yearning to adjust accordingly

Hello, 2009

2009-01-03T14:54:00.000-08:00

Believe it or not, its time for my yearly reflection. I have no clue how to start this thing. So much in and around me has changed, so many things that I have not written about. Too many to cover. I could write a book about each event of the last year. Instead, I will settle with a list of the highlights:

- Spring 2008: I spent wonderful quality time with my Nana and Papa while my Papa's health was declining. We played games, we talked, I smuggled cafe vanilla frappucinos into the hospital (Papa declared that they must serve the drink in heaven!), we prayed together.

- May 3rd, 2008: I saw my Papa alive for the last time. When I walked into the hospital room, he exclaimed, "Oh! An angel has come to visit me!" Before my parents and I left, he held my hand and repeated the words "Thank you" over and over again. I will always hold that day in my heart.

- May 4th, 2008: I got the dreaded phone call, and I wept. I learned that my Papa was no longer in pain - physically, mentally, and spiritually.

- May 5th, 2008: I traded my future and plans for God's by giving my two weeks notice to my boss. It was the day that I officially decided to give up engineering, the day I acknowledged that there is something better out there for my life. What a glorious day that was.

- May 24th, 2008: After a 10-minute interview, I was hired as a barista at Zephyr in Pasadena. I always wanted to work at a coffee shop. This was my chance.

- June 7th, 2008: I graduated from the 21-month Servant Partner's Internship. That stage of my life was done, and it was time to walk into the unknown.

- Summer 2008: I had a blast working at the coffee shop, living a structureless life, sailing with my parents, reading the books that I wanted to read (no more assigned reading for me!), sleeping in, and falling in love with Jesus all over again.

- July 2008: God blessed me financially through a settlement from a car accident 8 months prior, and from a sweet 2-week house sitting job.

- July 31st - August 10th, 2008: I traveled to Boston, Chicago, and Seattle, to visit friends, meet new ones, and witness a beautiful wedding.

- August, 2008: I received a job offer for a well-paid, part-time, no-stress job. In February of '08, I wrote in my journal that I felt God telling me I would not have to search for my next job. It would fall in my lap. This job offer was a confirmation of that sense. In March of '08, I asked for a stress-free job where I felt free to be myself. This job was an answer to that prayer.

- October 16, 2008: I released the bitterness and anger I felt over the past year and a half (Dec '06 through April '08). Reading my Goodbye, 2007 post might fill you in some. During my time of prayer and reflection in a rose garden, I was pleading with God that he would help me to see clearly and understand why I went through so much pain and frustration. "What was it all for? What did I learn from all of that???" And then He gently told me that everything was okay. He was orchestrating my life in a beautiful way, and I didn't have to understand it. It was simply a thorny part of my life - painful, but necessary for the survival and beauty of the rose.

- Fall, 2008: I noticed a change in myself. Still young, but growing up.

- December 27th - December 30th, 2008: I went on the best road trip of my life. I went with friends Corissa, Kevin, and Scott on a thousand-mile trip to Portland, Oregon, where we witnessed the beautiful marriage of our friends Daniel and Casey. Our lovely friend Courtney joined us for the trip back to LA.

I believe this road trip embodies the journey of my life in this past year. It was unexpectedly full of blessings, joy, love, and crazy amounts of fun, just like this unexpected year. In the same way that we left, not quite knowing what we would find, and encountering blessing after blessing, I left my job and decided to embark on a new and unknown journey, finding blessings of freedom and joy around every corner. Of course, there were tough times too, like when it took almost a full hour for us to replace the windshield wipers in the dark, rain, and cold, or when I spent hours asking God to help me clearly see the purpose of my past. And things were taken from us, like when we realized that someone stole a camera, leatherman, and cds from our car when we were at a pit stop, or when I lost my beloved grandfather.

But all these things were for our good.

And so here I am. Still humble, but now grateful and soaring, curious to see what God will bring in 2009. Curious to see every day.

signs of aging

2008-10-06T15:25:00.000-07:00

My roommates and I were having a conversation about prayer, and I was reminded of my nightly childhood prayer:

Dear God, thank you for this day. I pray that I won't have any nightmares, and that you will help us find a cure for aids and cancer. I love you a WHOLE bunch. Amen.

Oh the prayer of innocence.

It seems that as I have gotten older, a more common prayer that I have heard and can more often relate to goes a little more like this:

Dear God, thank you for another day. Please help me to not have dreams about men(/women), and protect me and my loved ones from aids and cancer. I am trying to love you. Please help me to love you more. Amen.

If only we could be like children again, more afraid of the boogie man than singleness, more aware of the needs of others than our own mortality, and more in love with our God than ourselves.

do you ever feel like you are in the wrong place?

2008-03-01T20:35:00.001-08:00

that is how i feel at this very moment.

there are a couple ways to address this problem:

1) self pity party. i don't suggest this. it doesn't get you anywhere, except more upset.

2) go somewhere else. this could be a good idea, but make sure you first know why you are currently in the wrong place. you don't want to drag the problem with you.

3) pray. i do believe this is the best option, but its tough. you are still in the wrong place and you usually feel like you aren't going anywhere. but the more you pray, the more you trust, and the more you let go, the more you can see Him preparing a great place for you.

Goodbye, 2007

2008-01-04T17:30:00.000-08:00

I know, it's been a while since my last post. Sorry. But here I am, back to write a tribute for 2007.

Busyness is a key to my disappearance, but the real reason for my lack of activity is that these past few months have been tough. While struggling with the mess of my emotions, getting my thoughts together to write anything worth while was out of the question. But like I said, I'm back. I remember writing about the end of 2006 and the entry of 2007, and thought it would be appropriate to do the same for this new year. I hope this tribute to 2007 finds you well.

One year ago, on January 5, 2007, I wrote that I was incredibly excited for the year 2007. I expected it to be amazing. I was ready for my best year. If God had given me a glimpse into 2007, I probably would have never written such things.

All in all, this year was incredibly difficult. It was filled with conflict, most of which was internal. I therefore have nothing to show for it. No battle scar, no miraculous story, no beautiful piece of work that I labored over. To top it off, I am still in the meat of the conflict. And so there is no list of things I've learned, or how I have grown, no clear summary of the realizations I have come to through my thoughts. No epiphanies, no revelations, no enlightening. Nothing to show for my efforts. All I can show you is a girl humbled by her weaknesses. A girl who knows she has a long way to go.

So then, what do I say about 2007? While I didn't like it, it was a very necessary year. During this year, I have realized that I am that person that I don't want to be. At the risk of sounding immature, this year I clearly saw my ability to harm, to hurt, to not help. Doing none of these things intentionally, but instinctively, reactively, ignorantly. This year my weaknesses rang loud and clear, and my strengths seemed to disappear. And these realizations, these discoveries, whatever you want to call them, are necessary so that I may become the person that I want to be, and the person that God wants me to be.

So to 2007, I say goodbye. I will not miss you, but I will hopefully be grateful for you.

And what of 2008? I have hope for this next year, a hope that is more mature than the hope I had for 2007. A hope that is not so deterred by bad days and puffed up by good ones. This is a hope that trusts in God's grace and sovereignty.

Hopeful 2008!

i'm sitting on a couch in a cafe

2007-09-16T15:18:00.000-07:00

and i am reading the international news.

Many of the headlines (too many) start with "so and so killed by such and such;" a plane crash in Thailand, a bomb in Algeria, a bus crash in Mexico, a hurricane in Nicaragua, the continuing struggle in Darfur, the war in Iraq... Death is everywhere, and I sit comfortably on a couch at a cafe, sipping a caramel latte.

Do you think our lives would be different if the tragedies in this world were closer to home? Do you think we would live differently if we had friends that lived in Sudan? What would we do if we had a friend who was dying of a curable disease? What would our lives be like if our family was sick because of the dirty water?

I think our priorities would change. I think we would forget about trying to catch our favorite tv show, trying to keep up with fashion, trying to get all of our errands done and find some time to rest. I think we wouldn't be worried about anything except helping our friend.

A year ago I stayed in Balic Balic, Manilla, in the Philippines. I lived next to a slum by the railroad tracks. I spent time with the men and women that lived there. I ate with them, I went grocery shopping with them, I worshipped God with them. I experienced a typhoon with them, as we saw their tin roofs blow away. They let me come into their world for 3 weeks. They welcomed me in as a friend and as a member of their family. I called my host "Nanay,"
which is Tagalog for mother.

And now their world is being demolished. The railroad company is expanding and renovating, so the slum, the informal housing, the homes that are only feet away from the tracks, have to be demolished. Most of these people have no where to go. The government is offering housing, but it is away from the city and away from the jobs.

This is my family. I don't know them well, and we don't have the same blood, but that doesn't really matter. I was welcomed into their world. My heart fell in love with them. And now as I sit on a couch in a cafe, my family is wondering when they will wake up to someone telling them that they have to leave, telling them that their home will be demolished that very day.

If our neighborhood was scheduled to be demolished, would we live our lives differently? If our family was losing their home, would our priorities be different?

Please join me in praying for those who are losing their homes, for those who are losing family members, and for those who are directly affected by the headlines we read in the news.

Please join me in reconsidering our day to day priorities. Who are our friends? Who is part of our family? Do we have to be related to them? Do we have to have a conversation with them? Do we have to know them before we can be moved to help them? I don't think so.

The distance is quite simply much too far for me to row, it seems farther than ever before...

2007-08-25T16:10:00.000-07:00

I have been listening to a lot of Death Cab for Cutie recently. Not a lot of songs, but a few songs over and over and over again. One song in particular is Death Cab's Transatlanticism. I have to admit that I have recently fallen in love with this song. Deeply in love. And I believe I have fallen so hard because it expresses something that I feel deep within my soul.

My life has been somewhat discombobulated, and this past year (starting around December '06) I've been slowly but surely going through the process of re-combobulating - if there is such a thing. I could probably go into a lot of detail about that, and hopefully will expand on my combobulations in later posts, but for now I'm going to keep it simple.

The point is I've been trying to bring my life together. I've been trying to find a focus point, a backbone, a rhythm, a sort of sanity or consistency between the roles of my life. My life is not complicated compared to most, but it felt and still feels broken, incomplete and at times contradicting. I believe these diagnoses are typical and true for most people, but I have finally gotten to a point where I long to be completed, centered, and healed - a process which could very well take the rest of my life and never finish. Fortunately, I knew exactly where to begin the process: Jesus.

The only way to be complete is to be completed, and I have no doubt that the only way to be completed is through Jesus. So what does that mean for me? I have been a "Christian" most of my life, and I have dedicated my life to following Jesus for almost 10 years now, but I still feel incomplete. Realizing the tension of not yet being completed by my God that completes, it became clear to me that I had to dig deeper. And this is where Death Cab for Cutie comes in.

While listening to Transatlanticism, I became aware of the way I resonated with the tones of separation and distance. I completely understood the idea of an ocean spilling across the earth, and separating me from what I am longing for. And then came the chorus of "I need you so much closer, I need you so much closer, I need you so much closer..." I closed my eyes as I listened to this chorus, and this what I saw:

I saw a hand being offered to me.
I took it, and was guided into a world.
It was the exact same world that we live in.
I saw the courtyard of my apartment complex.
I saw my neighbors.
I saw the beauty of life,
and I saw the pain.

But this world was different.
It was complete.
It was more real, more solid, more beautiful.
The colors were piercingly radiant.
Pain was still there, but it didn't matter.
The pain had purpose, and there was a clear end.
Contentment could be felt simply by breathing.
And everyone's eyes shined with hope.

This is what I saw when thinking to myself, "I need you so much closer." What I saw was my life with God present. I saw His kingdom reigning in my world. I saw the life for which I am longing.

This is a hard picture to translate to reality, because I don't think I am actually going to see the world in different colors, but I finally understand what the end result of my re-combobulation will feel like. It will transform my perception of the world. And the only way that will happen is if I step into God's kingdom.

And now back to the title of this blog. I have no clue how to step in, and this kingdom seems very very far away, even farther than before. But I think that is a good thing. At least I'm on the right planet, and I finally understand that I need to start rowing. The realization that I have to start rowing is what makes this vision feel so far from reality. My whole life I've been happy on my little island, but now I clearly see where I need to be, and that place is somewhere else entirely.

Seeing as this post is incredibly long and i've been sitting on this couch at this coffee shop for a very long time, I'll pause here, but expect more. If you have any thoughts or you want me to go more in depth on something specific, please post a comment!

i am moving out of my closet.

2007-08-12T21:16:00.000-07:00

I have very good news for you: I have finally purchased a laptop.

You might be asking yourself, "Why is she saying this is good news for me?"

Well never fear, Beth is here, and she isn't in her closet anymore. For the last 10 months, my computer has been in the washer/dryer closet. We don't own a washer or dryer, and my desk just happened to fit perfectly in the empty space. It seemed like a great idea at first (it was my brilliant idea), but alas, it was a HORRIBLE idea. Sitting in that closet is worse than sitting in a cubicle.

To top it off, my desk top was the slowest desktop on earth. Want to see how many emails you have? Well you better have several minutes to open the window. Want to run two applications at once? Don't hold your breath. Needless to say, I didn't like using my computer at home after using a speedy computer in a comfortable cubicle for 8 hours at work.

Still don't get why this is good news for you?

Its really simple.

No slow computer+no closet cubicle+true high-speed internet+the comfort of writing my blogs anywhere I want=more blogs.

Enjoy! :)

If I could do anything in the world...

2007-08-01T21:59:00.000-07:00

I would fix it.

I would ensure that everyone in the world had physical and spiritual water.

I would play the guitar and the saxophone every day.

I would create a transitional housing program, offering job training, networking, counseling, and Jesus.

I would swing dance and salsa every week.

I would help create higher efficiency, integrity and integration within and between nonprofit organizations (especially within water resource organizations).

I would live on a boat for at least a summer.

I would live in Africa.

I would go on a retreat by myself for a week.

If I could do anything, I would be involved in a movement where living simply, sharing resources, and loving even strangers would be “cool.” Not the celebrity “cool,” but the God-fearing, Jesus-loving, fall-on-your-knees-and-give-with-humility-because-you-
don’t-need-anything-but-the-Father’s-shalom, grace-and-love kind of “cool.”

I would open and run a coffee shop.

I would finally fix my skateboard...

I would surf every morning.

I would travel to all the nations, meet all the tribes, experience all the cultures, and learn all the languages (or at least Spanish, French, and German).

What would you do?

a july post.

2007-07-30T20:17:00.000-07:00

the only one.

Sorry for the absence this month. Just wanted to let you know that I am still alive and will be posting later this week.

Hang in there and have a great Tuesday!

peace,
b :)

Blue Planet Run

2007-06-21T21:03:00.000-07:00

18 days ago, twenty people from all over the globe started a very long run...15,200 miles around the world.

The Blue Planet Run is a run with a message: "we can and must begin today to alleviate the catastrophic burden placed on over a billion people who, every day, must drink unsafe local water, or travel long distances on foot to search for safe water for themselves and their families."

The Blue Planet Run Foundation has funded 11 NGOs, supporting them as they implement water projects all over the world. From what I know of it, I like this foundation. (They help bring water to people who need it - how could I not like them?)

This run around the world is very intriguing to me. Its seems like a very long, hard, and inefficient way to raise awareness and money, but I could be wrong. In any case, this is cool.

Check out the website and see when they will be running through your town.

Just as a heads-up, here is a summary of the rest of their running schedule:

Belarus: now through June 25th,
Russia: June 26-July 19,
Mongolia: July 20-23,
China: July 25-28,
Japan: July 28-1,
USA: August 1 - 26,
--California: August 1- 6
----Los Angeles is August 5th, (anyone want to spectate with me?)
Canada: August 26-28
USA: August 28 - September 4

Her Name is Anger

2007-06-13T18:54:00.000-07:00

She stops.

She won't go another step.

She throws herself backward onto the floor.

Her face becomes red with anger,
her eyes watery with fierce passion.

She begins to scream.

She kicks the floor with her heals,
feeling the impact's vibration
in her toes, her shins, her knees, her spine.

Gripping her hands tighter,
her nails dig into her palms.
She beats the floor with the edge of her fists.

Kicking,
punching,
writhing on the floor,
she dreams of shaking the world.
She dreams of waking it up,
opening its eyes,
making it see.
See its flaws,
its imperfections,
its injustice.

Screaming,
crying,
losing her voice,
she wishes that the world would listen.
She wishes it had ears
to hear
the pain,
the sorrow,
the suffering.

She longs for wings to fly away.
If only pumping her legs and flailing her arms
would cause the wings in her soul to burst through her skin.

Then she could fly away.

waiting = not doing anything.

2007-06-04T21:40:00.001-07:00

I was minding my own business one day when John Mayer's "Waiting on the World to Change" came on the radio.

I know this song has been out for a while, but I finally just recently listened to the words:

me and all my friends
we're all misunderstood
they say we stand for nothing and
there's no way we ever could

now we see everything that's going wrong
with the world and those who lead it
we just feel like we don't have the means
to rise above and beat it

so we keep waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change

it's hard to beat the system
when we're standing at a distance
so we keep waiting
waiting on the world to change

now if we had the power
to bring our neighbors home from war
they would have never missed a Christmas
no more ribbons on their door
and when you trust your television
what you get is what you got
cause when they own the information, oh
they can bend it all they want

that's why we're waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change

it's not that we don't care,
we just know that the fight ain't fair
so we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
and we're still waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change

one day our generation
is gonna rule the population
so we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change

I have a lot I could say about these lyrics and the video, but I'm going to keep it short.

Yes, this world has some big problems.
Yes, most of us do not have the ability or means to tackle many of the problems.
Yes, waiting is a HORRIBLE idea.
Yes, I like grafiti art (see video), but...
No. No no no no no. Posting the word "THINK" on a billboard is not going to cause someone to stop and think about how they can change the world.
Even if they stopped to "think", they wouldn't think about how they should wait for the world to change. They would think about what they could do to change the world.

I'm commenting on this song because I'm afraid that John Mayer's words actually sound like a good idea to many people who hear it. Truth be told, the first time I heard it I was glad to hear a song that focuses on the fact that the world needs to change. It isn't your typical, "I love her," "I hate life," "he's a slime-ball" song. Mayer's song feels fresh, different, and to many it might even sound meaningful. But there is a huge problem with his message.

If we all wait, nothing will change. At least nothing will change for the better. Maybe we can't fly to the middle east and end the war, the suicide bombings, the hunger, the murder, the death. But we can help our neighbors, we can mentor children, we can get involved in communities, we can support non-profits that are feeding the hungry, giving medical care to the sick, and helping people get on their feet. We can be kind to the environment. We can pray.

You don't have to be a doctor, politician, lawyer, movie star, or millionaire to change the world. You just have to stop waiting for a better doctor, politicain, lawyer... and start doing something.

anything. help an old lady walk across the street if you can't think of anything else.

Hidden in Pasadena

2007-05-29T13:00:00.000-07:00

When most people think of Pasadena, they think of Old Town, Paseo Colorado, parks, trees, coffee shops, bars, restaurants, stores, the Rose Parade... good old, fun, cute, south-of-the-210-freeway Pasadena.

Most people wouldn't even know that in the past month, there have been 4 gang-on-gang shootings. Most people wouldn't know that a teenage boy died in one of those shootings. Most people wouldn't know that I often times fall asleep to the sound of a helicopter flying around our blocks, patrolling the area or responding to a call.

Why do people not know this part of Pasadena, the part north of the 210 freeway, the part that we lovingly call North-West Pasadena? Because the city is really good at keeping secrets. Like any normal booming city, they want to continue booming, they want people to continue to move in. Thus they keep their secret hidden. It's working too. I know of several people that are moving here this summer. I was talking to one of them, telling him where the more affordable apartments were, and warning him that these places were more run down and in more dangerous areas. He literally laughed and said, "What?! Dangerous?! In cute little Pasadena?"

Not only does Pasadena keep people from hearing about the crime and violence, the city also keeps them from seeing it with the magic of one-way streets. These one-way streets are incredibly inconvenient, so along with everyone else, I never use them. As it turns out, these one-way roads are home to some of the most run-down residential areas in north-west Pasadena. No one drives through there, because its too much of a maze, and so no one sees it. In fact there is about a 3 by 5 block area that only residents and their visitors ever drive through.

And so they remain hidden. Fortunately for me, Pasadena can't completely hide their wound. Contrary to most, my housemates and I moved here because of Pasadena's little secret. And I love it here. I love my neighbors, I love my little run-down home (most of the time), I love that it never gets boring, and I hate that the lives of the people I have grown to love have been buried by secrets.

Spiderman 3

2007-05-17T12:57:00.000-07:00

Don't see it.

It could have been great. The themes of love, integrity, choice, adventure, could have been gripping. But they weren't. So don't see it.

The only reason why I stayed awake was because of the special effects. If I had been watching that movie on tv, I would have either been distracted with the dishes or fallen asleep. So don't rent it either.

What a waste of potential. and money.

The best part of seeing that movie was traveling with four of my wonderful friends around LA to 5 different theaters, trying to find a showing that wasn't sold out. Our little adventure around town would have made a better movie. There was music, singing, comedy, drama, pizza and beer, dissappointment (thanks to spiderman), and true friendship. Brilliant.

Happy Mother's Day

2007-05-13T11:06:00.000-07:00

Dear Mom,

I admire you, I love you, and I am proud to be your daughter.

I am a little hesitant to write you this letter because I'm afraid I won't be able to adequately express how much I love you and how amazing you are, but I'm going to give it a shot.

I admire you. You have had an extremely hard life. You have endured experiences that I hope to never encounter. I think about the parts of your life that you have allowed me to see and hear, and then I look at you with amazement. You have weathered the storm well, coming through it not beaten and weak, but strong and beautiful. You continue to live with a joy that is child-like, like a child who has not felt the pain of loss, dissapointment, and suffering, and who lives with a pure hope and excitement for the future.

I love you. The older I get, the more I see you in me, and the more I understand you. The more I understand you, the more I love you. I love your smile, I love that you love to talk about absolutely everything, I love it when you get excited about the little things, I love how you are easily moved by the pain and joy of others. I love that you are goofy. I love your stubborness and that your own stubborness pushes you to be willing and flexible. It pushes you to do things like move to a state where nothing is familiar because you are determined to love your husband well. I love your love for life, for others, and for Jesus.

I am happy and proud to be your daughter. You have taught me how to be teachable. I don't even know if you see it, but even while you are extremely stubborn, you are extremely teachable. Maybe its because you are determined to grow. I have seen you learn and grow incredibly in the last 10 years, and your growth has been a great example for me.

You have taught me how to smile. I remember when I was a kid, I would hear people talk about you and your beautiful smile. And now whenever someone comments on my frequent smile, I think of you and I smile some more.

You have taught me how to be transparent. You wear your heart on your sleeve, and allow people into the depths of your world. You invite them in and you ask them to stay around for a while. That is an amazing gift. I am so happy to be a part of your world, and I hope to be as transparent as you and to welcome people into my world as you have welcomed me into yours.

Gee, a tear just ran down my cheek.

Like I said before, the older I get the more of you I see in me. And I am happy for it. Don't worry, I'm not ignorant... I'm all grown up and I know you have flaws. I see your flaws in me too. But if inheriting your flaws means that I get to inherit your beauty, your gifts, and your blessings, then I am glad to have the whole package. I am glad to be a part of your life, and I feel blessed to be like you.

Thanks for being amazing. I love you mom.

Happy Mother's Day :)

Water for People

2007-05-07T21:11:00.000-07:00

One of the things about my job that I am most grateful for is my introduction to the non-profit organization, Water for People.

I talk a little bit about the organization at the end of this post. There is a lot of wonderful things I can write about Water for People, but for your sake and mine I'll keep it short.

My top 3 favorite things about Water for People:

1) They have found that the best way to help a village is to empower the people to take care of themselves.

2) 82 to 85% of all funds go directly to the projects. That is an amazingly HUGE percentage. Some non-profits lose 80% in administration and have only 15 to 20% left for the projects.

3) They don't have a cookie-cutter solution. They go to the town, find out what they need, find out what they want, find out what they have, and then create a solution that will fit best. If the town just needs a bucket, then they give the people a bucket and help them plan financially for the next time they need a bucket. brilliant.

Carollo Engineers (the company I work for) supports Water for People by fundraising during the month of May. Carollo has several offices throughout the country that participate in this fundraiser. Because God knew I would love it, I somehow became the point fundraiser person for in the Pasadena office. Let me tell you, I had NO CLUE how much I love fundraising. We've made t-shirts, sold cookies, given presentations... and it has been a blast. We're even raising money! :)

And now to the point of this post.

We are having a Happy Hour in Pasadena to support Water for People. Spread the word.

The purpose of the happy hour is to raise awareness and to raise more funds. The party will be at Bar Celona, who has offered to donate 15% of the revenue from the happy hour to Water for People. There will be a raffle, where all gifts have been donated and all the money raised will go to Water for People. There will also be a mix of people, from college, engineering companies, the Pasadena Fire Department, random people I have met while fundraising, hopefully complete strangers that I didn't even invite...

So if you are in the area, or if you know someone in the area, or if you can get to the area, please join us at the happy hour! The more the marrier!

Here are the details:

Who? Carollo Engineers, Water for People, Bar Celona and you :)
What? Happy Hour!
Where? Bar Celona: 46 E. Colorado Blvd, Pasadena CA 91105.
When? Wednesday, May 23rd, 5 - 7 pm
Why? To help Water for People get water to the people.
How? 15% of your purchases at Bar Celona will go to Water for People.

Please let me know if you can go, and please invite your friends! My hope for this event is that people will become more aware of the water crisis around the world and of the ways that Water for People is working to counter the problems, that we will raise money for the organization, and that we can meet other people in the area that are supporting the cause.

If you have any questions, please post them and I'll see what I can do to answer them.

Hi Mom!

2007-05-02T23:32:00.000-07:00

I cut my hair 5 months ago, and my mom has been bugging me about sending her a picture. I finally have a couple and I figured I'd post them. Now you all know what I look like.

This is me and my fantabulous housemates.

We are on our way to a birthday party and salsa dancing. :)

Left to right: Erin, Preethi, me.

And this picture is for my mom.

Hi mom! This is my new (5 month old) hair cut!

Sorry it took me so long to post it!

An opportunity you don't want to miss

2007-04-30T23:30:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make. I watch American Idol. I have another confession to make. I was rooting for SanJaya.

So of course I have some thoughts about the "American Idol Gives Back" shows from last week.

First, I find the title ironic. Idol Gives Back. Heh.

Second, I have to say good job. Last I hear, over $60 million has been donated. That is a huge chunk of change that is going to people who really need it. That is $60 million more than there would have been, which is good news.

...But...

The entire situation bothers me. I couldn't help but notice the "hero" mentality that was on the show. It was as if people were "realizing" that rich americans could save the poor without much cost to themselves or their lifestyles. They were given a great opportunity to vote for their idol and simultaneously helped the world. How heroic. What really irks me is that Ryan Seacrest, when urging people to call and vote, said that this call "could be the most important call you ever make."

Pathetic. Over 70 million people voted, and only 60 million dollars were donated. More money would have been collected if everyone gave just one dollar. ONE DOLLAR.

wow. such an important call. i don't know about you, but i sure don't want to miss an opportunity to give away less than one dollar. it could be the most important thing i ever do...

All this to say: WE DO NOT HAVE TO WAIT FOR IDOL TO GIVE BACK. If we ALL gave ONE DOLLAR EVERY DAY, then we would have somethin' goin' on. One dollar every day is cheaper than most coffee addictions, soda addictions, gum addictions, inefficient gas guzzlers, etc. When you find a dollar on the street, you probably don't even get excited about it. Just imagine if those 70 million voters gave one dollar every day. That would add up to $2.1 billion in one month. $25.55 billion in one year. Now that is a big chunck of change.

And one more thing. Even $25.55 billion is not heroic. It is tragic. Among the wealthy of the world, $25.55 billion could be collected from spare change. Among the poor of the world, there is no change to spare. That bothers me. Giving is not heroic, it should be expected. We have too much and they have too little.

In conclusion, Idol giving back is a step in the right direction, but it is nothing compared to what could be. We have the opportunity to give back every single day. And that opportunity is something that way too many people are missing.

Gotta love it

2007-04-15T20:54:00.000-07:00

Hey friends,

I was just reflecting on some random stuff that I have recently come to love, and I thought I would share. (this is not a comprehensive list, and it is in no particular order)

1) Yoga. Thanks to my wonderful friend and housemate, Erin, I have discovered the wonderfulness of yoga. After my manic mondays at work, I go to my yoga class and find myself in some awkward, but somehow amazing position. As I am trying to balance on one foot, or going a little closer to doing the splits, I totally forget about the busyness of life, I think about how funny the room of 30 or 40 of us must look, and I simply relax, meditate, and sometimes pray. Its amazing. Not only is it relaxing, but I'm more flexible and I have less back problems. Haha. That sounds like an advertisemnt. Oh well. What can I say? I like yoga.

2) Salsa dancing. Thanks to my wonderful friend Jen and her 23rd birthday, I got to go salsa dancing this weekend. AMAZING. First of all, I love dancing. Secondly, salsa has a beautiful rhythym that is easy to pick up and move to. Thirdly, I love dancing.

3) Fundraising for Water for People. It is currently my favorite part of my job, but it isn't even a part of my job. I am helping make t-shirts, plan a happy hour, do a bake sale, and I get to learn more about Water for People and meet a lot of interesting people in the process. (check out their link on the right). Going to be in Pasadena in May? You should come to the happy hour. I'll let you know when and where in a couple weeks.

4) Talking to the security guy in my office building. His name is Fred, and he is cool.

5) Playing my guitar. I don't know that many songs, but that's OK, I gotta start somewhere. Whenever I need to talk to God or vent or relax, but I don't know what to say or do, I just pull out the guitar and sing. Its wonderful. (I'm not sure my housemates think that, but they at least tolerate it. :))

6) Jesus. I guess I haven't just recently come to love Jesus. I've loved him for a long time. But my current love for him feels fresh, new, deeper, stronger, and closer to complete.

7) Driving with the window down and the music up. Again, I've loved these things for a long time, but I appreciate it more than ever now that I spend 40 hours every week in a quiet cubicle with no window. Thank God for windows and music.

8) Spending time with the neighborhood kids. They bring me back to reality. Even when they are fighting, not sharing, demanding attention, not eating all their food, asking for more candy, crying, etc., they help me remember what is important in life.

9) My beater 2-door, 1990 Honda Accord.

-Dents: 2.
-Stains: countless.
-Oil spilled in the trunk? Check.
-Almost broken lock on the driver-side door? Check.
-Problems getting my key out of the ignition because of the broken Parking indicator? Very much Check.
-Can fit more people than there are seatbelts? Check.
-Missing transmission fluid dip stick? Fortunately, that is no longer a Check.
-My friends and often times carpool buddies, Erin and Preethi, have likened the process of getting out of the back of my car to emerging from the womb. Haha.
-Priceless memories? Check.

10) Reading the countless comments on my blog, which help me to know what people are thinking, what they disagree with, what they relate to, what else I should write about, how to improve my posts, and... oh wait. that doesn't happen. hmm... anyone out there? (hint hint, wink wink).

the real 10) Taking my grandpa on dates.

So great. so great. :)

an easter reflection

2007-04-09T22:29:00.000-07:00

Now that I have spent a good 30 minutes trying to come up with the words to correctly express my reflections of this Easter, and now that I have hit the delete and backspace keys several, several times... I have found that I have no words that can accurately present to you my feelings of awe, amazement, grief, confusion, anger, gratefulness, and joy when I think of Jesus at Easter.

More than ever, I feel as though I helped place him on that cross. I feel as if I took a nail and drove it into His feet, or spat at him as he walked toward his death. More than ever this past year, I have struggled to follow Jesus. There have been times this year where I simply didn't want to follow him. I didn't doubt his existence, I was just tired and wanted out. I wished that I didn't know him, that I didn't know his words, and that I didn't know what he was asking of me. I didn't want to give him my life. I put him on the cross.

And now, more than ever, I desperately long for Jesus. I had hated him, but he loved me. I left him there, suffering, bleeding, dying. But he forgave me. I had NO CLUE what I was doing, but that didn't matter. He died for me. And on that glorious day we call Easter, He came back for me.

The funny thing is I struggled to follow Jesus because I stubbornly didn't want to give up any part of my life that I liked. He could have the stuff I didn't like, but otherwise I didn't want to change. I didn't want to feel convicted. I was willing to follow Jesus as long as I could also do whatever I wanted. I didn't want to sacrifice any part of my life to follow him. Hmm... I didn't want to give my life to him, even though he already gave his life to me.

So I stand in humility, and I stand in awe. I am humbled by Jesus' persistant and abundant love. I am in awe of his willingness to die for those who don't even know they are killing him. And I am grateful. More than ever, I am grateful for that day 2000 years ago when Jesus proved that nothing, not even the pain of death, could keep him away.

An empire full of thirsty people

2007-04-05T21:21:00.000-07:00

Today I met a man who is trying to create an empire.

He doesn't really care how it happens. He just wants his empire and his crown. If you catch him doing something helpful for a neighbor, he will say, "Don't think that this helpful act is a 'good samaritan thing', I just have to help them in order to help me."

Guess how he is making his little empire. Guess what he is using to gain his power, his authority, and his empire. Money? No. Fame? No way. Good looks? haha, you must be joking. Water? Yes.

And why is water the key to his kingdom? Well like he said to me today, "Money is water and water is money." The more water he can get for his people, the more people that can come, the more money they can create, and thus the fruition of an empire. This plan makes perfect sense.
extra water = room for more people. people = work force. work force = more money. money = empire.

Under normal circumstances, there could very well be no harm in such a plan.

But there is. There are neighboring cities, neighboring empires - other people that need the water that is coming from the ground below them. So this man has to prove that he isn't draining the supply. He has to prove that he can take as much as he wants because there's enough for him and then still more for his neighbors. And he seems to be proving this by throwing around some numbers and test results and calling it good.

There is a man, let's call him Joe, who looks for water supplies from far away lands that he can bring to the local kingdoms. Joe is a good guy. Joe is trying to give all the people water. He doesn't want anyone to die of thirst. Joe thinks (and I have to say that I agree with Joe) that our empire hunter has bad numbers and no proof of this supposed "vast supply of water." Joe needs money to buy water from other places.

But money is expensive, so Mr. I-Want-To-Be-King has decided to keep Joe poor. He would like to buy Joe out, but he can't, so he is keeping Joe poor. He claims there is enough water and that Joe doesn't need any money.

It gets worse.

Empire Man knows deep down that the water will run out, so he is building wells that go deep down - 500 feet deeper than the wells of neighboring cities. This extra 500 ft will allow him to pump water even when his neighbors can no longer reach it. He will be able to pump the ground dry until there is nothing left, long after his rival kingdoms are dry.

And there you have it.

This hopeful king is promising a very attractive place with large, affordable homes, beautiful, well-watered parks, and a life with no parched lips. But he is running the land dry, draining its resources, and creating an empire full of thirsty people.

I think I met the devil today - promising life, but causing death, all because of his desire for a throne.

I just hope Joe wins.

My Grandma...

2007-04-04T21:37:00.000-07:00

...is getting neck surgery tomorrow, Thursday the 5th, at noon.

After the surgery, she will have two screws in her neck, one screw in her skull, a neck brace, and a bald spot.

To top it off, she is planning on going on a motor-home rally a week later.

I love that about my grandma. I don't think it's a good idea to go on a trip after having screws drilled into her neck and head, but I have to admire her drive.

Did I tell you she went to Disneyland when she had a broken neck? Yeah, that's drive. ...or red-headed stubbornness.

Anyway, if you are into praying, or even if you aren't, please pray for my grandma. Please pray that the surgery will go smoothly and that she will heal quickly. Not only is she having surgery, but she is in the hospital through Easter and into Monday. My grandma doesn't like laying around and feeling stuck. She doesn't like people taking care of her. She wants to take care of other people. Please pray for patience. Please pray for my grandpa. He doesn't like cooking. He might starve while she is gone. haha. just kidding. But he could probably use some peace and patience himself.

Thanks for the help.

I love you, Nana. And I am praying for you.

Dear Dr. Dobson,

2007-03-27T22:44:00.000-07:00

Do you want to focus on families?

Let us focus on them for a moment. Let us think about your children, your grandchildren, their children and grandchildren. Let us think about the world in which they will live in fifty and one-hundred years. Let us think about the world we are giving to your family, the world we are forcing your great-grandchildren to inherit.

Let us think about the families in New Orleans, Haiti, France in 2003, families experiencing floods, families experiencing drought, families living on the coast, families living in the desert. Let's take a minute to focus on them.

focus...

Should we do something about it? Should we care for these families? Should we consider their circumstances? Should we help them? Should we care about the world that we are destroying? The impact that our current actions could have on the environment that our future family will live in?

YES.
YES we should care.
And as a Christian I should be ANGRY about the way I, the church, and humanity have been completely irresponsible with the world we have been given. We have been poor stewards with the life God entrusted to us.

Dr. Dobson, I want you to know that I agree with this letter.
Maybe you should read this article.
Maybe you should focus on those families.
Maybe you should focus on all the families that are being affected by our inability to care about this world.

Well dang shoot, I think ALL the families are affected by this.
Hmmm, that's a problem, don't you think?

(and yes, I did just post two blogs in one day!)

Practical Justice

2007-03-26T21:31:00.000-07:00

I've been reading some good books lately, and I recently thought to myself,

"Self, these books have been good. You have learned quite a bit from them. You have a lot of friends that would like them too. You should tell them about it."

So here it is. The beginning of my books-that-you-should-read list.

The first book on my list:

Practical Justice, by Kevin Blue.

Why should you read this book?

First of all,
Kevin Blue wrote it. He is the head honcho for the internship that I am doing with Servant Partners. He is an amazing man, and an important leader and mentor in my life. Want to know more about what I am doing? Read a book written by my mentor.

Secondly.
This book is very practical. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by the injustices occuring everywhere, all the time, next door, across the street, across town, in the city, in the country, in the world, etc. I want justice to be brought to the entire world. I want poverty to end. I want people to work with each other instead of against each other. And in my state of feeling too small in the midst of an extremely large problem, I find myself not knowing where to begin and thinking about giving up. Kevin Blue lays out some very practical ways to face injustice and kick it in the shin. He writes:

"There are plenty of issues, plenty of opportunities to work for justice, plenty of work to go around. We can't all do everything. The concerns are many, but we need not be overwhelmed by them. Rather, we should simply recongize that everyone cannot do everything but we should all be involved in addressing injustice."

three:
Kevin gives a very clear explanation of the call to Christians to live and fight for justice.

Jesus followers: It is a good word to read. I've heard, read, discussed, been convicted by, and changed my life because of the call to live justly. I've been there and done that. But this book brought me there again. Whether you don't understand how justice, Jesus, and your faith-life correlate, or you don't understand how people couldn't understand, this book is good for your soul.

Not a Christian?: This book is a good look into the part of Christianity that I know and love, and the part that I mournfully acknowledge is not well known or loved. You might find it interesting and completely different from the Christian religion you have seen. And of course, the call for justice is a call that does not discriminate, it is a call for everyone.

4th

There are some great words of wisdom throughout this book. One that stands out to me in particular is this:

"The most persistent temptation for those who seek to live a Christian life is simply to quit, because a real life of faith is difficult. It is painful. It is uncomfortable. There is real joy, peace and provision in following jesus - these and many other blessings are part of the journey. But the real Christian life encompasses sorrow. It is a life of losing life, of giving it away in sacrificial service like the Master. And in so doing, we find the life of God strengthening us, giving us the peace, joy, provision and purpose we long for."

V
i like this book. not too long. well written. worth my time. and worth yours too.

Thanks, Kevin Blue, for the sacrifices you have made. I can personally testify that your devotion to Jesus has been a blessing, encouragement, and help to my life and the lives of many, many others.

February

2007-03-19T23:39:00.000-07:00

So if you didn't notice, I didn't write much in February. And I know some of you are dying to know what happened while I was gone, so here it is.

A lot happened in February, and the funny part is that I can't talk about a majority of it because of confidentiality laws and simple respect for a family's privacy. But I can talk about what I learned - and what I am still learning - from my experience.

I need Jesus.

I've always known that I need Jesus. My life has always been better when He is in it, when I bring Him into my life, but I realized this need in a new way, or maybe a way I once new but completely forgot.

I have always turned to Jesus for joy. If I'm sad, depressed, angry, upset, sick, tired, neutral, or even happy or content, I turn to Jesus to bring me true joy or to make it complete. I thank Him, I praise Him, I love Him. And this, I think, is great. Receiving joy from my relationship with Jesus has been a huge part of my life that I am very greatful for.

But many times, maybe more often then I would like to admit, there is a time to mourn.

I ran into one of these times of mourning and sadness when the *event that I can't talk about* began to unfold.

And I almost ran right past it.

I'd get up, complain about being tired, eat breakfast, go to work, realize again how great work is, read or walk during my lunch break, work some more, try to be more helpful in the office and grow friendships with my coworkers, go to the gym, listen to my music, eat a big dinner, relax a bit, laugh some, read the news, maybe read some more of my book, or watch some LOST, maybe pray with my roommates, then go to bed with the hope that I would be rested enough for the next day.

It was always when I went to bed that I would realize that I hadn't taken the time to think about the family that was struggling. I hadn't taken time to let their situation affect me, upset me, move me. I hadn't felt love for them in the way that I thought I loved them.

This lasted maybe two or three days, and then I sunk like a rock. I'm still not quite sure what happened, but a lot of things came tumbling down. While realizing that I couldn't feel pain for the family, I realized a lot of pain within myself. The worst of it was that nothing horrible had happened. The family, while going through hard times, was still relatively okay - everyone was alive and as healthy as they were when I met them. My life was going really well too. I spent a lot of quality time with my friends, I had a really good review at work, my family was doing well, and life was "good" according to any outsider's perspective. I thought that I should be content, able to love and pray for the family with the hope that it would get better. Instead, I was a mess.

And this is when I realized I needed Jesus. If I was going to try and mourn and grieve, and feel the pain of suffering all by myself, I was going to die.

I am way too mortal to carry such a heavy burden.

Finding myself completely depressed, I started praying longer and harder than I have in a long time. I don't think I said much. I just asked Jesus to help me. Sometimes I would tell Him that this grief was too difficult. Sometimes I would decide that it wasn't worth the effort. The weight of the package wasn't worth what was inside. I would think about what it would be like if I stopped trying to follow this god that was allowing me to cry so much.

I probably wouldn't cry as much...

But I wouldn't be content as often either...

And then I made it to the other side. I decided to stick it through with Jesus, and the weight/wait was worth it. The last time I had felt that depressed, I tried to ride it out without God's help and it took me about 6 months. This time took me about 3 weeks. I have also been able to better express my love for the family and for others. I have been able to pray more deeply, to love more unconditionally, and to be sad and upset without being depressed and unhelpful. Of course, I have a long way to go and a lot of ways to improve, but its a start.

--------------------------------------------------------

And now I am to the part that I am still learning.

I guess I am learning how to be aware of when it is time to mourn, when it is time to celebrate, and when it is time to be somewhere in the middle, and how my relationship with Jesus fits into ALL of that. It's a really basic idea, but it is easy to forget.

My friend Aaron (hi aaron!) gave me a fresh perspective on joy and sorrow when he described to me two types of people:

There are those who see sadness as genuine. Wanting to be genuine, they look for sadness. I guess you could call them pessimists. Even when something is going well, they find something wrong with it. They might say something like "It could be better if this weren't like that."

There are those who see happiness as genuine. Wanting to be genuine, they look for happiness. Optimists. Even when something goes wrong, they say "Well at least its okay because this is like that."

They are both trying to have a true, clear perspective on life, but half the time they are running right past it. Neither of those people are grasping the fullness of life; the life that, according to my experience in February, God wants us to have.

what's wrong with this picture?

2007-03-13T23:09:00.000-07:00

Nigeria's vice-president slightly injures himself and has to travel to the UK to get medical treatment.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/em/fr/-/2/hi/africa/6442855.stm

Good thing he has enough money to get there.

I'm not judging Atiku, I don't have much of an opinion for or against him, I don't know enough about him, but I do have an opinion about this little medical trip.

I wonder where all the normal Nigerian folk get medical treatment, and why Atiku couldn't go there. There could be a lot of reasons, but I don't think I would like any of them.

Want to know more about Atiku? He is running for president. He is part of the People's Democratic Party (PDP), which has a very admirable mission statement:

“Faced with the tragic consequences of underdevelopment, our mission is to qualitatively transform the Nigerian economy and society. Therefore, we shall tirelessly work for:
-The creation of a dynamic economy designed to serve the people’s interest and in which market forces are combined with the forces of partnership, solidarity and co-operation to create and produce goods and services for all.
-Establishment of a free democratic society in which powers and actions of government are lawful and where those in authority are held responsible and accountable to the people.”
http://www.atikuabubakar.net/index.php?page=static/pdmpdp.html&topimage=images/politics.gif&menuid=6,0

Really, I don't know much about the PDP, or Nigeria for that matter, but I thought this was interesting. If you know any more about Atiku, the party, the impact of this party, the country, or anything else related, let me know by posting a comment, because I'd love to learn more about this country.

Don't be shy. We are all friends here. I know there are a lot of you out there that read this blog. And I know that a lot of you know a lot of stuff.

That's all. Goodnight.

My Flesh and Blood

2007-03-11T22:12:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel like life is hard?

Do you ever wish that your life was better?

Do you ever feel unmotivated, or like you are doing anything worthwhile?

Do you feel like you are doing too much?

Do you ever wish your family was at least a bit more normal?

Do you ever wish you were physically or mentally different? Better looking, smarter, more athletic, happier...

If you answered "yes," "sometimes," "maybe," "not really," "no," or any other answer to any of these questions (get the hint?), then I suggest that you watch the documentary directed by Jonathan Karsh in 2003 titled "My Flesh and Blood."

This film is about an overweight, single, middle aged woman and her 11 adopted special needs children.

I have a lot of thoughts about this family, many of which I am still sorting out.

The mother is definitely doing way too much, and her decision to do so has a clearly negative affect on some of her children. On the other hand, she saw a need and she decided to do something about it, sacrificing her time, money, and life for these children. Then again, the children are not the only ones in the family with needs. The grandmother suggested, and I agree, that the mother has a deep need to help people, and the best way for her to feel loved and accepted is to help people who depend on her. Thus by helping these children who obviously need to be cared for, she is fulfilling her need to feel loved. I am not sure if this is a completely healthy situation, but no matter how flawed or imperfect the situation may be, I admire the mother's devotion and love for these children. I would personally go crazy under the same circumstances.

My favorite of the children, and the one I admire the most, is Anthony. I think he should be 24 this year.

Watch the film and tell me what you think.

(sorry if there are extreme typos in this post. i typed this entire thing once already and then the blog page lost it, so i had to write it all over again. I'm way too tired and lazy to read through it yet another time...) ;)

i'm bAAAaaaack!

2007-02-26T21:51:00.000-08:00

My computer is really dumb.

Praise God I have a computer, but it is really dumb.

...or maybe i'm dumb when it comes to computers...

ANYway, I haven't been able to sign into my blog for the last 3 weeks. I don't know what happened, but one day I went to the blog website, I clicked the "sign in" link, and nothing happened. I tried again, and still nothing. I turned off all my internet security and pop-up blockers. Still. nothing.

Then I shrugged my shoulders and walked away. I'm busy, I thought, its probably good that I can't sign in.

Unfortunately, the problem didn't go away. It turns out that I could sign into my blog on other computers, just not my own.

I don't know how I figured it out, but I just now was able to sign in.

How? I had to hold the shift key while I clicked on the "sign in" link.

SO, if a link seems broken for some weird, stupid reason, try hitting the "shift" key.
That is my lesson for the day. Well, I guess that's my lesson for the month...

Sorry for the silence recently. I'll write more on that later, but I'm really tired and I'm going to bed, feeling victorious. I have solved the puzzle and beaten the beast that is my computer.

In the meantime, if someone knows how I can fix the stupid link, please let me know.

Thanks, and goodnight. :)

Homeless

2007-01-29T00:05:00.000-08:00

"Home" is a concept that I have a hard time understanding.

My parents and I moved every two or three years when I was growing up, and I LOVED it. We never moved far - always an hour drive this way or that way, but I was excited every time to have a new place to call "home." "Homesick" is another term I don't understand.

When I left on summer trips, when I went to college, when I studied in Australia for a semester, when I traveled this summer, I didn't get "homesick." Ask my parents. They never knew if I was alive or dead because I never called them and I never even thought about home.

I always thought that my love to move and my ability to not miss home showed that I adapt well to new places and situations. I thought it meant that I was flexible and comfortable in a variety of environments...

But then I went to Central City Community Church of the Nazarene. The service was incredible. It was one of the best services I have been to in a long time. "A piece of heaven," said my housemate Erin. Why was it so good? I have to give the pastor props, because his sermon was off-the-charts amazing. But I have heard some #1 hits before and they didn't always leave me feeling like I just walked through heaven's doors.

As I sat among the church congregation, I tried to figure out what made these people and this place so wonderful.

Then it hit me. The majority of the people that attend this church are homeless. The strangest realization for me was that I felt like I was one of them, struggling and hoping for the same things as them. At first I was almost angry with myself. My life is so easy compared to theirs. How could I be so ignorant to flippantly feel like I related with their struggles? How could I say that I felt like these men and women who have no place of their own were my family? I couldn't tell them that I understood what they were going through. I hated telling them I lived in Pasadena when they asked where I stayed. If one of them asked me for money on a street corner, I might not even give it to them. So how could I, albeit slightly ironically, feel like this place was "home-sweet-home" and these people were my family?Then it hit me again.

Praising God with this congregation was sweet to my soul because we all understood something crucial:

This life is not "home."

We agreed together that we know what "home" is supposed to be like, and this life was not it. We were longing together for something better, something perfect. We wanted not only the best for ourselves, but the best for each other. And we all knew where to look for it. We knew we could find a home in God, and that is where we put our hearts, capturing the idea that "home is where the heart is."

As I sat with the my brothers and sisters in Christ, praying for peace, asking for justice, hoping for breakthrough, committing to persevere through pain and temptation, I realized that this is what I had been looking for every time I moved when I was little. Being with a community that understood where "home" is is what I had been longing for. I was never homesick because there was no home to miss - I hadn't found it yet.

So I guess I can officially say that I am homesick. I desire a home the way a home should be. I am sick for a place where no one is in need, no one is in pain, and no one is left behind. I want to live in shalom, a place of peace. Who doesn't?

And as I write this, I realize that I am homesick for Africa (Ghana in particular) because of the community I found there. I found men and women greatly affected by and unsettled with the circumstances of an unjust world. They strive for something better, and live with the hope, faith, and understanding that the best home of all is discovered within a life that is committed to following Jesus.

For my friends in Ghana and the Central City church, the pain of every-day life in a broken world is sometimes too hard to bear, but they continue on with smiles on their faces because they know exactly where home is and what home is not. Life is hard, and they don't always smile, but they know where to find joy, where to find satisfaction, and where to find the comfort of a true home.

May God bless them and give them relief as they endure suffering that I will never fully understand and as we long and pray together for the home of peace and joy that God has promised us.

Patience is a virtue.

2007-01-26T20:22:00.000-08:00

Coming soon to a blog near you.... a new post. ;)

In Memory of 2006

2007-01-05T21:10:00.000-08:00

its 2007, folks.
can you believe it?
i can.

2006 was so jammed pack with life that if the new year hadn't come, I think 2006 would have exploded.

I remember standing in Downtown Disney with my wonderful friend Katie a little over a year ago, counting down the last minute of 2005. Tears came to my eyes when the clock struck midgnight, and I looked at Katie and said, "I'm going to miss 2005, it was possibly my best year so far. I don't know if 2006 will be able to match it."

I was so naive back then.
2006 trumped 2005.
Hands down.

But this year, I have learned my lesson:

I didn't shed a tear when 2006 walked away, because 2007 walked in.

This year is already off to a good start too. I got to praise God at midnight, I got to spend time with my good good good friend Jenna, and on new years day I got to drive home from san luis obispo down the 101, looking at a beautiful spotty-cloud dusk, and listening to Anathallo. That, my friends, was amazing.

happy new year and all that jazz.
I hope and pray that we all allow 2007 to be the best yet.

puzzle pieces

2006-12-25T21:01:00.000-08:00

For the last two weeks I have been wrestling with an idea that I haven't been able to put into words. I was going to ignore the massive blurry image floating in my mind and instead write about the spirit of giving during the Christmast season. My plan to ignore didn't work, and you are going to have to think about the spirit of giving without me. Fortunately, though, I think I may have found some words to explain my latest internal struggle.

I am nowhere near conquering the struggle. I have no conclusion to present. I might not even be near the climax of the conflict. But I wanted to share with you my thoughts.

My thoughts begin with a woman in the slums of Manila in the Philippines. Like all of her neighbors do, I will call her Nanay, which is Tagalog for Mother. Nanay was my host mom when I stayed in Manila in September, '06. Her house is one room, with a curtain separating the living room/dining room from the bedroom. Four of her children, one of her grandchildren, and her grandchild's father live with her in that tiny house, and the dining room table folds up at night to make more sleeping space. She makes a "living" by selling food from 9 pm to 4 am every night. She cooks the food on a small coal stove that sits on the ground and holds a large bowl similar in shape to a wok. The stove sometimes makes flames a foot high, threatening to burn the shelves next to it. When she isn't cooking or selling food, she is going to the market, working at the nearby prison, or helping the church next door with their ministries. Sometimes she gets to sleep. When I was there in September, she was also cooking lunch and dinner for me and a friend every other day.

Her life is hard, but she is one of the most joyful and content women I have ever met. Don't get me wrong, I have seen happier people, and Nanay has had a life full of pain, but she is amazingly grateful for what little she has and she is full of joy. The church once tried to give her money for a new stove, which would help her cook faster, make better food, and protect her home from possiblly burning down. She took the money, bought food and blankets, and gave it all to the people in the nearby prison. She was happy with her broken stove and she wanted to help others who had less than herself. She is truely content with her life and excited to give joyfully to others.

I am leaving too much of Nanay's story out right now, but in interest of time I am moving on. I will hopefully write more about her and you will just have to trust me right now that this woman is amazing. Meeting, talking with, and learning to love Nanay has completely changed my life. My collision with her has left me feeling broken and small.

Here is where the massive, blurry image begins to come into focus:

In my mind's eye I see the lives of everyone in the world, past, present, and future, coming together as a gigantic, intricate, beautiful puzzle. When I look at Nanay's life, I see a small but complex and priceless puzzle piece. I see a piece that fills a very tiny space, but reveals an amazing image of true joy and selflesness. Her puzzle piece is one that finally puts the image together. Nanay's life is one that truely impacts the lives of those around her, completing a beautiful picture, and revealing that beauty to the beholder (the beholder being me in this case, and maybe you).

Then I think of my life, and a million questions ensue. What puzzle piece am I now? What piece do I want to be? What picture do I want to reveal? What space does God want me to fill? Do all these questions point to the same piece? Or are the answers to these questions in conflict, pulling me in different directions, breaking me apart, and turning me into several microscopic, useless pieces, filling holes that reveal nothing more than a spec of dust or the anxiety of the pursuit of happiness?

In essence: who am I, who do I want to be, and who does God want me to be? And are these three the same?

I am 100% sure that the answers to these questions are different.

I don't expect to resolve this problem any time soon, but I wanted to share with you the tension that I am experiencing.

Where do I fit in the puzzle? What responsibilities do I hold in my hands? What pictures could I reveal to the beholder? What beautiful images does God want to reveal through me? Do I want to be like Nanay and bear those complex, painful, and amazing images with joy and selflesness? Do I want to bear it at all?

I want to scream "yes, yes I will bear it." But do I mean it? What does it look like for a white, single, american woman with a car, an apartment, a job, a lot of friends, and a great family to "bear it," to reveal God's beautiful images?

Currently, I have no clue.

I'm feeling reflective, so its time for a story

2006-12-13T21:32:00.000-08:00

There once was a little girl who had no clue what her future would hold.

She wanted to grow up and be the next Amy Grant. (Now give her a break, she was just a little girl.) Deciding that show-biz wasn't the life for her, she knew she had to choose something else. She liked the ocean, so she thought that maybe she would be a marine biologist. She liked school, so maybe she would be a teacher.

In the third grade she got glasses. (Yes, she was young for glasses, but oh well. Not everyone has perfect vision.) Every time she went to the eye doctor, she wanted to know why. "Why is he making me watch the tip of that pen? Why is he writing something down? Why does changing the lenses and saying 'one, or two? two or three? two or four?' help him know what perscription I need?" So she decided to become an optometrist. She told her optometrist the news, and he said there was no money in it. He told her "you should become an eye surgeon, they make more money." After considering his advice for a while, she decided to become a laser-eye surgeon. And when it came time to apply to colleges, she applied for all the pre-med programs in the state. She got into almost all of them.

She picked her college and her major, but she was nervous. "Am I doing this because I want to, or because I decided in sixth grade that I would?" Early spring semester of her senior year of highschool, her grandpa wound up in the hospital with heart problems. While sitting in the ICU with him, she kept staring at the medical machines. That night she realized she didn't want to be a doctor. She didn't want to do laser-eye surgery because of the eyes, but because of the lasers. She liked the machinery. She needed to be an engineer.

So at the last minute she chose a different school and a different major. She began her engineering experience having no clue what she would do with it. Maybe she would do bio-medical engineering. Maybe she would work with planes. Maybe she would become an astronaut. After struggling through 2 years of general courses and lower level engineering classes, she doubted her choice. Engineering was hard and it wasn't personal. She didn't like doing math all the time and testing this and analyzing that. The summer after her sophomore year, however, she came across the idea of civil engineering and transportation. She had been living in a city where they had actually made one-way roads in order to keep the traffic away from the low-class, run-down areas. That bothered her and she wanted to change it, so she decided to become a transportation engineer.

Two years later she graduated from college. She went to a far-away country for a month, where her world was turned around and flipped upside down. She fell in love with it. She fell in love with the people, the place, the weather, the culture, and the life. And they didn't have running water. That was stupid. It was raining every other day and they had pipes, but they didn't have running water. She decided that she could fix that problem, that she could figure out how to get the water to the people. And once again she changed her mind: she would do water engineering.

So fourteen years and 11 careers later, this girl went from wanting to be the next Amy Grant, to wanting to work with water.

The next battle was finding a job. In her four years of college, she had taken only one water course, which unfortunately had nothing to do with the water engineering she was interested in. She went from one civil consulting company to the next, not finding a place that fit her desires or a place that fit their needs. She again began to doubt, but this time she started to doubt all of her choices. Did she pick the wrong college? Did she pick the wrong major? Should she have just decided to be a missionary? She could have just moved to that country that she loved and stayed there forever.

And then she found it. She found the job that she never could have dreamed of. She does master planning in infrastructure. She looks at a city, looks at where the people are and how much water they need, and then looks at how much water there is and where it is stored, and figures out the best way to get the water to the people.

And here's the best part:

The country she fell in love with is in Africa. The company she works with helps support a non-profit agency called Water for People, which does work in Africa. They help people build and maintain water systems. They help people get water. To top it all off, a woman in her office is on the board for Water for People and is working with them in India this month. She is taking extended time off from the company to work with Water for People, and the company had no qualms about her leaving for so long. Her job is waiting for her when she comes back.

So the story ends with this:

There is a slightly older girl who still has no clue what her future holds, but she is extremely excited to find out.

to be continued...

a little advice:

2006-12-07T20:19:00.000-08:00

My friend, who shall remain nameless, has been extremely busy and consequently very tired. One night he dreamt that he was eating an extremely yummy and very chewy piece of food. He started to wake up and realized that he was actually chewing something, so he reached in his mouth and pulled out an earplug! It was the middle of the night and he drowsily rolled over and fell back to sleep, not worrying about the fact that he was chewing on his earplug. But in the morning when he woke up, he looked down at the plug and discovered that there was only half of it left.

YUCKY!

I feel an obligation to stick with the theme of my blog, so....

what should we remember and how should we adjust accordingly?

remember:
- this story and try to avoid repeating it
- to not go to bed hungry
- to stay rested and avoid crazy dreams

adjust by:
- maybe duct taping your mouth if you wear earplugs?
- or maybe duct taping your ears...

at least make sure that they are in tight.

sweet dreams! :)

Rasheed

2006-11-24T22:41:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking about Rasheed a lot lately and I have finally decided to tell you about him.

Rasheed lives outside of Kumasi, Ghana. He attends the Amazing Grace Preparatory school that I worked with in July. He was in class 6 while I was there, so he should be in class 7 now.

I never talked to him very much. I spent most of my time in class 4. But when I did talk to him, I was overwhelmed and confused by the despair and hope that I saw in him.

The last week I was there he asked me if I could pay for his schooling. I had already committed to pay for two other girls and I had no income at the time, so I didn't have enough money and I told him that I couldn't help. I HATED telling him I couldn't help, especially when I saw the hope begin to dissipate and the despair begin to consume. Wishing for his hope to return, I told him I would pray for him and look for a sponsor when I went back home. Sure enough, his hope returned and he smiled at me, but then a new anxiety washed over him and he said: "Don't forget me."

Every day in that last week he would come to me and ask me his name. Every day I would say, "yes, Rasheed, I remember you." And on the last day I was there he wrote down his name and handed it to me.

Then he said it again: "Don't forget me."

Rasheed is probably getting ready to go to school right now. (Yes, they have school on Saturdays.) He is probably wearing the same yellow-shirt and brown-shorts uniform that he wears everyday. He will do the school thing in the morning, devour his lunch that the school provides for the students every day, and then play soccer in the scorching heat.

I miss him. I remember him. But when it comes down to it, remembering him is not what he needs. He needs help. He needs money to pay for an education and food on the table. I feel ashamed that I haven't found him a sponsor. I haven't tried hard enough. When he heard me say that I would look for a sponsor, he pictured me flying to wealthy America where no one is in need, everyone has more than enough, and someone would definitely be able to help him. How could I not find someone?

But somehow, in the wealthiest country in the world, I have found no one.

It costs 30 dollars every month to sponsor a child at the Amazing Grace Preparatory school through their partners, Adom Partnership International.

For the month of November, I have probably spent nearly 30 dollars on coffee and lunch. Why so much? First, I love coffee. Second, I make my lunch in the morning before work, but too frequently I have run out of time in the morning and decided to buy my lunch at a nearby deli.

What a waste of 30 dollars.

Well... you have just witnessed something:
I have just convinced myself to sponsor Rasheed.
Haha.

It might mean making my lunch the night before work, but I think I can handle it. Quite an application to my blog: I remembered Rasheed, and now I am going to adjust my life accordingly. hahaha. I never thought this stupid blog would work that well on me.

And since I can't resist:
If you are interested in sponsoring a child at the Amazing Grace Preparatory school, please let me know! There is a link to the right for Adom Partnership International, the supporter of the school. The link explains a lot about the Parntership and the school, so I suggest you check it out.

My grandma fell down the stairs

2006-11-23T00:26:00.000-08:00

and broke her neck.

She broke it in the best place possible - at the very top where it is most difficult to damage the spinal chord. She has a HUGE brace, she is in quite a bit of pain and very uncomfortable, and she is home with nothing to do but be uncomfortable.

My shower is annoying. The hot water connection is aweful. To have a warm shower in the morning you have to turn the hot water all the way on - which comes to a full blown drizzle :/ . If you want any sort of water pressure, you have to turn on the cold water and settle for an almost-warm shower.

My 13-year-old neighbor's dad died about 2 weeks ago.

My ignition is broken. Ever day when I go to work I fight with my car for 2 minutes, begging it to let go of my key.

I feel like an idiot at work. I have no clue what I am doing.

In the last week or so I have developed a really annoying problem. I'm suddenly lactose intolerant. yep.

So..... Why do I say all this? Don't worry, I'm not complaining.

My work is too lazy to give me a parking permit for the month of November because I started in the middle of the month. Since I have no permit I have to stop at the security window every day to get my parking stub. I see the same, kind, old man every morning and every morning our greetings to each other become more and more familiar. I am always in a hurry when I rush into the parking lot, but then I remember that I get to see the awesome parking dude with the parking stub and the warm greeting.

This morning he looked at me through the window and said with his beautiful accent:
"If I don't see you later, you have a BEAUTIFUL, WONderful Thanksgiving."
I have never heard a stronger wish for a happy Thanksgiving. He pulled out the most elaborate words he could think of with his second-language English, and each word was supported by his whole-hearted sincerity.

This man - who is barely more than a stranger - reminded me how really thankful I am.

I am thankful that I don't yet have a parking permit. I would be missing out if I didn't get to know the parking dude.

My grandma is 77. She could have been paralyzed, bed-ridden, or killed falling down those stairs. She is home with her husband who is taking really good care of her. She is alive and physically capable of healing. She also has this really cool-looking bump on her head. In fact, this is the second time this year she has escaped death (the first time being when she and my grandpa had carbon monoxide poisoning). God isn't done with her yet.

All summer long I had to deal with really crappy showers. I had 7 weeks of cold-water bucket baths, which really weren't that bad, but nice, hot, long showers are definitely my favorite. I shared a bathroom with up to 7 people, where taking longer than 5 minutes wasn't an option, and in Ghana and Manila, the feeling of being clean lasted for about 15 seconds because of the thick humidity... It is really nice to have a shower with running water, two bathrooms to share with my two housemates, and good old, dry, California weather.

I get to see my 13-year-old neighbor often. I hate what he is going through, but I am glad I am here. I am so grateful to be able to be in his life - and hopefully to help positively influence it. I have already been blessed by the short amount of time I have spent with his family, praying with them and listening to his mother when she needed to talk and cry.

My car is now almost 17 years old and it gets about 24 miles to the gallon on the street and 30+ miles to the gallon on the freeway. This car has treated me well and taken me thousands of miles. I am so thankful that I have such a reliable car and can afford the gas.

I LOVE my job. I work for the woman who's job I want as soon as I know what I'm doing (which will maybe be in 10 years or so). It took me over a month to find this job, and it was well worth the wait. I am never bored - being challenged with every project. My supervisor hands me work and then tells me that I probably won't know what I am doing. When I show her what I did and tell her I didn't know what to do with the rest, she thanks me for the work and then patiently explains everything. I have no clue what I am doing, but I am learning more than I thought I ever could.

Praise Jesus for soymilk.

there is SOOO MUCH to be thankful for.

so much.

My grandparents, neighbors, parking dude, home, car and coworkers have been huge blessings in my life - not to mention my parents, the rest of my family, my housemates, my friends, my mentors, etc.

What are you thankful for?

By the time most of you read this, I'm guessing it won't be Thanksgiving anymore, but thats okay.

I hope that it was BEAUTIFUL and WONderful.

the women at the salon

2006-11-13T00:25:00.000-08:00

I start my new job tomorrow.

In 8.5 hours to be exact.

And I can't sleep.

I think its the caffeine I had earlier today.

When I was in Kumasi, Ghana....
I had to get my hair braided. I wanted 100 little ones. There were about 5 salons along the street where I was living and I couldn't pass up the opportunity. My Ghanaian friend, Lydia, took me to the nearest salon and told the women what I wanted. Lots of little braids. They were amused. A red-headed white girl wanted to be like the Ghanaian women.

It was a slighlty awkward situation, but totally worth it. One of the women had gone to school through 4th grade so she knew about as much English as I know Spanish. She was excited to work with my strange hair and practice her English with me. She was extatic when I told her my Ghanaian "day name" was Akosua (pronounced Akossia, meaning I was born on a Sunday). Another woman came in who knew quite a lot of English and was extremely eager to show off her language abilities. Of course some of the kids came over to watch me get my hair braided. One of them was so scared of me that when she saw my face she started crying. They ended up having to take her home. haha.

This all happened in the first 45 minutes or so.

It took them 4 hours. four.

And most of the time there were at least three women simultaneously working on my hair.

After the excitement caused by a white girl being in the salon wore off they all started talking to each other in Twi (the local language). I became a fly on the wall, my head being pulled and tugged in all directions, my hair all over the place, my butt going numb. I just sat there watching them interact, making jokes (some most likely about me), discussing some seemingly boring things, some other clearly important things, and some random stuff. The kids kept running in and out, sometimes trying to convince the crying girl to come back. (That story ends happily: she became my friend.)

I think 5 women total worked on my hair. The total cost: 30,000 cedi, also known as $3.33.

5 women. 4 hours. 3 dollars.

I could almost not bare giving them so little. I was able to squeeze in a 10,000 cedi/$1 tip. Giving them more than that would have been insulting.

Spending those 4 hours watching them made me want to know them. I wanted to know what they were talking about, why they were laughing, why they were getting excited, why they sounded disappointed. I wanted to understand them. All I could do was give them 4 dollars.

I took some pictures with them. And I said "medase pa" ("thank you very much") over and over again. I said hello to them afterwards every time I walked by the salon. They were always there - every day - doing someone's hair.

Its 12am here which means its, I think, 9am in Ghana. You know what that means? They are probably in the salon right now: waiting for a customer, working on someone's hair, or talking about something really funny in Twi.

I start my job tomorrow, or today I guess. It took me about 6 weeks to find it and all I could find was a part-time position. But I am making way way way more than $3 every four hours. And I don't have to hope for business. I just have to fill in my time card. I even get to work where I want to work. In fact I was extremely picky when I looked for my job. Not only that, but I get to use the degree I was fortunate enough to obtain.

I miss those women in the hair salon and I pray that God blesses them with more business than they can handle this week.

I pray that I remember them when I begin to be ungrateful about my job, because I know I eventually will. I pray that I'll think about the time when I was sitting on their floor with my numb butt, watching them live their extremely difficult lives with hope, joy and love. I pray that I will think about the woman who had to leave school in the fourth grade to start working and supporting her family.

I pray that I will work joyfully for them just as they did for me.

3 continents, 6 countries, 4 months, and a lifetime of impressions

2006-10-22T12:56:00.000-07:00

Needless to say:

My summer of '06 was CRAZY.

From May 22nd to June 17th I ran around Europe with my wonderful friend Katie. From June 26th to July 26th I lived in Ghana, West Africa. From September 11th to the 29th I stayed in the slums of Manila in the Philippines.

And during my travels I found, discovered and experienced some crazy things:

In Germany I found my distant relatives, discovered a beautiful countryside, and experienced the German club scene.

In the Czech Republic I found a country trying to recover from the recent end of their communist government, I discovered the necessity of an umbrella, and I experienced, for better or worse, the strength of absinthe.

In France I found Van Gogh and Monet, discovered the beautiful combination of crepes and nutella, and experienced some true French hospitality, both good (thanks to Katie's friend) and bad (thanks to our sketchy hotel).

In Italy I found the rumor that Italian men are extremely sketchy to be extremely true, I discovered the bones of St. Peter in the Vatican, and I experienced directional confusion from being on the leaning tower of Pisa for too long.

In Ghana I found true beauty, discovered my deep love for Africa, and experienced genuine Ghanaian hospitality.

In the Philippines I found unconditional joy, discovered the pain of lacking, and experienced humility.

So now what.

What in the world do I do with this past summer? Do I take my memories, fold them up, and stuff them in the back pocket of my mind?

That would be a waste of a summer.

If you know me at all you probably (or hopefully) know that I hate blogs. I would rather talk to a person than have to remember to read his/her stupid online journal. Furthermore, if you know me you hopefully know that I don't even like to write. So let me explain to you why I am doing this.

When I was trying to figure out what to do with all of these experiences, I realized that there was something I wanted:

I want to be affected by this summer.

And so, I am starting this blog to remember and adjust accordingly.

Why use a blog to do this? A couple reasons:
1) You get to hear about wonderful, crazy, beautiful, strange, important people and experiences in my life, and
2) I get to remember them while I continue with my wonderful, crazy, beautiful, strange life.

I guess at first I will write mostly about the people I met this summer who I hope to never forget. But don't worry, my summer of '06 may have been my inspiration to start the blog, but I will be writing about much much more than just those past few months.