Slight bitterness creeps in this evening. I'm bitter because I'm in mourning. I've started the process of mourning yet another move in life, another period of transition, another callous on my ever broken and healing heart. Whoever thought the quote posted to the left about a broken heart was a good idea...okay well me...but really!? Really?!? I was talking/writing to God last night and I shared with him my current heartache and countless broken bits that line the road of my life, strewn about the globe here and there. That's the only reason I can be so blunt here is because I already laid it all bare with my Savior who has enough grace and mercy to allow me to mourn and curse the day I picked that as a favorite quote. He knows deep down I am thankful. He sees through my bruised exterior to the soft pulp of a heart that still is beating and transmitting His love flow as it was made and called to do. Yes, at times my heart feels fragile like a china doll (never really knew what a china doll was, just know they are fragile). Especially when I have to leave people who have blessed me with their words, their hugs and kisses, their smiles and acknowledgment of the fact that we share the same God and Savior Jesus Christ and are inhabited by the Holy Spirit who speaks all languages and speaks to my heart through them. But then I'm reminded that the great Healer arranged it all and will continue to take care of them and me. He will once again give me the strength to put my heart out there, knowing I will never get that piece back and I hope I don't. I would rather share it and have known such amazing hermanos en Cristo than to have not been given the chance encounters. Thank you Lord. Todo alabanza y gloria a Dios.
Dios te Bendiga
Monday, November 23, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
98
quick word association game
98 degrees boy band
98.6 degrees Fahrenheit
98 one less than 99
98 bottles of fanta on the wall
98 ways to pick your nose
98 "NY152...152...152 people who thinks he looks like clark gable...152 people who thinks he looks like a clark bar"
*if you can name that movie you either are awesome or have lived with me for many years and were therefore forced to watch it approximately 98 times
Fun times, well, the real 98 came up because this is my 98th post on this here blog and we're gonna celebrate. Why wait till 100, that's what everyone celebrates, the century mark. Dori here is an innovator; she's two steps ahead of the crowd. She's...well, she's special:)
Really, I just didn't want to give up and go to bed...it's funny babies do the same thing. They get all whiny and fussy and their eyes are so heavy they can barely keep them open; yet, they fight off sleep like it's trying to get a bite of their chocolate cake. (I know babies can't eat cake, but it's an analogy) Me, whiny, fussy, no way! I simply fight through, curl up on the couch, sit with a book or in this case computer and go until my better judgement gets ahold of me. Yeah, so my eyelids get heavy and I can barely keep them open, but apparently I look like that some days anyway so what's the difference...the difference I tell you is in my voice. That's the tell tale sign. I can never fake it. My man voice comes out past the hour of 11 or 12 and doesn't go away until I've been up for approximately 1 hr and had my Jesus breakfast date. Let's be honest, it's not pretty before then. Don't worry I warn roommates of this phenomenon and I'll probably have to give the Africa group a heads up too, though on trips and in the not everyday routine it's not as bad.
Well, now that you know, good night. The eye lids are winning.
98 degrees boy band
98.6 degrees Fahrenheit
98 one less than 99
98 bottles of fanta on the wall
98 ways to pick your nose
98 "NY152...152...152 people who thinks he looks like clark gable...152 people who thinks he looks like a clark bar"
*if you can name that movie you either are awesome or have lived with me for many years and were therefore forced to watch it approximately 98 times
Fun times, well, the real 98 came up because this is my 98th post on this here blog and we're gonna celebrate. Why wait till 100, that's what everyone celebrates, the century mark. Dori here is an innovator; she's two steps ahead of the crowd. She's...well, she's special:)
Really, I just didn't want to give up and go to bed...it's funny babies do the same thing. They get all whiny and fussy and their eyes are so heavy they can barely keep them open; yet, they fight off sleep like it's trying to get a bite of their chocolate cake. (I know babies can't eat cake, but it's an analogy) Me, whiny, fussy, no way! I simply fight through, curl up on the couch, sit with a book or in this case computer and go until my better judgement gets ahold of me. Yeah, so my eyelids get heavy and I can barely keep them open, but apparently I look like that some days anyway so what's the difference...the difference I tell you is in my voice. That's the tell tale sign. I can never fake it. My man voice comes out past the hour of 11 or 12 and doesn't go away until I've been up for approximately 1 hr and had my Jesus breakfast date. Let's be honest, it's not pretty before then. Don't worry I warn roommates of this phenomenon and I'll probably have to give the Africa group a heads up too, though on trips and in the not everyday routine it's not as bad.
Well, now that you know, good night. The eye lids are winning.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Thought of the Day
Two big words hit me this weekend
Content
Hidden
It took reading through Colossians 3 about 33 times before I was ready to dig deep and let God open my eyes and heart to hear what he had to say. To let him reveal the big lesson of the day. Read it, it's good stuff. I am hidden with Christ in God.
It took less read throughs of Philippians 4:11-13 and Heb 13:5 to speak directly to being content. I am striving to learn the secret that Paul talks about.
Read em, read em again. Listen, go about your day, read em again the next day. and again as long as it takes for as my roommate shared last night he wants us to search it out per Proverbs 25:2 "It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings."
Content
Hidden
It took reading through Colossians 3 about 33 times before I was ready to dig deep and let God open my eyes and heart to hear what he had to say. To let him reveal the big lesson of the day. Read it, it's good stuff. I am hidden with Christ in God.
It took less read throughs of Philippians 4:11-13 and Heb 13:5 to speak directly to being content. I am striving to learn the secret that Paul talks about.
Read em, read em again. Listen, go about your day, read em again the next day. and again as long as it takes for as my roommate shared last night he wants us to search it out per Proverbs 25:2 "It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings."
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Not so alone after all
Yes, there are times I feel very alone. the lone ranger, rambo, the virgin mary...all people who struck out one their own. okay, okay, mary maybe not so much as the other two, but she was the first female that came to mind. and let's be honest the lone ranger had tonto as a side kick. Mighty Mouse, now there's a character I can get behind. but after doing my research (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mighty_Mouse)
it turns out he had two girlfriend mouses that he routinely had to save, one in his comic form and one on tv...a little shady, but since he is the mouse equivalent to Superman, and a mouse at that, I spose we can let that one slide for now.
but why these nomadic characters you ask...because they on first glance are alone. I can relate at times, my nomadic lifestyle these days has me pondering the deeper side of life, especially after a full day of class with The Sage of PT as we will call him, who gave us the "graduation speech" which is basically advice on how to deal with life once we graduate.
So, yes I do feel alone at times, welcome to life on earth huh, when we are made for eternity and not earth. Rough. But nothing a couple $1 tacos, half price margarita, and quality bonding time with my friend Margarit (totally fake name, but she speaks spanish, we were sung to in Spanish, eating tacos...it fit) won't fix.
Basically, it comes down to we have a lot in common. We had our life plans in college, that changed, we adjusted ages, looked to grad school, now that's about done, the quarter life is here, plans need adjusted once again. We love to be independent, we love to speak Spanish, we love the prospect of being PTs, we have alot in common like I said. All that stated, we are very different, she spells her name with an extra letter, I like to break my hand while I don't know of her doing that yet...yes, very different.
It was nice. It was a great affirmation of how good God is to place people in our lives that can identify with exactly where you are at. It was a blessing to uphold the Thursday after class new founded tradition (three weeks strong) of Adobo with just her, well and Alejandro my serenading middle aged love.
Yep, God's got this whole life thing under control...I mean, he's got even cooler powers than Mighty Mouse and that's saying a lot b/c that little mouse not only can fly, have x-ray vision, and ward off angry Satan cats...oh no, he can even turn back time (at least that's what wikipedia says)
it turns out he had two girlfriend mouses that he routinely had to save, one in his comic form and one on tv...a little shady, but since he is the mouse equivalent to Superman, and a mouse at that, I spose we can let that one slide for now.
but why these nomadic characters you ask...because they on first glance are alone. I can relate at times, my nomadic lifestyle these days has me pondering the deeper side of life, especially after a full day of class with The Sage of PT as we will call him, who gave us the "graduation speech" which is basically advice on how to deal with life once we graduate.
So, yes I do feel alone at times, welcome to life on earth huh, when we are made for eternity and not earth. Rough. But nothing a couple $1 tacos, half price margarita, and quality bonding time with my friend Margarit (totally fake name, but she speaks spanish, we were sung to in Spanish, eating tacos...it fit) won't fix.
Basically, it comes down to we have a lot in common. We had our life plans in college, that changed, we adjusted ages, looked to grad school, now that's about done, the quarter life is here, plans need adjusted once again. We love to be independent, we love to speak Spanish, we love the prospect of being PTs, we have alot in common like I said. All that stated, we are very different, she spells her name with an extra letter, I like to break my hand while I don't know of her doing that yet...yes, very different.
It was nice. It was a great affirmation of how good God is to place people in our lives that can identify with exactly where you are at. It was a blessing to uphold the Thursday after class new founded tradition (three weeks strong) of Adobo with just her, well and Alejandro my serenading middle aged love.
Yep, God's got this whole life thing under control...I mean, he's got even cooler powers than Mighty Mouse and that's saying a lot b/c that little mouse not only can fly, have x-ray vision, and ward off angry Satan cats...oh no, he can even turn back time (at least that's what wikipedia says)
Sunday, November 8, 2009
High standards
I have not been one to reflect much on what I've typed on these here keys long after I've completed typing them. For instance, proof-reading...torture. I wrote it, it made sense in my head, why would I want to read my own writing, especially when it is not something I necessarily wanted to write in the first place. That's mostly school related, but the same goes for other things i've realized...like this blog, there's no proof reading, editing, etc...if mistakes exist then consider it adding to the flavor of the piece.
I will hypocritically recant on the previous statement and say that if enough time passes I will on occasion be forced, or by chance read a work I've done and either find it slightly appealing or rather suprising how many spots don't really make sence. I spose that means your english teachers are right when they tell you it is a good idea to proof read huh?...well, okay, either way I think the rules should read once a paper is written it should not be read again by the writer until at least enough time has passed for the proposed author to forget all that was written. Is there a second?
Well, here it is Sunday evening...episodes of Gilmore Girls fill in the dark silence. Dark because it gets dark outside so freaking early.
Can i tell you how I have come to thoroughly love my Sundays? Possessive yes because it is my day of rest. My day of rest and day to enjoy worshipping God at church, in my pajamas, enjoying leisurely reading, time with friends (all not at once, especially pajamas at church, though I don't think God would mind if it did happen). I almost get possessive to the point of selfish. My one day to be introverted (relatively as I still get plenty of hugs and interaction at la iglesia) and alone and not plan. I find if my plan of not planning gets interupted then I get a little fussy. Is that an oxymoron? Is it bad? maybe. I get over it. I deal. I squalsh the planning attempts. (squalsh, good word). Either way that's how it goes. And here i go
I will hypocritically recant on the previous statement and say that if enough time passes I will on occasion be forced, or by chance read a work I've done and either find it slightly appealing or rather suprising how many spots don't really make sence. I spose that means your english teachers are right when they tell you it is a good idea to proof read huh?...well, okay, either way I think the rules should read once a paper is written it should not be read again by the writer until at least enough time has passed for the proposed author to forget all that was written. Is there a second?
Well, here it is Sunday evening...episodes of Gilmore Girls fill in the dark silence. Dark because it gets dark outside so freaking early.
Can i tell you how I have come to thoroughly love my Sundays? Possessive yes because it is my day of rest. My day of rest and day to enjoy worshipping God at church, in my pajamas, enjoying leisurely reading, time with friends (all not at once, especially pajamas at church, though I don't think God would mind if it did happen). I almost get possessive to the point of selfish. My one day to be introverted (relatively as I still get plenty of hugs and interaction at la iglesia) and alone and not plan. I find if my plan of not planning gets interupted then I get a little fussy. Is that an oxymoron? Is it bad? maybe. I get over it. I deal. I squalsh the planning attempts. (squalsh, good word). Either way that's how it goes. And here i go
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