They don't know that I go running home when I fall down.
They don't know Who picks me up when no one is around.
I drop my sword and cry for just a while
Because deep inside this armor
The warrior is a child.
~Twila Paris
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Monday, April 06, 2009
Remix: eAssuage
It's pretty funny that I found this. I think someone out there reads my blog...
...probably not. :-(
...probably not. :-(
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Other Shoe, Where are You?
So...
...I have been feeling really blessed lately.
Really, really blessed.
JCA had a prayer vigil recently, and for the first time I managed to stay awake throughout the entire service. Whether this is a testament to my maturity in Christ or the receiving of adequate rest the night before, I am not sure. I do know that P.Matt's message was so ridiculously applicable to my life at that point in time that I had trouble writing notes, out of my earnestness to not miss any convicting word. I entered into the time of prayer so moved that I had a hard time praying at first. There was so much pain, so much anger, so much frustration at God for the suffering that I have been going through, so much that I thought I'd aired out a long time ago. I found myself shouting at God, which was strange because after a while I felt like I began to shout at myself. The best way to describe it is that the words that I said bounced back to me in a different form. In this form I saw that God had been in the thick of these hard times, holding me through the fire, even while I tried to thrash and kick out of his grasp like a petulant child.
I really met with God that night.
Now I am back in my sphere, and it has been wonderful to know that God has followed me right into it. I find that He has been pervading my thoughts more and more, even when I'd rather that He did not. I feel so much peace walking to and from classes, to the point that I do not even have to play one of my favorite Christian songs on my Zune to remind me of God's grace and mercy--I feel like I'm swimming in it at every moment. God has been elucidating Scripture that was once too dull for me to mull over, causing me to just skim through to continue on my quest to finish the entire Bible. I truly do feel lost in Him.
Which honestly scares the crap out of me.
I remember in Uganda there was one night near the beginning of the trip where I woke up with the most gross, slimy, cold feeling ever. I tried my best to describe it in my journal that day:
That morning proved to be one of the most vulnerable moments of my life. I had no happy thought, no cute quote or practical saying to rescue me. I was powerless. All I could do was reach out for the hand of my Father as I sunk deeper into the ocean. All I could pray was for Him to save me. And He did. Again and again he did. But still I struggle.
I feel that I have a decent handle on things in my life. I feel secure in where I am and where I am going. I feel in controlllll... And now I stress about whether God plans to inconvenience me enough to guide me towards His path for me. I'd rather He just follow my practical itinerary. I am afraid of how He plans on accomplishing His will in my life. When the other shoe drops, I am afraid of losing what I hold dear. I don't want to hate my mother, or my father, for that matter. I don't want to sell all of my possessions just for a field. I am still debating about whether to die truly is gain...
....and yet, even as I type this, I realize that I am only kidding myself. I know that this is the good life. I know that my ascribed worth is all that I could ever, ever live for. Even as I try and brace myself for hard times, I am realizing that God wants me to rest in Him even in the good times. God's beauty is slowly--so slowly--but surely becoming the only object in focus in my life. Instead of analyzing every emotion and motive, He wants me to seriously just let go. He has me firmly in His grasp, and though I kick and scream I know that He will never leave me.
What can I say? I serve an amazing God. :) :) :)
...I have been feeling really blessed lately.
Really, really blessed.
JCA had a prayer vigil recently, and for the first time I managed to stay awake throughout the entire service. Whether this is a testament to my maturity in Christ or the receiving of adequate rest the night before, I am not sure. I do know that P.Matt's message was so ridiculously applicable to my life at that point in time that I had trouble writing notes, out of my earnestness to not miss any convicting word. I entered into the time of prayer so moved that I had a hard time praying at first. There was so much pain, so much anger, so much frustration at God for the suffering that I have been going through, so much that I thought I'd aired out a long time ago. I found myself shouting at God, which was strange because after a while I felt like I began to shout at myself. The best way to describe it is that the words that I said bounced back to me in a different form. In this form I saw that God had been in the thick of these hard times, holding me through the fire, even while I tried to thrash and kick out of his grasp like a petulant child.
I really met with God that night.
Now I am back in my sphere, and it has been wonderful to know that God has followed me right into it. I find that He has been pervading my thoughts more and more, even when I'd rather that He did not. I feel so much peace walking to and from classes, to the point that I do not even have to play one of my favorite Christian songs on my Zune to remind me of God's grace and mercy--I feel like I'm swimming in it at every moment. God has been elucidating Scripture that was once too dull for me to mull over, causing me to just skim through to continue on my quest to finish the entire Bible. I truly do feel lost in Him.
Which honestly scares the crap out of me.
I remember in Uganda there was one night near the beginning of the trip where I woke up with the most gross, slimy, cold feeling ever. I tried my best to describe it in my journal that day:
I feel like God is going to leave me...I want to serve God, but I don't want Him to leave me...how can a God so big, the one who made this beautiful African sky....how can He want to stay with a sinner, a horrible person like me? I feel like I still have one foot one the ground here on Earth, like I am trying to fly with leaden wings. Right now I feel like....I am fading into and out of reality, like there is something I am supposed to be reaching, but I can't touch it because my mind is pegged to everything that I know, to everything that I think that I should know....I feel restless, yucky, nauseated, weak.
That morning proved to be one of the most vulnerable moments of my life. I had no happy thought, no cute quote or practical saying to rescue me. I was powerless. All I could do was reach out for the hand of my Father as I sunk deeper into the ocean. All I could pray was for Him to save me. And He did. Again and again he did. But still I struggle.
I feel that I have a decent handle on things in my life. I feel secure in where I am and where I am going. I feel in controlllll... And now I stress about whether God plans to inconvenience me enough to guide me towards His path for me. I'd rather He just follow my practical itinerary. I am afraid of how He plans on accomplishing His will in my life. When the other shoe drops, I am afraid of losing what I hold dear. I don't want to hate my mother, or my father, for that matter. I don't want to sell all of my possessions just for a field. I am still debating about whether to die truly is gain...
....and yet, even as I type this, I realize that I am only kidding myself. I know that this is the good life. I know that my ascribed worth is all that I could ever, ever live for. Even as I try and brace myself for hard times, I am realizing that God wants me to rest in Him even in the good times. God's beauty is slowly--so slowly--but surely becoming the only object in focus in my life. Instead of analyzing every emotion and motive, He wants me to seriously just let go. He has me firmly in His grasp, and though I kick and scream I know that He will never leave me.
What can I say? I serve an amazing God. :) :) :)
Sunday, February 15, 2009
eAssuage
I have reached the conclusion that any and every difficult situation--namely an awkward comment made on a chat conversation, or a really difficult email that must be sent--can be mollified with the simple addition of a colon and a closed parentheses. A dash may also be added into this formula if you want to be fancy. Our generation is the IM generation, and what was once thought as a kind of a hokey and corny way to tell people how you feel on the internet is now a necessary addition to almost every conversation that is held online. I don't know about anyone else, but I use the smiley sometimes if I say (or type) something that comes off a little awkward, or if something that is not completely kosher escapes my fingers before common sense kicks in.
Exhibit A:
me: what are you doing tonight?
loserfriend99: I dunno, probably nothing
me:oh ok
loserfriend99: i dunno, it feels like none of my friends ever want to hang out anymore
me: hmmmm
do you think its b/c of your body odor, your fashion sense, or your lack of ability to sustain a conversation?
:-)
Just like that I have catapulted my backhanded insult into the land of sarcasm and tongue-in-cheek, where nothing can truly be taken personally. For all my friend knows I was just teasing, even though my actual intention was to share with them traits of their personality that I abhor. See? No one gets hurt. All with the stroke of 2-3 keys.
Exhibit B
boyfriend4ever: What do you want to do on Vday?
I'll do anything you want
I just rented out a 5 star restaurant in the city
afterwards we can stroll through the park.....
....where a 12 piece orchestra will be serenading us with all of "our songs"
but thats only if you want to
what do you think
.........
Pooky bear?
playersgottaplay72: Sorry, I don't think I'll be able to come....i was planning on going out with my other, more attractive boyfriend that night.....thanks though ;-)
What you are experiencing right now is the cognitive dissonance that the previous chat evoked. The girl managed to weasel her way out of a potentially messy break up with a one-liner, and her icing of choice on this cake of doom was the wink smiley, spunky cousin of the normal emoticon. The boyfriend wants to be angry, but her thoughtful gesture has convinced him the girl would totally do it if she hadn't had previous obligations. Are you getting it?
I know that I am preaching to the choir here, for you all are well-versed with the healing power of the smiley. I will just end this by saying that perhaps we can extend this magical tool into other arenas? Perhaps there would not be as much animosity between gangs on the streets if instead of signs, they threw up a ":-P!!" in an intense duel. Perhaps the divorce rate would reach a significant decrease if husbands and wives would hurl "wink! tongue out! mad face tongue out!" instead of insults at each other. Perhaps politics would not be so messy if opposing parties would just end every filibuster with a mutual smiley-exchanging session. I'm just saying.
We very well might have world peace on our hands.
Don't screw it up, losers :-)
Exhibit A:
me: what are you doing tonight?
loserfriend99: I dunno, probably nothing
me:oh ok
loserfriend99: i dunno, it feels like none of my friends ever want to hang out anymore
me: hmmmm
do you think its b/c of your body odor, your fashion sense, or your lack of ability to sustain a conversation?
:-)
Just like that I have catapulted my backhanded insult into the land of sarcasm and tongue-in-cheek, where nothing can truly be taken personally. For all my friend knows I was just teasing, even though my actual intention was to share with them traits of their personality that I abhor. See? No one gets hurt. All with the stroke of 2-3 keys.
Exhibit B
boyfriend4ever: What do you want to do on Vday?
I'll do anything you want
I just rented out a 5 star restaurant in the city
afterwards we can stroll through the park.....
....where a 12 piece orchestra will be serenading us with all of "our songs"
but thats only if you want to
what do you think
.........
Pooky bear?
playersgottaplay72: Sorry, I don't think I'll be able to come....i was planning on going out with my other, more attractive boyfriend that night.....thanks though ;-)
What you are experiencing right now is the cognitive dissonance that the previous chat evoked. The girl managed to weasel her way out of a potentially messy break up with a one-liner, and her icing of choice on this cake of doom was the wink smiley, spunky cousin of the normal emoticon. The boyfriend wants to be angry, but her thoughtful gesture has convinced him the girl would totally do it if she hadn't had previous obligations. Are you getting it?
I know that I am preaching to the choir here, for you all are well-versed with the healing power of the smiley. I will just end this by saying that perhaps we can extend this magical tool into other arenas? Perhaps there would not be as much animosity between gangs on the streets if instead of signs, they threw up a ":-P!!" in an intense duel. Perhaps the divorce rate would reach a significant decrease if husbands and wives would hurl "wink! tongue out! mad face tongue out!" instead of insults at each other. Perhaps politics would not be so messy if opposing parties would just end every filibuster with a mutual smiley-exchanging session. I'm just saying.
We very well might have world peace on our hands.
Don't screw it up, losers :-)
Monday, January 26, 2009
I will return
I promise.
I really do miss blogging.
I think....I have just been really lazy.
I have started, like, 5 blog entries, but I always forget to finish them....
...shame on me.
So this is just a teaser post to say....
I'm coming back.
I really do miss blogging.
I think....I have just been really lazy.
I have started, like, 5 blog entries, but I always forget to finish them....
...shame on me.
So this is just a teaser post to say....
I'm coming back.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Lesson Learned
I'd like to believe that friends are forever.
It is so weird to think that when friendships go sour, fingers can often not be pointed at either party without 4 fingers pointing back at them, or however the expression goes....and so the dance begins.
Now that I am older I find myself learning more and more how to become vulnerable in relationships, and it really sucks sometimes. The risk that is put forward to let someone into your inadequacies is so high, because I realize that sometimes people don't return the favor. This is always the chance that you have to take, and I think that it is easier when the journey is constant. It is a matter of two people choosing to open up more and more, gingerly rolling up their sleeves and exposing their scars to the other at the expense of their pride. It hurts, it's painful...and yet, it feels so good.
But what happens when there is a dead end on the path of friendship? What happens when the joke is now on you? What happens when you feel like you hung yourself out to dry, and now you are left to let your hindsight and your good judgment beat you into the wind? I hate the fact that sometimes even friendships suffer economic crises. I hate the fact that everything invested into a relationship does not necessarily yield the returns that I'd like. The standard currency of trust and value turns into a sort of barter system, where apparently a mile is worth just as much as an inch. I hate it. And I love it.
I know that it will pay off in the end. I know that my relationships in the future will be made better because of my relationships in the past. I know that slowly but surely these situations are there to sand away the rough edges of my heart, and to help polish it so its an even better offering for those who enter my life later, and especially as a better offering for God. I know that this is life.
But it's still hard.
And it still hurts.
It is so weird to think that when friendships go sour, fingers can often not be pointed at either party without 4 fingers pointing back at them, or however the expression goes....and so the dance begins.
Now that I am older I find myself learning more and more how to become vulnerable in relationships, and it really sucks sometimes. The risk that is put forward to let someone into your inadequacies is so high, because I realize that sometimes people don't return the favor. This is always the chance that you have to take, and I think that it is easier when the journey is constant. It is a matter of two people choosing to open up more and more, gingerly rolling up their sleeves and exposing their scars to the other at the expense of their pride. It hurts, it's painful...and yet, it feels so good.
But what happens when there is a dead end on the path of friendship? What happens when the joke is now on you? What happens when you feel like you hung yourself out to dry, and now you are left to let your hindsight and your good judgment beat you into the wind? I hate the fact that sometimes even friendships suffer economic crises. I hate the fact that everything invested into a relationship does not necessarily yield the returns that I'd like. The standard currency of trust and value turns into a sort of barter system, where apparently a mile is worth just as much as an inch. I hate it. And I love it.
I know that it will pay off in the end. I know that my relationships in the future will be made better because of my relationships in the past. I know that slowly but surely these situations are there to sand away the rough edges of my heart, and to help polish it so its an even better offering for those who enter my life later, and especially as a better offering for God. I know that this is life.
But it's still hard.
And it still hurts.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Oh, the Places You Go!
You know, I feel like I just wasted a perfectly good title on a semi-useless blog entry. I was just sitting here, wasting time and I realized that I had the most amazing summer ever. On top of missions, etc, I got to really go around the USA as well as the world. Here are all the places that i went to within those 3 months:
--Georgia
--South Carolina
--Philadelphia, PA
--New York
--Dubai
--Uganda
--Kenya
--St. Louis
--Memphis
Twas awesome, and I got to meet some amazing people as well as hear some amazing stories.
Yup.
That is all.
--Georgia
--South Carolina
--Philadelphia, PA
--New York
--Dubai
--Uganda
--Kenya
--St. Louis
--Memphis
Twas awesome, and I got to meet some amazing people as well as hear some amazing stories.
Yup.
That is all.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Spiritual Pinata
This has been a crazy, crazy, crazy semester.
I think my emotions have been just one big roller coaster for the past couple of weeks. Everything was cranked from 0-100 mph in a very short amount of time, and the skid marks on my brain are evidence that I did not speed up accordingly. There have been times I think that I just want to leave everything and everyone that I love, and just ride on a escalator that neither goes up or down, just glides past the shambles that I fondly refer to as "my life". This desire to run away from everything is a coping mechanism, and it is also like a weird rash. It flares up every once in a while, but when it does it always feels like the first time.
But God....has been so faithful. I have felt the weight of my sins so heavily, to the point of weariness when I think about the consequences of my actions, or lack thereof. The point of reconciliation for many of the hurts that I have caused people has passed. The point of repair of the many transgressions that I have committed has long since expired. I am left with the rotten peels of these wrongdoings. I feel completely disjointed from everything I believe, and the little light in my heart dims almost to extinction.... But then there is always an instance, perhaps in the form of a kind word, a nice email, a good grade, or even sand in a bottle....God always sends little messages that remind me that this, along with everything in life, shall pass. He always picks me back up again, filling me with less of a spiritual high and more of an unspeakable joy that penetrates deeper and deeper into my heart's core with the passing of every situation. The deeper those roots, the closer I feel to God...and that is why I rejoice in the hard times.
Right now I'm more tired than I can remember ever being. I have had assignment after assignment, test after test, nonstop for over a week now. I have not slept in my bed in a couple of days. I am pulling through to the last minute, and although it is hard, I see that God keeps steering me back to the right place, directing me like a blindfolded child back to a spiritual Pinata. His glory will totally be shown in the end, and all I can say that I was privileged to witness it. I can't wait to sleep tomorrow night, but until that time comes, I will rest in Him. When I was in Uganda and I wanted to wake up early to do my quiet times, I found myself always repeating "I don't need sleep...I need Jesus." As extreme as that is, I think I need to adopt that stance again. When the rug of physical comforts is yanked out from under my feet, it is those times that I can see clearly where my strength lies.
Yesu Opaki forever.
*When I got tired of running from you
I stopped right there to catch my breath
There your words they caught my ears
You said, "I miss you son. Come home"
And my sins, they watched me leave
And in my heart I so believed
The love you felt for me was more than
The love I'd wished for all this time
And when the doors were closed
I heard no I told so's
I said the words I knew you knew
Oh God, Oh God I needed you
God all this time I needed you
I needed you...*
~Relient K
I think my emotions have been just one big roller coaster for the past couple of weeks. Everything was cranked from 0-100 mph in a very short amount of time, and the skid marks on my brain are evidence that I did not speed up accordingly. There have been times I think that I just want to leave everything and everyone that I love, and just ride on a escalator that neither goes up or down, just glides past the shambles that I fondly refer to as "my life". This desire to run away from everything is a coping mechanism, and it is also like a weird rash. It flares up every once in a while, but when it does it always feels like the first time.
But God....has been so faithful. I have felt the weight of my sins so heavily, to the point of weariness when I think about the consequences of my actions, or lack thereof. The point of reconciliation for many of the hurts that I have caused people has passed. The point of repair of the many transgressions that I have committed has long since expired. I am left with the rotten peels of these wrongdoings. I feel completely disjointed from everything I believe, and the little light in my heart dims almost to extinction.... But then there is always an instance, perhaps in the form of a kind word, a nice email, a good grade, or even sand in a bottle....God always sends little messages that remind me that this, along with everything in life, shall pass. He always picks me back up again, filling me with less of a spiritual high and more of an unspeakable joy that penetrates deeper and deeper into my heart's core with the passing of every situation. The deeper those roots, the closer I feel to God...and that is why I rejoice in the hard times.
Right now I'm more tired than I can remember ever being. I have had assignment after assignment, test after test, nonstop for over a week now. I have not slept in my bed in a couple of days. I am pulling through to the last minute, and although it is hard, I see that God keeps steering me back to the right place, directing me like a blindfolded child back to a spiritual Pinata. His glory will totally be shown in the end, and all I can say that I was privileged to witness it. I can't wait to sleep tomorrow night, but until that time comes, I will rest in Him. When I was in Uganda and I wanted to wake up early to do my quiet times, I found myself always repeating "I don't need sleep...I need Jesus." As extreme as that is, I think I need to adopt that stance again. When the rug of physical comforts is yanked out from under my feet, it is those times that I can see clearly where my strength lies.
Yesu Opaki forever.
*When I got tired of running from you
I stopped right there to catch my breath
There your words they caught my ears
You said, "I miss you son. Come home"
And my sins, they watched me leave
And in my heart I so believed
The love you felt for me was more than
The love I'd wished for all this time
And when the doors were closed
I heard no I told so's
I said the words I knew you knew
Oh God, Oh God I needed you
God all this time I needed you
I needed you...*
~Relient K
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
A Stunning Revelation....or Not
I can't dance.
It is painful for me to type this, but I realize that I need to come to grips with my shortcomings. Seriously though, there is something that is disconnected between my brain and the rest of my body whenever some sort of rhythmic, vibing, pulsating beat hits my eardrums. This affliction is not a new discovery, I am just woman enough to admit it, now.
When I was a young girl, I remember when all of my grandmother's grandchildren used to dance to the songs at the end of Disney movies, like "Beauty and the Beast" at the end of Beauty and the Beast, or "Under the Sea" at the end of The Little Mermaid. Now during the latter song, the Bajan in all of the grandchildren would stir up inside and there would be a little reggae party up in there. I remember something stirring inside my soul, too, and before I would know it, my arms would flail everywhere, my feet would make random kicks, and I would put forth my best effort to make poetry of the body. All I remember is that after a while, my cousins did not want to dance with me anymore--and I don't blame them. It was totally the David Brent Charity Dance, 5-year-old style. My dancing routine became lethal, and I eventually had to retire it.
Now I sit here, after going on a missions trip, where we performed many, many routines in Uganda and Kenya. The stunning revelation was this: people totally did not care about my proficiency of dancing, whether I could keep the beat or not, or whether I looked good doing it. That was really refreshing to see. I gave my best there, and that was really all that mattered in the end.
Well, I have decided that I am not a great dancer, but I am fairly decent. Enough to fool people when I am standing on the side of a dark room, and people's vision is already distracted by seizure-inducing bright strobe lights. I am completely all right with not ever being good enough to be the next Harajuku girl--although I am willing to still submit the application, hoping that that the whole not-being-Japanese thing doesn't get in the way. Who knows? Maybe I'll be the next star on the upcoming Fox Reality Show "So You Think You Can Dance...But the Mirror Suggests Otherwise" (Thursdays this Fall). I'll let you know....
Until then, this is Tamara, mediocre dancer, disgrace to her parents and her heritage (and proud of it), over and out.
"Bust a move."
~Young MC
It is painful for me to type this, but I realize that I need to come to grips with my shortcomings. Seriously though, there is something that is disconnected between my brain and the rest of my body whenever some sort of rhythmic, vibing, pulsating beat hits my eardrums. This affliction is not a new discovery, I am just woman enough to admit it, now.
When I was a young girl, I remember when all of my grandmother's grandchildren used to dance to the songs at the end of Disney movies, like "Beauty and the Beast" at the end of Beauty and the Beast, or "Under the Sea" at the end of The Little Mermaid. Now during the latter song, the Bajan in all of the grandchildren would stir up inside and there would be a little reggae party up in there. I remember something stirring inside my soul, too, and before I would know it, my arms would flail everywhere, my feet would make random kicks, and I would put forth my best effort to make poetry of the body. All I remember is that after a while, my cousins did not want to dance with me anymore--and I don't blame them. It was totally the David Brent Charity Dance, 5-year-old style. My dancing routine became lethal, and I eventually had to retire it.
Now I sit here, after going on a missions trip, where we performed many, many routines in Uganda and Kenya. The stunning revelation was this: people totally did not care about my proficiency of dancing, whether I could keep the beat or not, or whether I looked good doing it. That was really refreshing to see. I gave my best there, and that was really all that mattered in the end.
Well, I have decided that I am not a great dancer, but I am fairly decent. Enough to fool people when I am standing on the side of a dark room, and people's vision is already distracted by seizure-inducing bright strobe lights. I am completely all right with not ever being good enough to be the next Harajuku girl--although I am willing to still submit the application, hoping that that the whole not-being-Japanese thing doesn't get in the way. Who knows? Maybe I'll be the next star on the upcoming Fox Reality Show "So You Think You Can Dance...But the Mirror Suggests Otherwise" (Thursdays this Fall). I'll let you know....
Until then, this is Tamara, mediocre dancer, disgrace to her parents and her heritage (and proud of it), over and out.
"Bust a move."
~Young MC
What Kind of Love: An Ode to Facebook
I remember when we were introduced
Through mutual friends
I
heard about you
They said we would go great together
so I tried
I couldn't deny the power
of your simple design
As weeks flew by
I began to wonder
How life dared moved on
before we met
I remember the flutter in my heart
When I saw that you'd wrote
And I opened the blue-lettered messages
I could not understand the feeling inside
but I knew it was right
When I went to college I realized that our relationship
would change
not sure how
but now I know
it was only for the better
and yet
something told me you'd change
little hints you throw
every guard you'd drop
the warning signs so clear
When you started to get caught up in the buzz
feeding me news of friends that I cared little about
Realizing that you spent so much time
Biding the times of others
I was suspect
But I relented
Feeling guilty,
I repented
of my doubting stance
And we were cool
Until now
once again, you reformed
Broke the norm
The uproar
about your tabbed makeover
I have to agree
Trading in organized simplicity
for beta trends
I am ashamed
you conformed
But through this rebuke
I will say
I'll get used to you
one day
you won't care what others say is best
you will be the usual
one I grew to love
but for now
our status
is not love
just tolerance.
Through mutual friends
I
heard about you
They said we would go great together
so I tried
I couldn't deny the power
of your simple design
As weeks flew by
I began to wonder
How life dared moved on
before we met
I remember the flutter in my heart
When I saw that you'd wrote
And I opened the blue-lettered messages
I could not understand the feeling inside
but I knew it was right
When I went to college I realized that our relationship
would change
not sure how
but now I know
it was only for the better
and yet
something told me you'd change
little hints you throw
every guard you'd drop
the warning signs so clear
When you started to get caught up in the buzz
feeding me news of friends that I cared little about
Realizing that you spent so much time
Biding the times of others
I was suspect
But I relented
Feeling guilty,
I repented
of my doubting stance
And we were cool
Until now
once again, you reformed
Broke the norm
The uproar
about your tabbed makeover
I have to agree
Trading in organized simplicity
for beta trends
I am ashamed
you conformed
But through this rebuke
I will say
I'll get used to you
one day
you won't care what others say is best
you will be the usual
one I grew to love
but for now
our status
is not love
just tolerance.
Fashion Shows, and Why I Suck at Them
I have decided that I am not and never will be a good judge of fashion. Shows such as Project Runway have proven this to me. These shows, therefore, will never pique my interest. Not because I am a tomboy or anything....I used to be, but I have become more girlie as the years go on. And it's not because I don't enjoy watching a bunch of gay guys and girls have cat fights with each other--I mean, who doesn't? Maybe it's because I think that anything the aspiring designers design is quite literally the fugliest thing that could have ever been created, and it boggles my mind when "experts" state otherwise.
You see, when I watch another show like American Idol, I can hear if the person is off-key or not. On America's Next Top Model, I can see if it's a bad picture or not. During the judges' deliberation on the above shows, my usual dialogue with the TV goes something like this (and yes, I do talk back to the TV):
Tams: Wow that guy was amazing! Did you hear his amazing rendition of [insert obscure 80's song here]? I almost cried....surely Simon did, too.
Randy: Yo dawg, a little pitchy for me, but that a'ight dog.
Paula: That...was...ugh...you...are...I...can't....believe...chills.
Simon: Ahbsolootely pathetic. The woost performance of the night.
Tams: Yeah, I mean it was OK, but he totally screwed up that last line. I totally heard it and I was totally going to say that, before the judges, who did not skew my previous views at all...yeah.
And this is me when I watch highly specialized shows like Project Runway:
Tams: Dang....that dress is pretty ugly.
Heidi: Your style, your fashion really shown through in this round. You will go far.
Obscure gay dude: Mmm hmm. Tell it girlfriend.
Random fashion has-been: I am going to give my opinion as though it ever mattered when I was in Vogue 20 years ago, so I can pretend that it matters now. I completely agree with Heidi.
Tams: Dang....that dress is pretty ugly.
To all of the people out there who can watch these shows such as Project Runway or even cooking shows on Food Network (which deserves a post all on its own), I commend you. Teach me your ways. But for now, I am perfectly satisfied with country bumpkins who might be the next 15-minute-famer for the next two years, or pretty-faced tall women who girl fight for 13 episodes for the coveted role in a 20-second Covergirl ad, never to be seen again.
Now that's quality television.
You see, when I watch another show like American Idol, I can hear if the person is off-key or not. On America's Next Top Model, I can see if it's a bad picture or not. During the judges' deliberation on the above shows, my usual dialogue with the TV goes something like this (and yes, I do talk back to the TV):
Tams: Wow that guy was amazing! Did you hear his amazing rendition of [insert obscure 80's song here]? I almost cried....surely Simon did, too.
Randy: Yo dawg, a little pitchy for me, but that a'ight dog.
Paula: That...was...ugh...you...are...I...can't....believe...chills.
Simon: Ahbsolootely pathetic. The woost performance of the night.
Tams: Yeah, I mean it was OK, but he totally screwed up that last line. I totally heard it and I was totally going to say that, before the judges, who did not skew my previous views at all...yeah.
And this is me when I watch highly specialized shows like Project Runway:
Tams: Dang....that dress is pretty ugly.
Heidi: Your style, your fashion really shown through in this round. You will go far.
Obscure gay dude: Mmm hmm. Tell it girlfriend.
Random fashion has-been: I am going to give my opinion as though it ever mattered when I was in Vogue 20 years ago, so I can pretend that it matters now. I completely agree with Heidi.
Tams: Dang....that dress is pretty ugly.
To all of the people out there who can watch these shows such as Project Runway or even cooking shows on Food Network (which deserves a post all on its own), I commend you. Teach me your ways. But for now, I am perfectly satisfied with country bumpkins who might be the next 15-minute-famer for the next two years, or pretty-faced tall women who girl fight for 13 episodes for the coveted role in a 20-second Covergirl ad, never to be seen again.
Now that's quality television.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Potentially the Second Worst Week of my Life
If I were to base the awesome-meter of my life on pure circumstance, this week would definitely err towards the side of "craptastic", and this is why:
--I am currently on crutches, all due to a freak jump rope accident. That's right, jump rope (Hi, my name is Tamara Johnson, and I am 5 years old). The way that I landed on the ground had me sprain my knee really badly, and it has not healed. I have had a hard time getting from class to class, deciding not to go to the majority of them because the little time that I have in between classes would put too much strain on my knee. This is the first major injury that I have ever sustained...disregarding that time when I squeezed my thumb in the car door, and my thumbnail literally fell off of my skin after a few months (do write if you'd like even more gooey details). I have been struggling, being made even more aware of my handicap with each step that I take.
--I have 3 tests this week, my first test week since Spring semester. I had one on Wednesday that I wish went a lot better than it did, and I have two tests tomorrow. On top of that I have my first major lab report for Synthesis Lab due this week. My motivation to do anything (including study) is zero, and it shows.
--I have a cold.
--I have a toothache.
--My hamster Squeakers died.
OK, the last one is a lie, but everything else is really going on in my life. So why do I feel so semi-joyful? Why, in the midst of chaos, do I feel somewhat numb, even happy-ish? Well, I will list all of the reasons....tomorrow. When I have finished my tests.
In the meanwhile, I hope your day is going swimmingly. I have a new number now, so if you did not get the memo message me so that I can give it to you.
To be continued.
--I am currently on crutches, all due to a freak jump rope accident. That's right, jump rope (Hi, my name is Tamara Johnson, and I am 5 years old). The way that I landed on the ground had me sprain my knee really badly, and it has not healed. I have had a hard time getting from class to class, deciding not to go to the majority of them because the little time that I have in between classes would put too much strain on my knee. This is the first major injury that I have ever sustained...disregarding that time when I squeezed my thumb in the car door, and my thumbnail literally fell off of my skin after a few months (do write if you'd like even more gooey details). I have been struggling, being made even more aware of my handicap with each step that I take.
--I have 3 tests this week, my first test week since Spring semester. I had one on Wednesday that I wish went a lot better than it did, and I have two tests tomorrow. On top of that I have my first major lab report for Synthesis Lab due this week. My motivation to do anything (including study) is zero, and it shows.
--I have a cold.
--I have a toothache.
--My hamster Squeakers died.
OK, the last one is a lie, but everything else is really going on in my life. So why do I feel so semi-joyful? Why, in the midst of chaos, do I feel somewhat numb, even happy-ish? Well, I will list all of the reasons....tomorrow. When I have finished my tests.
In the meanwhile, I hope your day is going swimmingly. I have a new number now, so if you did not get the memo message me so that I can give it to you.
To be continued.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Important Announcement
Dear friends, family, and people who randomly stumble upon this blog:
Let it be known that I, as well as my sister Amanda, am currently cell phone-less, as we will be getting a new one within an indefinite period of time. Until then I am best reached by email (quasiblasian@gmail.com) or random meetings. Sorry if you called me or texted me recently....I didn't get it, those messages are now floating in Communication Purgatory. I am sorry for any inconvenience that this has caused you, but believe me, it sucks for me, too. I do not hate you all, I hope that when I get a new phone we can still be friends, because I am under the sneaking suspicion that I am losing friends because of lack of communication, even as I type....I love you guys, feel free to email or chat anytime.
Have a great day!
Let it be known that I, as well as my sister Amanda, am currently cell phone-less, as we will be getting a new one within an indefinite period of time. Until then I am best reached by email (quasiblasian@gmail.com) or random meetings. Sorry if you called me or texted me recently....I didn't get it, those messages are now floating in Communication Purgatory. I am sorry for any inconvenience that this has caused you, but believe me, it sucks for me, too. I do not hate you all, I hope that when I get a new phone we can still be friends, because I am under the sneaking suspicion that I am losing friends because of lack of communication, even as I type....I love you guys, feel free to email or chat anytime.
Have a great day!
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
It's 4:30 in the morning
And I cannot seem to go back to sleep.
*thinks of something interesting to write about*
....
I got nothing.
My hair is really big.
I cannot believe that school starts in 5 days. I am kind of scared, actually, because in my head I am still mentally debriefing from missions, so my motivation to do anything productive is zero. My to-do list has been only half-tackled every day, and it kind of freaks me out that soon I will be a student again. Over the summer i got a lot of insight as to what my role as a student is, but I do not think this is the right time to share it. I do know that it is Wednesday, which is a few days before Friday, which means that Sunday is not too far away, which means that Monday is ALMOST HERE.
*breathes*
One day at a time....one day at a time.
I still can't sleep.
Here is something that has been occupying my time...brilliant.
*It’s well past midnight
And I’m awake with questions that won’t
Wait for daylight
Separating fact from my imaginary fiction
On this shelf of my conviction
I need to find a place
Where You and I come face to face
Thomas needed
Proof that You had really risen
Undefeated
When he placed his fingers
Where the nails once broke Your skin
Did his faith finally begin?
I’ve lied if I’ve denied
The common ground I’ve shared with him
And I, I really want to know You
I want to make each day
A different way that I can show You how
I really want to love You
Be patient with my doubt
I’m just tryin’ to figure out Your will
And I really want to know You still.*
~Nichole Nordeman
*thinks of something interesting to write about*
....
I got nothing.
My hair is really big.
I cannot believe that school starts in 5 days. I am kind of scared, actually, because in my head I am still mentally debriefing from missions, so my motivation to do anything productive is zero. My to-do list has been only half-tackled every day, and it kind of freaks me out that soon I will be a student again. Over the summer i got a lot of insight as to what my role as a student is, but I do not think this is the right time to share it. I do know that it is Wednesday, which is a few days before Friday, which means that Sunday is not too far away, which means that Monday is ALMOST HERE.
*breathes*
One day at a time....one day at a time.
I still can't sleep.
Here is something that has been occupying my time...brilliant.
*It’s well past midnight
And I’m awake with questions that won’t
Wait for daylight
Separating fact from my imaginary fiction
On this shelf of my conviction
I need to find a place
Where You and I come face to face
Thomas needed
Proof that You had really risen
Undefeated
When he placed his fingers
Where the nails once broke Your skin
Did his faith finally begin?
I’ve lied if I’ve denied
The common ground I’ve shared with him
And I, I really want to know You
I want to make each day
A different way that I can show You how
I really want to love You
Be patient with my doubt
I’m just tryin’ to figure out Your will
And I really want to know You still.*
~Nichole Nordeman
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
We're Back!!
Back from missions, back from Uganda, and it was amazing. There is so much to say about that, but not enough space or willpower. Please ask if you desire to know.
I missed this corner of the Internet that I call my own. It was nice journalling every day, but I realize that I get a kick out of telling people what happened to me. Maybe because I am slightly selfish/self-centered, but I swear I'm much better.
God is awesome, and honestly it makes me laugh how seriously He loves me. It makes me feel special to know that God does have an ultimate plan for my life, and being in Uganda I was able to see His sovereignty at new levels. I found myself having a lot of facepalm moments, where God was saying "that's why I had you go through that". Even reading back on my journal I see situations and problems that were so huge at the time, but its clear in retrospect how faithful God was anyway. Seriously.
But now, I am home. The truth is, I do miss missions a lot. I miss the Ugandans that I met and got to know better (shout-out to Martin), and I miss the people of our team (shout-out to G-ma). I'm in disbelief that missions is officially over (ok, yeah, the mission is never over, but you know what I mean). I miss having a set ministry schedule, and the rigor/ease of meditating day and night on God. Now that I am home I know that there is a ministry for me here. I know that God is with me with every step that I take here. But honestly, sifting through and finding God through my many clothes (and such clean clothes they are), electronics, technology, social engagements, to-do lists, and random happenstances--this has proven to be a much mightier undertaking than expected. But honestly, God is faithful, He really is. I am looking forward to tomorrow. Maybe because I'm enjoying watching Tobias, my 3-year old cousin, dance to "American Boy", my new favorite song. Maybe because as I sit here I am surrounded by my family talking over each other, having 10 conversations at once. Maybe because I know that tomorrow will be extremely slow-paced and chill, the first chill day that i have had in many months. Maybe because I know that it is just another day to live, and I am looking forward to living it. Whatever it is, I am excited.
I will try to post more often.
I missed this corner of the Internet that I call my own. It was nice journalling every day, but I realize that I get a kick out of telling people what happened to me. Maybe because I am slightly selfish/self-centered, but I swear I'm much better.
God is awesome, and honestly it makes me laugh how seriously He loves me. It makes me feel special to know that God does have an ultimate plan for my life, and being in Uganda I was able to see His sovereignty at new levels. I found myself having a lot of facepalm moments, where God was saying "that's why I had you go through that". Even reading back on my journal I see situations and problems that were so huge at the time, but its clear in retrospect how faithful God was anyway. Seriously.
But now, I am home. The truth is, I do miss missions a lot. I miss the Ugandans that I met and got to know better (shout-out to Martin), and I miss the people of our team (shout-out to G-ma). I'm in disbelief that missions is officially over (ok, yeah, the mission is never over, but you know what I mean). I miss having a set ministry schedule, and the rigor/ease of meditating day and night on God. Now that I am home I know that there is a ministry for me here. I know that God is with me with every step that I take here. But honestly, sifting through and finding God through my many clothes (and such clean clothes they are), electronics, technology, social engagements, to-do lists, and random happenstances--this has proven to be a much mightier undertaking than expected. But honestly, God is faithful, He really is. I am looking forward to tomorrow. Maybe because I'm enjoying watching Tobias, my 3-year old cousin, dance to "American Boy", my new favorite song. Maybe because as I sit here I am surrounded by my family talking over each other, having 10 conversations at once. Maybe because I know that tomorrow will be extremely slow-paced and chill, the first chill day that i have had in many months. Maybe because I know that it is just another day to live, and I am looking forward to living it. Whatever it is, I am excited.
I will try to post more often.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
This is the last time
In a long time that I will post. We are leaving for Philly on Saturday, and then for Uganda on the 30th of this month. Please keep our team in your prayers, because it is going to be a spiritual battle. On top of that, Uganda is definitely not one of the safest places to be at this time, but as a wise pastor once said, "the safest place that you will ever be is in the will of God". Being in training for the past month I have been overwhelmed by how much God has been working with our team, and how his glory has shown even through our human shortcomings. God has handpicked us for this missions trip to Uganda, but I know that it is not a case of us being super Christians because our geography is going to be so different from what we are used to. God has a calling for all of us, and I truly believe that if we listen to Him every once in a while and we stop giving Him our agenda, we will find that God puts us in exactly the place that he wants us to be, no matter how hard it may be. We have been crucified with Christ, you all, and it is no longer us who lives, but Christ lives in us.
I firmly believe that no matter what the outcome of this trip is, God will get the glory out of it. I have so many quotes and scriptures that have taken me through the hardships of training over the past few weeks, but I think the lyric that has really hit home for me is one that my sister repeated to me when I was feeling particularly low. From reading this, and from the blessings that I have received in abundant proportions, I know its still a little scary, and I know that I cannot do this by myself, but I do know that God is there, and he has myself and our whole team in his arms. Glory be to God.
*To love the Lord our God
Is the heartbeat of our mission
The stream from which our service overflows
Across the street
Or around the world
The mission's still the same
Proclaim and live the truth in Jesus' name.*
~Steve Green
I firmly believe that no matter what the outcome of this trip is, God will get the glory out of it. I have so many quotes and scriptures that have taken me through the hardships of training over the past few weeks, but I think the lyric that has really hit home for me is one that my sister repeated to me when I was feeling particularly low. From reading this, and from the blessings that I have received in abundant proportions, I know its still a little scary, and I know that I cannot do this by myself, but I do know that God is there, and he has myself and our whole team in his arms. Glory be to God.
*To love the Lord our God
Is the heartbeat of our mission
The stream from which our service overflows
Across the street
Or around the world
The mission's still the same
Proclaim and live the truth in Jesus' name.*
~Steve Green
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Because the Sun Never Sets
I
CAN'T
SEE.
Right now I am typing with oh-so-attractive cardboard shades that they give you at the eye doctor. This is because my pupils are roughly the size of beach balls, and they will be this size for at least another three hours. On a side note I wonder, why is it that we always say "eye doctor" and not optometrist, or the other word that I can't remember? Seriously, no one ever says that. It's like we are all 5 or something. But I digress. Well, considering that I broke my glasses beyond repair about a month ago, I decided it was time to do something about that. It's not like I was upset about going to the doctor, though....going there is usually like Christmas, except there was no food or pine tree involved, and it only happens every two years. So maybe it's like the Olympics, then. Whatever.
I don't know what was wrong with me today. Usually I get goosebumps over the excitement of people sticking things in my eyes, but today I was sooooo OFF. The nurse-lady person was getting a little fed up with me because the part where they blow a puff of air into my eye had to be done about five times. My eyes had a mind of their own....for some reason they did not want to have a sudden rush of air thrust in their direction. I mean, who could blame them? Well after that fiasco I make my way to the other room (btw, there are a lot of rooms in a eye doctor's office, let me tell you) and the doctor is sitting there, ready to ask me the "1? or 2?" question? If you don't know what I'm talking about, you sit in a high chair and the doctor fits a ginormous black thing to your face....it has around 200 lenses on it and it is magic. I swear it is. All the doctor does is ask which looks better between 1 or 2, 3 or 4, 5 or 6, and then presto, you have a formula for the perfect glasses. Then you step down, go to the front, choose your frames, wham bam, see you next week.
Or so I thought.
I was sitting in the doctor's chair for longer than usual, I noticed. At first I thought it was punishment for giving the nurse-lady person a hard time, which was understandable, served her right, no regrets. But I found in just a little while that it was actually because I have cataracts. Yup, that's right. And since I am prone to divulging all of my medical issues on this blog (anemia, anyone?), I figured I should tell you all. apparently I have had them since i was born. Since they have been subtly there my whole life the doctor said it probably would not get much worse, so no Ray Charles incident here. Although I wouldn't mind being mad good at the piano....dang it.
OK, that was alright, I really did not care that much about the fact that my lenses are a little cloudy. The thing that ticked me off the is the best part of the appointment, the most important part, the result of which would be what I have to live with for at least another year--the procedure of actually choosing frames was RUSHED. RUSHED, I tell you. Why, you ask? Because the doctor decided to drown my already stubborn eyes with stinging dilating solution. I think that was my actual punishment, because he did it THREE times. I think the last time was out of mean spirits, jerk. Once he did that I only had around 5 minutes to choose a frame because if I did not make it back to the room in time my eyes would have probably either spontaneously combusted or turned into two pumpkins. Because of this I randomly chose two frames that did not look completely hideous, paid the nurse-lady person (who was rushing me the whole time), went back and stared at more bright lights, and finally walked out with the aforementioned sexy cardboard shades.
All in all, not a horrible trip. Now I am just waiting for my pupils to become a little bit smaller than two grapefruits. Until then I will be working on the whole piano prodigy thing. I'll let you know how that goes.
Ray Charles ain't got nothing on me.
~~
CAN'T
SEE.
Right now I am typing with oh-so-attractive cardboard shades that they give you at the eye doctor. This is because my pupils are roughly the size of beach balls, and they will be this size for at least another three hours. On a side note I wonder, why is it that we always say "eye doctor" and not optometrist, or the other word that I can't remember? Seriously, no one ever says that. It's like we are all 5 or something. But I digress. Well, considering that I broke my glasses beyond repair about a month ago, I decided it was time to do something about that. It's not like I was upset about going to the doctor, though....going there is usually like Christmas, except there was no food or pine tree involved, and it only happens every two years. So maybe it's like the Olympics, then. Whatever.
I don't know what was wrong with me today. Usually I get goosebumps over the excitement of people sticking things in my eyes, but today I was sooooo OFF. The nurse-lady person was getting a little fed up with me because the part where they blow a puff of air into my eye had to be done about five times. My eyes had a mind of their own....for some reason they did not want to have a sudden rush of air thrust in their direction. I mean, who could blame them? Well after that fiasco I make my way to the other room (btw, there are a lot of rooms in a eye doctor's office, let me tell you) and the doctor is sitting there, ready to ask me the "1? or 2?" question? If you don't know what I'm talking about, you sit in a high chair and the doctor fits a ginormous black thing to your face....it has around 200 lenses on it and it is magic. I swear it is. All the doctor does is ask which looks better between 1 or 2, 3 or 4, 5 or 6, and then presto, you have a formula for the perfect glasses. Then you step down, go to the front, choose your frames, wham bam, see you next week.
Or so I thought.
I was sitting in the doctor's chair for longer than usual, I noticed. At first I thought it was punishment for giving the nurse-lady person a hard time, which was understandable, served her right, no regrets. But I found in just a little while that it was actually because I have cataracts. Yup, that's right. And since I am prone to divulging all of my medical issues on this blog (anemia, anyone?), I figured I should tell you all. apparently I have had them since i was born. Since they have been subtly there my whole life the doctor said it probably would not get much worse, so no Ray Charles incident here. Although I wouldn't mind being mad good at the piano....dang it.
OK, that was alright, I really did not care that much about the fact that my lenses are a little cloudy. The thing that ticked me off the is the best part of the appointment, the most important part, the result of which would be what I have to live with for at least another year--the procedure of actually choosing frames was RUSHED. RUSHED, I tell you. Why, you ask? Because the doctor decided to drown my already stubborn eyes with stinging dilating solution. I think that was my actual punishment, because he did it THREE times. I think the last time was out of mean spirits, jerk. Once he did that I only had around 5 minutes to choose a frame because if I did not make it back to the room in time my eyes would have probably either spontaneously combusted or turned into two pumpkins. Because of this I randomly chose two frames that did not look completely hideous, paid the nurse-lady person (who was rushing me the whole time), went back and stared at more bright lights, and finally walked out with the aforementioned sexy cardboard shades.
All in all, not a horrible trip. Now I am just waiting for my pupils to become a little bit smaller than two grapefruits. Until then I will be working on the whole piano prodigy thing. I'll let you know how that goes.
Ray Charles ain't got nothing on me.
~~
Monday, May 05, 2008
New Summer, New Color
So I got really tired of the bubbles in the background theme, so I decided to change it. Kim told me that if I changed the background she would probably stop reading this blog, and I would go down as the girl who was too insecure to keep one freaking theme (ok the last part was a little exaggerated, but that's what I heard). Well if my blog doth offend you, I am truly sorry (but not sorry enough to change it back, foo on you).
It is summer time, and I feel rushed. I have 2 1/2 weeks until intensive training starts, and I sort of feel like the walls are closing in on me. What happened? Wasn't it just yesterday that we were sending the Kenya team off? Wasn't it just yesterday that I was thinking and praying (but not really) about going, but not really thinking that I was going? Wasn't it just yesterday when I was sitting in the student center and I felt "The Call" while I was watching a Fall Out Boy video? Did we NOT just have our first training session yesterday? Huh? What?
Passport Immunizations new glasses VBS skits Dentist Family time finish Harry Potter save some money will I raise enough money? watch some movies The Sound of Music grades sucked this semester repair bike tire what should I pack? hope everything stays together at my house for a summer need to get FIT oh yeah.....this isn't about me is it oh crap I need to read my bible and pray but is God mad at me of course he's not but how much time is too much time crap crap crap crap God can hear me thinking.....GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
So yeah....please pray for me. On the flip side, I am SOOOOOOO happy to be at home! I love my family so much. Like seriously. I have already read nursery rhymes with Tobias, had a blinking contest with Elissa, lost the Phase 10 game for Auntie Marcia, and watched the Scrubs episode that makes me cry.
So little time...but I will cherish every minute of it.
*Simple as a phone call just to make it known that you're gonna
be a little late
Pure as a kiss on a cheek in a word that everything will be okay
Call in the morning from my little sister singing to me
Happy Birthday
In the quest for fortune and fame
Don't forget about the simple things...*
~India.Arie
It is summer time, and I feel rushed. I have 2 1/2 weeks until intensive training starts, and I sort of feel like the walls are closing in on me. What happened? Wasn't it just yesterday that we were sending the Kenya team off? Wasn't it just yesterday that I was thinking and praying (but not really) about going, but not really thinking that I was going? Wasn't it just yesterday when I was sitting in the student center and I felt "The Call" while I was watching a Fall Out Boy video? Did we NOT just have our first training session yesterday? Huh? What?
Passport Immunizations new glasses VBS skits Dentist Family time finish Harry Potter save some money will I raise enough money? watch some movies The Sound of Music grades sucked this semester repair bike tire what should I pack? hope everything stays together at my house for a summer need to get FIT oh yeah.....this isn't about me is it oh crap I need to read my bible and pray but is God mad at me of course he's not but how much time is too much time crap crap crap crap God can hear me thinking.....GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
So yeah....please pray for me. On the flip side, I am SOOOOOOO happy to be at home! I love my family so much. Like seriously. I have already read nursery rhymes with Tobias, had a blinking contest with Elissa, lost the Phase 10 game for Auntie Marcia, and watched the Scrubs episode that makes me cry.
So little time...but I will cherish every minute of it.
*Simple as a phone call just to make it known that you're gonna
be a little late
Pure as a kiss on a cheek in a word that everything will be okay
Call in the morning from my little sister singing to me
Happy Birthday
In the quest for fortune and fame
Don't forget about the simple things...*
~India.Arie
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