Lord!

Lord! Show me Your discipline! Be it in Your will and make use of me in Your kingdom.

mucho

 "If the head of the house has been called Beelzebul, how much more the members of his household!"
Matthew 10:24

Jesus, the most innocent of all, the most upright was called Beelzebul, the foulest, most repulsive name you can call anyone, the prince of devils. They called Jesus the prince of devils. Jesus. They called Jesus, who is our messiah, redeemer, Christ, son of God, prince of peace, the prince of devils. How wicked. How wrong. How terribly terribly wrong.

I've been called a lot of names, too, in my life: lesbian, freak, worthless, idiot, slut, whore, b-t-h. Why should I be surprised? No matter how upright I try to live my life, those not of the spirit of God will not cease. 

Jesus said, "Father forgive them for they do not know what they are doing." And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.
Luke 23:34

truly how much more can be expected of me when at my best of bestest I can only hope to be as good as Jesus. How much more. 

Yesua, I'm sorry for my generation that goes against you. Yesua, I'm sorry for the generation that crucified you, our Savior. Yesua, Yesua, Yesua.
Jesus, you're pretty awesome. I mucho love you. 

Not-yet-identified

So this post is mini-inspired by this guy on Facebook. In a lack of pretty words, he's like a Facebook status-whore. I mean that in the best possible way. Sometimes seeing his posts gets annoying just cause' some things mentioned are so personal or subjective, and it doesn't necessary portray Christ-like love like he intends. So he sometimes writes facebook status letters to his future wife, and that's really sweet. I wondered about praying for my future husband and writing to my not-yet-existent-husband. I wasn't sure if that fantasizing would be healthy for my heart, so I never really did it. And sometimes I wonder if God is gonna use me like how he uses those Christian women who are in their mid-thirties and still have never had their first kiss. I guess I lost my first kiss to a girl at a fear factor food challenge, and the next moment to a guy. Anyways, that's not really kiss though, so I'll say that one doesn't really really count.  It was pretty gross, bleh. Anyways anyways, a letter for my not-yet-identified-husband.
_____________________________________________________________________

Hi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've been waiting to meet you for as long as I can remember!!! I've mistook you for some other characters in my life before, but I'm sure you're a pretty cool guy if you're my husband. And I'm sure you were worth the wait and anguish. I guess there hasn't been serious anguish much at all, because God's protected me from a lot of that stuff. God's protected my heart.

Right now I'm at a stage where I really wish I knew who you were already. And almost every single-man in my life, I see him and I think that he can potentially be you! And that scares me. But most of the time when there's a guy, I try to avoid all possible ways of leading him on, because I want to wait for you.

Where ever you are, I hope that you're healthy. I hope that you're happy. I hope that you've surrendered your life to Jesus already. I hope that you're already experiencing the joy of having His sovereignty rule in your life. I wish the very best for you. And sometimes I wonder if you've ever lost pieces of your heart to other women in dating and stuff. It makes me sad to think that you might have given pieces of your heart to other women before me, while it feels like I'm just waiting for you so lame and helpless and Disney. But it's gonna' be ok. So I pray that God is protecting your heart too. I pray that you are my brother in Christ right now.

I can't wait to meet you in God's perfect timing. Maybe we've met already, but I can't wait to meet you as my husband. I really can't wait to meet you, but right now God's working on this ole' heart of mine. He's growing me before I get to meet you. I hope I can be a good wife. I hope my cooking will be better by then. I hope I would have gotten more mature by then. I hope I would have gotten wiser by then. I hope I can be the godliest woman I can be for you. I can't wait to know who you are, but for now I pray that you can be patient, too, trusting God's perfect timing.

Raw Sin

The other day, things got a the most tense it's ever been between me and my roommate. Our other roommate left and it's just been extremely draining (spiritually, mentally, emotionally) to think/talk/mention ANYTHING about our other roommate. I can't pin the issues all on any one person, and I can't say that I've been blameless during this whole entire experience, but the other day I just felt pushed so hard. I felt like I was my dad, the way my mom suffocated him with her words. "I wish I never married you. You're scum. You're useless. You can't stand up for yourself, you can't stand up for me, you can't stand up for your kids, you piece of shhh" Ok she never really said "piece of shhh", but sometimes you don't need to explicitly say the words to bring up the same emotions if not worse

"You can't stand up for yourself. All you do is say, 'It's ok baby, I'm here." FAWE@%#$&!!!! I hate, I ABHOR  I DESPISE that freakin damn voice she uses to mock me. I haven't longed to curse so bad since Beechpoint when someone was trying to put me down mentally for not being well-versed in the Bible. My flesh is so raw. All I really did was raise my voice for maybe 5 words, and it was so unexpected for the both of us. "What did you say? You mean that to me?," she said. What does she friggin' want me to do? Flip some damn tables? Slap our old roommate? Verbally destroy her and ban her from all church activities?  Freaaaaaaaaaaaaaak! If she wants ungodliness from me, it's here. Lord, I'm dying. Save this f-ed up heart again that's back at square 1.

Perfect Plan Perfect Pace

Whatever you want to do with me God, do it. Whatever you want for me God, let it be, let it happen.

The other week I was feeling impatient about the topic of singleness, my singleness. Almost twenty and still haven't yet, but still I am so so so so SO glad God shielded me from the mess that could've been. So one weekend, as we were gliding along the roads circling the hills, I was looking through the sunroof in the car. I was enjoying the breeze softly caressing my head and my hair running wild in the air like spilled ink.

"God, I want what you want for me. I want what you have prepared for me. Because you know all my needs. What you have intended for me, is all I want," I thought to myself. "If that's really what I want, then why am I so impatient? Why am I so doubtful? Why am I shaming my Father's name with my lack of faith? If I really want God's will, then I should be more patient, more faithful, more at peace." So God, I will be patient. I will be content. Because God, you know me better than anyone else knows me. God knows what I need. So I can trust that His plans are far better than mine. So I will be faithful. Lord, I will walk at your pace. Not that your pace is slow, but because your pace is perfect.

Every moment of every second

I think I'm still soaking it all in. All the hell that I've been going through because I've been trying to finish up this flight class from May, this license I've been working on since August 2011. I got it today! It's mine. It was completely grace. God's grace and the check airmen's grace. I knew the odds of me passing were slimmer than slim jim, slimmer than a piece of angel hair. In one of my many emotion breakdowns from the stress of this course, I cried out, "I thought the odds of me passing this course was maybe 10 or 20%, but actually the chances are zero, none. Absolutely none. I can't pass if my maneuvers are not to standards, and only one of all my maneuver was to standards the last time I flew." I didn't even practice short field landings since May! I couldn't even get my soft field landings to flare. Hell, even my normal landings were questionable. But that flight, my landings were beautiful. I'm not sure if the instructor helped me land, but I don't think so. It always feels like someone else is on the controls with your feet for some reason. My gosh, my biggest fear: Short-field landing. Upon touchdown of the main wheels, within maybe 2-3 seconds you apply breaks, flaps up, apply back pressure. I can't even describe how freakin' awesome my short field landing was. What the heck. Every single landing, the flare, the part I struggled with the most wasn't even the slightest problem today. My God in heaven who is almighty today and everyday.

After the check airmen passed me by his great grace and mercy I ran up the stairs to my 201A flight instructor who is my 200 ground instructor this year. My eyes were tearing up when I knocked on his door, but no answer. Then down the hall I saw my current instructor. Ah, I just couldn't hold it. I cried my little eyes out. How much I wanted a hug then, from anyone. I didn't even mind personal space at that moment, but I didn't ask for one, nor did I get one. But I just cried and gasped and smiled and cried and laughed. I took a breather outside and prayed and called my dad and tried calling some other people. Then I cried another time to someone else just by pure joy and pure I DON'T KNOW!!! Finally.. the sweetest part of my day. I waited for him after class, and showed him my private pilot wings. We went to his room to get my gift. I knew he hung a tshirt of my face in his office on the day that I had my first solo. The school was doing this new thing celebrating aviation milestones of the students in their program and putting a picture of the student and the plane online, He handed me a package and told me to open it. I opened it, it was pictures I posed for the website that he took after I landed on my first solo, I thought. I looked through more and more, and there was a picture of an airplane. And another picture of a take off. And another picture of a plane taxiing. And another picture of a plane in the sky. "What do you think, Tori?"
"I had no idea," I cried my heart out. He was there watching me the whole time. And he showed me the back of the t-shirt that I never got to see. "Don't give up on me, Mr. T" I told him that during one of our flights together, teary-eyed and feeling worthless and pathetic.

The experience getting my private pilot felt like hell, especially since March after getting lost and sqwaking 7700. I went through so many emotional explosions and I put myself through so much crap because I was drowning in self-pity, in guilt. "I feel stuck." If anything this experience made my passion for this career take root. I won't be blown over so easily. I am still not 100% sure what aviation will be for me in the future, but for now I feel confident that God says I can continue my flight training.

God was in control this whole entire time.  I went through all that, where I could've doubted and questioned where was God's love and mercy. Every moment of every second, he was there. He taught me so much more through the extra three months it took me to finish this course, the extra $4,000. Haha. But I trust in my God today. I trust in Him forever.

For Joy

I need some cliff to scream on.