Saturday, March 26, 2011

How Are You? ... Not Fine.

You know, usually when I'm ultra pissed off and sulk and cry, I don't want any company. I don't want to be cheered up. And I don't want to look for a solution. I just want to be stubborn and cry. I realise I'm being unreasonable, but reasoning is last thing I want to do at times like this.

But there have been VERY rare cases when I did actually want somebody there with me. But I've grown so accustomed to pushing everyone away during these moments. How do you "go" to somebody. How do you take up on the offer "I'm here if you need me"? This is something I still haven't yet fully understood.

On a related note, I've heard so many times that even when our lives are in shambles, God is still awesome. I agreed with that most of the time (ie. when my life is feeling good). But when I was really near (or at) my lowest, I thought, "So? How does that help in any way? That's great God, you're perfect, good for you. Meanwhile, I'm still feeling like crap. Woop. Dee. Doo".

But then one night (tonight), I played "Beautiful One" by Tim Hughes (Jeremy Camp's version) and I realised, listening to this song, that even when I am down in the stinking metaphoric mud of sucky situations, HE'S STILL GOD. I found that no matter what happens, I still adore God for who he is and what he so lovingly did/does for me. I may sound a bit vague and cliche (perhaps preachy) right about now, but... I was surprised when I found that God being God puts joy in my heart. God, for no other reason but being his awesomely, loving and gracious self gave/gives me so much reason to absolutely love him.

There's this... freedom that comes from worshiping God from the pits.

I don't know how else to say it, but there is an amazing (amazing: inspiring awe or admiration or wonder) feeling that comes from pondering the vast greatness (oh there goes another overused adjective) of God.

I always thought when people said this, they were just trying to cover up their mess and pretend everything's okay. But that's not it (well, for me at least). It was acknowledging that there is mess, but more importantly than that, there is God. More importantly. There's time to sort yourself out later. Ask for counseling, talk to the right people... But first and foremost, there is God.

I have just come to realise this and thought I should share it before I forget it.

Oh, and one last thing, using words like 'awesome', and 'gracious' just doesn't do justice to what I'm trying to get across.
"Don't use words too big for the subject. Don't say "infinitely" when you mean "very"; otherwise you'll have no word left when you want to talk about something really infinite" - C.S Lewis

That's all I wanted to say for now.

Friday, March 25, 2011

How Was Camp?

So I just back from Biology Camp and I get asked "How was camp?" a lot. I get sick of that question after the first five times. I guess it's not other people's fault. It's a harmless question. They don't know that I'm over telling people why I liked and hated it at the same time and how I still miss it despite I complained so much about it. But please see it from my point of view, I don't wanna talk about it over, and over again. The stories get boring to me, then they'll be boring for you.

And after getting asked so many time, I start thinking about how many people actually want to know. Cos some people don't seem that interested in the details I provide. So after a while, I just say camp was good. I can't be bothered. Sorry.

I must say, I favourite part was hanging out with people. And none of them were my family.
 What a changes guy.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

[I Am] Yours Sincerely

One of my favourite things ever is sincerity. I love it. I love it when people say it how it is. Because when they do say nice things, I know it's true. Not just lip-service. 

Words Of Affirmation is my secondary love language and I still hear the words long after they're spoken. I think it's common for girls... right? Words mean so much to me. I don't like when people ask how I am just for formalities sake. I know, I'm just being an over-analytical douche and I should just calm down. Or maybe I don't need to. Maybe you should ask about my well-being when you care. How about that?

When God says nice things about/to me, I think to myself "yeah whatever, you say that EVERYBODY. Why should I consider it special? Why should I consider me special, if that's what you say about every Tom, Dick and Harry?" I asked God this because I was sick of hearing the same positive, encouraging words - it started sounding blasé...

Then He told me this: "I'm not a human".
Just like that. No blinding light streaming into my bedroom and a loud thundering voice speaking with "thou"s and "shan't"s. He just stated these words and let them sit there until the light bulb in my head flicked on.

And there was my mistake. I limited God. And by limited, I mean foolishly believed that he only had the capability of truly loving only a handful of people. I actually convinced myself that God couldn't possibly think that much and care that much about every single soul, including my own. But he does. Of course he does. He's God!

My parents unconditionally love my six siblings and I all the same. I have no doubt in the world about that. God's the same. Only, on a much larger scale. He can't just pick and choose between us humans. We're His. All of us. And he loves us the same. Him being God, that love is incredibly, indescribably, super massive.

His words are sincere. I finally understand in my heart that those words of love I come across in the Bible are so applicable to me. As much as it is to you. 


Saturday, March 19, 2011

Calling Elijah

I haven't listened to Calling Elijah for years! I came across their self titled debut EP (that we got that time they came to our church) and I was thinking "Hey! These guys!". So I put played them on the stereo last night and listened to them all night long. I fell asleep with them playing...

I only knew and liked two songs from them prior to last night. "Oblivious" and "Dear God" because those were the ones they preformed for us when they came. But I finally listened to the rest of their EP and I really like them!   I like their lyrics and their sound. Here's how they describe their style, "When you take gutsy rock vocals and punchy rap rhythms, and lay them over a blend of acoustic guitars, keyboards and percussion, you have that sound that is uniquely Calling Elijah."

My favourite song from them at the moment is "Silent Whispers"
"All the pain, you understand it all.
And I don't say a word and you don't seem to mind it,
You just wrap your arms around me, and we sit and talk in silence."

I really really like this EP. I wouldn't mind getting a hold of their other EP, titled "Inside Out".

"Calling Elijah is now finished....Thanks to everyone who has supported us in any way over the years... you are appreciated." 8:38 a.m. 5 Oct, 2009

What?! Bummer.

12:16 am - 12:37 am

What I'm gonna write has nothing to do with that, but I thought it'd be pretty cool to start with something wittty. Not to lighten the mood for a sad and serious topic, I just like witty things. 

I seem to think a lot lately about about my teachers. I don't think I've ever cared so much about them, but I seem to now. Then I started thinking about my past teachers. I even wrote a blog about one of my past primary teachers (that I'm still yet to publish). But teachers have been in my head a lot. Maybe it's because I care about my education more than ever, or maybe because they have such different personalities. Or maybe... I don't know. I really wanted to have a third "or maybe" point. Three is a good number for examples. Two just doesn't feel like enough. But four is too much. Like when writing essays. You should have three main points. For excellence. Well, it was like that for the previous years. I probably have to write more than that for NCEA Level Two. I got a certificate from school saying I got Level Two with Merit. Which is totally incorrect. It was supposed to say "Level One with Merit". But I just kept it because I don't wanna go to school and ask them to re-print me a certificate with the right number. Partly, because I don't think it matters THAT much. I was awarded and recognised for my efforts. I don't wanna ruin it with technical issues. And besides, it makes for a (slightly) funny story and it'll be pretty neat to show people. Although, it's not THAT funny of a story. I (accidently) told it twice to my cousin and she was so over it by the second time. I think she thinks it's a pretty lame story. Ooh, some admin person did a typo. Big Woop. I hate it when I tell people stories twice. It's embarassing because I'm so excited to share my happiness and they're just like "yeah yeah, I know. And then you were like "It's supposed to be level ONE not TWO. I know, you already told me". Then I'm just like "oh." Gone is the happiness. Then I rack my brain to think of something cool to say to redeem myself. But I almost never have something to say. Then there's an awkward silence. And nobody likes those. Then sometimes I just burst out laughing at how stink the situation is. Then they look at me like I'm a weirdo. Pftt.

I can't believe you read all of this. You must be as bored as I am. OR maybe you're just interested in what I had to say. OR maybe you were so engrossed at my words of wisdom that you just needed more. 
(see that, three.)

I need sleep.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Mayonaise Jar and Two Cups Of Coffee

I had this famous story (well, I think it's famous) forwarded to me in an email many years ago (I think about 5ish years ago). My sister, Donna, sent it to me and it's the most memorable forward I've ever got. I like it. Read it.

Here it is (I saved you the hassle of looking it up on Google): 


A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full.  They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things--your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions--and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.

The sand is everything else--the small stuff. "If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

"Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your  spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first--the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked.
It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

Monday, March 7, 2011

Awkward Silence

That's what my blog is currently experiencing. I've made 8 blog attempts since my last post but I can't finish them. They just remain 8 unfinished pieces of writing. I just don't know how to conclude my thoughts. I was talking with a friend the other day (last night) and he urged me to post something. So here it is. Something. I don't know where this post will lead but it will be spontaneous and I'll just post it! (Ooh look at me, living life at the edge!)

I don't use conditioner in my hair. Just shampoo. I found my hair feels really oily after conditioning it. But is just shampooing my hair bad for it?

I have this unexplainable affection towards a cat. I don't even like cats. But I really like this one. He sometimes sleeps on my bed then wakes me up at around 5 in the morning to pat and stroke him. I think one of the reasons I like him is that he always wants to stroked and physical touch being my primary love language - it works out for me. And he doesn't whine and gossip. He's just chill and sits there on my bed and sleeps. 

I have a friend who, if I don't talk to them for ages, when we are hanging out again, it's like we hung out just the day before. Even without text or facebook messaging each other - that connection was still there. It's like time stood still till we were united again (does that even make sense? Who cares, I'm being spontaneous remember?) And that's a friend that you don't let go of.

“Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things” I read this and laughed to myself. I read it again and laughed.

I wanted to write more but I'm just so tired and gonna have a nap now.