Nightmare awake

I wonder if this is what's meant to be for the rest of my life, living in white culture, being different, being a minority, being extra sensitive to certain things.

I feel like I'm witnessing a murder in a busy hall and I'm screaming and no one is looking, no one is stopping, no one is responding, no one is doing anything. They don't see it. They claim they can't because they're different. No one sees anything. It's like I'm screaming in an empty room of people. I feel like the one getting murdered. People I know, people I love are just walking by and going on their way. God, right now, at this temporary moment, I hate this people. I hate this people that I am a part of. I hate it. I hate it. How can they

Lord, my heart is pestered, my heart is annoyed, my heart is sad.

There was a girl who said something unintentionally incredibly offensive and racist and so freaking ignorant I wanted to call her out on what the freakin crap bullpoop freak poop she was saying. God, there was so much freakin damn ignorance. But I am no judge. I look back at myself and my transgressions, how can I keep angry? how can I ask for justice? What ignorance for me to speak of justice.

girls. girls. girls. girls. girls. Why, Lord? Why are we this way? So full of ourselves, so ignorant, so obnoxious, so pathetic? Why are we so far from your image?

All the time in the world

If I had all the time in the world, I would write each of my friends a book about how special they were and how loved they were by God. If I had to point at what my heart loves most, it's either babies or trying to take pain away from people. When I was really young I used to think a lot, because I was alone a lot. I used to think about people who were in the hospitals, people in opposite parts of the earth and how they might be hurting right now and at that moment. How one person might be experiencing an unimaginable amount of pain. I didn't know God yet, but I prayed that some of that person's pain could be relieved onto me. Whoever it was, so that the person might hurt less. Then I thought, today might be someone's birthday. Today might be someone's happiest day of life; today might be someone else's most painful day. I prayed that something would help the hurting people. And when I hurt, when I had stomach aches which brought tears to my eyes, I wondered if that was what I had asked. 'Am I relieving someone else's pain?'

Lord, renew my heart and let me overflow with Jesus.

That first time I led worship, oh how desperate they were to have asked me, but still thankful.

PEACE.

This semester. A missions trip. A four month lag to completing a class. A broken car. A desperate search for a third roommate. A lack of work hours

This semester my parents paid for all the remaining of my tuition. My dad just talked to me over the phone yesterday and he wanted to send me money to pay for.. practically the rest of the rent until the lease is over. "Stop it," I said, "You don't have to do that." I recently learned about love languages, and I realize that my parents show love by giving me things and providing for me. They don't give hugs. They don't say nice things. They don't necessarily make dates with us besides for meals. If I take away my need for them, I take away the way they know how to display love for me. Last semester and this semester, I chose hunger before I would ask for help. It's my pride, my worthless pride.

this month

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. ~ James 1:2-3

Want

As I lay here in the dark, staring at my desk across the room I notice all the shadows of the little trinkets overwhelming the surface. 'Gosh, I am so rich,' I thought to myself. God has blessed me so much. Although if anyone saw the little stuff I collected-- burnt out light bulbs, box tops for my church back home, ducky shower cap, 3D glasses, towels from Aeromexico, Rhema booklets, one yellow plastic glove, etc-- they may seem like garbage. But my little mess. I am so wealthy. What more could I want?

I want to buy a flute so I can practice again. It's been four years, but I still remember most of the notes. My favorite was F for some reason.

I want to buy a camera. It can be a very humble digital camera. I learned from that little 3.0 megapixel canon in high school that it's not really up to the photographer to take a beautiful picture. The beautiful picture is already there! All the time.

I want to buy two more wii motes for my wii console so the maximum number of people can play.

I want some business-y shoes (to match my fancy pants) I can wear to the airport since my oxfords broke.

I want some kind of dresser to put my clothes in so they don't have to still sit in my suitcase.

I want a simple life.. wouldn't it be sweet? I can take a simple and humble job. Come home in the afternoon to play some music. Live in a small and humble home with a God-fearing husband and children who have the freedom to chase after their dreams. Maybe that's just madness. I guess so. Who would ever want that.

But God's plan is always better, and most usually more challenging and convicting and way out of our comfort zones.