I was sitting in my car, eating some chips and reflecting on my day. I do that often--minus the eating chips part. I like to sit and debrief with myself when I get home. I don't rush out of the car. I just like to sit.
I was thinking about the phone call I just received regarding a promising opportunity to travel. This opportunity had come up before in October, but I let it fall through the cracks because it didn't seem like the timing was right, or there were just things surrounding the issue that didn't seem right. So I didn't pursue it. I was surprised this company had called me again 4 months later. I am excited. I don't know what this means or if this is a new chapter in my life beginning to unfold. There are still some things that need to fall into place, like approval from my C.E.O and my direct supervisor to allow me to travel for a week at a time every other month or so. I am praying, though for God's perfect will, for peace and direction for me and those involved in this decision. And holy crap, duh, I would so want to do this! I am young and I am thirsty for adventure. I want to experience all that this life has to offer. I want to use all the gifts that God has given me. I don't want to live a life that is mediocre, that settles for what's comfortable and familiar. God, send me out! I am ready.
I am blessed to have a direct supervisor who genuinely looks out for me. She's like an older sister to me. A bold, wise and spirit-filled Christian woman. She has told me on different occasions that she wants to keep me close, to support me in whatever way that she can. I am quite in disbelief about this, actually. That someone whom I have only known for a few months has taken on the role as my strongest advocate in the place where I work. A few weeks ago, while I was sitting in her office, she told me that she was excited for me and my future and I quote: "Your future is so bright. Girl, I have to put sunglasses on when I am around you. Amen. And I will hold this excitement for you, until you can take it from me." I was beside myself. I told God that I wanted to be like her when I "grow up."
With all that to say, I am glad she is on my side. I know that it's a very tangible representation of God's love and encouragement for me. And I am not sure what I did, but like grace, her favor or God's favor is not something I can work for or deserve. As much as I like to write and express myself, I can't really find the words to say how deeply moved and thankful I am of this. Therefore, I know whatever decision she makes about the next step of my career is for my good and it is comforting to know that she will seek prayer about it.
Life. You never know what you're gonna get.
Showing posts with label the day to day.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the day to day.. Show all posts
14.2.12
12.4.11
It is good.
Today, I sat outside a cafe in downtown Fullerton. I sat on a paisley cushion atop a white wicker chair, taking in the eclectic outdoor patio decoration at Cafe Veronese. I lazily sipped on coffee, in between bites of a decadent chocolate cake. I let my eyes feast on the vines that grew along the fence, and I giggled softly because I loved the sight of yellow flowers speckled throughout. I listened to the fountain and let the sound of the water coax me into a more peaceful mood. The sun gleamed softly, its warm light reflected by the white tiled table top, touched my face like a gentle kiss. A gentle and cool breeze caressed my hair and the edges of my mustard yellow skirt. The sky was clear and the clouds were like cotton balls, arranged messily in groups of threes and fours.
As I sat there, I marveled at my inner peace. I felt genuinely thankful for life and that I could enjoy the little things. That things like yellow flowers, chocolate cake and 74 degree weather still makes a substantial impact on my soul.
The last 8 weeks or so have been, well--for lack of a better term--a doozy. If you had told me that by week 10, I would be so relaxed and so peaceful, that I would be stuffing my face full of cake, I probably wouldn't have believed you. I might even have told you that you were effing crazy.
I guess it just goes to show that I am still one of little faith. Well, it's a growing faith. It's still quite miniscule. But, I do see it growing stronger. Getting bigger. More bold. Less afraid. And this peace that comes with it is most definitely a gift of grace, from God, who I am convinced today loves and cares about His people. That He loves and cares about me.
It's not like I did anything extra special either. Neither has much of my external situations changed--other than the fact that I'm mostly done with school projects/presentations. There are still quite a few aspects in my life that are less than ideal.
I think I realized this last Friday, that if Jesus can calm a raging storm and churning waves, if Jesus can still the mighty ocean, then His power is sufficient to bring about peace in whatever life situation I find myself in. It's so good to see His power and His work within me. Especially because I have not held back from showing Him/telling Him about what I truly think and feel about the crap that has happened. I feel like I really, truly wrestled with all that has been going on. Being honest with myself and with other people. It certainly has not been easy.
As I sat there and ate my cake, I thanked Him for listening. I thanked Him for caring about my humanity and giving space for my emotions. I thanked Him for helping me overcome my fears and for helping me see a side of surrender that I have never seen before. I looked at where I've been and where I am now, in this place of substantial peace--I see that I have gained a better sense of what it means to trust God. It's really amazing. It's almost ineffable.
So yeah. Today is a good day. I want to enjoy it.
Lastly, I want to end with a verse that seems to make more sense to me now than it ever has before:
"For this I toil, struggling with all His energy that He powerfully works within me." [Colossians 1:29]
Toodles.
As I sat there, I marveled at my inner peace. I felt genuinely thankful for life and that I could enjoy the little things. That things like yellow flowers, chocolate cake and 74 degree weather still makes a substantial impact on my soul.
The last 8 weeks or so have been, well--for lack of a better term--a doozy. If you had told me that by week 10, I would be so relaxed and so peaceful, that I would be stuffing my face full of cake, I probably wouldn't have believed you. I might even have told you that you were effing crazy.
I guess it just goes to show that I am still one of little faith. Well, it's a growing faith. It's still quite miniscule. But, I do see it growing stronger. Getting bigger. More bold. Less afraid. And this peace that comes with it is most definitely a gift of grace, from God, who I am convinced today loves and cares about His people. That He loves and cares about me.
It's not like I did anything extra special either. Neither has much of my external situations changed--other than the fact that I'm mostly done with school projects/presentations. There are still quite a few aspects in my life that are less than ideal.
I think I realized this last Friday, that if Jesus can calm a raging storm and churning waves, if Jesus can still the mighty ocean, then His power is sufficient to bring about peace in whatever life situation I find myself in. It's so good to see His power and His work within me. Especially because I have not held back from showing Him/telling Him about what I truly think and feel about the crap that has happened. I feel like I really, truly wrestled with all that has been going on. Being honest with myself and with other people. It certainly has not been easy.
As I sat there and ate my cake, I thanked Him for listening. I thanked Him for caring about my humanity and giving space for my emotions. I thanked Him for helping me overcome my fears and for helping me see a side of surrender that I have never seen before. I looked at where I've been and where I am now, in this place of substantial peace--I see that I have gained a better sense of what it means to trust God. It's really amazing. It's almost ineffable.
So yeah. Today is a good day. I want to enjoy it.
Lastly, I want to end with a verse that seems to make more sense to me now than it ever has before:
"For this I toil, struggling with all His energy that He powerfully works within me." [Colossians 1:29]
Toodles.
11.3.11
My encouragement today.
"The LORD will fight for you, and you only have to be silent." [Exodus 14:14]
Sometimes, life is just overwhelming. There's only so much I can do. I see the extent of my weakness yet again. And I must and choose to believe that God cares and that He is working in ways that I can't even begin to imagine.
I truly believe that God is using that verse and this song to remind me that He cares about me in ways that I don't fully realize yet.
Sometimes, life is just overwhelming. There's only so much I can do. I see the extent of my weakness yet again. And I must and choose to believe that God cares and that He is working in ways that I can't even begin to imagine.
I truly believe that God is using that verse and this song to remind me that He cares about me in ways that I don't fully realize yet.
I have a Father
He calls me His own
He'll never leave me
No matter where I go
I have a Maker
He formed my heart
Before even time began
my life was in His hands
He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
He hears me when I call
20.1.11
Reset
refresh.
restart.
renewed.
Today feels different. And I don't really know what that means because I've yet to develop an appropriate vocabulary for new experiences.
But I think this is a good thing. At least it feels like I'm one step closer to wherever I'm supposed to be.
restart.
renewed.
Today feels different. And I don't really know what that means because I've yet to develop an appropriate vocabulary for new experiences.
But I think this is a good thing. At least it feels like I'm one step closer to wherever I'm supposed to be.
8.1.11
The One Where Kendra locks herself outside.
There are some days that are just more eventful/funny than others:
My roommate and good friend, Kendra feel that our lives, separately and together would make for good tv sitcom material. Our tv sitcom would be called: Our Neighbor, Luigi-- In honor of our eccentric and endearing neighbor, who is 45 years old, lives with an asian man (no relations) and his mother, who frequently leaves the house to walk her poodle (dyed pink, of course), with her hair in rollers, and a cigarette hanging loosely on the corner of her mouth.
Anyway, this morning, Kendra had a friend come over for breakfast. And being a nice friend that she is, she decided to walk her friend out to her car, unbeknownst to her at the time that she, out of force of habit, had locked the door as she closed it. Kendra realized her dilemma when she attempted to let herself in. She wasn't too worried, though, because she knew that her trusty roommate, Linell, would hear the doorbell/ knocking and let her back in shortly.
And in true sitcom fashion, where timing is everything, this is about the time that I decide to take a shower. While I was in the bathroom, I heard the distant clinging of bells, but since I didn't realize that we had a doorbell--how I missed this, I am not sure--I thought that I was just hearing things. I had been taking a lot of aspirin lately for pain, so I thought I developed a case of tinnitus and made a mental note to quit my pill-poppin.'
So, while I was showering, Kendra decided to walk around our apartment to my bedroom window and started knocking on it, thinking that I was still on my bed sleeping. Of course, I was in the bathroom, so I didn't hear anything. Kendra wondered to herself how deep a sleeper I was and also asked the age old question: "Why, God, Why?" With nothing else to do, but to wait and hope that I would answer the door at some point, Kendra decided to pull some weeds in our backyard. She also watered the plants on the front porch and emptied water that had pooled in one of the trashcans that we keep outside.
Still unaware of what was happening outside, I was taking my sweet time in the shower room. When I finished, I sat in the middle of my room and pondered about what to do with my day and why I was hearing bells. I must admit that I was mildly concerned. At this point, my good friend Julianne called me. We were on the phone for some time, when I heard loud knocking at my window. I froze for a moment, until I heard a familiar voice say, "Linell? Linell? Can you...let me in?" Then all of a sudden, it was like a lightbulb turned on in my head: "OH. I wasn't hearing bells...there was someone ringing our doorbell. And it was Kendra. Wait, we have a doorbell?"
So, Kendra was finally let in and she filled me in on her eventful and productive morning. We laughed about the incident for sometime. Kendra saying that her life is like a sitcom and I agreed that funny things do happen to her. The best part is how she can turn a frustrating situation into something hilarious.
Then we decided to get make the most of the day by getting coffee and beignets at the Jazz Kitchen in Downtown Disney. It was also in honor of Team Gordo, a term originating from the fact that Kendra and her cousins love to eat junk food and lots of it when they get together. I've recently become an honorary member when I joined the family for Thanksgiving dinner this past November.
After we got back, we watched a few episodes of TLC's "Say Yes To the Dress." Kendra watched, while I mostly judged. I think the woman who needed three wedding dresses was kinda ridiculous.
Haha, what a day. And it's not over yet. Two new friends from Newport, Josh and Dave, have decided to pick me up and take me to Newport to hang out. Haven't done anything quite so spontaneous in quite some time. But it definitely makes life more interesting.
Toodles.
My roommate and good friend, Kendra feel that our lives, separately and together would make for good tv sitcom material. Our tv sitcom would be called: Our Neighbor, Luigi-- In honor of our eccentric and endearing neighbor, who is 45 years old, lives with an asian man (no relations) and his mother, who frequently leaves the house to walk her poodle (dyed pink, of course), with her hair in rollers, and a cigarette hanging loosely on the corner of her mouth.
Anyway, this morning, Kendra had a friend come over for breakfast. And being a nice friend that she is, she decided to walk her friend out to her car, unbeknownst to her at the time that she, out of force of habit, had locked the door as she closed it. Kendra realized her dilemma when she attempted to let herself in. She wasn't too worried, though, because she knew that her trusty roommate, Linell, would hear the doorbell/ knocking and let her back in shortly.
And in true sitcom fashion, where timing is everything, this is about the time that I decide to take a shower. While I was in the bathroom, I heard the distant clinging of bells, but since I didn't realize that we had a doorbell--how I missed this, I am not sure--I thought that I was just hearing things. I had been taking a lot of aspirin lately for pain, so I thought I developed a case of tinnitus and made a mental note to quit my pill-poppin.'
So, while I was showering, Kendra decided to walk around our apartment to my bedroom window and started knocking on it, thinking that I was still on my bed sleeping. Of course, I was in the bathroom, so I didn't hear anything. Kendra wondered to herself how deep a sleeper I was and also asked the age old question: "Why, God, Why?" With nothing else to do, but to wait and hope that I would answer the door at some point, Kendra decided to pull some weeds in our backyard. She also watered the plants on the front porch and emptied water that had pooled in one of the trashcans that we keep outside.
Still unaware of what was happening outside, I was taking my sweet time in the shower room. When I finished, I sat in the middle of my room and pondered about what to do with my day and why I was hearing bells. I must admit that I was mildly concerned. At this point, my good friend Julianne called me. We were on the phone for some time, when I heard loud knocking at my window. I froze for a moment, until I heard a familiar voice say, "Linell? Linell? Can you...let me in?" Then all of a sudden, it was like a lightbulb turned on in my head: "OH. I wasn't hearing bells...there was someone ringing our doorbell. And it was Kendra. Wait, we have a doorbell?"
So, Kendra was finally let in and she filled me in on her eventful and productive morning. We laughed about the incident for sometime. Kendra saying that her life is like a sitcom and I agreed that funny things do happen to her. The best part is how she can turn a frustrating situation into something hilarious.
Then we decided to get make the most of the day by getting coffee and beignets at the Jazz Kitchen in Downtown Disney. It was also in honor of Team Gordo, a term originating from the fact that Kendra and her cousins love to eat junk food and lots of it when they get together. I've recently become an honorary member when I joined the family for Thanksgiving dinner this past November.
After we got back, we watched a few episodes of TLC's "Say Yes To the Dress." Kendra watched, while I mostly judged. I think the woman who needed three wedding dresses was kinda ridiculous.
Haha, what a day. And it's not over yet. Two new friends from Newport, Josh and Dave, have decided to pick me up and take me to Newport to hang out. Haven't done anything quite so spontaneous in quite some time. But it definitely makes life more interesting.
Toodles.
22.3.10
The Caffeinated Optimist
Yesterday, I denied myself of my usual cup of coffee. As the day progressed, my mind grew foggier, my mood destabilized and by the end of the night, I had a raging headache and I hated my life (the weekend long power outage on my block and the fact that my car was stuck in the garage for two days because of lack of the power outage--and lack of upper body strength and male friends to help me lift the garage door manually--may have added to my grumpyness).
Today, I had my cup of coffee and life couldn't be better. It's funny but sad that my hope seems to be contingent on how much caffeine is in my system. Yikes. I've tried to wean myself off it, but it's nearly impossible while I'm in nursing school. But I made the most of my sudden burst of happyness and made plans for a productive summer: making cards and selling them on etsy.com, taking a sewing class, saving up for a Disneyland annual pass and possibly taking on a hip-hop class on top of working 10 or more hours a week. Yesterday, I also felt an impending sense of doom regarding a huge test that I have tomorrow based on the most confusing material I have yet to encounter (i.e Mechanical Ventilation). Today, I'm thinking that maybe a C on the test wouldn't be so bad. Not that I'm aiming for a C, but at least I know it won't be the end of the world.
What else is good? The weather: 73 beautiful degrees and the glorious sunshine. And food: Chik-Fil-A.
Glorious.
7.3.10
Awkward... happens.
My life:
1. Recently, I received a random text message from a "mystery man" from my hometown of Fresno. He claims that he had found my number in his phone and he was wondering if he knew me. Without revealing too much of my own identity, and knowing how to ask the right questions, I discovered that he was a 25-year old Latino, who works at the same hospital that my mom does (he's an ER nurse), he grew up in Monterrey, California and he goes to People's Church (which is about a couple blocks or so down from a church I used to go to). Using my mother as a source, I had her investigate this phenomenon and I found out that Mystery Man actually checked out to be who he said he was. I am a naturally curious person and therefore continued to reply to Mystery Man's text for another day or so. However, it wasn't very long until it became very apparent that Mystery Man was insecure and required constant affirmation from a stranger he didn't even know. Mystery Man also hinted several times that he felt that our "meeting" was "god-ordained" and that maybe we were "meant to be."
yeah. That was the end of that.
2. My little condo was due to be cleaned today by yours truly and I like listen to hip hop music while I clean. Since it was a nice day, we only had our metal screen door closed to allow some "fresh" air in. "Soldier" by Destiny's Child came on as I was in the middle of mopping our wooden floors in the dining room and I started to "get my groove on." It was about half way through the song, when amidst my dancing I heard a male voice say "Knock-knock?" I twirled around, semi-shocked and thoroughly horrified, and saw my roommates' attractive gradschool friend standing right outside the screen door. Apparently, he and some of the other gradschool friends where coming over for a study session (i.e. comparing notes about some Rorshack test). I did know that he was coming, but I had lost track of time. An awkward smirk spread across his face as I walked to the door to let him in. I said a quick "hi" and hid in our kitchen for five minutes, finished my mopping and kind of, ran to my room. I didn't really come out for another 2o minutes. I mean, I know things could've been worse. I could've been naked. I'm hoping that he's forgotten. Then again, it was the kind of dancing that I normally wouldn't do in front of anyone--especially boys.
oops.
1. Recently, I received a random text message from a "mystery man" from my hometown of Fresno. He claims that he had found my number in his phone and he was wondering if he knew me. Without revealing too much of my own identity, and knowing how to ask the right questions, I discovered that he was a 25-year old Latino, who works at the same hospital that my mom does (he's an ER nurse), he grew up in Monterrey, California and he goes to People's Church (which is about a couple blocks or so down from a church I used to go to). Using my mother as a source, I had her investigate this phenomenon and I found out that Mystery Man actually checked out to be who he said he was. I am a naturally curious person and therefore continued to reply to Mystery Man's text for another day or so. However, it wasn't very long until it became very apparent that Mystery Man was insecure and required constant affirmation from a stranger he didn't even know. Mystery Man also hinted several times that he felt that our "meeting" was "god-ordained" and that maybe we were "meant to be."
yeah. That was the end of that.
2. My little condo was due to be cleaned today by yours truly and I like listen to hip hop music while I clean. Since it was a nice day, we only had our metal screen door closed to allow some "fresh" air in. "Soldier" by Destiny's Child came on as I was in the middle of mopping our wooden floors in the dining room and I started to "get my groove on." It was about half way through the song, when amidst my dancing I heard a male voice say "Knock-knock?" I twirled around, semi-shocked and thoroughly horrified, and saw my roommates' attractive gradschool friend standing right outside the screen door. Apparently, he and some of the other gradschool friends where coming over for a study session (i.e. comparing notes about some Rorshack test). I did know that he was coming, but I had lost track of time. An awkward smirk spread across his face as I walked to the door to let him in. I said a quick "hi" and hid in our kitchen for five minutes, finished my mopping and kind of, ran to my room. I didn't really come out for another 2o minutes. I mean, I know things could've been worse. I could've been naked. I'm hoping that he's forgotten. Then again, it was the kind of dancing that I normally wouldn't do in front of anyone--especially boys.
oops.
9.2.10
Wait, shouldn't I know this already?
I found the following passage very encouraging/convicting. It's an excerpt from Martin-Lloyd Jones's book, Spiritual Depression: it's causes and cure. D. Martin-Lloyd Jones is the man. Or a man. But he's a wise one for a sure.
"Do not think in terms of bargains and rights in the kingdom of God. That is absolutely fatal. There is nothing so wrong as the spirit which argues because I do this, or because I have done that, I have a right to expecting something because I have done that, I have a right to expect something else in return. This is met with frequently. I know very good evangelical people, who seem to be thinking like that. 'Now,' they say, 'if we pray for certain things, we are bound to have them, for instance if we pray all night for revival we must have revival.' I have sometimes described this as the 'penny in the slot' idea of Christianity. You put in your coin and you draw out a bar of chocolate or whatever else you want...
...but that surely is to deny the whole principle which our LORD is teaching. I do not care what it is, whether prayer or anything else, in no respect must I ever argue that because I do something I am entitled to get something--never. And of course the principle can be seen to be true in practice...
...Let us get rid of this bargaining spirit, that if I do this then that will happen... The Holy Spirit is LORD, and He is a sovereign LORD. He sends these things in His own time and His own way. In other words we must realize that we have no right to do anything at all...even rewards are of grace. He need not give them, and if you think you can determine and predict how they are to come you will be quite wrong. Everything is of grace in the Christian life from the very beginning to the very end. To think in terms of bargains and to murmur at results, implies a distrust of Him, and we need to watch our own spirits lest we harbour the thought that He is not dealing with us justly and fairly.
If you start in that way you end by robbing yourself. I like the way in which our LORD teaches that. If you strike a bargain with God, well then it is almost certain that you will just get your bargain and no more...O Christian friends, do not make bargains with God. If you do, you will get only your bargain; but if you leave it to His grace, you will probably get more than you ever thought of. Of the Pharisees our LORD says: 'Verily they have seen their reward.' They do these things in order to be seen of men; they are seen of men, that is what they wanted and that is all they will get, they will get no more..."
15.10.09
broken.
I broke my phone this past weekend. Correction: my phone broke itself last Saturday afternoon. As I opened it to check a text message, the top half of my flip phone (i.e. the screen) completely disconnected from the bottom half. I was very much annoyed. Maybe even angry. I might have thrown my hands up in the air in a very "why-God-do-these-things-happen-to-me" kind of way. I might've also thrown a silent, yet efficient, tantrum. God knows that I would not be able to afford to buy a new phone at this point. God also knows that this phone held some sentimental value to me. And it was purple. A deep shade of purple. It was pretty. And now it was broken! I loved it since the first time I had laid eyes on it, a year ago, when I bought it purely because I couldn't bear to look at the scratches on my old phone any longer. It was the cheapest that AT&T had at the time, costing a mere $10 (after sending in the proof of purchase for a $50 rebate). And it was all mine. I did not need anything fancy--mostly because funds would not allow it. I was perfectly content with my purple phone. It was all I wanted. Didn't want anything more. Surely AT&T will replace it.
I went over to a local AT&T on Sunday to find out if I still had some sort of insurance or warranty on the phone. It was a huge sigh of relief to find out that I did. The guy at the store called the insurance company that works with AT&T and sure enough, the guy on the other end of the line told me that I qualified for another phone, free of charge! However, I was informed that AT&T no longer carried the phone that I currently had, so they were going to send me something "comparable." I find out that this "comparable" phone, is MUCH fancier than my little old flip phone and it's costs about $140 more. It's one of those phones that has a touch screen and it slides open to reveal a QWERTY keyboard to make me a more efficient "texter." And it's electric blue!
Maybe I overthink things, but couldn't help thinking, as I walked away from AT&T that day with a smile on my face, that this whole incident--though mundane and seemingly insignificant--was a way for the LORD to teach me an important lesson, or at least reveal to me what He is teaching me now: the value and importance of brokenness. It is strangely reassuring that what I think is best for myself...really isn't. I can convince myself time and time again that whatever it is that I am fixated on at the time, is what's "right." And when God, who has my best interest at heart, finally intervenes, it's never an easy process to trust Him enough to let go. The pain can be heartwrenching enough to be confusing. Oh, but when God shows me what He does want for me, it's like...a billion times better than what I thought I wanted! That's when I realize that the pain, the brokenness...was worth it and necessary to be reminded once again of God's goodness and how much He does care for His children.
With all that to say, I am genuinely excited about how God is going to work in my life. In brokenness, there is abundant hope in who the LORD is. He has amazing things planned for me. For all of us, who hope in Him.
I went over to a local AT&T on Sunday to find out if I still had some sort of insurance or warranty on the phone. It was a huge sigh of relief to find out that I did. The guy at the store called the insurance company that works with AT&T and sure enough, the guy on the other end of the line told me that I qualified for another phone, free of charge! However, I was informed that AT&T no longer carried the phone that I currently had, so they were going to send me something "comparable." I find out that this "comparable" phone, is MUCH fancier than my little old flip phone and it's costs about $140 more. It's one of those phones that has a touch screen and it slides open to reveal a QWERTY keyboard to make me a more efficient "texter." And it's electric blue!
Maybe I overthink things, but couldn't help thinking, as I walked away from AT&T that day with a smile on my face, that this whole incident--though mundane and seemingly insignificant--was a way for the LORD to teach me an important lesson, or at least reveal to me what He is teaching me now: the value and importance of brokenness. It is strangely reassuring that what I think is best for myself...really isn't. I can convince myself time and time again that whatever it is that I am fixated on at the time, is what's "right." And when God, who has my best interest at heart, finally intervenes, it's never an easy process to trust Him enough to let go. The pain can be heartwrenching enough to be confusing. Oh, but when God shows me what He does want for me, it's like...a billion times better than what I thought I wanted! That's when I realize that the pain, the brokenness...was worth it and necessary to be reminded once again of God's goodness and how much He does care for His children.
With all that to say, I am genuinely excited about how God is going to work in my life. In brokenness, there is abundant hope in who the LORD is. He has amazing things planned for me. For all of us, who hope in Him.
4.5.09
In "da" club, but not of it...
Writing a blogpost about going to a club on Saturday night probably takes away from the "coolness" factor of the experience and exposing me for the "square" I really am--oh well.
If you knew me two years ago, or even a year ago and had mentioned the idea of going to a club on any night of the week, you would've been met by a response that would entail me giving you a lecture on why that's sinful.
Needless to say, I've mellowed out quite a bit.
Anyway, I went to Santa Barbara (woot) this past weekend and my friends and I decided to go to a club on Saturday night. It wasn't just on a whim-- it was part of a series of events known as the "Daniel Craig birthday celebration." And no, it wasn't like a James Bond convention/conference. No, nothing quite so creepy or fanatical. I'm talking about another Dan Craig, who happens to be turning 26 on Wednesday.
Before we went to the club, my friends and I stopped by a bar where they featured swing dancing music on Thurs-Saturday nights. Elise, my beloved ex-roommate, is the best swing dancer I know. I was excited to watch her dance because it really is THAT amazing. But what was even more exciting was that I actually got to use my I.D to gain access to something under-aged people couldn't. I know, I'm easily amused. I wonder what was going through the bouncer's head when I eagerly handed him my I.D, with a huge goofy smile plastered on my face. Come to think of it, I may have also told the guy who checked my I.D at Tonic about how excited I was to be there.
What I observed in the club and at the bar was pretty similar. For some reason, I had always pictured clubs and bars (and I'm sure that this assumption is not completely off-based) to be the breeding ground of all things blatantly sinful. Granted, it wasn't the picture of heaven either. When it comes down to it, it was a place for people to meet people. I mean, God did make us to live in community with one another and Christian or not, people will seek people out. It was very interesting to watch the friendliness and camaraderie at these places that will rival any Christian churches out there. People are generally very friendly, in a non-creepy way. They strike up conversations with strangers and offer to buy people drinks. A guy that was with us, offered to buy us a couple round of drinks--I politely declined, of course, due to my disdain for beer because it smells and tastes like crap--but still, I thought, how often do Christian guys offer to buy a "round" of sodas when we're at In-and-Out?
I was surprised that none of those things that I thought would happen to me, happened when I went to these places. I mean, fire and brimstone didn't start falling from the sky, nor was I struck by lightning--which I thought might happen as soon as I set foot inside a bar. And, I actually had fun. Sober-because-Christ-lives-in-me-and-I-want-to-be-a-witness-for-him, kind of fun. I enjoyed talking to people. I loved dancing with my friends. I also enjoyed the part where even though I was in their world, I wasn't part of it. I was merely visiting. And because I was just visiting, clubbing and bar-hopping, isn't something I'm going to make a habit out of. But, at least, now I'm not so afraid of it.
After this weekend, and after spending time with people who aren't part of the church-scene that I have been so accustomed to, I remembered how Jesus Christ came to us, because we could not and would not go to Him. I think that it is a great analogy to what Christians must do to reach people who don't know/don't care about Jesus. And this, among other things, is a sensitive subject within the Christian realm. But I would like to offer up my point of view, fully aware that there is potential for me to be wrong, but I will gladly take the risk in order to think outside the box and maybe to challenge others along the way: I know that as Christians, we are called to be holy and set apart. But we are also called to be great commissioners and be witnesses to the people that are in the world and trapped in their sin, like we, who now know Christ, once were. How can we be witnesses if we stay away from people that need to see Jesus? Is it possible to be holy and set apart, while being in these dark and forsaken places, for the sake of Christ and to the glory of God?
I think it is. We applaud missionaries for their courage in traversing over large bodies of water to live amongst cannibals, head-hunters, and witch doctors to preach the Gospel and live as examples of Jesus Christ. In my opinion, we don't have to go quite so far to minister to those living in the heart of darkness--though it will still require the same amount of courage, same amount of compassion and same amount of obedience, if not more.
If you knew me two years ago, or even a year ago and had mentioned the idea of going to a club on any night of the week, you would've been met by a response that would entail me giving you a lecture on why that's sinful.
Needless to say, I've mellowed out quite a bit.
Anyway, I went to Santa Barbara (woot) this past weekend and my friends and I decided to go to a club on Saturday night. It wasn't just on a whim-- it was part of a series of events known as the "Daniel Craig birthday celebration." And no, it wasn't like a James Bond convention/conference. No, nothing quite so creepy or fanatical. I'm talking about another Dan Craig, who happens to be turning 26 on Wednesday.
Before we went to the club, my friends and I stopped by a bar where they featured swing dancing music on Thurs-Saturday nights. Elise, my beloved ex-roommate, is the best swing dancer I know. I was excited to watch her dance because it really is THAT amazing. But what was even more exciting was that I actually got to use my I.D to gain access to something under-aged people couldn't. I know, I'm easily amused. I wonder what was going through the bouncer's head when I eagerly handed him my I.D, with a huge goofy smile plastered on my face. Come to think of it, I may have also told the guy who checked my I.D at Tonic about how excited I was to be there.
What I observed in the club and at the bar was pretty similar. For some reason, I had always pictured clubs and bars (and I'm sure that this assumption is not completely off-based) to be the breeding ground of all things blatantly sinful. Granted, it wasn't the picture of heaven either. When it comes down to it, it was a place for people to meet people. I mean, God did make us to live in community with one another and Christian or not, people will seek people out. It was very interesting to watch the friendliness and camaraderie at these places that will rival any Christian churches out there. People are generally very friendly, in a non-creepy way. They strike up conversations with strangers and offer to buy people drinks. A guy that was with us, offered to buy us a couple round of drinks--I politely declined, of course, due to my disdain for beer because it smells and tastes like crap--but still, I thought, how often do Christian guys offer to buy a "round" of sodas when we're at In-and-Out?
I was surprised that none of those things that I thought would happen to me, happened when I went to these places. I mean, fire and brimstone didn't start falling from the sky, nor was I struck by lightning--which I thought might happen as soon as I set foot inside a bar. And, I actually had fun. Sober-because-Christ-lives-in-me-and-I-want-to-be-a-witness-for-him, kind of fun. I enjoyed talking to people. I loved dancing with my friends. I also enjoyed the part where even though I was in their world, I wasn't part of it. I was merely visiting. And because I was just visiting, clubbing and bar-hopping, isn't something I'm going to make a habit out of. But, at least, now I'm not so afraid of it.
After this weekend, and after spending time with people who aren't part of the church-scene that I have been so accustomed to, I remembered how Jesus Christ came to us, because we could not and would not go to Him. I think that it is a great analogy to what Christians must do to reach people who don't know/don't care about Jesus. And this, among other things, is a sensitive subject within the Christian realm. But I would like to offer up my point of view, fully aware that there is potential for me to be wrong, but I will gladly take the risk in order to think outside the box and maybe to challenge others along the way: I know that as Christians, we are called to be holy and set apart. But we are also called to be great commissioners and be witnesses to the people that are in the world and trapped in their sin, like we, who now know Christ, once were. How can we be witnesses if we stay away from people that need to see Jesus? Is it possible to be holy and set apart, while being in these dark and forsaken places, for the sake of Christ and to the glory of God?
I think it is. We applaud missionaries for their courage in traversing over large bodies of water to live amongst cannibals, head-hunters, and witch doctors to preach the Gospel and live as examples of Jesus Christ. In my opinion, we don't have to go quite so far to minister to those living in the heart of darkness--though it will still require the same amount of courage, same amount of compassion and same amount of obedience, if not more.
29.4.09
Weird things Happen: a poem
Today, I stood in line patiently,
waiting for my turn to pay,
when all of a sudden, a boy walked up to me
then quickly walked away.
I do not know him at all,
as a friend would know a friend,
I do not even know his name,
or if I would ever see him again.
But I was wrong, you see
the boy came back a second time,
it seemed as though, he wanted to speak--
maybe share a limerick or a rhyme.
Imagine my amusement (or confusion)
when he did not say a thing,
he quickly walked away again,
just as I heard the cash register "ding!"
So, off I went to the library,
to study for Apologetics,
all the while, I could not decide
if what transpired was funny or pathetic.
As I was heading to the basement,
inside the stairwell, I got a call,
so I stopped to talk to Bethany,
as I leaned against the wall.
Suddenly, the stairwell doors flew open,
and to my big surprise--
it was he! the boy, who did not speak!
followed by some ...other guys.
Ironically, Bethany had to go
and I quietly hung up the phone,
standing/feeling very awkward
--feeling strangely alone
I waited for the boys to walk by
i followed, three steps behind,
wondering if I was imagining this,
or if I was losing my mind.
Then at the foot of the stairs,
the boy stopped and opened the door,
Immediately, I felt pressured;
as if the steps were miles away from the floor
But the boy stood patiently by the door,
he held it open as he waited for me,
I could not imagine a more awkward moment,
This one is probably in the top three.
When I finally reached the bottom,
I thanked him for his noble act of chivalry,
then I quickly walked away from his sight,
wondering, "why do these things happen to me?"
End.
waiting for my turn to pay,
when all of a sudden, a boy walked up to me
then quickly walked away.
I do not know him at all,
as a friend would know a friend,
I do not even know his name,
or if I would ever see him again.
But I was wrong, you see
the boy came back a second time,
it seemed as though, he wanted to speak--
maybe share a limerick or a rhyme.
Imagine my amusement (or confusion)
when he did not say a thing,
he quickly walked away again,
just as I heard the cash register "ding!"
So, off I went to the library,
to study for Apologetics,
all the while, I could not decide
if what transpired was funny or pathetic.
As I was heading to the basement,
inside the stairwell, I got a call,
so I stopped to talk to Bethany,
as I leaned against the wall.
Suddenly, the stairwell doors flew open,
and to my big surprise--
it was he! the boy, who did not speak!
followed by some ...other guys.
Ironically, Bethany had to go
and I quietly hung up the phone,
standing/feeling very awkward
--feeling strangely alone
I waited for the boys to walk by
i followed, three steps behind,
wondering if I was imagining this,
or if I was losing my mind.
Then at the foot of the stairs,
the boy stopped and opened the door,
Immediately, I felt pressured;
as if the steps were miles away from the floor
But the boy stood patiently by the door,
he held it open as he waited for me,
I could not imagine a more awkward moment,
This one is probably in the top three.
When I finally reached the bottom,
I thanked him for his noble act of chivalry,
then I quickly walked away from his sight,
wondering, "why do these things happen to me?"
End.
1.2.09
A Beautiful Stranger
The bell chimed politely, announcing the arrival of yet, another customer.
I turned to smile, expecting to see the friendly faces of The Golden Girls, an endearing name I've given to a group of three women, 60 years or older, who regularly meet Sunday evenings--a tradition they started 20 some years ago to get away from their husbands during Monday Night Football. Now they just meet Sunday night, since the men don't watch football as much anymore.
However, instead of seeing Izzie, Marcy and Dale, I was surprised to see a man I've never seen before.
He looked like he had not showered in weeks. His matty and knotted hair was gray. His wrinkled forehead and checkered grin showed conclusive evidence of a man who has weathered, endured and seen a much harsher side of life. As he walked towards the register, the general atmosphere of the small coffee shop immediately became tense and uncomfortable. The man was softly muttering unintelligible things to himself, occassionaly looking to his left, at something, only he could see. I noticed many of the other customers ignored him, or pretended like he wasn't there. I was starting to become anxious. I was not quite sure what to expect from a man, who was showing signs of schizophrenia.
The man walked up the counter and put $2 down without saying a word to me.
"What can I get for you tonight, sir?"
He was still muttering to himself, muttering things that made no sense. He looked to his left, still muttering softly but started gesturing, waving his hand up and down, as if he was trying to "shoo" someone away. He looked at me listlessy, and then as if trying to get a crick out of his neck, he tilted his head slightly and clenched his jaw. He took a deep breath in and looked at me again. It was then that I saw his kind, gray eyes fill with tears. He gave me a look of helplessness and frustration as he tried to communicate with me.
"I just-- I just-- I JUST---want..."
Before he could finish his sentence, he began to mutter uncontrollably once again. He put his hands to his head and began to shake it violently. He stopped after a few seconds and sighed. His eyes looked at me apologetically, and then looked away. He began to mutter again, sounding more angry by the moment.
Something happened to my heart, right there and then. A rush of compassion warmed my entire body, I felt blood rush to my head and as if a lamp was lit inside my mind, my eyes were opened to see this broken man was a human being made in God's image--a beautiful stranger. I wasn't afraid of him anymore.
"Sir," I asked gently, suddenly finding myself trying to fight back tears, "do you want... a cup of coffee?" I wanted to help him. I wanted to do everything I possibly could to help him. It was, however, too lofty a goal to attain at that point in time. Because I was at work, I could only help him with his coffee.
The man, still looking away, nodded. His mutterings died down to a steady lull. Though every now and again, he would bite his lip, as if he was trying to suppress something that he did not have control over. He slowly and gingerly pushed the $2 towards me.
Usually, coffee is self serve at the coffee place I work at--meaning, in a very obvious way, that the customers get their coffee themselves from the airpots placed on the counter.
I handed the man his change and a coffee cup. He nodded a "thank you," and walked over to the coffee pots. He stood there for awhile, looking carefully at each option, obviously confused about what to choose. Fortunately, there were no other customers waiting to be helped, so I walked over and tried to help him: "The House Blend is the more popular choice by most customers here and it's milder than the Tanzanian Peaberry...though the peaberry has kind of a weird, fruity taste...and I wonder sometimes why something fruity would have much more caffeine than a--" He looked at me and snorted a laugh, indicating that I was sharing information that he did not really care about. I smiled, "I mean, the vanilla nut is good." The man nodded furiously in agreement and began filling his cup--still muttering to himself.
I helped him pour creamer in his cup, since he did not seem to know how, or maybe could not get his brain to tell him how. Either way, I was glad to help him. Before he left, he bowed his head politely to me--still muttering his unintelligble words--and walked out the door. The bell chimed again, this time announcing his departure. And I watched him walked across the parking lot until I could not see him anymore, wondering if I would ever see him again-- The strange man who reminded me of something very important: People are worth our time and care because they are made in God's image, and there is something profoundly beautiful in that.
I turned to smile, expecting to see the friendly faces of The Golden Girls, an endearing name I've given to a group of three women, 60 years or older, who regularly meet Sunday evenings--a tradition they started 20 some years ago to get away from their husbands during Monday Night Football. Now they just meet Sunday night, since the men don't watch football as much anymore.
However, instead of seeing Izzie, Marcy and Dale, I was surprised to see a man I've never seen before.
He looked like he had not showered in weeks. His matty and knotted hair was gray. His wrinkled forehead and checkered grin showed conclusive evidence of a man who has weathered, endured and seen a much harsher side of life. As he walked towards the register, the general atmosphere of the small coffee shop immediately became tense and uncomfortable. The man was softly muttering unintelligible things to himself, occassionaly looking to his left, at something, only he could see. I noticed many of the other customers ignored him, or pretended like he wasn't there. I was starting to become anxious. I was not quite sure what to expect from a man, who was showing signs of schizophrenia.
The man walked up the counter and put $2 down without saying a word to me.
"What can I get for you tonight, sir?"
He was still muttering to himself, muttering things that made no sense. He looked to his left, still muttering softly but started gesturing, waving his hand up and down, as if he was trying to "shoo" someone away. He looked at me listlessy, and then as if trying to get a crick out of his neck, he tilted his head slightly and clenched his jaw. He took a deep breath in and looked at me again. It was then that I saw his kind, gray eyes fill with tears. He gave me a look of helplessness and frustration as he tried to communicate with me.
"I just-- I just-- I JUST---want..."
Before he could finish his sentence, he began to mutter uncontrollably once again. He put his hands to his head and began to shake it violently. He stopped after a few seconds and sighed. His eyes looked at me apologetically, and then looked away. He began to mutter again, sounding more angry by the moment.
Something happened to my heart, right there and then. A rush of compassion warmed my entire body, I felt blood rush to my head and as if a lamp was lit inside my mind, my eyes were opened to see this broken man was a human being made in God's image--a beautiful stranger. I wasn't afraid of him anymore.
"Sir," I asked gently, suddenly finding myself trying to fight back tears, "do you want... a cup of coffee?" I wanted to help him. I wanted to do everything I possibly could to help him. It was, however, too lofty a goal to attain at that point in time. Because I was at work, I could only help him with his coffee.
The man, still looking away, nodded. His mutterings died down to a steady lull. Though every now and again, he would bite his lip, as if he was trying to suppress something that he did not have control over. He slowly and gingerly pushed the $2 towards me.
Usually, coffee is self serve at the coffee place I work at--meaning, in a very obvious way, that the customers get their coffee themselves from the airpots placed on the counter.
I handed the man his change and a coffee cup. He nodded a "thank you," and walked over to the coffee pots. He stood there for awhile, looking carefully at each option, obviously confused about what to choose. Fortunately, there were no other customers waiting to be helped, so I walked over and tried to help him: "The House Blend is the more popular choice by most customers here and it's milder than the Tanzanian Peaberry...though the peaberry has kind of a weird, fruity taste...and I wonder sometimes why something fruity would have much more caffeine than a--" He looked at me and snorted a laugh, indicating that I was sharing information that he did not really care about. I smiled, "I mean, the vanilla nut is good." The man nodded furiously in agreement and began filling his cup--still muttering to himself.
I helped him pour creamer in his cup, since he did not seem to know how, or maybe could not get his brain to tell him how. Either way, I was glad to help him. Before he left, he bowed his head politely to me--still muttering his unintelligble words--and walked out the door. The bell chimed again, this time announcing his departure. And I watched him walked across the parking lot until I could not see him anymore, wondering if I would ever see him again-- The strange man who reminded me of something very important: People are worth our time and care because they are made in God's image, and there is something profoundly beautiful in that.
29.1.09
R.I.P Sparkles July 21, 2008-Jan 29, 2009
I laugh at myself because I am blogging about this. Yeah, whatever. I'm going to do it, anyway.
I took out my nose ring today (hence "sparkles"). After much consideration, and even though I have endearing affection for the minute sparkle that I have had on the left side of my nose for the past six months, it must go. Because even though I do love my sparkle, I do not enjoy removing it every week for nursing clinicals. Unfortunately, I've chosen a profession that considers piercings to be strictly un-professional. Sigh. So, it' s not like I can keep my nose ring when I graduate from nursing school. I still laugh at the comment, Amy Micu once made when I told her my plans of removing my beloved nose ring: "Just change your major then! Maybe you can be an artist!" Of course, she was just kidding. Wouldn't it be just a kick in the pants, though, if I let my nose ring dictate the trajectory of my life?
I do have this irrational feeling that my coolness factor is quickly being deflated--like when you let the air out of a tire--except my coolness is escaping via the gaping hole that was my nosering. Yeah, I know. That's silly. I don't need a nose ring to be cool. With that being said, I know there are quite a few fans of my sparkle being gone. The fan-club includes: My parents, Tamara Stankevich, my Ukranian brothers and of course, Steven Puente.
But maybe this isn't goodbye. I do have hopeful consideration that maybe I'll be a missionary nurse in India someday. If so, maybe I'll get to have my sparkle back.
But for now, rest in peace. It was fun while it lasted. And I was very fond of you, Sparkles. And really, this hurts me more than it hurts you.
I took out my nose ring today (hence "sparkles"). After much consideration, and even though I have endearing affection for the minute sparkle that I have had on the left side of my nose for the past six months, it must go. Because even though I do love my sparkle, I do not enjoy removing it every week for nursing clinicals. Unfortunately, I've chosen a profession that considers piercings to be strictly un-professional. Sigh. So, it' s not like I can keep my nose ring when I graduate from nursing school. I still laugh at the comment, Amy Micu once made when I told her my plans of removing my beloved nose ring: "Just change your major then! Maybe you can be an artist!" Of course, she was just kidding. Wouldn't it be just a kick in the pants, though, if I let my nose ring dictate the trajectory of my life?
I do have this irrational feeling that my coolness factor is quickly being deflated--like when you let the air out of a tire--except my coolness is escaping via the gaping hole that was my nosering. Yeah, I know. That's silly. I don't need a nose ring to be cool. With that being said, I know there are quite a few fans of my sparkle being gone. The fan-club includes: My parents, Tamara Stankevich, my Ukranian brothers and of course, Steven Puente.
But maybe this isn't goodbye. I do have hopeful consideration that maybe I'll be a missionary nurse in India someday. If so, maybe I'll get to have my sparkle back.
But for now, rest in peace. It was fun while it lasted. And I was very fond of you, Sparkles. And really, this hurts me more than it hurts you.
6.12.08
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:
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.
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.
1.12.08
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:
And last but not least:
this video says it all.
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.
16.7.08
Breakfast at Mimi's
I went to Mimi's Cafe to have breakfast with a friend that I have not seen or talked to in a while. However, it seemed that our fateful meeting was postponed, yet again, due to the fact that she had "double-booked" herself and had made prior arrangements the exact time we were supposed to meet. Hey, no big deal. I already has this feeling that it wasn't going to happen anyway. I'm not being sarcastic, just psychic. Ba dum ksssh.
No worries. I did not leave Mimi's, chagrined. I decided to stay and eat breakfast solo. Dun dun dunnn.
As I was eating by myself in one of the back corner booths, contentedly feasting on my half a cantaloupe and pain (pa-eehn?) perdue--petite french toast stuffed with cream cheese and orange marmalade, I realized how much I enjoyed my unaccompanied meal. There's just something about Mimi's that I find enjoyable and endearing. And as I sat there, eating my perdue, I felt very grown-up.
I also read from 1 Peter 1 this morning, which made my morning even better. That sounds really cheesy, but I'm not trying to be. Reading verses 3-9 was like the culmunation of all the things that I have been processing in my mind for the past six months. I've read 1 Peter many times before and today it finally sunk in:
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith--more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire--may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls."
Words really cannot express right now just how much God spoke to me through that passage. Well, I could try to "express myself" but this blog post would be days long.
God is amazing and so, so SO faithful. Everything always points to Him, despite of my unwillingness to try and remember Him. He makes it happen. I cannot escape Him. I may forget Him, but He is always mindful of me (see Psalm 8:4).
No worries. I did not leave Mimi's, chagrined. I decided to stay and eat breakfast solo. Dun dun dunnn.
As I was eating by myself in one of the back corner booths, contentedly feasting on my half a cantaloupe and pain (pa-eehn?) perdue--petite french toast stuffed with cream cheese and orange marmalade, I realized how much I enjoyed my unaccompanied meal. There's just something about Mimi's that I find enjoyable and endearing. And as I sat there, eating my perdue, I felt very grown-up.
I also read from 1 Peter 1 this morning, which made my morning even better. That sounds really cheesy, but I'm not trying to be. Reading verses 3-9 was like the culmunation of all the things that I have been processing in my mind for the past six months. I've read 1 Peter many times before and today it finally sunk in:
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith--more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire--may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls."
Words really cannot express right now just how much God spoke to me through that passage. Well, I could try to "express myself" but this blog post would be days long.
God is amazing and so, so SO faithful. Everything always points to Him, despite of my unwillingness to try and remember Him. He makes it happen. I cannot escape Him. I may forget Him, but He is always mindful of me (see Psalm 8:4).
14.7.08
The Morality Question (for lack of a better title)
Disclaimer: If it seems like a lot of my blog revolves around what happens at work, well--a lot of my life, as of recently, revolves around my coffee-shop job. It's not that I'm obsessed with coffee or anything. When I speak in terms of "life" I'm mostly referring to the people that I work with and interact with on a day-to-day basis. Conversations that I have with my co-workers may not be as meaningful as others, but even the less than meaningful confabulations have lead to meaningful thoughts--well, at least on my end:
As of the beginning of July, I seemed to have transitioned from "new-girl" to "girl that works closing shift." A lot of the initial awkwardness of being in a new work environment has worn off. Making drinks and doing the chores have become systematic, therefore making it possible to actually talk to people. The person I'm thinking of in particular is *Bryan. He started working at IAG (It's A Grind) about the same time I did. He's a professing Christian. And he's also gay. Woa, red flag, right? Bryan grew up in a Christian home and was raised in church. He is the youngest of five children. He said that he had a normal childhood growing up--except for the fact that he's been attracted to boys ever since he was three. He remembers coming home from pre-school and talking about the cute boys in his class. His parents thought it was just a phase that he was going through, so they didn't really think it was a big deal. In high school, Bryan said he began to take his Christianity more seriously. But he was still attracted to guys. He said that he tried to pray it away, but those same-sex attractions still remained. Because those attractions remained, he's accepted it--seemingly without trepidation. He assures me that he loves going to church, and has his morals in check and is not promiscuous. However, he also entertains boys who pursue him. He's been in a few relationships and flings with guys and is currently "hanging" out with a guy who has a crush on him. I asked him how he reconciles what the Bible says about homosexuality being a sin and not of God's original design and his dating, or social life. And to this, he responded: "I don't know. I'm just going with the flow. This is the way things are. And I know what the Bible says, but I know that I'm not destined to be single for the rest of my life. I have every intention of marrying the person that I fall in love with." I told Bryan that I would be praying for him. It was all I could say at that moment in time.
Bryan is a nice, fun guy. He's outgoing and the life of the party. However, when I work with him, it feels like my soul is being ripped apart in 20 different directions. That sounds intense, but I don't know how else to describe it. I love this guy--in a brotherly, platonic, un-romantic sort of way, but I also don't agree with his lifestyle, and I'm not talking about him being gay, I'm talking about how he says that he is a Christian but does not seem to take this claim seriously. His eager pursuit of romantic relationships with men seem to also indicate this. I humbly recognize my own inadequacies to make a judgment on anyone due to the massive plank in my own eye, but I also know that if one claims to be a Christian, then they should, at the very least, be distinguishable from those who do not have Jesus Christ in their lives; not because Christians are better than anyone, but because Jesus said so.
It concerns me--and maybe it shouldn't-- that Bryan seems to blend in, almost too well, with my non-Christian co-workers. At first, I wondered if I was just jealous. My co-workers have taken to him like a young child to a puppy dog. They absolutely love him and love to hang out with him, work out with him, eat with him, etc. They probably sense my prudish ways like some sort of "fun-sucker" vibe that I give off. This is most likely the reason why I'm not invited to anything. The general apprehensiveness of my co-workers around me is sometimes amusing, but mostly frustrating. I think I'm just as fun and good-humored as Bryan (tooting my own horn here), but it's like I'm missing that key ingredient that would make me fun to actually hang out with.
Yesterday, as I was working with Bryan and watched him make after work plans with a few people, I wondered to myself what Christian morality really is. I wondered this because of the conversation I had with Bryan about morality. This thought has been prominent in my mind as of late because I am becoming increasingly aware of how different I am from the the people I work with, even though one could say that some us share the same moral attitudes. What is true Christian morality? What makes it different from orthodox moral practices that is widely accepted by the public? What is it that makes Christians different in such a way that Jesus would even say, in John 15:18-19: "If the world hates you, you know that it has hated Me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, because of this the world hates you." There has to be more to morality than not being promiscuous, not getting drunk, not cussing, being respectful to elders, feeding the homeless and going to church, right?
Incidentally, today I read an article that John Piper wrote on Desiring God blog, titled "All Things Are From God, Through God, and To God. The Glory Is All His." It was very encouraging and enlightening, especially this part:
Last thing. Important keywords: "overflow of worshipping..." Without the right reverence for God, or an accurate view of who Jesus Christ really is, whatever moral views we hold seem meaningless. The reverence of God IS the keeper of morality. Good is possible because of a healthy fear of God, a fear that exists due to acknowledgment of His sovereignty over all things. Therefore, moral views without reverence of God is not really morality. They're just views.
As of the beginning of July, I seemed to have transitioned from "new-girl" to "girl that works closing shift." A lot of the initial awkwardness of being in a new work environment has worn off. Making drinks and doing the chores have become systematic, therefore making it possible to actually talk to people. The person I'm thinking of in particular is *Bryan. He started working at IAG (It's A Grind) about the same time I did. He's a professing Christian. And he's also gay. Woa, red flag, right? Bryan grew up in a Christian home and was raised in church. He is the youngest of five children. He said that he had a normal childhood growing up--except for the fact that he's been attracted to boys ever since he was three. He remembers coming home from pre-school and talking about the cute boys in his class. His parents thought it was just a phase that he was going through, so they didn't really think it was a big deal. In high school, Bryan said he began to take his Christianity more seriously. But he was still attracted to guys. He said that he tried to pray it away, but those same-sex attractions still remained. Because those attractions remained, he's accepted it--seemingly without trepidation. He assures me that he loves going to church, and has his morals in check and is not promiscuous. However, he also entertains boys who pursue him. He's been in a few relationships and flings with guys and is currently "hanging" out with a guy who has a crush on him. I asked him how he reconciles what the Bible says about homosexuality being a sin and not of God's original design and his dating, or social life. And to this, he responded: "I don't know. I'm just going with the flow. This is the way things are. And I know what the Bible says, but I know that I'm not destined to be single for the rest of my life. I have every intention of marrying the person that I fall in love with." I told Bryan that I would be praying for him. It was all I could say at that moment in time.
Bryan is a nice, fun guy. He's outgoing and the life of the party. However, when I work with him, it feels like my soul is being ripped apart in 20 different directions. That sounds intense, but I don't know how else to describe it. I love this guy--in a brotherly, platonic, un-romantic sort of way, but I also don't agree with his lifestyle, and I'm not talking about him being gay, I'm talking about how he says that he is a Christian but does not seem to take this claim seriously. His eager pursuit of romantic relationships with men seem to also indicate this. I humbly recognize my own inadequacies to make a judgment on anyone due to the massive plank in my own eye, but I also know that if one claims to be a Christian, then they should, at the very least, be distinguishable from those who do not have Jesus Christ in their lives; not because Christians are better than anyone, but because Jesus said so.
It concerns me--and maybe it shouldn't-- that Bryan seems to blend in, almost too well, with my non-Christian co-workers. At first, I wondered if I was just jealous. My co-workers have taken to him like a young child to a puppy dog. They absolutely love him and love to hang out with him, work out with him, eat with him, etc. They probably sense my prudish ways like some sort of "fun-sucker" vibe that I give off. This is most likely the reason why I'm not invited to anything. The general apprehensiveness of my co-workers around me is sometimes amusing, but mostly frustrating. I think I'm just as fun and good-humored as Bryan (tooting my own horn here), but it's like I'm missing that key ingredient that would make me fun to actually hang out with.
Yesterday, as I was working with Bryan and watched him make after work plans with a few people, I wondered to myself what Christian morality really is. I wondered this because of the conversation I had with Bryan about morality. This thought has been prominent in my mind as of late because I am becoming increasingly aware of how different I am from the the people I work with, even though one could say that some us share the same moral attitudes. What is true Christian morality? What makes it different from orthodox moral practices that is widely accepted by the public? What is it that makes Christians different in such a way that Jesus would even say, in John 15:18-19: "If the world hates you, you know that it has hated Me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, because of this the world hates you." There has to be more to morality than not being promiscuous, not getting drunk, not cussing, being respectful to elders, feeding the homeless and going to church, right?
Incidentally, today I read an article that John Piper wrote on Desiring God blog, titled "All Things Are From God, Through God, and To God. The Glory Is All His." It was very encouraging and enlightening, especially this part:
"Morality in the Christian life is not simply the willpower to do right things, because God has the authority to command them. Christian morality is the overflow of worshipping the sovereign, merciful God. Christian life is the fruit of a mind and heart transformed by seeing and savoring the all-sufficiency and sovereignty and mercy of God revealed in Jesus Christ."Thank you, John Piper. What comes to mind when I read this is: "you can't have your cake and eat it, too." One has to really believe that what God has to offer through Jesus Christ is infinitely better than the fleeting, provisional undertakings that this world has to give. "One can't serve two masters..."
Last thing. Important keywords: "overflow of worshipping..." Without the right reverence for God, or an accurate view of who Jesus Christ really is, whatever moral views we hold seem meaningless. The reverence of God IS the keeper of morality. Good is possible because of a healthy fear of God, a fear that exists due to acknowledgment of His sovereignty over all things. Therefore, moral views without reverence of God is not really morality. They're just views.
6.7.08
Training wheels are off.
I did not go to church this morning, which isn't the end of the world, but my conscience felt like it was. I just...decided not to go. Totally lame, I KNOW. Discouraged, dismayed and frustrated with myself, I left my house to journal and talk with God. I spent the next few hours evaluating the thought process that lead to my poor decision this morning.
At this point in my life, there literally is no one around to tell me what to do. I don't feel direct pressure from anyone to do anything. Typical expectations of friends and mentors, pastors and parents are no longer my main points of references--they do not dominate or dictate decisions I make. For example, my whole life I have always felt some sense of obligation to go to church. I hardly ever missed a service--which wasn't hard to do since I was so plugged into the high school and college ministries of my home church. Unfortunately, I realized that those obligations were predominantly founded on pleasing other people, not obeying and worshiping God. This, of course, is no one's fault but mine.
I have never been this free to live life my way. It's kind of scary. Mostly because I'm discovering a lot about myself that I don't like. Just because I'm free to live, it doesn't mean I should do everything I feel like doing. And the things I used to do when I lived under obligations and expectations, I discovered are things that I still need to do, but being freed from legalistic reasoning, I find it hard to motivate myself to do them. I need to want to do them, not for myself--or anyone else-- but for the glory of God! (i.e church attendance, discernment about what movies I watch or music I listen to, spending time in the Word, stewardship of my time, keeping my room clean, balancing my budget, cleaning up after myself, etc.).
It's like I'm learning to ride a bike for the first time. My Father has finally removed the training wheels. He wants me to learn how to balance on my own. And falling is definitely included in the learning process. I'm not going to learn unless I get back up and try again, because God's not going to put the training wheels back on. Never again.
I understand that the bike-analogy probably sucked, but my point is: I realized this morning after getting up from another fall, that the scary thing about discovering freedom in Christ and being released from the chains of legalism is now...the only thing stopping me from taking up my Cross...is...myself. I know that I have to want Jesus more than anything. No one can make me do that! I have to want to use my freedom to live as a slave to righteousness.
"Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving..."
Colossians 2:6
4.7.08
Happy 4th.
That little blurp is about all the patriotism I could muster...pathetic, isn't it? It's not that I don't care--I plead ignorance, not contempt. I like America and appreciate my freedom very much. There are just other things on my mind right now. Brace yourself, this is going to be a long one:
I had to work closing shift and tonight I had the privilege to work with "Steve." Obviously, that's not his real name. But I don't want to embarrass him--nor I-- in the event that he accidentally finds my blog. Being a holiday, work was pretty dead, so Steve and I got to talk a lot. It was amazing how much I found out about his life in about an hour.
At first glance, one would assume that Steve is one of those artsy-eclectic musician types, who loves the planet Earth more than his diurnal (daily) shower. He had an abundance of curly black hair that rested on his head like a well-fitted helmet. He wore black thick-rimmed glasses, a faded periwinkle t-shirt, jean cut-offs and a pair of tattered Vans. Steve seemed ethnically ambiguous because I could not tell what he was until he mentioned his Salvadorian heritage: "...sadly, I know more French than I do Spanish. And...that's not much."
Steve just graduated with a Bachelor's in English at the age of 22 and is planning to get his Master's in Poetry at Portland State University. In retrospect, Steve stated his ambitions so ardently that it was reminiscent of a young boy telling his mother how the first day of kindergarten went. Steve was also equally excited about going to Russia in a couple of weeks to meet his girlfriend's family. The reason for his excitement: "I'm planning to propose to her while we're there," he said, emphatically. He claims that he knew she was "the one" after dating the Russian beauty for five months. "Three years later, and with the both of us moving to Portland in March, I think it would be wiser to be married and live together, than live together and not get married. You know?" In addition to being "pre-engaged," Steve is also a creative and talented poet, a self-taught guitar, banjo and piano player, a self-proclaimed vegetarian with vegan ethics, lover of the Gypsy Den, and a fellow connoisseur of talented, yet obscure musicians. Furthermore, he would rather ride his bike than drive a car and he brings a Nerf gun to work with him, just in case he gets bored.
I found Steve to be super cool, refreshing and inspiring, though I think the average "normal" person would classify him as a social outcast, or someone who doesn't adhere to societal norms. I think he's "normal" enough. He's just not afraid to be different. He doesn't try hard--he knows what he likes and appreciates and doesn't need everyone else's pre-approval to act on his pursuit of those things.
I am realizing more and more how drawn I am to people like Steve. I am attracted to that sort of lifestyle--living for or under obscurity, having a genuine sense of originality by finding ways to live life differently from generations before, thinking deeply about everything, self-expression through creative means, etc. And I feel like I'm in a stage of my life where I'm trying to find a different way to live it, without losing the ultimate focus: the glory of God, through Jesus Christ. But the "way things are" just isn't going to cut it, anymore. I have outgrown the legalistic expectations of the Christian subculture. I am through with just sitting there, mouth agape. I am desperate to make the most of my time here on Earth. I am eager to see what that is supposed to look like because I am free in Jesus Christ! I am free to live my life!
But even as I say this, I hear the voices of people in my life who withhold caution from the wind with tightly closed fists: "BUT...we have an obligation to righteousness. You have to be careful not to abuse that freedom. The Bible tells us that we need to be set apart. You can't just do whatever you want. We need to fear God and obey His commands. Be careful to tame your selfish ambitions." Yes, all of that is true. But are we to be so cautious that we stray too far to the right, and become content with simply sitting and hearing sound doctrine within our respective churches without consciously trying to figure out, how these doctrines are to be lived out in every day life? Isn't it worth risking a mistake in order to figure out what it is that God wants for us to do, how He wants us to impact the world for Christ's name?
It may appear that I have diverging and bifurcating points of interests, but really, what I'm trying to say--in 200,000 words or less--is, I perceive people like Steve are people who actually live life. Granted, that is a gross-over generalization and a completely subjective point of view--in other words, my own personal opinion. I widely accept diversion from the norm as something admirable, mostly because it is hard to do.
But what about Christians, those who have everything to live for, those who have been given freedom to live life abundantly, how are we living?
I feel like we are afraid to live as freely as we ought.
I had to work closing shift and tonight I had the privilege to work with "Steve." Obviously, that's not his real name. But I don't want to embarrass him--nor I-- in the event that he accidentally finds my blog. Being a holiday, work was pretty dead, so Steve and I got to talk a lot. It was amazing how much I found out about his life in about an hour.
At first glance, one would assume that Steve is one of those artsy-eclectic musician types, who loves the planet Earth more than his diurnal (daily) shower. He had an abundance of curly black hair that rested on his head like a well-fitted helmet. He wore black thick-rimmed glasses, a faded periwinkle t-shirt, jean cut-offs and a pair of tattered Vans. Steve seemed ethnically ambiguous because I could not tell what he was until he mentioned his Salvadorian heritage: "...sadly, I know more French than I do Spanish. And...that's not much."
Steve just graduated with a Bachelor's in English at the age of 22 and is planning to get his Master's in Poetry at Portland State University. In retrospect, Steve stated his ambitions so ardently that it was reminiscent of a young boy telling his mother how the first day of kindergarten went. Steve was also equally excited about going to Russia in a couple of weeks to meet his girlfriend's family. The reason for his excitement: "I'm planning to propose to her while we're there," he said, emphatically. He claims that he knew she was "the one" after dating the Russian beauty for five months. "Three years later, and with the both of us moving to Portland in March, I think it would be wiser to be married and live together, than live together and not get married. You know?" In addition to being "pre-engaged," Steve is also a creative and talented poet, a self-taught guitar, banjo and piano player, a self-proclaimed vegetarian with vegan ethics, lover of the Gypsy Den, and a fellow connoisseur of talented, yet obscure musicians. Furthermore, he would rather ride his bike than drive a car and he brings a Nerf gun to work with him, just in case he gets bored.
I found Steve to be super cool, refreshing and inspiring, though I think the average "normal" person would classify him as a social outcast, or someone who doesn't adhere to societal norms. I think he's "normal" enough. He's just not afraid to be different. He doesn't try hard--he knows what he likes and appreciates and doesn't need everyone else's pre-approval to act on his pursuit of those things.
I am realizing more and more how drawn I am to people like Steve. I am attracted to that sort of lifestyle--living for or under obscurity, having a genuine sense of originality by finding ways to live life differently from generations before, thinking deeply about everything, self-expression through creative means, etc. And I feel like I'm in a stage of my life where I'm trying to find a different way to live it, without losing the ultimate focus: the glory of God, through Jesus Christ. But the "way things are" just isn't going to cut it, anymore. I have outgrown the legalistic expectations of the Christian subculture. I am through with just sitting there, mouth agape. I am desperate to make the most of my time here on Earth. I am eager to see what that is supposed to look like because I am free in Jesus Christ! I am free to live my life!
But even as I say this, I hear the voices of people in my life who withhold caution from the wind with tightly closed fists: "BUT...we have an obligation to righteousness. You have to be careful not to abuse that freedom. The Bible tells us that we need to be set apart. You can't just do whatever you want. We need to fear God and obey His commands. Be careful to tame your selfish ambitions." Yes, all of that is true. But are we to be so cautious that we stray too far to the right, and become content with simply sitting and hearing sound doctrine within our respective churches without consciously trying to figure out, how these doctrines are to be lived out in every day life? Isn't it worth risking a mistake in order to figure out what it is that God wants for us to do, how He wants us to impact the world for Christ's name?
It may appear that I have diverging and bifurcating points of interests, but really, what I'm trying to say--in 200,000 words or less--is, I perceive people like Steve are people who actually live life. Granted, that is a gross-over generalization and a completely subjective point of view--in other words, my own personal opinion. I widely accept diversion from the norm as something admirable, mostly because it is hard to do.
But what about Christians, those who have everything to live for, those who have been given freedom to live life abundantly, how are we living?
I feel like we are afraid to live as freely as we ought.
27.6.08
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,
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)