A Walk Through Memory Lane Pt. Nightmares

This weekend was like a blast of the past. I got home late from camp, and after getting cleaned up, I chatted with my mom. There is a terrible and dark nightmare that my mom has. Sometimes when she couldn't get the nightmare out of her mind, she would tell sis and me about it. Bits and pieces of the nightmare would haunt her in many occasions, slowly creeping into the fore thoughts of her subconscious. They were slyish lies that wrung so tightly around her soul, trying to suffocate and break her. The nightmare was actually not a dream; it was her life for many years. The neglect, the abuse, the cursing, the displeasure, the pain, the chaos,  even the time we met face to face with the point of no return. As we got older and more rude, whenever my mom would begin to tell us of the nightmare, sis and I would get impatient and tell her to forgive, forget, and move on. While her children told her to shut up, some called her a liar and many worse things, warping the truth and crushing her spirit.

Last night, mom told me parts of the nightmare again. She gave me a disclaimer that while she is not trying to hold a grudge against what the people have done to her, the nightmare was a part of her life that she couldn't ignore. This time the nightmare was different. I realized, the nightmare of her past has become her testimony. It is no longer chaining her down. The curse is broken. The redeeming good news of Jesus rendered those lies powerless. Her nightmare is no longer a nightmare, now, it is a testament to God's glory, God's good purposes.

As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.     Genesis 50:20

Lord, cover my eyes and let them rest. Lord, close my wounds and let them heal. Lord, lift my feet and let them stand.

Dry Spell

For three weeks, after my very short missions trip to St. Louis, where I "encountered" God everyday in study, quiet time, service, worship, and just about every moment, I was in a season of utter "Bleh." Back to reality, like the Eminem song. Oh, there goes gravity. Numbness, again, because I fear that any abrupt movement might tear my fetal heart.  So I stay still, very still. Routinely going about the day. Sleepless nights, wakeless days. Sitting in class, looking forward to the light buzz I'll find at home to ease my nothing. Sitting in class, distracted, but hearing about addiction and depression and disorder like a stuck track. No I'm pretty sure I'm not addicted. Depression, it's the common cold of psychological illnesses anyways.

I was very quick to judge. I was defensive. I doubted people's genuine-ity and care. I wanted to be alone. I wanted people around me to drown the mosquito pangs of my rampant thoughts. I wanted to keep busy. I wanted to sleep. I couldn't sleep. I wanted this season to pass without going through the soul-purging process of taking sin out of my life.

I take a step back and look at my life and I can't help but think, 'What the eff' did I do?' Numbly, I go home for my mom's baptism. Dad tells me I'm throwing my life away in my major. We argue. I dared to say that he is disappointed in me as a daughter because I can't repay the debt I owe in exchange for everything he and mom had given me. I accused him of conditional love. I accused our relationship of being like that of a bank and a borrower. Return with interest. Return this debt with my own life. I told him the pressure of them giving me their everything is too much.

I am killing my parents. They are crying out, begging me, bargaining with me to at least double major in something 'worthwhile.' "What are you going to do with social work? Are you planning on marrying a rich doctor?" The more they ask, the more I feel tugging at me.. no I don't want to do social work, I want to do ministry. That would break their hearts even more, wouldn't it?

If I had an infinite amount of material wealth, my first thing to do is to pay off my parents' mortgage. I would pay off their debts. Then buy them nice things: house, car, hacky sacks, new clothes so mom doesn't have to wear hand-me-downs from our bourgeoisie relatives. So everyone in the family can shut the eff' up and stop looking down on others. Then I don't need any of the wealth. Just give it all to them, so I am free. I can live my life and they know that I have received their love and I am truly grateful. I can bring them early retirement, take the work from them. Oh how sweet. But the fact that my mom knows Jesus as savior is an infinite times better than that. So I'll choose that over infinite material wealth any day. And for my dad, too.

Spring Break Blues

Last year after a heart wrenching 10 days on my first overseas missions trip in the Dominican Republic, I went through a mild state of ceaseless crying and homesickness. I contemplated dropping out of college and moving back in with my parents. I instant messaged my dad saying "I love you" and with what little he knows about technology, he replied "me too". And I wept. I felt so far. Far from God. Far from dad and mom. Far from Kelly. Far from people who loved me and babied me. I was also coming more to grips with pathetic self-esteem after my confession that turned into a rejection. A broken car. A new roommate. A major I hated.

I still need closure. Memories of the two years I spent as a pilot still haunt me like a nightmare. The gossip. The accident. The night flight. The landings. The ground classes. The safety reports, hah.. The flight to evansville airport. I made so many mistakes. It was hard to look at myself.

Now I am back in the same room after a year and another spring break trip. I had a spontaneous trip to Chicago for two days right after I came back from the St. Louis missions trip. It was hard to leave, but not as hard as one year ago. Where I bawled and said I didn't want to go back [to Carbondale]. I cried while driving back, actually leaving several hours later than I planned. I prayed out loud to God until I felt like I lost my voice.. asking Him to help my heart. Oh Lord, I take pity on the person I was a year ago for the things I was feeling.

This spring break at City Lights was breathtakingly amazing. It was basically a week of manual labor and full on God through serving eyes. This post will not do it justice. After my first two days of laboring, I was frustrated and I felt so spiritually dry. I said to myself, I hope I won't have to do this kind of work in my future. While I was raking in the beating sun for 6 hours, I realized that the work I was doing was comparable to work I might do to get paid. Instead, I was giving money to work.. Having felt prompted with the song lyrics in my mind "I will go. Lord, send me. I will follow you.." A question protruding before all other thoughts "Will you really?" I was shocked by my own ugliness and I answered in my heart "Yes, my Lord Jesus. Yes!" Because you are the best thing for me.

My call to commitment:

Lord, help me say Yes to you everyday.

It's Green Where You Water It

Where do I report a drought? We are dying of thirst.

"I don't believe in best friends"

I don't believe in best friends, because best friends just break your heart.

My heart cries out, I can't trust anyone. But this isn't time for a stupid pity party. No one should trust me either, because I am human and I am sinful. Give me your entire heart, and I will break it even if I love you with all of mine.  Every year around this time (my birthday, not valentines days), I'm reminded of loneliness. I came alone. I am alone. I leave alone.

No one to talk to but God. No one to cry to but God. No one to listen but God.

People are disgusting.
People are deceitful.
People are selfish.
People are cruel.

Let me step back in my judgement.

Lord, I am disgusting.
Lord, I am deceitful.
Lord, I am selfish.
Lord, I am cruel.

Thank you for still loving me. Help me love like you.

But no, It's not ok

The other week, my supervisor came to my desk and told me, "That's why I hired you." "You're Filipino, right?" she asked. She hired me because of my color and how good that might look in the office. I work hard. I have great work ethics. I am loyal. I have experience. There are so many better reasons she should have hired me for besides my color.

A couple of days ago, I went to her office and told her about a computer problem. She went into the hall way and shouted "Our student workers are useless and don't know anything." She ignored me for the next two days. Today, she told me I was doing a great job.

My heart feels betrayed. My color?

last week, when I turned in my application as a student worker to the student employment office, the lady in charge and I talked briefly. Before I was about to leave she stopped me, "Are you sure you're allowed to work? Did you check that?" I looked at her, thinking I knew what she meant. "Yea, we made sure. The handbook says I can work 16 additional hours with the undergraduate assistanceship." She said, "No, are you sure you're legal to work since you're not a citizen?" My eyes widened, "I'm American." She double checked my forms. "I'm sorry I thought I saw it marked not USA citizen" my lips make a smile and I walk towards the door. My mouth makes a chuckle and words come out, "It's okay, you're not the first person to say that to me."