fret when there are clear evidences in my life of God exerting His absolute and perfect control in seemingly horrible situations. Why worry...

2. ) If we worry about the future too much, without dealing with the current problems we face on a day-to-day basis, we worry ourselves into a frenzy. This is especially true of women, as we are prone to think about our lives 6 months from now, instead of thinking of...now. We tend try to be one-step ahead of God, making sure all the bases are covered. Trying to plan every single detail of our lives. Wanting to control everything. How silly. "Each day has enough trouble of its own." I have realized that worrying about what tomorrow will be like makes it hard to see how God is revealing His glory today. I just miss out sometimes and fail to see God's goodness and His blessings everyday because I become consumed with worry about the outcome. God already has the outcome figured out. I just need to focus on submitting to Christ every moment of everyday and...life will work itself out. All for the glory of GOD!

peace.

To be or Knott's Berry...

Yeah, I know that was bad. Sorry, I couldn't help it.

Today my friend Jennie and I went to Knott's for free! She's an EMT at Care Ambulance and the company wanted to show their appreciation by giving all the EMTs (and their friends and family) a day pass to Knott's Berry Farm, which also included a yummy ribs/fried chicken all-you-can-eat-buffet for dinner.

The day went pretty well, except for the fact that I am a pansy when it comes to roller coasters of any kind, or any ride that is even remotely close to a "thrill" ride. I do not exaggerate when I say that I absolutely abhor roller coasters. I hate, in the strongest sense of the word, that feeling that I get in my stomach when I'm plummeted against my will at 40-60mph towards the ground. Yeah, no thank you; I don't like feeling as if my innards are being compressed in a trash compactor, or...picked up like a wet wash cloth and wrung out to dry.

Unfortunately, riding those "thrill" rides was all that seemed worthwhile doing at Knott's Berry Farm--since it lacked the charm and pizazz of the Happiest Place on Earth. And Jennie, whom I assumed to be docile and un-adventurous, wanted to go on most of the roller coasters. This obviously posed a problem. She tried to convince me by saying that it was good pain. I dug my heels in the dirt and said "Heck No." Every time I walk out of the Tower of Terror (I've gone 3, maybe 4 times) I always wonder angrily as to why anyone enjoys that sort of thing...

I somehow managed to bend a little. Though not as much as Jennie would've liked (sorry). I went on the Silver Bullet, the Whirlwind and...well, yeah that's about it. When Jennie suggested the GhostRider, I almost passed out. I'm glad Jennie and I are such good friends and that our friendship is not contingent upon how many roller coasters I ride (or not ride) with her.

In other news: Jennie and I got to see Wall-E for free! After Knott's, I drove Jennie's car (cause she was eating pie in the passenger seat) to downtown disney and then stood in line at the AMC to buy our $10 ticket for the 7pm showing. Suddenly out of nowhere (or so it seemed), a kind-looking gentleman approached Jennie and asked if she wanted a couple of free tickets for Wall-E. Uhm...did he have to ask? Of course we did!

Interesting enough, the tickets were for a "private party" in Theatre 8. Apparently, the ALA (American Librarian Association) was having a conference in Anaheim and as part of their reward for being great and dedicated librarians, they were all given tickets to see Wall-E for free.

Random? Yes. and Amazing.

it worked!

I've been trying ever so fervently to get my new header up for this blog. I've been trying all-day! Well that's a lie. I managed to squeeze in a chic-fil-a run and worked at the coffee shop for a few hours. However, when I came back--and as pathetic as this may sound--I went straight to my laptop to conquer the reluctant header. It doesn't surprise me that I would be this resolved about something so insignificant.

Anyway, after whining and complaining outloud, and stomping my feet a few times (when I'm tired, I tend to not have a filter for proper "adult" behavior), the darn thing finally uploaded! And it's there! Up there! Do you see it? Isn't it cool? It's my baby. No, just kidding. Well, I wish I was kidding.

In other news: some of my favorite "regulars" at work are an older couple who come in every day at 7:45pm or so. They're a little OCD about what they order but I don't mind because whenever they come in they bring their 2 little pet birds: a green parakeet and a white cockatoo. The birds' names slip my mind at the moment, which is unfortunate because their names are quite interesting. Anyway, the birds just sit on their respective owners' shoulders and walk casually up and down their arm. Sometimes they walk across their shoulders to the other side of the arm. Imagine that scene, while I'm trying to get their order. It's a little distracting. My co-worker thinks this is the weirdest thing she's ever come across. I think it's the coolest thing ever (of course, I also asked the couple if they were undercover pirates. They didn't quite get what I meant, which was unfortunate).

I tend to be really drawn to things that are eccentric and contrasting from whatever is considered "socially acceptable." I say, if you have the means, determination and gusto to be different, by all means, do it! Be different with the utmost sincerity! If you're chock full of idiosyncracies that are inexplicable, then we should be friends...

ok goodnight!

I am about to hurt someone...

I worked all morning on a new blog header/banner for this site, however, blogger won't let me upload it. It's really frustrating. In fact I am so annoyed so that I have given up for now--hence the extremely plain, extremely boring layout of my blog. I wonder why I decided to clear the HTML of my previous blog settings without saving it. Obviously not a wise decision on my part.

It would be better, if I didn't care. Unfortunately, I do. GRRR.

(it's ok if you laugh at my pain. go ahead. i'm sure i'll find this funny in the morning. i'm going to go play guitar now or something)

The Valley of Vision

I have come to a sobering realization that in my lowest, most vulnerable points, God is still all the more greater, and that I see Him so much clearer when life is clouded by doubts, failures and un-certanties. Granted, that this may not always be the case. Most people who face trials in their life find that their assumptions on who God is are thrown into obscurity. I fall under that category. However, this morning I realized that if one were to take the time to fully examine their pains and troubles, one can see God's presence in all of it, even if God's intended purposes are not made immediately clear. Isn't it true that after further reflection that we do see God's goodness in all things?

The following is one of my favorite prayers from the Puritan prayer book with the same title. It has been a great comfort to me and a great reminder of what my attitude should be like as I live this life and take up my Cross, to follow the One who died for the sins of the world, so that I may have life and have it abundantly.

The Valley of Vision

LORD, HIGH and HOLY, MEEK and LOWLY,

Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision,
where I live in the depths but see thee in the heights;
hemmed in by the mountains of sin I behold thy glory.

Let me learn by paradox
that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high,
that the broken heart is the healed heart,
that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,
that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,
that to have nothing is to possess all,
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
that to give is to receive,
that the valley is the place of vision.

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from
deepest wells,
and the deeper the wells the brighter thy stars shine;

Let me find thy light in my darkness,
thy life in my death,
thy joy in my sorrow,
thy grace in my sin,
thy riches in my poverty
thy glory in my valley.

Another hole in my nose...

This morning, I woke up fully determined to get my nose pierced. So, shortly after work, a friend and I headed over to Nothing Shocking (a Christian tattoo/piercing parlor in downtown Fullerton) to get it done.


the after-picture:


...I know you can barely tell in this picture. If you look closely, it's on the left side of my nose. It seems like I should've had a nose piercing all along. I'm quite content with it. Though I doubt that my parents will be. Being old fashioned and quite close-minded when it comes to things like changing one's hair color and piercing one's nose, I know that they won't be very happy. I'm sad about that because my parents will assume that it is a latent act of rebellion, which isn't true. I'm 23 years old. I am living on my own, in a house four hours away from home. I'm a big girl.

I know that my parents will eventually get over it. They were able to adjust to the fact that my hair is reddish-brown instead of it's original black. It's only a matter of time.

...till then: Viva La Nose piercing!

[edit: if this nose piercing will cause too much grief for my parents, i'll remove it. keeping the bling on my nose is not worth a lifetime of dissension]

Harrumph.

(above: "When name badges attack!")

It's only Wednesday and I've already worked 30 hours (woo!). I don't mind it, really. But I am SO tired.

that's all. Nothing too profound, eh?

How much in control is God over everything?

I know that seems like a blasphemous statement to make, but I promise that I am coming from a more secondary context. What I mean by that is that I thought about it tonight during the last leg of my closing shift at work while I was washing the dishes. I don't necessarily always think of deep questions when I'm doing chores, but this came to mind due to a very painful experience. For lack of a better term--and because I have no idea what it's called--the spraying movable spigot-spray-thingy that hangs over the sink somehow freed itself from its safety hook and smacked me in the face. HARD. My eyes started to tear up. The spigot-spray-thingy hit the bridge of my glasses, causing it to dig deeply onto the bridge of my nose. Not really knowing what else to do and completely taken aback by the excruciating pain I was feeling in my face, I started jumping up and down. I know... you may be wondering why I would do such a thing. I don't really know. Sometimes my brain just tells me to do things and I say, "Hey, why not?"

In fact, I really didn't understand what happened in the first place! It was completely un-called for. I was simply rinsing off the soap off of one of the small saucers when it happened. I don't even remember what I was thinking about at the time before the incident took place. As I slowly recovered, a tear drop streaming down from my face, I wondered aloud: "God, did you know that was going to happen? I mean, before the beginning of the world, before all of creation?" I continued to finish rinsing off all the dishes left in the sink, but my brain kept going:

"We say that You are in control of everything. I mean, does that mean absolutely everything? Did you allow that spigot-spray-thingy to hit me? Did you make it happen? Was it You who removed it from its safety hook? We always say that You are in control. How seriously do we take that? How much do we really believe that? I feel like it's something I stick in the back of my brain, a fact that I only use when it's convenient, or when life sucks, or when I'm in pain. A fact that I use selfishly to appease my troubled mind and not a fact that I use so that I may worship You and find my absolute enjoyment in You! Ouch. That's convicting. God, Your word says that You are in absolute control over the universe. God, what would it be like, if I really, really took Your control over the universe as seriously as You take it. Am I just afraid to ask that question? Oh my gosh. I am! I am afraid to allow myself to really think about that. Afraid that if I really begin to understand it and face it, I would have to respond! Oh...man. And what kind of response...would be sufficient enough? "

Man, oh man.

my "Heathen" Sunday

I am currently working at a coffee shop and I really enjoy it. I love coffee (maybe a little too much) and the menial tasks that we do in between serving drinks and making coffee. Plus the scheduling is really relaxed. People trade and cover shifts for each other without any major complications. Normally, I do not work Sunday mornings, but when a despairing co-worker begged me to take the Sunday morning opening shift for her--since no one else was able to--i found no need to make her life any more difficult and gladly accepted it. Granted it was on a Sunday and I do try really hard not to skip church in the morning for work. However, I am secure enough in my faith and my convictions to know that missing church will not cause God to strike me with a bolt of lightning. I also know that going to church with the wrong motivation isn't any different from not going to church at all.

Disclaimer aside, I got to work at 5:30 in the morning and started my day by brewing coffee, setting up chairs and arranging pastries and bagels in the glass bakery display. At around 6:30 (yeah, old people get up early) a gentleman walked in and ordered his usual: a large coffee and a whole wheat bagel, lightly toasted, cream cheese on the side. Old people not only get up early, but they also always get the same thing. Every day.

He was a kind looking man, probably in his mid to late 60's. For privacy purposes and the protection of the innocent, we'll call him "Emil." Emil had a warm smile and glass spectacles that barely clung to the bridge of his slightly bent nose. He was also very funny and exceptionally cheery. As he was pouring his coffee, I was caught off guard when he said: "So I see that you're a heathen too!" I looked at him blankly, with my mouth agape, of all the appropriate responses I could've mattered, I managed with an: "....uh?"

Emil took my response as a "go" signal to continue: "I never go to church on Sunday. It's really out of kindness for the people that do go."

"What do you mean by that, sir?" I asked, curiously.

"Oh you know what they say: Sow your wild oats Saturday night and hope they don't grow Sunday morning! I never go to church. I figured, if I started, then the whole building would come crashing down on account of me!"

"Oh."

At this point my co-worker, chimes in: "Yeah, I don't go to church anymore either. My family is Christian and they're crazy religious and shit. I used to be really religious too, but I stopped going to church. My older brother is the craziest, I think. He, like, gives up...like half his paycheck for...what do you call it, tithe--"

"...Tithing?" I said, a little surprised to learn that my co-worker comes from a church going family.

"Yeah. It's so much money. And he freakin' gets up at 5 in the morning every day to pray. Cuh-RAZY."

Emil shook his head and raised his coffee cup: "To us Heathens!" It became apparent, that what Emil was trying to pass off as sarcasm, was actually an overflow of a bitter and hardened heart.

Before Emil could walk away, I sheepishly replied, "Actually, I never work Sunday morning and I go to church on a weekly basis." I said it in a tone that was less confident than I liked, but not because I was ashamed. I just did not know how to reconcile, in my mind, how to defend my faith without sounding like I was belittling or putting him down. But I also did not want him to think that I was heathen! Do you know what a heathen is???

• a person who does not acknowledge your god
• not acknowledging the God of Christianity

(I know that I should not care about what people think, but I do not ever want anyone to think, or have the assumption that I am not a follower of Jesus Christ.)

Emil shrugged and looked at me, "Oh...well, ok. Um, you have a good morning."

"You too." I smiled, feeling very awkward and wishing I had a more profound reply. But I didn't.

For the next 30 minutes or so, I was sort of in a daze. I was praying and talking to God, fighting the temptation to feel like I failed, or something. I felt like I just missed an opportunity to share the Gospel with someone, who obviously is very bitter against God. Granted, I was at work and customers started walking in through the door as Emil walked back to his corner seat, and I could not just abandon working to tell Emil about Jesus, how would have that have looked to my co-worker or my boss? However, I still wish I had something more significant to say!

You know, it really is a lot easier to sit at an epic conference and hear and learn about God and what He requires of us. It's relatively easy to hear and read about how we need to be disciples of Christ and take up our cross. Applying what that means to life itself, is a completely different situation altogether. I'm praying that I will learn from this and hopefully, be more equipped the next time I see Emil. I'm also praying for my c0-worker (you could pray with me if you'd like). Coming from a strong Christian family and attending a Christian school growing up, she will be held responsible for what she knows. Maybe someday, I can talk to her more in depth about what made her turn away from Christianity.

With all that said, God is good. I thank and praise Him for these opportunities to learn. And may my learning turn into fervent application of the things I know.

oh, Angst.

I want to write a song.
I want to write a song.
I want to write a song.

but nothing. nothing at all is coming. ok, that's a little bit of an exaggeration. i have a few lines:

I tried to write this song before
but didn't get very far
there are somethings that I wanted more
like sounding good on my guitar

but I was drowning in my vanity
I was in deep and over my head...

That's about it. It is a little frustrating when I want to be musical and sing something original, but can't. It's frustrating because I'm used to writing songs with ease. Maybe songs came so easily because I had a lot to say. I guess since it's summer and I'm relatively more relaxed than I have been in the past 9 months, there's really nothing that interesting to sing about.

Oh, but there is! There's always something. I refuse to succumb to the "nothingness." I love writing songs, singing and playing my guitar. Not being able to do those things is similar to the feeling of being constipated. I am creatively constipated!!

Ironically--and I just realized this--my lyrics suggest that my motives for writing a song maybe a little selfish. Uh-oh. I feel like my brain is arriving at a very accurate and conclusive answer to my current dilemma. Journaling tends to do that sometimes. Flub it all. Wouldn't it be better to live in discomposed ignorance about the apparent injustices in my life? Wouldn't it be easier if I just made myself out to be the victim of this drought in creativity (i.e "creative constipation")? No. It hasn't even been 20 minutes since I started this entry and it seems that the reason(s) as to why I can't write songs at this juncture of my life is pretty clear. Whether or not I want to divulge what those reasons are is another question. And no, I don't want to. But if you know me well enough, then you already know the answer. Hint: it has to do with putting something before Someone and Someone is not happy about that. He is seriously jealous and wants nothing else in my life to take His place.

h'okay.

Wow. Just...wow.

I borrowed "wow. Just...wow" from my friend Carissa's encyclopedic jargon. That was not meant to be a brazen strike of sarcasm. She is so smart and her vocabulary is so diverse that she, of all people, can get away with saying things like that. I admire her a lot. I like hanging out with her not just because she speaks well, and not just because she is an amazing godly woman, but methinks that my IQ is actually raised a few points just from being in her presence. (If she's reading this, this is the part where she slams her hands down on the table and shakes her head in disapproval. I can see it now. And I am laughing out loud.)

Ok, enough about Carissa.

This past weekend, I was at the Resolved Conference in Palm Springs. If you have not heard of this conference, it is most definitely one to take note of and perhaps make an effort to attend someday. The conference was the brainchild of one, Rick Holland, college pastor at Grace Community Church in Sun Valley, California (which is incidentally the church that is pastored by John MacArthur.) The conference was inspired by and dedicated to the greatest thinker/theologian/philosopher in American history, Jonathan Edwards. At the young age of 19, Edwards wrote 70 resolutions (hence the name "Resolved") to commit himself to living life fully and wholly for the glory of God, through Jesus Christ; a commitment he took very seriously until he died of complications from a smallpox inoculation on March 22, 1758. As Rick Holland sees it, if Jonathan Edwards can take his faith so seriously at 19, then so can this generation of young adults. Thus, the conference is three-days of solid, intense and God-glorifying, God-centered expository sermons delivered by some of the most passionate and intellectual bible scholars that I have ever heard (John MacArthur, C.J Mahaney, Steve Lawson, John Piper, etc). Strategically placed in between each sermons are songs of worship focused on the greatness of God and the glory of the Cross. It was truly awesome, and I say that within the most appropriate context of the word.

If I could sum up my experience this weekend in one word, the word I would pick is: Heaven. And not just because this particular conference was about Heaven and Hell, but because it was, to me, a glimpse of what Heaven will be like: The multitude of thousands upon thousands of Christians, standing around the throne of the most High God and giving Him glory and praise for eternity! All we did was talk about God! It was amazing!

Oh, there is so much more I can say about what I experienced, but this blog post would take days to read! What I do want to do is to hone in on what my response should be to something like this. Christianity is not lived out successfully unless it is lived out with a severity like that of a servant who, in loving obligation and commitment, is willing to die for his master. That severity is often lost in our culture because living life here is relatively easy. In other words, Christians fall into the trap Satan has set to take our time here on earth, for granted. "Take it easy," he whispers fiendishly into our ears. And we do. I admit I fall into that trap more often than I would like. I fail to understand that I am living on borrowed time. That if I took the time to fully understand what is waiting for me in Heaven, that this earth is truly not my home, then my life would look drastically different and in the most extreme sense of the matter.

Since thinking about what the rest of my life will look like is overwhelming, I am focusing my concerns on what my summer should look like. To narrow it down even further, what should my week look like. And to be even more particular, what should my days look like, in light of living my life for eternity? Aside from disciplining myself to study and read the Bible everyday, I have no idea. Or maybe I do, but the thought of what it will look like scares me. I am very much guilty of being a lover of comfort. Not only am I selfish but I am also self-indulgent to the highest degree. I do not like doing things that inconvenience me in any way. This is obviously, something that God will purge from me, since self-indulgence is the greatest hindrance from loving and serving Him, whole-heartedly.

I will end this rather long post with a few of Jonathan Edward's resolutions:

7. Resolved, never to do anything, which I should be afraid to do, if it were the last hour of my life.

23. Resolved, frequently to take some deliberate action, which seems most unlikely to be done, for the glory of God, and trace it back to the original intention, designs and ends of it; and if I find it not to be for God' s glory, to repute it

61. Resolved, that I will not give way to that listlessness which I find unbends and relaxes my mind from being fully and fixedly set on religion, whatever excuse I may have for it-that what my listlessness inclines me to do, is best to be done, etc. May 21, and July 13, 1723.

I don't listen to worship music on a regular basis.

the following thoughts have been brewing in my mind for some time now. i've never really shared them because i'm afraid of being labeled a heretic or a "bad" Christian. then I realized something: everyone makes mistakes, that's part of being human. mistakes are part of the process of growing. i can potentially say something completely wrong, and while i should try to be careful with what i do say, i realized that i can't always have the right answers, nor am i going to pretend that i do. i think Christians put so much pressure on each other to never say the wrong thing and i think that really cheapens the process of learning; how will we know if what we believe is wrong, if we don't put it out there?

this leads to my thoughts about worship music. while i appreciate worship music within the context of a worship service, i do not go out of my way to listen to worship music outside of church settings. i actually would prefer to listen to anything else (except for country. i never want to listen to country). i think this is attributed to a few things (a) the simplistic, repetitive nature of the music in worship songs sort of irritate me (b) it may be a rebellious response to the idea that Christians should listen to just Christian songs (c) i appreciate the creativity of the secular music i listen to, more (oh so much more).

I think that letter "B" is the driving reason behind my wariness of worship music. Worship music is a different class of music because it is music that is, supposedly, written for God. However, due to the Christian music label and the Christian music business and the implications that there needs to be a separation between Christian and secular music--and that it is more "Christian" to choose one side than the other--I sometimes wonder, is worship music really for God anymore? Or has it somehow become something that is more about ourselves, than anything else? If the strategy behind it all is to "separate us from the world," or to "appear as light to a dark world," then the strategy has failed because the secular world does not respect us, but ridicules us and hates us. Granted, that is what Jesus said would happen to those who followed Him, but I don't think this is what He meant. Christians are not coming off as humble disciples of Jesus Christ, but rather, proud, condemning people who think they're better than everyone else.

I'm not saying every Christian is like this nor am I saying that there is nothing beneficial and God-honoring about singing and listening to worship songs. But I do think we need to be careful in how we view and react to worship music. I don't think it should ever have the cult-like following that it has today, meaning people should not "worship" the music itself. I think an important reminder to remember is that worship is not merely genre of music! I believe that worship existed before music ever did. For worship is the posture that humans should have before God...always.

Commentary on daydreaming...

"what if's" are a major component of everyday life. they're often what tips the balance between focusing on the here and now and the future that is to come.

"what if's" often, short-circuit my brain and at the most inopportune times, too. like when i'm driving. there have been more and more instances now, where i have caught myself completely drifting off, staring into nothing with my mouth-wide open, while waiting at a red light. or even when i'm just driving down the street. it's scary how little I have been paying attention to the road. my guardian angel has his work cut out for him (wow. that was cheesy.)

my "what if" mode is comparable to a person in a hypnotic state. when i start to think of things that could've been or plausible possibilities for certain circumstances, i'm pretty sure my heart rate actually becomes slower and my breathing, deeper. I'm generally more relaxed. which is ironic: one would assume that this kind of thing would stress me out, instead, i find myself in a very calm, meditative state.

frankly, i don't know why i'm choosing to write a commentary about my behavorial glitches. i suppose it's something to do when there's not much else to do. and when there's not much else to do, there's always daydreaming--an act that involves thinking of things one could possibly do if one were not limited by the boundaries of real life, or thinking of things that one could do even within the boundaries of real life, but these things are not always immediate realities, many of these things exist within the realms of the future; thus they are not "realities" but possibilities.

daydreaming, or thinking of "what if's" is therefore, then a reaction to a dramatic reduction of activities in my daily living. i wish i could say that i hate it, but in reality, i am loving every minute of it thus far. i have not been this relaxed for quite some time now and i'm going to savor every second of it. i know that when the Fall comes, i will be ridiculously busy.

I think the biggest oversight in parenting nowadays is the lack of boundaries children are given. I know I'm not a parent, yet. But I've had plenty of experience in working with and babysitting children. I love kids. Maybe a little too much. They're cute and easily amused. Life is fairly simple for them. They are astounded by most things that we, adults, tend to take forgranted. But as precious as these little darlings are, they are not so cute when they are disobedient and have no respect for authority. It's disheartening, sad and very annoying when I babysit kids who could care less that I'm the adult. It's especially irritating when they throw tantrums and hit you and say things like "you're the most meanest person EVERRR!!!" when you tell them that they can't play soccer in the house, or ask them to share their popcorn with their younger siblings. I mean...come on, really? My least favorite response is: "You're not the boss of me." I pray for the children who continue to carry that attitude into their adult life.

Allowing kids to do whatever they want and let them have the run of the house, is detrimental to what was originally intended for the adult-child relationship. Some parents actually think tthat it's better for their children to grow up in a home with "the least amount of rules as possible." We are born as naturally selfish beings and without rules and boundaries to shape us in our most formative years, and without these rules to curb, tame or at least give us some indicators of how to properly act as civil individuals, then we become selfish, ill-adjusted, rude adults. Most of us can think of people like that. And yeah, we don't like them. No one likes them. And it's a vicious cycle: most of the time these adults become horrible parents (if some decide to become parents at all, which is better I suppose, than the alternative) and raise children, who become mean, disrespectful adults.

Granted, I've probably made a lot of blanket overgeneralizations. Inspite of that, I think I've said some truth. I am not a perfect person. And I am also an inherently rebellious person. Though, I rebellious by nature, I know to not act on those impulses because of how my parents raised me. I had a lot of rules and boundaries (maybe a little too many rules) growing up as a child. Most times I didn't like and I didn't understand all their rules. But looking back on it now, I am grateful. I believe I am a well-adjusted individual and I have a healthy respect for those who are in authority over me because of my that aspect of my childhood. How I was raised has also predisposed me to have a healthy respect for the Father. I don't see God as an overbearing god who makes our lives miserable with all his rules and commandments. I see those commandments and rules as necessary good. Following God's commands glorifies Him and shows Him that we love Him, but those rules also keep us out of trouble.

I think the stigma of "rules" is something that our culture has created. That is unfortunate. It's one of those lies that this culture has chosen over what is true and good. Rules and boundaries are not a bad thing. If anything, when followed, they keep us from getting into trouble...

Bad Idea.

(disclaimer: every once in awhile, I drink coffee with a couple shots of espresso. I write this disclaimer now, a few hours later...in a more sober state. The following journal entry was written while I was on a "caffeine high." Although I opted for deleting this particular journal entry, due to it's arbitrary and imbecillic nature, I thought it would be an interesting experiment to let it remain a part of my blogging experience, as a reminder of as to why I should really lay off the caffeine...)

I suppose I could join the rest of the country and gripe about the rising gas prices. Yes, I am annoyed that it takes about $45 to fill up my gas-efficient car nowadays (adds up to over $100 in gas per month), as opposed to how I only used to spend $20 for gas every week and a half or so. However, as annoyed as I am, I, thankfully, was not as livid as the man I met at Border's today. Well, ok...I wasn't the only one who met him. The entire store met him. I did not quite see his face, but from the minimal view I could acquire from standing on my tippy toes, it seemed that he was..."five cans short of a six pack", or better yet, "mad as a monkey on a trike" (source: http://www.wisegeek.com/what-are-some-euphemisms-for-being-crazy.htm).

Between the expletives, the man made some valid points. Can't quite remember them all right now, since I was distracted by a radioactive orange journal to my right; nevertheless, I thought to myself: "Gas prices wouldn't be such a bother if we all became hermits..."

yeah. ok. while it sounded good at the time... that's actually the worst idea I've ever had:

I haven't quite worked out the details on how to live like hermits without adding injury to our already crippled economy. And don't get me wrong. I may sound like I know what I'm talking about, but I know "diddly-squat" about economics. So whose to say that my hermit idea is even feasible? Plus, if customers stopped leaving their house to get coffee, I would be out of a job. No coffee drinkers, no coffee shop, no coffee shop...no job. Come to think of it, if I became a hermit, I wouldn't have a job anyway, since I would be fired for ditching work. Without work, I would probably get kicked out of my house because of my inability to pay rent. As a result, I would have to live on the streets. And in order to survive the streets, I would probably have to join a gang. And if I joined a gang, I would probably lose all my friends, not just to gang-related violence, but because they would be extremely disappointed that I would join a gang. Losing important friendships would then cause me to become a bitter and heartless individual, who becomes numb to wholesome goodness, love, truth and justice. Eventually, I would become the most infamous and feared crime-lord in the whole world and become so ridiculously rich, that I would buy all those evil oil companies and raise gas prices even higher, not for any particular reason but for my own personal gain.

Needless to say, hermitage can lead to even higher gas prices. Obviously a bad idea.