Yo-say-might (Yosemite)

After all these years, I finally set foot in YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK.

I could barely feel my butt by the end the hike, but it's pretty crazy how you can just walk, walk, walk and then out of nowhere you see this:



Phone cameras...wow. The last time I was in a national park we were still developing pictures from film at Wal-Mart.

But I am not easily pleased.



Maine is prettier. Rocks + Atlantic ocean + Lobstah > Big Rocks.

Stilled

Holy Jesus, wow.

Sunset by home, 12/23/2011

Childlike Faith

While driving Frances and Sam to Berkeley this morning, there was not a single red light on Shattuck from Dwight until Center. Green, green, green, green, green...usually I hit at least 1-2 reds.

Frances: "See how God makes straight your paths!!!"

That simple statement has made me smile for hours.

:) Sometimes we just need people like her to remind us that He is good.

It's refreshing.

Why I Run

I was raised in a family where running was the solution to basically everything.

Are you sad? Go run.
Are you tired? Run.
Are you cold? Run.
Are you sick? Go running.

And much of it is because my parents knew that running and spending time outside was the way my sister and I would be reminded that our God is greater and bigger than everything else.

This morning was wicked cold, even Boston girl thought so. I picked myself out of bed, put on my short running shorts and t-shirt and went outside… shivering. It was foggy, dark and very quiet.

After 6.5 years in the Bay Area, I think one of the reasons why I refuse to identify myself as a Californian is because I absolutely love sunrises over the Atlantic. There’s just something about the rising sun that reminds me of the glorious hope we have in Christ.

Although it started off cold and dreary this morning, 20 minutes into the run, the sun indeed came out. No matter where I was along the trail, the sun was there. Everything was dark at first, but I ran because I knew it would get brighter. And that it’d be good, not painless. And it was good, but not painless.

Oftentimes in life, I find myself stepping out into what seems to be dark, cold, dreary, and undesirable. But I do it because I know God will be there. The mere presence of Christ in me is enough, but it's hard to believe. Sometimes, I think Jesus is hidden, yet the truth is that evidence of His grace is everywhere. In the end, Jesus in His glory will shine and in His presence I will rejoice.

And although I like to look upon California with contempt, I’ve learned to appreciate Pacific sunsets too. Ever notice how sunsets are so much prettier when it’s cloudy and the sky isn’t completely clear? I purposely try to go watch sunsets on "ugly" sky days. The clouds that streak across the sky often create a much more vivid array of colors.

It’s a lot like the times we look back at the rough bumps and see the traces of His grace so much more.

Y’know, I think life is worth living and enjoying after all. Maybe I won't ever have reasons or answers to my questions, but I have Jesus, the man of sorrows. The Holy Spirit who lives in me comforts me and my Heavenly Father knows me. The Holy God...knows me and loves me.

Moral of the story: go run with the sunrise and sunset. It’ll do you good.

Never will I leave you;
never will I forsake you.

Joshua 1:5

Unity

"Teach me your way, O LORD,
that I may walk in your truth;
unite my heart to fear your name."

Psalm 86:11

Unite my heart to fear your name.

Beautiful prayer, eh?

Unity. It starts on the inside.

Grace

After Peter had denied Jesus 3 times, God did this.

Angel speaking to women:

6 “Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. 7 But go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.’”

"Go, tell the disciples...

AND PETER

that Jesus is risen!"

Peter, of all people, was the one God sought.

What an amazing God we serve.

My parents pointed this passage out to me this weekend. I am thankful that my mom and dad, despite my stubborn and oh so judgmental heart, keep pointing me back to the grace of Jesus on the cross. That is the only thing that will change my heart of stone into one of humble gratitude...in the course of a lifetime.

I Am A Control Freak After All

For all you looking forward to moving on from school...it doesn't really get much better.

For all of you older than me, I have much respect for your perseverance.

A sorta abridged version of an email I wrote to my parents and sister:

Hello Family,

I'll try to keep it short.

This is kind of a funny story…but it pointed to the fact that I probably have bigger issues to deal with.

On Sunday after service, everyone broke into small groups to have a time or sharing/prayer. The pastor met with all the Berkeley people during this time. He asked how we were doing and wanted to go around the circle and have everyone share.

When he simply asked “how are you doing” I started to cry…and then I said I wanted to die because following Jesus was too hard.

It was really embarrassing. I had no intention of crying or saying that I wanted to die...it was so stupidly dramatic. I tried to stop but it just came out.

What makes it funny is that circumstances are actually quite good and any outsider would think I should be a happy person. I have a full-time job, I have so much freedom to do what I like- run, go to concerts, read in coffee shops, hangout with friends, I have a church family that really does care for me, and I have a family that really supports me. I have so much more than I need.

Like I shared a little on the phone a couple weeks ago, I started to feel that life is too long and hard. I’m only 24, and this path of knowing Christ and being sanctified into a more humble and holy person is terribly difficult at times. It frightens me that I might have to live until the age 70 or more if the Lord wills. The path to pure joy in Christ is often the path with the most pain- and I don’t want to fight the fight anymore.

All this uncertainty in life is overwhelming. I don’t know what I’m living for other than “God” but oftentimes I’m not sure what that it means be walking with God- don’t know how long I will be in this company, don’t know if I will ever be married or if I'm going to be single forever, don’t know if God wants me to be a doctor or go into research, don’t know how long or how to minister to the freshmen here, don’t know what’s coming next.

I can’t imagine living life for 50 more years. Don’t know how dad and mom did it. Talk to you soon.

Love,
Vicky

Yet at the same time, I don't want a life full of certainty. That'd bore me to death too.

He is faithful, even when I am faithless. A life lived by faith. Eeek, what a journey.

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.

Philippians 4:11

Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised.

Romans 4:20-21

Because He lives
I can face tomorrow.

Love

I read some years ago in National Geographic that after a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, some forest rangers began to trek up a mountain to survey the damage. One ranger found a bird of which nothing was left but the carbonized, petrified shell, covered in ashes, huddled at the base of a tree. Somewhat sickened by this eerie sight, the ranger knocked the bird over with a stick-- and three tiny chicks scurried out from under their dead mother's wings. When the blaze had arrived, the mother had remained steadfast instead of running. Because she had been willing to die, those under the cover of her wings lived. And Jesus said, "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you that kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to father your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings" (Luke 13:34). He did indeed gather Jerusalem's children under his wings-- and he was consumed. All real, life-changing love is costly, substitutionary sacrifice.

-Tim Keller

Word.

"Apart from me, you can do nothing...If you remain in me and my words remain in you,...you will bear much fruit."

Jesus

More than enough.

Orchestrated

Sometimes life happens. And it hurts. Real bad. And you don't understand why. Yet despite the chaos, you can't help but believe that God's totally got it under control.

Last night, something happened that absolutely no one in my family expected.

I happened to be in the same room of the same Berkeley apartment as my cousin and sister when the news broke. I live in the Eastbay while the rest of my relatives and immediate family live at least an hour away. The three of us haven't hung out together in over a year. We weren't even planning on seeing each other that night...but we did anyways. Immediately after we heard the news, we left the room as a family. The three oldest cousins on my dad's side. We cried. Prayed. Praised.

And then we went to Cafe Milano for coffee and hot chocolate and reminisced over our fondest family memories.

I could've mourned alone, but instead, God gave me people. Family. At just the right time.

This morning, I was planning on attending this conference that I've been looking forward to for months. You have no idea how excited I've been...simply because I knew Francis Chan was speaking. My sister came with me.

We drove into SF, parked my car in the Tenderloin and got so sketched out by the neighborhood at 8am. After checking in and getting our t-shirts, I called home to talk to my dad again. He insisted that he was okay.

After hanging up, I asked my sister what we should do.

I am humbled by her wisdom and obedience to the Lord.

She replied, "God brings family...together."

Immediately, I thought of what had happened the night before. How God had perfectly orchestrated everything so that my cousin, sister and I were together, and not apart.

We left the conference before it even began, because I learned that God brings family together. Francis Chan is great, but family is family.

Give thanks for your family. Yes, imperfect, but orchestrated. The Lord put you together so that you wouldn't be alone. There are times when God will bring you together. And there are times when you need to choose to be together.

Football

Some of my greatest spiritual and life lessons came from my dad on Sunday afternoons. He would watch football games, drink beer and comment on how life is a battle, just like football. It requires strength, discipline and perseverance. And a brain. Really.

I remember I once was crying over some flute audition as if it were the end of the world and my dad just stared at the TV and started talking about football. He always says to me, “You haven’t even fought the battle and you’ve already given up!”

I bet Solomon would've coached football if he were alive today. It requires a lot of wisdom to be a good one.

Oh, why am I talking about this?

Because I think you should read "Quiet Strength" by Tony Dungy.

In The Morning

Sometimes I really wonder how I could ever doubt God's perfect love for me when I know that He loved me enough to create this thing called the coffee bean.

All There

"For the Lord your God has blessed you in all the work of your hands.

He knows your going through this great wilderness.

These forty years the LORD!!! your God has been with you.

You have lacked nothing."

Deuteronomy 2:7

Dude

The Lord is so good.



:) !!!


David, when I think of you, I think of this:

A humble warrior.

Curly Hair and Spirituality

This is going sound ridiculous, but I was thinking this in the bathroom today.

Our sinful nature is a lot like curly hair. It's always going to be there, as long as we're in the flesh.

For over a decade now, my hair has been curly. I was born with straight hair, but then I hit puberty and then started looking like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

My hair can stay straight if I burn the life out of it with my straightener, but once it gets humid or any dampness hits it, it starts to frizz and curl. The moisture could also come from within myself- my head sweats. I have very little control over the level of moisture around me and dude, I would LOVE it if I could control my sweat.

As Christians, we often try to straighten out our lives. We try to be perfect and hide our inadequacies. Then life gets a little messy, circumstances become less than ideal, and our imperfections begin to pop out. Or the inner battle within our own heart messes with our lives too.

And for some reason, we're surprised.

I have tried so hard in the past years to hide my curls. I watch the weather forecast not to know how to dress the next day, but to know how to do my hair the next day.

It's so much work to hide curly hair. That's the beauty of Herbal Essences hair products. It has convinced me that there can be beauty in curly hair, AND it saves me so much time.

It's so much work to hide sin. That's the beauty of the gospel. It has convinced me that there can be beauty in the broken. And we're free.

But it's a lifelong battle. I'm always going to struggle with the fact that my hair is curly. And I'm always going to be disappointed by my sinful nature in the flesh too.

Okay I'm done.

Hahaha, If you thought this analogy was lame, I've got pleeenty more.

:)

Traveling Mercies

I'm never taking a safe trip for granted again.

It's funny how some people just have to learn things the hard way...to learn them.

I do a lot of stupid things alone. Go hiking in the wilderness, go running through the streets of Oakland, go to an empty gym at wee hours of the morning, and the list goes on.

On my way back from Chicago, I got semi-mugged by a kid on a bus. He tried to take my iPod, which was sitting...on my lap. I was by myself on a bus in a very dangerous part of town. I assumed it'd be alright since it was 10:30 am.

A man sitting right across from me TACKLED the kid down and got my iPod back and threw the kid off the bus. Then he sat back down as if nothing had happened.

God's angels protected me.

I could've been attacked at gunpoint by a full-grown man. But it was a 14? year old kid. AND someone still tackled the kid down for me.

Isn't it amazing that God loves girls who don't use their brains?...

After all this happened, I was really scared but also really sad.

It breaks my heart that the kid had to steal. Two days prior, I went to a huge church with escalators. The sanctuary is twice the size of Kodak Theater. David Crowder will be leading worship in two weekends. They have so many connections and the church has a lot of great things going on. Yet there are so many poor people right down the street. So much crime.

Is this really what the American church should look like? Am I...really following Christ with the way I live in luxury today?

New Life Goal

Seriously. It's about time.

If only life were that easy.

This makes me sad:

The production of hydrochloric acid (HCl) by parietal cells in the stomach is stimulated by gastrin, acetylcholine (ACh), and histamine. Parasympathetic nerve fibers stimulate G cells to secrete gastrin. This polypeptide hormone, when released into capillary blood, binds to specific receptors on the basolateral membrane of the parietal cell and acts to increase intracellular calcium. The most active form of gastrin is G17, which exhibits about five times the biological activity of G34.

ACh, a neurotransmitter released from parasympathetic nerve terminals, binds to M3 muscarinic receptors on the basolateral membrane also to increase intracellular calcium levels. Histamine, released from mast cells in the gastric mucosa, binds to H2 receptors on the basolateral membrane to increase intracellular cAMP levels.

Blah blAAAhhh blah wah wah wah blaggghhh?!

Likes

Treasure

More Than I Deserve

I've come to this point where I realize that absolutely NOTHING I have has been earned. And I have SO much. My family, my friends, my job, my home, the things I enjoy today...came to me in my weakness because the Lord had mercy on me. Incredible mercy. Unbelievable mercy.

The journey to this point has been full of tears.

But I'm happy. I'm really happy.

The Lord is not done with me yet. And I'm sure another round of humbling is to come.

There's freedom in knowing you don't have it all figured out. So often, I want to think I do.

Jesus, keep me sorrowful, thankful, joyful.

Clothed

There was once this girl whose heart contained a lot of insecurity. Shame. Hurt. Fear.

She tried to cover her broken heart with clothes. A shirt called good credentials. These pants called athleticism. A hat called musical ability. Shoes called ministry success stories.

God loved this girl.

He allowed college to be ridiculously difficult. She whimpered.

He allowed her ankles to be broken and her bones to be fractured. She was in pain.

He allowed her musical dreams to be shattered. She was terribly ashamed.

He allowed the girls she loved the most to be hurt by her. She felt so defeated.

God loved this girl.

This girl was so confused. She felt naked, without anything good and she panicked before God.

“God, look at me. I'm naked. I have nothing. I am nothing. I’m so sorry.”

God told her, “You’re not naked. Look at you. I made you beautiful in my sight. I stripped the pride off of you so that both you and I could see MY perfect righteousness clothing you. MY blood covering you. MY love around you. I died for you so that you can be a new creation.

Stop. trying. so. hard.

Go play now and be free, my child.”





God. I don’t know what to say.

Why are you so good to me?

But God demonstrates His love for me in this. While I was still a sinner, Christ died for me.

Life.

"I will never leave you nor forsake you." Hebrews 13:5

Earlier this week, I found out one of my closest friends is moving away to New York City at the end of the month. She's been an amazing friend and sister to me for the past four years. Though I'm happy that the Lord provided a job for her husband and a new direction for her new family, it broke my heart to know I will have to say bye.

I DIED on the inside. I love her so much.

It's been four years of getting to know each other. I saw her meet her husband, get married and have a kid. It was beautiful. Four years of opening myself up to her and her opening up to me. So many memories. So much joy. But now, so much...sorrow.

Why does "Lord, have YOUR way" so often have to entail saying bye and watching people come and go?

I've had so many of these weeks where I wished I just didn't care about people. It's really hard to take my eyes off of me.

So many friends have left the Bay Area. People that I love so much. One after another. I want to leave too. It's too painful. Why can't I leave, God? My heart physically hurts. And getting to know new people is a lot of work.

I don't want to say bye anymore.

Hallelujah, hallelujah
Whatever's in front of me
Help me to sing hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Whatever's in front of me
I'll choose to sing hallelujah

Tired?

My dad shared this with my family 3 years ago when we were really tired. Tired of life. The never ending roller coaster of emotions and circumstances.

With great sorrow comes great joy.

The Journey
by Max Lucado

I drove the family to Grandma's last night for Thanksgiving. Three hours into the six-hour trip, I realized that I was in a theology lab.

A day with a car full of kids will teach you a lot about God. Transporting a family from one city to another is closely akin to God transporting us from our home to his.

A journey is a journey, whether the destination be the Thanksgiving table or the heavenly one. Both demand patience, a good sense of direction, and a driver who knows that the feast at the end of the trip is worth the hassles in the midst of the trip.

For me, six hours on the road is a small price to pay for my mom's strawberry cake. I don't mind the drive because I know the reward. I have three decades of Thanksgivings under my belt, literally. As I drive, I can taste the turkey. Hear the dinner-table laughter. Smell the smoke from the fireplace.

I can endure the journey because I know the destiny.

For some of you, the journey has been long. Very long and stormy. In no way do I wish to minimize the difficulties that you have had to face along the way. Some of you have shouldered burdens that few of us could ever carry. You have bid farewell to life-long partners. You have been robbed of life-long dreams. You have been given bodies that can't sustain your spirit. You have spouses who can't tolerate your faith. You have bills that outnumber the paychecks and challenges that outweigh the strength.

And you are tired.

Let me encourage you with a parallel between your life's journey and the one our family took last night.

It's worth it.

As I write, the Thanksgiving meal is over. My legs are propped up on the hearth. My tablet is on my lap.

I have every intention of dozing off as soon as I finish this chapter.

The turkey has been attacked. The giblet gravy has been gobbled. The table is clear. The kids are napping. And the family is content.

As we sat around the table today, no one spoke of the long trip to get here. No one mentioned the requests I didn't honor. No one grumbled about my foot being on the accelerator when their hearts were focused on the banana splits. No one complained about the late hour of arrival.

Yesterday's challenges were lost in today's joy.

God never said that the journey would be easy, but he did say that the arrival would be worthwhile.

Remember this: God may not do what you want, but he will do what is right ... and best. He's the Father of forward motion. Trust him. He will get you home. And the trials of the trip will be lost in the joys of the feast.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll close my eyes. I'm a bit tired from the journey, and it feels good to rest.

But The Story Doesn't End

Y’know how sometimes it freaks you out when a TV series or movie parallels your life, or somehow the characters just understand what you’re going through?

Y’know what’s even freakier?

When God’s Word totally gets you.

Yesterday morning, I read about how Joseph was forgotten. And I was totally feeling the same way.

Today in chapter 41, the story continued, but it continued two years later. TWO YEARS later, Joseph tells Pharaoh, “Not me, but God…” (Gen 41:16)

Two years prior, Joseph told the cupbearer, “Don’t forget me. My name is Joseph. Don’t forget Joseph.” (Gen 40:14)

Two whole years later, Joseph tells Pharaoh, “GOD.”

Can you imagine what those TWO YEARS in jail were like for Joseph? No facebook, no iPod, no gchat, no hot girls, no Starbucks, no beer…

And somehow, at the end of those two years, Joseph understood that it’s not about him, it’s about His God. I bet he threw massive fits and whined like a baby for awhile. Why do I bet this? Because that's what I did...

But after two years, Joseph realized it's about

God.

Love

Sometimes I read things in the Bible and I get passionately angry at God for allowing us to go through certain things in life. Genesis has surprisingly made me really angry these past couple days.

The chief cupbearer, however, did not remember Joseph; he forgot him.

Genesis 40:23

...really, God?

I wish I just didn't give a crap about people. Life would be so much easier.

My mom's email to me this morning:

Are you wearied now, dear daughter? Turn your eyes upon Jesus. He is man of sorrow, for he has been accused and rejected. In the mean time, ask God to search our heart and help us be humble and contrite in spirit, and tremble at His word.(Isaiah 66:2) God will lead us with his righteous hand to walk through our valley of shadow. Do you believe?

So do not fear, for He is with you; do not be dismayed, for He is your God.





Jesus, love is hard.

Fob or White-Washed?

Andrew: i be in berkeley tomorrow
3:54 PM me: ooh yeea?
i'll be with frances at 6pm
Andrew: in berkeley?!!?1
can i crash?!
thatd be perfect
me: haha
ummm
Andrew: havent talked to frances in forevs
me: well we have a sisters bible study thing...
Andrew: PERFECT
me: HAHAHA
it's at my place in emeryville
3:55 PM i'm picking frances up in berkeley at 6
and taking her to emeryville
should we plan something?
3:56 PM Andrew: mm ho wlong is the thingamabob
and how many of you sisters is it?


FREEZE.

Did you read mm ho wlong as

"mm ho wlong"

or

"mm HOW LONG?"

Just a test.

Mandarin-only speaking Vicky totally thought Mandarin-only speaking Andrew was speaking Canto. And because mm ho wlong sounded like Asianese, I immediately thought thingamabob was also a Chinese word.

Funny how the brain works, eh?!

how i met your Father

Year 2035

Kids,

Back in May 2010, I had just graduated from college. I was single, naive and scared shitless of being an adult.

The year following college was a year full of firsts.

First full-time job.
First car --> this led to first time driving on a freeway and parallel parking.
First own apartment.
First personal credit card.
First marathon.
First blind date.
First clubbing experience.
First time getting wasted.
First time going on a vacation alone.
First time paying for my own education.
First time filing taxes and saving for retirement.
First time one of my closest friends had a child.

It was a good year. A year where I started to realize the richness of letting life just unfold itself. A year of taking baby steps of faith, and only baby steps. A year of realizing that I know absolutely nothing and that I was still really young.

Working life was different, quite different, but I liked it. In school, your responsibilities were clear and your priorities were set. But afterwards, it's not and that's where the fun and not-so-fun stuff comes in. I had a lot to learn.

This was a year where I thought I was floating around alone, but I wasn't. God had given me His Word. And in my heart was living His beautiful Spirit. And on top of all that, I had friends and family to make life full of beauty. And day after day, even until now, I have to listen for the Shepherd's leading. It's a wild adventure!

At age 23, there were times when I thought, "Oh man, I've messed up my life. It's over."

But the truth was: This love story has just begun.

And so the story of how I met my Father, my Heavenly Father, continues to this day. I'm still meeting Him. God is so big and grand, and I think all my life, for as long as I am on this earth, it will seem as if I'm just meeting Him and never able to really know God because His love is unfathomably huge and always full of surprises.

It was also this year that I started watching TV, specifically the TV series "How I Met Your Mother." I stayed away from this show for awhile because I really thought it was going to full of "your mom" jokes and I cringe when I hear those jokes.

Your uncle Dawson used to quote this show all the time, saying things like "WHAT UUUP" and he'd shoot finger guns into his head and use the word "legendary" totally out of context. I thought he was weird, but actually, he was just being AWWWESOME.

Anyways kids, what I want to say is that you're still young, but your life with Jesus can be legendary, no matter what the circumstances. And you're never alone.

End.

Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun ... ba ba baaa baaa ba ba ba baaaaa (theme song)

Haha, this is what watching season 3 of HIMYM in one weekend does to my mind. I think like an old dad.

Note: I may die tonight and never have kids. So don't read into this more than necessary. I do hope that if I do have kids, however, I will know who the father is. My coworker thinks I'm going to give birth to Jesus as the second virgin Mary. I told her Jesus is coming back with trumpets and not in my tummy. Oh glorious day! :)

Twas Grace That Taught My Heart to Fear

Saturday, April 16 11:15 PM

I was fast asleep at this time because I went to bed at 10 pm. Yes, at 10 pm on a Saturday. I am old and tired like that.

In the middle of my REMming, I hear the “mmeeerrr” of the vibrating phone beneath my pillow. When you’re tired, and fast asleep, there’s little to no chance you will think of anyone but yourself. Thus, the phone was silenced. And back to zzz I went.

Sunday, April 17 8:08 AM

I look at my phone and see that it was one of the co-pastors of my church in Berkeley who had called.

“Oh shoot, what a rebel. Rejected the call of a pastor. Oops.”

Staring at the ceiling, still in bed, I call back immediately

“Morning, Vicky”

In my ultra sexy groggy morning voice, I replied, “Hey, sorry I missed your call.”

“Ah no worries, I was just wondering last night if you could lead worship today, but nah, don’t worry about it…”

Fifteen seconds later, I hang up and lay still in bed for another couple of minutes.

He wanted me to…WHAT?! Lead…HHHWAT?!

If you’ve been reading my past posts, God recently led me back to the church I had tried to run away from.

I don’t know how to describe the experience of coming back. It has made me feel wicked small…that’s the least I can say.

Why? Because I left this church for really selfish and sinful reasons. My surface-level b.s. answer was that I wanted to find a church with single working sisters, people like me, in my stage of life.

But, deep, deep, oh deep down, down in my heart, it came down to this: I believed I needed a better church. A church that had a bigger congregation of committed people, perfect ones. A church that had a more “successful” ministry. A church that wasn’t made up of a bunch of weirdos…(Weirdos, you know who you are. I love you guys dearly, but you are so, sooo weird.)

I thought I deserved better. Ministry was easy for me, following God was easy, doing my quiet times was easy. It didn’t make sense to me that it wasn’t “easy” for everyone else. Obviously, I was in the wrong place…right?

I’m usually a pretty disciplined person, but oftentimes this strength has become my greatest weakness. I didn’t have the grace to minister unto others because I was unable to sympathize with people. In my pride, there was no room for love. And so I left quietly and kinda chased after other things for awhile, completely unaware of what God was already doing in my heart. (Read previous blog post for that part of the story)

Pretend you’re a wife who cheated on a really amazing husband, and then you’re coming back to ask to be part of the home again. You would feel terrible and ridiculous for even thinking of coming back, right? This is how I felt walking back into the church three Sunday ago, but I couldn’t help but believe it was where God’s Spirit was leading me.

I came back, really ashamed. I heard the welcomes and the warm greetings of my brothers and sisters, and I was just thinking, “No. No, no. Not me. This is NOT what I deserve. Stop, please.”

The kindness of the family I have in Berkeley has brought me to utter … blah. It’s been overwhelming. You know those cheesy loves songs that sing about how love takes your breath away and all that crap? It’s for reals when people know the love of Christ.

I was expecting people to treat me like the older brother in the parable of the prodigal son, with judgmental looks and interrogative questions. And even though it wouldn’t have been the “gracious” response, it was what I rightfully deserved, and I was ready to take it.

I went back to the church feeling so out of place, so undeserving to be in a home again. It’s been hard for me to even disciple Ashley…she doesn’t know this, but the past couples weeks, I haven’t met up with her regularly, because in many ways, I’m just cringing at the realization of my wretchedness, at just how dirty my heart is and I’m humbled that God would entrust me to lead someone else after I have failed so badly in my own walk.

When I was asked to lead worship on Sunday, I was speechless. Even though there would be no physical way for me to do it anyways, I was still shocked that I would be asked.

Me?! No way, man. After what I did?! I can’t. I’m a sinner. I’m like the worst sinner in this group of people. I cheated on you guys. What LOVE… is this?!?!

I had to learn this the hard way, but I’m thankful I learned it the hard way: Ministry is something WAY undeserved. A privilege. A joy..

For the longest time, I thought of myself worthy to serve. Of course I didn’t say it out loud, but I believed it in the depths of my heart that I was holy enough, talented enough, equipped enough, good-looking enough…to lead people to Jesus.

And yet somehow, with this disgusting attitude in my heart, God still loved me enough to draw me out for 1.5 years and show me that He loves me with a grace that is beyond my comprehension.

He still loved me enough to die on Calvary for me, even when he knew THIS is how I would treat Him and His beloved church.

If the church of Christ can love me this much, how much GREATER the love of my gracious Redeemer!

WOWmazing.

Twas grace that taught my heart…to fear.

And grace, my fears relieved.

The word Hallelujah has a whole new meaning this Easter. This past Sunday I was reminded that Hallelujah is the highest form of praise- a praise that recognizes the gap that was bridged when Jesus died on the cross and came back to life so that God could LIVE in me, despite my own mistakes and wrongs and sins. God is victorious.

…

Hallelujah, baby.

Side Note:

I read this quote by Tim Keller the other day:

“Many Christians (though not all) testify that when they first became aware of their need for God, they went through a time of immaturity in which they became extremely religious. They diligently sought to mend their ways and do religious duties to “clean up their lives.” They made tearful “surrenders” to God at church services. They “gave their lives to Jesus” and “asked him into their hearts.” But so often they were only just resolving to be very good and very religious, hoping this would procure the favor and blessing of God. At this stage they tended to have a lot of emotional ups and downs, feeling good when they made a spiritual commitment and despondent when they failed to keep a promise to God. They felt a great deal of anxiety. They were on their way to discovering God in the gospel, but they were not there yet!”

This quote is why I was inspired to write this blog post.

Growing up in church, no one ever warned me about this whole pit of religious Pharisaic pride that I would fall into. Of course there were the warnings about self righteousness and all, but I had no idea what it looked like because Christians don’t walk around saying that they are prideful and super religious and no one ever shared with me how God redeemed them from their spiritual pride. But I wish they did, or at least someone did. Not that it would’ve kept me from falling, but I think it would’ve been encouraging to know I wasn’t alone in this. If you’re in this pit right now, you’re not alone.

So this my living example of how God still drew me in, just as I was, cocky, religious and so immature. This is the gospel in my life. The work of Christ in a church girl.

I hope you get to see it in yours too. Look for it. It’s there, and it’s amazing.

Majestic Whispers: Another Chapter

Saturday morning in Starbucks.

Usually I would be outside on a long run, but my left foot is killing me and I’m starting to think that sometimes in life, you just have to drink coffee and write instead of running your heart out every single day of your life.

Here is an excerpt from Donald Miller’s Through Painted Deserts (excellent book) that I really liked:

I think I would sum it up this way: life is not a story about me, but it being told to me, and I can be glad of that. I think that is the why of life, and in fact, the why of this ancient faith I am caught up in: to enjoy God. The stars were created to dazzle us, like a love letter; light itself is just a metaphor, something that exists outside of time, made up of what seems like nothing, infinite in its power, something that can be experienced but not understood, like God. Relationships between men and women indicate something of the nature of God— that he is relational, that He feels love and loss. It’s all a metaphor, and the story is about us; it’s about all of us who God made, and God Himself, just enjoying each other.

Life really is a story being told to us. A story about God’s love for silly, silly people. Yesterday, I was talking to my coworker about how I think people are just so silly. We want to be cool, we want to be liked, we want to be righteous, we want to be sexy, we want to be comfortable, but in the end, we’re just so incredibly silly.

It’s pretty neat when you can tell a chapter of your life just ended and a new one is about to begin. Like that time when things start to fall into place, and the eclectic collage of events becomes another small image in an endless mural called God’s glory.

I think I’ve reached the end of a chapter. A chapter called Majestic Whispers.

So when did this chapter begin? Probably back in November 2009, when my burnout from ministry happened. When I was so tired of phony Christians and this whole religion thing and wanted quits. I was desperate for love, for approval from the people in my life. At the root of the issue, I didn't believe that God was the One I wanted to worship. I didn't believe His grace on the cross was sufficient to satisfy my need for love. Jesus seemed more of a burden than a joy, and everything just drove me nuts.

That happened about 1.5 years ago. I stepped out of ministry during winter break and I still remember meeting up with the church leaders over dinner and crying so hard. “I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t.”

I don’t get angry very often. Actually, no, that’s a lie. I do get angry, but I let the anger build up slowly and then SURPRISE, I will blow up in SILENCE and never talk to you again. Note: character issue to work on.

So coming into January 2010: this was what was running through my heart: “God, I know you’re real and I want to believe you are good. But I hate ministry, I hate people, I hate school, I don’t know what to do with my life, and the fact that I have to find a job terrifies me. Can I just move to Boston and start over?”

God heard my cry. I know with all my heart that He did. And even though I deserved to be destroyed by His holy wrath, God decided instead to calm me with His whispers. In my angry silence, Jesus spoke to me, month after month, day after day.

I don’t really know how to give an account of my past year except by listing the times I cried. God works in my heart when I cry. The funny thing is that most of my friends, even my closest girlfriends, have not really seen me cry. But I am such a crybaby, and God knows that, but I think He loves it too.

Hahahaha.

So here it goes, and I’ll write in third person. It helps me put into perspective what God does.


The times when an angry girl named Vicky cried in 2010:

1.Vicky cried when God led her for the first time to Westgate Community Church. She cried because God’s presence was so real and big. And in the weeks to come, she’d continue to cry because God’s grandness was overwhelming. She had forgotten in the midst of “serving” in ministry that her God was this big.
2.Vicky cried she was with her parents on the phone or in person. Her parents helped her out immensely- praying for her, feeding her, listening to her. A lot of healing happened this past year as she became more vulnerable with her parents than ever before. God revealed Himself as healer.
3.Vicky cried when she had to ask her friends to forgive her. She realized that her anger towards many of the people in her life was due to her own pride and ingratitude. Although humbling, she was thankful to be reminded that God is her savior. The apologizing all happened last spring 2010 but God knew she needed at least another year to heal before He would bring her back.
4.Vicky cried when God was so beautiful to her in Emeryville. Do you ever have moments where you just look at something beautiful and start crying? Vicky went on a lot of romantic runs and walks with Jesus, probably hundreds of miles in the past year, and there would be times she would just CRY because God is beautiful.
5.Vicky cried when she felt lonely. Living alone had its joy, but also times of deep emptiness. And attending a huge church alone had its benefits, but in the end became difficult as well. However, in the times of solitude with Jesus, she was reminded that Jesus was her indeed best friend who was with her wherever she went.

Now it’s March, wait April 2011. April...!?!

It probably took quite of few gallons of tears for God to humble her to where she is today, but those gallons of tears all fell into this bucket in her heart that is labeled as "God's love in Vicky's life", and it’s overflowing again with gratitude. Crybaby is overflowing.

End of chapter.

So there it is. A year of God's love in the stillness of quiet tears. Even though I “disappeared” from my church and the lives of a lot of people, God still showed up and did His thing. He doesn’t waste our days, our years, at all. His gentle whispers have said over and over to me: "I love you."

I'm pretty excited for the next chapter. Perhaps excited isn't the word. Because I know I'm going to cry a lot and it's going to be hard, but God will humble me with His love even more.

The Female Prodigal Jonah

About a year ago and two months ago, Jesus said to me: Feed my lambs

When I heard that, the faces of the girls of my college fellowship flashed through my head, one after the other.

And I FREEEAKed out.

"NO GOD! I DON'T WANT TO LOVE YOUR LAMBS. IT'S TOO HARD. NO WAY, GOD. I'M DONE, SPENT, OUT. NO NO NOOOO!"

And so I left that church, kind of. They have...actually been a bigger part of my life than I had anticipated, but I still left.

This morning, as I was sobbing at the wheel in an empty parking lot, I said: God, I'm so tired.

Jesus said: Feed my lambs

I said: But I'm so lonely.

Jesus said: Tend to my sheep

My response: I can't. I caaaaan't

Jesus said: But I love you.

So here's the end of the story: I think after wandering around for a year and a couple months, the Spirit is leading me back... because His grace is there, and His grace is enough. We'll see how it goes.

I'm like a mix of the prodigal son and Jonah. I ran away from God's calling to love people and then checked out the big sexy churches instead. But you know what's really incredible?

Humble people who are obsessed with the love of Christ.

My brothers and sisters watched me run away and check out other big sexy churches after I basically told them, "Cya later! I'm moving on to something 'better' "... and yet they are also the ones who are welcoming me back, with immense joy.

Forgiven people. There's something about them.

Man, following Christ is pretty crazy stuff. You have no idea how hard I've been trying to run away from certain things. HA. But I seriously feel like I was eating with the pigs and then somehow came to my senses to realize the richness I had left behind.

Yet God is really good. These months of wandering around for a bit was necessary. Stay tuned for the story on that. :)

Goodies

Joy in Christ thrives on being shared. That is the essence of Christian joy: It overflows or dies.

John Piper, When I Don't Desire God

I don't want my life to be explainable without the Holy Spirit.

Francis Chan, Forgotten God

Love Is Here

Pretend that we're back in 3rd grade and it's "Show and Tell" time. You're sitting on the ugly classroom rug and it's your classmate Victoria's turn to share with the class. Just picture me dressed in...I dunno, a pink t-shirt and overalls with pigtails. Real hard to imagine, I know. Especially the overalls.

With a HUGE smile on my face I pull something very large out of my bag, my Mary Poppins bag. I pull it out with much ease, because I was born with MAN! muscles. And the whole class gasps, because...

I pulled out my family dining table.



And this is my speech:

HELLO class. This is my family's dining table. We bought it at a local furniture store in the center of town for one thousand dollars. Every night, my family eats our dinner here.

I AM SO PROUD OF THIS TABLE!

Okay, I'm done with pretending. I'll just talk about this table now, as if I were 23.

At this table, I have learned what it's like to be loved. It's where I've felt safe, after many years taking it for granted. This is where I have seen my family at its best, and at its worst. I have learned at this table that trusting God doesn't mean that we're always happy, it doesn't mean we're constantly smiling. But I've learned that trusting God is a joyful stillness as we wait for God to show Himself faithful, time and time again.

This table is the setting of my most vivid memories with my family.

I remember staying up until 2am one school night with my dad, as my father did my entire science project for me because I didn't understand parallel circuits...heheheeee.

I remember getting in major trouble at this table.

I remember laughing so hard that a grain of rice flew out of my left nostril. Let me rephrase that. It SHOT out of my left nostril.

I remember how tasty that Taiwanese cowtail dish with the carrots and celery is. Mmmmmm...

I remember feeling so good on the inside when I told a joke and my parents started to cry from laughing. This was a pretty big deal, because I laugh exponentially more than the rest of my family.

I remember feeling so helpless at the table when my family was led into desert seasons of silence and confusion.

I remember everyone in the family crying, not all at once, but we cry. Tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears of shame, tears of love- the tears that just come with vulnerability.

It is at this table that my family has forgiven each other. It is here that we confess our fears and our mistakes. It is here that we have learned to laugh at life after crying a lot about it. Here, we realize that apart from the love of Christ, we are absolutely nothing.

I have found that the more vulnerable we are with each other, the richer our experience at the table.

I tell my family everything. And I realize...that's weird. I come from a strange family. My coworkers think I'm weird when I tell them how much I love eating dinner with my family. But I feel safe at this table, safe to be me, and nothing but me.

If there were only one tangible thing I could save from my home, it'd be this table.

In many ways, this table has pointed me to the sweetness of fellowship with Christ.

Hanging out with Jesus is kinda like dinnertime with my family. The more I have done it, the more I have been assured that Jesus loves me, just as I am. The more time I spend with Him, the more His grace is apparent. The more I chillax with the Lord, the more I just thirst for MORE Jesus, and...coffee :) Because the more vulnerable I am with Him, the richer my experience at the table.

It is in my hiding place with my family, with my Jesus, that I am most free. And it's addicting, man!

And just imagine, the true feast we will have in Heaven!!! :D

P.S. If any of you know where I could find a chair that complements the table (see picture), let me know, PLEASE AND GRACIAS! (dark green backing and legs, mahogany butt seat) One of the chairs broke when we moved to the west coast. Whenever I drive home on weekends, I have to sit on a lame non-matching folding chair during dinnertime (ALSO IN PICTURE LOL).

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world. -Jesus

Writing

Writer's Block, in plain English.

Moonkyung: it's like constipation
ha
i always felt like i was constipated when writing
rarely diarrhea
but i just had to push it out
ha
gross
me: lol
yea
i had diarrhea writing splurges
a couple times with this personal statement thing
so luckily i'm not starting from nothing tonight
but i'm like trying to mix my diarrhea from two nights
into one solid poo

Bored?

Donald Miller's Blog

Even if you're not bored, do yourself a favor and read.

True Story Part II

On Saturday morning, I called my family, just to say hi.

Mom: Hey, I was just going to call you.
Me: Oh yea?
Mom: I found a church for you to check out. I think it may be a good match.
Me: Interesting…
Mom: It’s called Chinese ... Church
Me: MOM, CHINESE?!?!? CHINEEEESSSEEE?!?! You know I don’t like Asian American Christians!

FREEZE. Let’s rewind a little bit. Kdfj;klsgjhlkajf;lgkajf;lkadjf;lkaj.

For the past month or so, I’ve been checking out different churches in the Bay Area. Of course, being the extreme female that I am who over thinks just about everything, plans in advance, AND forgets that God doesn’t ever work the way I expect, I secretly had a recipe for my ideal church in mind. Laugh at me, but I seriously have been looking for one with:

1. A predominantly white congregation. The less Asian American Christians, the better.
2. A super funny white pastor because white people are so funny. It would also help if the pastor had a Texan accent, liked sports, and quoted a lot of the other awesome pastors that I like, because those characteristics would just make him so cool. Like, SO COOL.
3. A worship team better than Hillsong United because I thought the worship team at the SJ church I attended was better than Hillsong.

Dude. Sounds blasphemous, doesn’t it?! Looking for all the “unimportant” things. Yup, I’m preeeetty superficial.

As much as I didn’t want to go to a Chinese church, if there was anything I learned in college, it was that my parents are wiser than me. So, I reluctantly took my parents’ word for it and checked out this Chinese church on Sunday morning. My prayer before service: “God, I need to hear the gospel today.”

My mom had made it sound like the English congregation would be full of Chinese working young adults. To my surprise, although there were some younger people, the majority of the congregation had gray hair.

Not only did they have gray hair, but these old people also…spoke PERFECT ENGLISH! WHAT THE CRAZY?!

Having grown up in suburban Massachusetts, any Asian above the age of 40 was probably a fob because they were the parent of one of my friends. So, hearing grandpa-aged Asians speaking perfect English…was wicked strange, but ahaha, really cute! A church full of white-washed old Asian people- who would’ve ever thought?!

Anyways, long story sorta short- these old people had this genuineness to their demeanor that really struck my young foolish heart. Just one look at these elderly people and their eyes would tell you, “Jesus loves me, this I really know.” Their Jesus faith and friendliness just seemed…real, and this realness was incredibly refreshing.

So although I was just about ready to discredit almost all Asian American Christians forever, God told me in a still small voice:

Christ in me, the hope of glory.

God reminded me Sunday morning that the only hope anyone had in being any good was in Christ alone. The reason why these elderly Asian Americans seemed to get it was because they had Jesus living in them for all these years, and in Him, they had been transformed. They’ve been refined over and over, and the mustard seed of faith that was planted in them in the 1960-70s had blossomed into good FRUIT.

It’s pretty cool when a face by itself can tell you this: “This journey of faith hasn’t been easy, but it’s been so damn good, because my God is alive and amazing.”

And so the moral of part two of my true story: there is hope for all broken people who have Jesus as their Savior, even Asian American Christians, because God’s people are always in construction. And while I would like to think that the solution to phony Christianity is to avoid all phony people, the truth is: I need to pray.

Side Note:

You know how I love stealing quotes and ideas from old people?

I got a great idea from an old deacon dude and I think I’m SO going to steal it! Don’t tell my parents, just yet.

One day, if I ever live to be like…I dunno, 55, I think I’m going to get a tattoo with the Chinese character for “faithfulness.” Because I’m sure God’s goodness will just be so overwhelming by that age that I will want to imprint it on my Chinese skin cells.

Or maybe, I’ll get it at age 25 because I kinda already want one now. On my BUTT! Just kidding. I would never want someone to artsify my butt cheek. Maaaaybe my left arm, because God is faithful to left-handed people, no matter what right handed people say. :P

Hm, artsify. Ha, how’s that for a word. Almost as good as WOWmazing.

True Story

If you're not aware by now, let me give you a little background information. I'm not a fan of Asian American Christians.

Aite, end of background info.

As I was BARTing back to the eastbay on Saturday night, I got stuck in THE car with all the...Asian American Christians. Not just any, but a specific group of Asian American Christians, whom I shall not name.

Anyways, the moment I realize who I'm stuck with for the next 15 minutes...my immediate reaction is like that episode of HIMYM when Robin finds an engagement ring in her champagne and thinks it's from Ted, and she just looks at Ted in terror and says..."No. No, no no no no no no. No NO NO no no no!"

Ha. Yea, that was totally me. Seriously, could I get any more judgmental?

I know the truth. They are my brothers and sisters in Christ. But man...I have little to no love for them, even though I'm just another Asian American sinner saved by the same grace of Jesus.

The feelings of hatred and bitterness towards them and I guess, their entire "culture" in general, has been a deep rooted issue for a couple years now, maybe longer. Probably longer.

And then, this morning, after saying "Good morning, Jesus. I'm really mad at Asian American Christians"...

I opened the WORD to 1 Corinthians 12, because yesterday was ch 11 and tomorrow is ch 13,

22 On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, 23 and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, 24 which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, 25 that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another.

...and I let out a wild MOOOOOOAAAANNN as my face fell flat on my table in disbelief.

Funny, God. You're real funny.

Dude, I 'm missing the gospel somewhere in this heart of mine... There's no way I'm going to be able forgive and love these people on my own.

Likes

1. I think I have this problematic heart issue of idolizing pastors. It's pretty serious.

I get this "pee in my pants" excitement when I read Tim Keller's stuff. I don't really pee in my pants, but you know what I mean, right?

His new book (King's Cross) is excellent, btw...even though I haven't finished it. Oh dude, SO GOOD.

I love how everything keeps pointing back to JESUS and the CROSS.


2. Lately I've been getting home super late everyday because I spend too much time at the gym at night. Not because I looove working out...but because I can't stop watching the cooking channel as I work out. So the next morning, it's terribly difficult to wake up. Why is food so beautiful and captivating?!

Isn't God so good in giving us the ability to enjoy food AND share it with others? Imagine how boring our friends would be if we couldn't eat while they talked.

ahaHAHahahaHAHa.

3. Brandon Jue

IS GETTING MARRIED!

Praise the LORD~?!
Of course, my horse :)

Yay?

I feel like I just signed my life away with 235 dollars.

Oh baby.

Likes

1. Personalized Cards

 

Stupid cards make the holiday a bit more bearable.

TOTALLY my type of humor. Especially the "sinners" part. YES!!! Ahahahaha!

2. Emeryville in the morning

 

Isn't it cool when you look at the morning sky and are reminded how BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL someone is? (ahem...look at the (M)oon)

$0.02 on Bieber

Once upon a time, Bieber was just a kid who sounded like a girl. And I never listened to his stuff again for months.

And then I ended up naming my car after him and paying to watch his movie.

I'll just say this:

As ridiculous as this whole Bieber thing is, I couldn't deny that God has been so gracious to this kid. The way people came in and out of his life is totally evidence that Justin didn't do it alone-- that this crazy life he's lived as a teenager is also by His sovereignty too.

And so YES, I liked the movie- it pointed to how much relationships are really out of our control, yet totally in His grace. How's that for a movie review on Justin Bieber?

And I hate that I'm saying this on a post about Justin Bieber, but re:Grammys last night- LADY ANTEBELLUM!!! WOW :D

Weakness

I hate church hopping.

I'm really good at hiding some of my fears. I bet most of you think I'm this happy social friendly bubbly person. I'm not.

Two of my weird dislikes/fears:

1) Greet one-another time at church.
You know- that time when you have to stand up and make conversation with a stranger for a couple minutes and pretend to enjoy it when you actually hate it.

2) Asian American Christians from Cal.
I'm not kidding. If you're not one of my closer friends, I probably don't like you if you're Christian and Asian and you go/went to Cal. I'm sorry.

Basically, I'm just sick of taking the initiative in relationships.

I visited a church alone yesterday and walked out in tears and almost even drove back to my parents in San Jose so I didn't have to feel so alone.

What a wimp, huh? SO WEEEEEAK!

This is how much I need God's strength.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

God's grace in my life:

A phone call with my parents, during work, outside the work building.

My family's version of a 3-way call: I'm on cell phone with my mom. Dad's on his work phone with my mom. Mom's got both her cell phone and home phone on speaker.
Pretty amazing how my dad can hear me crying through four phones.
Hehehe.

"I could never myself believe in God if it were not for the Cross. In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it?"

John Stott, quoted in Keller's Generous Justice (LIKE!)

Old People That Get It

"His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness." 2 Peter 1:3

It's so true. God provides what we need.

Today was the last Sunday of January. The past five Sundays of this month I helped out with a ministry for autistic children at my parents' church.

I won't lie. It was hard. My heart grumbled, a lot, lot, lot! Not only did I not want to go to my parents' church because I knew no one, playing guitar and singing with these kids was nothing like worshiping with the kids I've worked with in the past. You can sing your heart out and they'd still be staring at the ceiling and chewing on glue bottles.

I would've given up after the first 10 minutes if I had to do it on my own. Yet in the time I spent with these kids, God encouraged me through some of the most generous and patient Chinese adults ever. They would constantly hold the kids' hands and say, "God loves you!" and "God bless you!" even if the kids didn't respond, at all. That's ministry...by faith.

It was the fobby parents trying to sing modern kids worship songs that pointed me towards of the beauty of the gospel. They are the ones who reminded me this what the Kingdom is all about-- loving the "least of these."





Here's another old person quote I really like from Francis Schaeffer's True Spirituality:

A quiet disposition and a heart giving thanks at any moment is the real test of the extent to which we love God at that moment.

Dude, he says it so well, eh?

Something(s) To Keep In Mind

"The older your children get, the deeper they can hurt you."

Uf, that was heavy.

Here's another thing to keep in mind.

Yesterday, I was having one of those "meeehhh, life sucks" days.

When I got home and checked my mail, I found a card from one of my friends. She really knows how to make my heart smile. This was just the envelope!




And God was like, "Don't be stupid. Life doesn't suck. I'm so good to you."

So here's what to keep in mind:

Are you being stupid today?

:)

Likes

A good day.

1. 880N + sunset + San Francisco



2. motivation to cook + motivation to grocery shop + shrimp + linguine + wine



3. sad face + Jets jersey = SUPER like. hahahahha :P

There's a Cry in my Heart

And it sounds something like Holy Guaca

Humility

The primary catalyst for spiritual growth: asking for help, from God and others.

Really encouraged and challenged today by these messages , from the young adult ministry of Menlo Park Presbyterian.

Naïve But Mature

Naïve But Mature.

Those are the two words my coworker used to describe me about a month ago. Sounds almost like an oxymoron, doesn’t it?

Naïve: I’m not going to deny it, I grew up under a rock, I’m frikin’ 23 years young and know nothing about what life is really like.

Mature: HAHA! Ask my parents for an accurate assessment...

Anyways, it’s been about 7 months since I started working full time.

Today, I am very confused. I spent my college years in a bubble within a bubble- a Christian fellowship within a college town.

And now, I really am in just another bubble. I see the same people from 8am until 4pm, Monday through Friday, and oftentimes I still see the same people after work. I love my coworkers, I love talking with them, eating with them, working with them, and they know I love Jesus, but I want SO bad for them to know Jesus.

Recently though, I've been thinking...I don’t think naïve is a word that people would use to describe Jesus.

Even if Jesus were living in the Bay Area in the year 2011, I’m sure He’d be the dude who understood people. Not the “naïve man.”

Yet in being able to understand people, Jesus would also be completely without sin. I doubt He had to get wasted to earn people's trust. And I don't think He really would need to be hippest guy to love others either. I'm sure He wouldn't have to be caught up on the latest gossip to have an engaging conversation. But I think he would be sensitive in recognizing the things people care about today yet he'd still be preaching the same gospel message.

Since moving to Emeryville, I’ve been convinced that God is here in the bay area. In college, I didn’t really believe it. I thought God was mostly in Asia and that I had to go overseas to find Him there.

But He’s in the Bay Area!

I’ve been terribly spoiled and I live in a place where I get to see this (see picture below) everyday and then I’m reminded daily that God is totally HERE, NOW.




I go on my runs and I’m just like HOLY COW, GOD IS SO BIG. I see Oakland, Berkeley, San Francisco, all at once. Full of imperfect, weird people, yet also God’s beloved people. And God is HERE.

I just don’t know how to show these people around me that the gospel that changed my life as a “naïve but mature” girl is the EXACT same gospel that is reaches them where they are, as well. How can I point out that God is here...that we're all messed up, but loved?

But something else also occurred to me in recent weeks...

I’ve pretty much been trying to figure this out alone.

I ran a marathon a month ago. It was a really awesome experience, but something I really wish I could’ve had was a running buddy.

I wish I could’ve exclaimed to a friend how miraculously beautiful the weather was.
I wish I could’ve told someone, “Oh my God, I have to poo!” at mile 20, because it was pretty ridiculously funny.
I wish I could’ve had someone with whom I could push through the last 6 miles of the 26.2 and cross the finish line, only to feel our legs seize up in crazy cramps. It's so cool!

This Christian journey can’t be run alone. Jesus never intended for us to follow Him on our own. He sent out His disciples, two by two. He wanted His beautiful bride, the church, to show the world what His Kingdom is all about, as a BODY of believers.

For the past year, I’ve been going to a humongous church alone. And I’m convicted that it’s time that I find a real church- not that the one I go to now is not real, heaack it’s one of the most down-to-earth churches I’ve ever attended and I love it!

BUT it’s not a church for me- it’s not a people. It’s a great sermon, an awesome worship set, a place I just go to every Sunday. It’s also an hour away from my home.

So here’s the point of this entire blah blah blah blog post. To ask for your prayers- I’m looking for a community of believers who have this vision to show people that God is right here, right now in the Bay Area.I doubt it's just going to happen when/if I find a church- community always takes a long ass time to develop, especially after schooling life, and to make things harder, I detest church hopping.

2011. Not sure what this year will look like at all. I usually don’t make new years resolutions, but my hope is that I will at least find some “running buddies.” :)

6 More Years

Lady (looking at my sister and me, talking to my mom): The older one looks like dad, the younger one like mom.
Mom: Oh really? Most people say the opposite.
*awkward pause*

She thought my sister was the older one.

My sister is SIX years younger than me...and she's still in high school.

Despite having lived six years longer than this girl...I realized that there really is no one in the world who just gets you better than your sibling.

I spent 16 hours with this girl at Disneyland last week. While we stood in lines, we didn't talk the entire time because we didn't have to. She would do her AP French homework, and I just read my book. We'd make a comment every couple minutes and go back to doing our own thing. And then we'd go on a ride after standing in line for an hour. My sister would be silent as I would laugh and scream and she'd laugh occasionally, but only at me. We're used to that type of dynamic in our relationship, and it's totally cool.

Completely different people. But still sisters.

I like that that I don't have to prove myself to be anyone that I'm not in front of this 17-year old, even though I know I am completely different from her. And even though I'm 6 years older, I think she's really my best friend. Not because I tell her everything and she tells me everything...but we just GET each other.

Couldn't have asked God for a better sibling.