Most of the time I have no clue as to where I'm going. It frustrates me, not knowing where I'm heading to. Troughout my life I've always had a plan. In any given time of my life, if you sat down with me and asked me about my future, I could very well spend the next three hours telling you how I was going to:
(not in a particular chronological order)
- Stop Eve from eating the apple and visit Jonas inside the whale... all with the help of a time machine I was convinced I would be able to invent
- Be an embassador in the UN and finally allow world peace to happen
- Be a novelist and write the next all-american/mexican novel
- Be a journalist and win two million pulitzer prizes
- Be a filmmaker and screen my movie at sundance, and who knows? maybe win an oscar
- Be a lawyer and defend the defendless
- Be an architect and build the eight wonder of the world
- Be a kindergarden teacher and shape really young minds
- Be a college professor and shape not so young minds
- Give the weather report and know how to use a barometer
- Broadcast the news and win everyone over with my personality
- Edit a newspaper and a magazine, because I'm cool like that
- Be a photographer and actually have money because of it
- Being a missionary in China smuggling Bibles through what I believed were real "underground" churches
...
I seriously would never finish this list if I could actually remember everything I've wanted to do...
But as it turns out, every time I thought I had my life all planned out, all the way down to the last dot, God would leave me planless... and there I was again, walking through roads I never quite fully understood.
Don't take this the wrong way. It's actually a good thing that God leaves me planless every time. He gives me a chance to do what I was made to do...
thinking about it gets me exited. The Bible says that God has things planned for me that even I have not imagined... and as you can see in my list above, I've imagined pretty amazing things for just one person... can you even begin to TRY and imagine where He's taking me? I know I can't, and every time I do, He'll just top me with something a bajillion times better.
on a completely different note.
This year was a hard year. It started off with a prayer that I remember like I prayed it yesterday... I asked God that this year be my year... All I know is that this year I came to harsh and truthfull realizations about myself. I saw things very differently, and it did not go as well as I had planned it to go... but then again, remember how my plans are never the one's He has... but still, I can hardly wait for the next year to get my real life going. My supernatural life.
Someone told me I had lost my faith...
Someone said I was kind of a fatalist...
My God says His mercies are new every morning...
But yeah, those three things are true. But this next year, you just wait and see... this next year will BE my year. I declare it over me, and I'm immortalizing it by publishing it online.
This next year I will grow older and younger. I will grow older and wiser in understanding and revelation of my Beloved. I will grow younger and naïver in my heart.
This next year I will be ready to face myself. I will recognize my areas of strenght and weakness. I will confront myself with the reality of me and be humble as to know I am not perfect.
This next year I will learn to love myself. I will take care of my body, my mind, my eyes, my hands and my spirit. Then I will be able to love others in the way I love myself.
This next year I will learn to honor those who honor deserve. I will respect my authorities and my peers. I will listen not only with my ears but with my heart.
This next year I will let go of my pride. I will quiet when I have nothing to say. I will speak when it is wise to do so. I will not see others below me, but set myself under everyone, serving with love and devotion.
This next year I will believe. I will know His word and live by it with my spirit, even when my soul does not want to believe it.
This next year I will dream. I will speak words of encouragement onto my own life and those around me.
This next year I will love. I will give myself to others the way He gave His life for me. I will aquire deeper revelation of His passion for me and love others like He has me.
This next year is a year of victory, of maturity and understanding.
It is a year of fire, perseverance and faithfulness.
A year of dancing in the river of His delight.
This next year is going to be His year in me.
....
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
broken glass in my arm
My car window got smashed today... and my iPod got stolen.
The whole event was kind of surreal. When they first told me they had smashed my window I thought they maybe hit it and it was cracked or something. Never in my life would I have thought that they had actually stolen something from me. As I was walking towards the car, right by the girls bathroom It felt like I was starting to panick. I lifted my hands and combed my hair back while inhaling for dear life... a couple steps later the feeling was gone, and I distinctly remember having a smile on my face.
I finally got to where my car was. A couple friends were there staring at the remains of my car window. I walked up to the car and immediately looked to the back seat, because I knew I had so much stuff in the back seat that even I would've stolen it... but everything was there. My next impulse made me stare right at the little black bag where I keep my iPod, which was empty. It always is, I just leave it there so the back of the iPod won't get scratches... But still, my iPod wasn't on top of it. Right there I knew, inside of me, that my iPod was gone. However I still checked the chord to see if it was still attached to the iTrip. My guts kidded me not when I felt that my iPod was missing: The chord had been finely cut by a cutting thingy that made the stealing appeal so simple... except for the whole bursting my window into a hundred million little pieces of broken glass, one of which found it's way into my right arm.
The little piece of glass that cut me (it's not even a cut, it's just a weird bumpy thingy that hurts a bit) was probably the size of half a grain of sand... and writing about it now makes me realize that even the littlest things can hurt you.
After all those very lovely realizations, I was still not panicking. I was calm, and that smile I was telling you about still seemed to be hanging around my face.
I called my mom. Then my dad. Then cleaned the whole mess up... kinda. Now I have a broken window, and a stolen iPod.
But never once did I feel bad during the whole experience, not even when my parents were scolding me for not hiding my stuff in the car and being so irresponsible and etc. etc.
I can't help but wonder if it did bother me but I didn't show it... but after all the stress I've been going through these past weeks, it certainly didn't feel like it did bother me... I was calm. Relaxed. Even felt like I was enjoying the whole debacle at some points (just don't tell either of my parents).
However, I think the best part of my day was climbing on the highest part of the ladder and not feeling like I was going to fall.. Seriously, y'all should do that sometime soon. I know for sure, that I'm gonna do it again tomorrow... except I don't have a window to break this time... which is actually good, because tomorrow, I have nothing left to loose.
The whole event was kind of surreal. When they first told me they had smashed my window I thought they maybe hit it and it was cracked or something. Never in my life would I have thought that they had actually stolen something from me. As I was walking towards the car, right by the girls bathroom It felt like I was starting to panick. I lifted my hands and combed my hair back while inhaling for dear life... a couple steps later the feeling was gone, and I distinctly remember having a smile on my face.
I finally got to where my car was. A couple friends were there staring at the remains of my car window. I walked up to the car and immediately looked to the back seat, because I knew I had so much stuff in the back seat that even I would've stolen it... but everything was there. My next impulse made me stare right at the little black bag where I keep my iPod, which was empty. It always is, I just leave it there so the back of the iPod won't get scratches... But still, my iPod wasn't on top of it. Right there I knew, inside of me, that my iPod was gone. However I still checked the chord to see if it was still attached to the iTrip. My guts kidded me not when I felt that my iPod was missing: The chord had been finely cut by a cutting thingy that made the stealing appeal so simple... except for the whole bursting my window into a hundred million little pieces of broken glass, one of which found it's way into my right arm.
The little piece of glass that cut me (it's not even a cut, it's just a weird bumpy thingy that hurts a bit) was probably the size of half a grain of sand... and writing about it now makes me realize that even the littlest things can hurt you.
After all those very lovely realizations, I was still not panicking. I was calm, and that smile I was telling you about still seemed to be hanging around my face.
I called my mom. Then my dad. Then cleaned the whole mess up... kinda. Now I have a broken window, and a stolen iPod.
But never once did I feel bad during the whole experience, not even when my parents were scolding me for not hiding my stuff in the car and being so irresponsible and etc. etc.
I can't help but wonder if it did bother me but I didn't show it... but after all the stress I've been going through these past weeks, it certainly didn't feel like it did bother me... I was calm. Relaxed. Even felt like I was enjoying the whole debacle at some points (just don't tell either of my parents).
However, I think the best part of my day was climbing on the highest part of the ladder and not feeling like I was going to fall.. Seriously, y'all should do that sometime soon. I know for sure, that I'm gonna do it again tomorrow... except I don't have a window to break this time... which is actually good, because tomorrow, I have nothing left to loose.
Monday, December 11, 2006
I'm swearing off 007's...
I never thought watching a movie could break my heart. Much less a stupid James Bond movie.
If you haven't seen Casino Royale, don't read this, because there are spoilers.
She tried to make sense out of what had happened all the way back from the theater, but my heart didn't care about the sense the movie could make. I still wanted to cry. I still am crying.
Someone please explain to me why I am crying for a stupid STUPID STUPID!!!!!!!! James Bond movie... I certainly don't understand.
When I saw his expression on the screen, damn good actor I might say, I got blown away. Freaking blown away. I started shaking, not that I'll ever admit to it. My heart started pounding faster, my eyes began to water. My head hurt so bad trying to keep it all inside.
I know it's just a story. Just a story I tell myself. But the hurt still exists. If not for the loss of Bond, for the cracks in my own heart.
If I try to reason this out, it goes something like this:
Bond represents stone turned hearts everywhere. In me, in you, in everyone that's ever been bruised. Something made its way through the cold cement walls and began warming up whatever was left of the beat inside... But then, once the security and comfort settled in, what began as a joyous warming ran back outside like a sprinting lion, tearing down the walls as it found its way into the light. Breaking the heart all over again. Not only exposing the half burned muscle, but leaving it in a way that there's no possibility of reconstruction, even when the walls are build up once again.
It was not fair, but life is not fair, cliché very much intended.
So then, does it mean I can cry?
Yes.
But not because I cannot detach myself from the screen once set in front of me... I've always been good at letting go of movies, ask those who think they know me....
However, I wasn't good at that tonight. Even though I tried, I could not separate my own heart from Bond's... it broke, and the pieces fell and got shattered all over the ground... But unlike Bond, my heart has the opportunity for healing... and you know what else? It hurts me that there are people that don't get that opportunity.
I can because basically there's no escaping this. This time I'm letting it hurt, if not for the medicinal purposes HE's been guiding me through these past few days, because I really have no other option.
So be it, I tell myself... let us all weep blood tonight, not from the deceiving eye, but from the wounded, crimson heart, welcoming the healing.
If you haven't seen Casino Royale, don't read this, because there are spoilers.
She tried to make sense out of what had happened all the way back from the theater, but my heart didn't care about the sense the movie could make. I still wanted to cry. I still am crying.
Someone please explain to me why I am crying for a stupid STUPID STUPID!!!!!!!! James Bond movie... I certainly don't understand.
When I saw his expression on the screen, damn good actor I might say, I got blown away. Freaking blown away. I started shaking, not that I'll ever admit to it. My heart started pounding faster, my eyes began to water. My head hurt so bad trying to keep it all inside.
I know it's just a story. Just a story I tell myself. But the hurt still exists. If not for the loss of Bond, for the cracks in my own heart.
If I try to reason this out, it goes something like this:
Bond represents stone turned hearts everywhere. In me, in you, in everyone that's ever been bruised. Something made its way through the cold cement walls and began warming up whatever was left of the beat inside... But then, once the security and comfort settled in, what began as a joyous warming ran back outside like a sprinting lion, tearing down the walls as it found its way into the light. Breaking the heart all over again. Not only exposing the half burned muscle, but leaving it in a way that there's no possibility of reconstruction, even when the walls are build up once again.
It was not fair, but life is not fair, cliché very much intended.
So then, does it mean I can cry?
Yes.
But not because I cannot detach myself from the screen once set in front of me... I've always been good at letting go of movies, ask those who think they know me....
However, I wasn't good at that tonight. Even though I tried, I could not separate my own heart from Bond's... it broke, and the pieces fell and got shattered all over the ground... But unlike Bond, my heart has the opportunity for healing... and you know what else? It hurts me that there are people that don't get that opportunity.
I can because basically there's no escaping this. This time I'm letting it hurt, if not for the medicinal purposes HE's been guiding me through these past few days, because I really have no other option.
So be it, I tell myself... let us all weep blood tonight, not from the deceiving eye, but from the wounded, crimson heart, welcoming the healing.
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