August 19, 1999
...the age when ska was a part of my soul...
"It helps to know that somewhere you're feeling just the same. And don't take even a moment for granted. Don't lose heart when the world crashes down." - Supertones
One of the greatest blessings the Lord God can give me is a new friend. With each new friend I receive, I become a greater person. With each new love I harness, each new lesson I achieve, and each new vision I melt into, I take one step closer to know that complicated stranger I call myself...completely.
Is it possible? All I know is that I will never stop growing and I am thankful for that. To know that my journey will continue overwhelms me and to know that I will never see the world through these eyes and from this perspective ever again helps me appreciate what I have and what I feel at any given moment.
Lord, help me to no longer live in the past or in the future. Why should I long for a time and place I cannot grasp? I can take this moment and mold it into what I have the power to make of it - which leaves the possibilities limitless.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
My Testimony
July 12, 2002
I've been alive for nearly 22 years and it's taken me that long to finally believe in something wholeheartedly. Yes, I was raised a Christian, but that is not fully the reason why I remain a Christian. Just like how I never wanted to be a teacher because both my parents were teachers. I didn't want to be a Christian just because my parents were.
Well, it doesn't matter how many religious or spiritual experiences I've had or how many facts people show me that prove Christianity is true. Memories can be deceiving and facts on paper can be as well. What really keeps me following Jesus is that it's the only thing that makes any sense in my life.
Jesus' teachings are totally opposite of what society believes, so that's why I trust Him. None of His commandments are questionable, non of His teachings are weird or religion-based. And, if I do question something He said, I wrestle with it for a while and then realize He was completely right.
A lot of times people say all religions are the same because they all tell people to be good. But, that's where Christianity is different. Jesus teaches us that no one can be "good" on our own. No one can do enough good work to meet God's standards. That's why we need Jesus to save us from our sin.
Isaiah put it well - "Do and do, do and do, rule on rule, rule on rule, a little here, a little there - so that they will go and fall backward, be injured and snared and captured." (Isaiah 28:13)
Just following rules and being religious and "good" isn't enough. The important thing that will give us strength and life is our relationship with Jesus. It's that relationship that transforms us and makes us better people.
I've been alive for nearly 22 years and it's taken me that long to finally believe in something wholeheartedly. Yes, I was raised a Christian, but that is not fully the reason why I remain a Christian. Just like how I never wanted to be a teacher because both my parents were teachers. I didn't want to be a Christian just because my parents were.
Well, it doesn't matter how many religious or spiritual experiences I've had or how many facts people show me that prove Christianity is true. Memories can be deceiving and facts on paper can be as well. What really keeps me following Jesus is that it's the only thing that makes any sense in my life.
Jesus' teachings are totally opposite of what society believes, so that's why I trust Him. None of His commandments are questionable, non of His teachings are weird or religion-based. And, if I do question something He said, I wrestle with it for a while and then realize He was completely right.
A lot of times people say all religions are the same because they all tell people to be good. But, that's where Christianity is different. Jesus teaches us that no one can be "good" on our own. No one can do enough good work to meet God's standards. That's why we need Jesus to save us from our sin.
Isaiah put it well - "Do and do, do and do, rule on rule, rule on rule, a little here, a little there - so that they will go and fall backward, be injured and snared and captured." (Isaiah 28:13)
Just following rules and being religious and "good" isn't enough. The important thing that will give us strength and life is our relationship with Jesus. It's that relationship that transforms us and makes us better people.
Thanksgiving
August 15, 2002
Near Abilene Texas
12:00 a.m.
I am so thankful. I'm thankful I have a roof over my head, a wonderful family, and such great opportunity in my life. However, it's amazing how I still expect more.
Don't ask me why, but we found ourselves in the middle of Texas today heading toward a wedding in Sunnyvale. The "we" consisted of my Kansas-bred, photographic father and my pop-star lovin', hip huggin' sister.
Today we started at 7:00 a.m. and we just completed 750 miles in 18 hours. As we rolled out of our desert home of Phoenix, looking forward to 1,000 miles of Joshua trees and semi trucks, we saw a plane about to land at Sky Harbor Airport. "It sure would be nice to be taking a plane Dallas," I said insensitively. "We'd be there in 2 hours."
Well, of course my comment was uncalled for. First, because it would take more like 3 hours to fly to Dallas. Second, because I know full well that my family could not afford to spend $1500 for time and comfort.
A bit taken back, my father defended the comment by saying, "Well, yes, but this way we get to see beautiful scenery and spend time in this wonderful car." Those weren't his exact words, but you get the point.
So onward we forged across the rugged state of Arizona, the land of enchantment (also called New Mexico), and on into Texas. It was about 8:30 p.m. when we rolled into Odyssey, Texas (that may not be the exact name, but it sounds a lot like it). Stomachs rumbling and bodies restless, we pulled into a Texaco for gas and directions. In response to my dad's question of directions, the man directed us to Rosita's where we would find the Mexican food our stomachs craved.
As we drove down the street searching for Rosita's, we came upon Margarita's with a full parking lot. Our eyes caressed the majesty of this Mexican food palace, but it was Rosita's that was recommended, so Rosita's is what we wanted, so we moved on. After driving a few more blocks, we were beginning to lose hope.
And then we saw it. Peaking shyly behind a building was a restaurant that resembled more a Mexican trailer than a Mexican palace. I wanted to beg my dad to drive back to the oasis we had driven past, but I knew he would have nothing of it. He was committed to Rosita's. So, we pulled in the parking lot where one other car rested. Well, this is it, I hope there aren't any rats. (I'm exaggerating a bit.)
Inside was an array of tables in a plain room with a soap opera on in the corner - Spanish speaking, of course. We found a table, sat down, and awaited a server. Just then, our lifesaver wearing a pleasant smile came out with our menus. I glanced at the entrees and realized I didn't know half the words. I picked the taco platter and a cold coca-cola.
It wasn't the food that changed me. It wasn't the good conversation or the kick of the caffeine. It was after the meal was over and I had excused myself to use the restroom. When I returned to the dining room I saw that my family had already exited and was waiting for me outside.
However, I wasn't alone in the dining room because there stood our life saving server standing by our emptied plates and left over tortilla. What I saw stuck me so much that I felt frozen in my tracks and like my heart was melting at the same time. He had picked up the tip my dad had left, probably a measly 2 or 3 dollars. He put it in his pocket, took his crucifix in his hands, and raised it to his lips. After placing a gentle kiss on the sacred symbol, he made a cross with his hand - forehead, chest, shoulder, shoulder.
It took me a few seconds to register his actions, but then it hit me. He was thanking God for that measly tip. When I receive pay checks of over $100, I don't sit down and thank God. But he obviously thanked God whole-heartedly for every cent that entered his pockets. Here I am complaining that we have to drive across the southwest in a 2 year old Toyota when he is pouring out thanksgiving over a $2.00 tip.
Humbled, I walked to the table, grabbed the left over tortilla, smiled, and left.
Thank you, God, for humbling my selfish heart.
Near Abilene Texas
12:00 a.m.
I am so thankful. I'm thankful I have a roof over my head, a wonderful family, and such great opportunity in my life. However, it's amazing how I still expect more.
Don't ask me why, but we found ourselves in the middle of Texas today heading toward a wedding in Sunnyvale. The "we" consisted of my Kansas-bred, photographic father and my pop-star lovin', hip huggin' sister.
Today we started at 7:00 a.m. and we just completed 750 miles in 18 hours. As we rolled out of our desert home of Phoenix, looking forward to 1,000 miles of Joshua trees and semi trucks, we saw a plane about to land at Sky Harbor Airport. "It sure would be nice to be taking a plane Dallas," I said insensitively. "We'd be there in 2 hours."
Well, of course my comment was uncalled for. First, because it would take more like 3 hours to fly to Dallas. Second, because I know full well that my family could not afford to spend $1500 for time and comfort.
A bit taken back, my father defended the comment by saying, "Well, yes, but this way we get to see beautiful scenery and spend time in this wonderful car." Those weren't his exact words, but you get the point.
So onward we forged across the rugged state of Arizona, the land of enchantment (also called New Mexico), and on into Texas. It was about 8:30 p.m. when we rolled into Odyssey, Texas (that may not be the exact name, but it sounds a lot like it). Stomachs rumbling and bodies restless, we pulled into a Texaco for gas and directions. In response to my dad's question of directions, the man directed us to Rosita's where we would find the Mexican food our stomachs craved.
As we drove down the street searching for Rosita's, we came upon Margarita's with a full parking lot. Our eyes caressed the majesty of this Mexican food palace, but it was Rosita's that was recommended, so Rosita's is what we wanted, so we moved on. After driving a few more blocks, we were beginning to lose hope.
And then we saw it. Peaking shyly behind a building was a restaurant that resembled more a Mexican trailer than a Mexican palace. I wanted to beg my dad to drive back to the oasis we had driven past, but I knew he would have nothing of it. He was committed to Rosita's. So, we pulled in the parking lot where one other car rested. Well, this is it, I hope there aren't any rats. (I'm exaggerating a bit.)
Inside was an array of tables in a plain room with a soap opera on in the corner - Spanish speaking, of course. We found a table, sat down, and awaited a server. Just then, our lifesaver wearing a pleasant smile came out with our menus. I glanced at the entrees and realized I didn't know half the words. I picked the taco platter and a cold coca-cola.
It wasn't the food that changed me. It wasn't the good conversation or the kick of the caffeine. It was after the meal was over and I had excused myself to use the restroom. When I returned to the dining room I saw that my family had already exited and was waiting for me outside.
However, I wasn't alone in the dining room because there stood our life saving server standing by our emptied plates and left over tortilla. What I saw stuck me so much that I felt frozen in my tracks and like my heart was melting at the same time. He had picked up the tip my dad had left, probably a measly 2 or 3 dollars. He put it in his pocket, took his crucifix in his hands, and raised it to his lips. After placing a gentle kiss on the sacred symbol, he made a cross with his hand - forehead, chest, shoulder, shoulder.
It took me a few seconds to register his actions, but then it hit me. He was thanking God for that measly tip. When I receive pay checks of over $100, I don't sit down and thank God. But he obviously thanked God whole-heartedly for every cent that entered his pockets. Here I am complaining that we have to drive across the southwest in a 2 year old Toyota when he is pouring out thanksgiving over a $2.00 tip.
Humbled, I walked to the table, grabbed the left over tortilla, smiled, and left.
Thank you, God, for humbling my selfish heart.
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