Saturday, August 21, 2010
Worship
As I am relaxing listening to one of my favorite Hillsong United song "Where your love lasts forever" this thought came to me what is worship? I know many people may have asked this question at church or wherever, but really what is worship? We can say worship is a life style, yes it is but does it go deeper then that? I think it does, worship is surrenderer to God, letting God know here I am ready for you to consume me with your holy fire. As we live our lives as Christians I think it is important to worship God daily. I do not mean to stop what your doing and bow down but to simply worship God but whispering a prayer thanking, praising and recognize His goodness. I have to be honest, I am not perfect I do not do that very often. I would love to stop whatever I am doing a whisper a simple prayer to the one I love. I need to pray that God help me to discipline myself to get that started. But overall, worshiping God is very beautiful. In that moment letting go of everything what has happened in a day and just saying God here I am take me. God let me lift my hands to you and focus on me and you. Finding freedom in Christ, I look forward to worshiping God I can't really describe it, its like a moment of peace, freedom, joy and its overwhelming in a good way. I love the presence of God, I love Him, I long to be in His presence often.
New Season
Wow, summer is almost over, I can't believe I am going back to school. These past few months God has taught me a lot about faith, prayer, trust, obedience and dependence on Him. As I think back on this summer, God really did stretch me. I didn't know that I was going to be where I was obviously. I need to have that faith and trust in Him to know that where He leads me its going to be good. Where God leads me to I want to trust and believe that its going to be good. Even if I do not see it as being good, God always does it for His glory. I mean I can sit here and complain about my life and the bunch of stuff I have been through. But no, I think whoever is going to read this is going to think I am crazy for saying this but I don't regret or would ever want to change that day when I was first sick. I believe this sickness if for the glory of God. God has brought me through a lot of pain and suffering through it His glory is shown. Yes, I have faced death many times but because of Gods faithfulness, protection and love that He has for me he saved me from death.
Like the apostle Paul he had a thorn in the flesh, we do not know specifically what that thorn was but I know that through that pain that tormented Paul God's glory was revealed. In our moments of weakness we find strength in God, to rise us up. I guess I can compare myself to Paul. Paul never gave up on ministry and he was a missionary. I love missions and to those people who know me, I have heart for China. I don't want a sickness to hinder me in ministry, education and my life overall. I mean ya, I go through a lot like I said but even in times of pain, God let your glory be shown. I am not writing this for people to feel sorry for me, but I am writing this to show people that through our trails God is going to make the impossible to a possible situation.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
short story called "Perseverance"
In Nebraska its cold outside and I can’t feel my fingers tips. I feel like I am living in a dream of memories when I was a little girl, playing in the snow and making snowmen. I remember those days as if they were yesterday. My dad was not there he was away serving in the military. My mom was raising my brother, sisters, and myself. It was hard for her to raise all of us because she was always stressed. I could feel her stress even though I was little.
We would go away on vacations without my dad and we would pretend things were normal. My mom tried to give us a normal life but I knew it was not normal. He would be gone up to a year at least. She would always try to keep us busy with after school clubs and sports.I remember always worrying about my dad. Was he safe? Is he thinking about me? Does he want a relationship with me? I never had a dad, but I always wanted one. I remember a specific childhood friend. I was always jealous of her, she seemed to have a perfect life, and she had a family. She admired her father, she told me many great stories about her father, dinners and father daughter dances together. Inside I was jealous because I always longed for a father. She admired him she talked all the time about him. He would pick her from school and spend quality time together. My mind began with questions. I wonder if my father would want to spend time with me? Does he know what I like and dislike? A father should love his children and be committed to them. My dad would call maybe once every four weeks; I would talk to him for a short amount of time. He was making an effort to talk to me. So, did that mean he loved me or did he just do it to make my mom happy? Is that love, going out of your way for someone? Do I love him and want a relationship?
On those cold winter days, the memories come back to me of my childhood. It was a warm fall day my dad just told the family again that he is leaving we won’t see him for nine months or more. This time I didn’t cry, I stopped caring about how I felt when he left. Again, the memories of that day before he left is very clear in my mind. He wanted to take my brother, sisters and myself out with him. But it was different this time; he wanted to go one on one. My dad and I went together for dinner and a movie. It was hard for me to talk to him because I didn’t have a relationship with him. I was frustrated with myself because I pictured this day in my mind so many times. Daddy and I spending quality time together, laughing and having that comfort that he is there for me.
The affects his absence had on me, not feeling loved because my mom had a hard time loving my brother, sisters and myself. I would wish he could come home for a day or two just so I could talk to him and maybe know something important about him. My mind wanders with some many questions I will like to ask him. However, one of my greatest fear I had was does He not love me? And if he truly did love me then why did he never come home or just try to make an effort to come home a little bit? What made him want to join the military and leave behind a family that he never had a relationship with?
Some days I sit in my room, staring at the window trying to picture what he is doing, and what he looks like. My mom has no idea the effect this has on me. However, it will break her heart because I believe her heart is already broken. I will feel horrible if I broke it more. I am afraid to speak my mind to her because his actions have affected the family in a huge way. No one likes to talk about him because its hurts too much.
However, what if I did speak my mind, will that help us? Will it feel better to know that he is alive? I think the fear that he could die and we will never have a chance to see him makes us more worried and hurt so we don’t like to talk about it. Death is dark and gloomy and my mom tries to bring joy and happiness into the house. Therefore, we ignore the negative and try to be positive. Like I said, she tries to give us a normal life but I know she is breaking inside.
One night I woke up hearing someone crying, I walked around trying to figure out where it was coming from. I walked all the way into the living room I hid behind the wall so she couldn’t see me. There she was sitting on the floor crying very hard holding his picture. I felt my heart break all over again but this time it was more intense. I wish I could just run into her arms and cry with her. And tell her that it’s ok to cry.
However, I knew that she tried to cover up her pain and I felt her pain too. However, now I have seen her crying so hard and I could never tell her that I have seen her cry. She always pretends things are normal. However, I am tried of pretending that things are normal. Why can’t she talk to us about her pain? I now everyone is broken, will like to talk to someone about it. I feel we brush off our feelings everyday. Is it normal to keep everything bottled up inside? Who can I talk to? I am done with living in a lie that I am living in that everything is fine.
I am older now I am more aware of my surrounding; with situations. I realized that I never had a father. I still wonder how my life would have been if I did. I don’t want to look for love to fill the missing piece in my heart. I want to learn more about love before I could love and forgive him. Possibly down the road I will love him and want to have a relationship with him. One day when I have a family of my own I want my husband to be the best dad. He could to our children, show our children fatherly love.
We would go away on vacations without my dad and we would pretend things were normal. My mom tried to give us a normal life but I knew it was not normal. He would be gone up to a year at least. She would always try to keep us busy with after school clubs and sports.I remember always worrying about my dad. Was he safe? Is he thinking about me? Does he want a relationship with me? I never had a dad, but I always wanted one. I remember a specific childhood friend. I was always jealous of her, she seemed to have a perfect life, and she had a family. She admired her father, she told me many great stories about her father, dinners and father daughter dances together. Inside I was jealous because I always longed for a father. She admired him she talked all the time about him. He would pick her from school and spend quality time together. My mind began with questions. I wonder if my father would want to spend time with me? Does he know what I like and dislike? A father should love his children and be committed to them. My dad would call maybe once every four weeks; I would talk to him for a short amount of time. He was making an effort to talk to me. So, did that mean he loved me or did he just do it to make my mom happy? Is that love, going out of your way for someone? Do I love him and want a relationship?
On those cold winter days, the memories come back to me of my childhood. It was a warm fall day my dad just told the family again that he is leaving we won’t see him for nine months or more. This time I didn’t cry, I stopped caring about how I felt when he left. Again, the memories of that day before he left is very clear in my mind. He wanted to take my brother, sisters and myself out with him. But it was different this time; he wanted to go one on one. My dad and I went together for dinner and a movie. It was hard for me to talk to him because I didn’t have a relationship with him. I was frustrated with myself because I pictured this day in my mind so many times. Daddy and I spending quality time together, laughing and having that comfort that he is there for me.
The affects his absence had on me, not feeling loved because my mom had a hard time loving my brother, sisters and myself. I would wish he could come home for a day or two just so I could talk to him and maybe know something important about him. My mind wanders with some many questions I will like to ask him. However, one of my greatest fear I had was does He not love me? And if he truly did love me then why did he never come home or just try to make an effort to come home a little bit? What made him want to join the military and leave behind a family that he never had a relationship with?
Some days I sit in my room, staring at the window trying to picture what he is doing, and what he looks like. My mom has no idea the effect this has on me. However, it will break her heart because I believe her heart is already broken. I will feel horrible if I broke it more. I am afraid to speak my mind to her because his actions have affected the family in a huge way. No one likes to talk about him because its hurts too much.
However, what if I did speak my mind, will that help us? Will it feel better to know that he is alive? I think the fear that he could die and we will never have a chance to see him makes us more worried and hurt so we don’t like to talk about it. Death is dark and gloomy and my mom tries to bring joy and happiness into the house. Therefore, we ignore the negative and try to be positive. Like I said, she tries to give us a normal life but I know she is breaking inside.
One night I woke up hearing someone crying, I walked around trying to figure out where it was coming from. I walked all the way into the living room I hid behind the wall so she couldn’t see me. There she was sitting on the floor crying very hard holding his picture. I felt my heart break all over again but this time it was more intense. I wish I could just run into her arms and cry with her. And tell her that it’s ok to cry.
However, I knew that she tried to cover up her pain and I felt her pain too. However, now I have seen her crying so hard and I could never tell her that I have seen her cry. She always pretends things are normal. However, I am tried of pretending that things are normal. Why can’t she talk to us about her pain? I now everyone is broken, will like to talk to someone about it. I feel we brush off our feelings everyday. Is it normal to keep everything bottled up inside? Who can I talk to? I am done with living in a lie that I am living in that everything is fine.
I am older now I am more aware of my surrounding; with situations. I realized that I never had a father. I still wonder how my life would have been if I did. I don’t want to look for love to fill the missing piece in my heart. I want to learn more about love before I could love and forgive him. Possibly down the road I will love him and want to have a relationship with him. One day when I have a family of my own I want my husband to be the best dad. He could to our children, show our children fatherly love.
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