Jesus: The Aloha God

I was on the beautiful islands of Kauai and the Big Island in Hawaii and stumbled upon this book at a gift shop off the road. The title eludes me at the moment but the message of it is as clear as day. It was book by a gentleman who wrote about the meaning of "Aloha". It really caught my attention because I did not realize the deeper meaning of the word "aloha" other than a polite hello and good-bye meaning in Hawaii.



Some of what I can recall was not only the beautiful photographs associated with each meaning but each "life" definition. The author talked about how aloha is doing the right thing in the midst of others who are doing wrong. It's about being kind-hearted to fellow man, taking care of the earth, being wise, loving, patient, and forgiving. To do right in the face of wrong.



As I stood amidst the racks of t-shirts, beach mats, and colorful souvenirs in that shop, I had to smile as I closed the book and placed it on it's own rickety shelf because I now believe that Aloha is another name for the ways of my Jesus.

Annoyingly Good Books That Ask You to Change Your Heart

“Preach the gospel always; when necessary use words.” - St. Francis of Assisi

“We have shrunk Jesus to the size where He can save our soul but now don’t believe He can change the world. – Anonymous

“Two thousand years ago, the world was changed forever by just twelve. It can happen again.” Richard Stearns, "The Hole in Our Gospel".



I hate when I read books that leave you no choice but to re-examine and probe at your own heart and intentions and everything that makes up the core of your very being.



I hate it even more when I find out that I'm not quite where I thought I was and that I have been sunken into complacency for longer than I realized. It sucks.

I just finished reading a book called "Crazy Love" by Frances Chan. This book got me thinking and actually did its job of cornering me with questions of where I stood in my own relationship with God. If what I have with God now has evolved into a habitual religion--the very thing I was trying to avoid. It's a bummer to be cornered with questions like that. It made me really appreciate the book and at the same time want to shut the book and hide it under something so it wouldn't come out and ask me those questions again.



A Jesus freak and close friend of mine, who has also read "Crazy Love" and liked it deeply, suggested that I read "The Hole in Our Gospel" by Richard Stearns, former CEO of Lennox. She basically told me that if "Crazy Love" made me feel a bit crappy, The Hole In Our Gospel would really might “lovingly” make it worse, i.e, would challenge me in a way that’s necessary, but uncomfortable. I am barely a few pages into Richard Stearns book and already I want to bury it along with "Crazy Love" so that it won't force me to look in the mirror and ask myself some tough questions.

Please hear me when I say this, especially if you don't consider yourself Christian or a God-believer or into that "religious stuff". When I say that that these books made me feel crappy I say it with a bit of a laugh because it's actually a good thing that I have this realization of just how flawed I am and how much deeper I could get with God. I don't think God, let alone these authors, are intending to make people believe there is no hope for them and that it’s your fault the world is the way it is. Rather, I think what they're saying and even begging the world is to take the time to shake up their belief and see if the foundation strength is where it should be. Especially if you've claimed the label "Christian".

As I turned the pages of Crazy Love and now am turning the pages of The Hole in Our Gospel, I am reminded that sadly, I've become lukewarm for a God who has a burning and passionate love for me from the moment I was a mere thought to Him. A Holy God that deserves no less than everything from me. It's a humbling type of unconditional love that I've barely understood a fraction of. It's like I want to say "Wow, God. You're so, so awesome. And I can't believe I actually suck this much! But wow, you still want me near you? Really?"

Again, I can't describe it. Pick up Crazy Love and The Hole in Our Gospel. This is a shameless plug for these books but I promise you it'll give you more than just a good heart tug. It'll actually make you want to do something with what you've read.

Missing Teeth and Peanuts

My niece is super polite. And it’s amazing how an overflow of manners and gratitude can really make you feel like someone special. I think feeling special and valued is such a rare feeling these days that one feeds off of the feeling if it’s given. Even if the giver is a 7 year old.
She seriously thanked me for every tiny thing I did that she asked for when I spent an afternoon baby-sitting her. She was hanging out with me in the hours before I was to take her over to her grammy’s for the evening and part of the hangout time required that I give her her evening bath. My niece has this full head of crazy hair that, if wet, can weigh down and make it just a bit hard to clean and shampoo on her own. Hence, she asked that I help her and thanked me immediately after I’d helped her rinse the last of the bubbly suds down the drain.

I write about my niece a lot because I think that kids are the funniest but most accurate window view of humanity. And before inhibition stepped in and created a curtain to this honest view, we all were once kids without holding anything back, flaws and all. I’ve laughed many times over the things my niece has innocently said and many times marveled at her observations of the world around her.

Really, when did we lose this freedom? Sometimes I sit and wonder that, truthfully. Was it around the time I entered kindergarten? How about middle school? High school, even? Wasn’t there such a joy in being able to exercise such an innocent honesty? When something stunk, a kid says “it stunk”. Versus an adult who would hem and haw about the answer and say “it doesn’t smell that bad” when it clearly is a situation that needs a whiff of fresh air. Catch my drift?



There is an incessant longing in me for times of old, when things were a little simpler, people were a little more honest, and the world was viewed a little more accurately. A time of milk and cookies, bright colors that don’t match but were ok anyway, a moment in youth where it was ok to stop and enjoy the sights and smells around you, using the gifts/your sense of smell, sight and touch the Almighty gave you so that you could enjoy what He’s created. Maybe it’ll slow us down a bit, but who said I had to race through life and ignore the God-infused beauty that surrounds me constantly? Sadly and oddly enough, no one told me that. I made that sad decision on my own.

While I can’t reverse time or go back to a season in my life where it was ok to be missing your front teeth and grinning proudly in pictures or be rushed to the doctor’s with my mommy because I jammed a peanut up my nose out of sheer curiosity, I’m thankful to have a 7 year old reminder of fun, innocence, and honesty running around in my life, a kid that makes me feel special and appreciated simply because I helped her shampoo her hair.

Only One Thought...

It's late right now. But it's never too late in the evening to just say that God is so good.

I am in pure awe of that idea right now and never get tired of the surprise blessings he sends my way. Or rather, I'm simply in awe of God's ways and how he always writes a story better than any author I know.

Good night, Lord. I love You.

My Reason for the Whole Jesus Thing

I sometimes wonder if anyone who isn't a believer in Christ ever wonder how hard it is for the folks who do choose to follow Jesus. Now, I don't say this in any way that tries to provoke confrontation or anything like that. I think I'm merely expressing this because as a believer, I've been having a hard time lately with this fight/struggle/walk/process, etc...whatever you want to call it.

Or maybe I just need a whine fest?

In any case, I just want to express how freakin' hard it is to grow in God. But how, at the same time, it's a process that I have grown more in than any other process before in my life.

The more and more I actually put effort into my faith walk, the more and more I believe God reveals to me a lot that are continuing works in process in my own heart. The more I ask God to help me to love others the way He loves me, the more I find myself in situations where I'm criticized more, provoked more, annoyed more, you name it. In short, I bug God to make me more like Him and He presents me with situations He goes through, yet still loves the people who put Him through it. I'm laughing a little right now as I type this because I'm reminded of the times where I have found myself a bit prideful that I'm one who posses an unselfish heart, yet I'm learning more and more just how selfish I can be.

Try this experiment. Make note of every situation you were in that you thought you were acting on behalf of the other, whether it's your spouse, your friend, a family member, co-worker, etc. Dig a big further and examine your motives behind it. I don't know about you, but when I took on this experienment even just for a few days, I was apalled and pretty butt-hurt about what I found out. I do things that seem generous, but secretly wanting to receive some recognition for it. I do something but in the back of my mind, a part of me wants to have a right at bragging about it later on. Pretty sick, isn't it? I couldn't believe it.

I've heard many times that if you want to get real with God, take a good look at yourself first. It's speechless at what you'll see. I found that my own self-seeking ways are so deeply ingrained it me that it's disguised in what I thought was genuine generosity, genuine care, and mostly, genuinely self-less.

So what, you ask? Maybe some of you are even muttering "then what's the point? Why try if you're just going to feel like crap about yourself trying to be this good person?"

Well, I asked myself that, too. And what I'm finding from this is not "what's the point? (though I won't lie, I have asked myself that before many times and probably will down the road again), but rather, it's making me realize, "Wow. I really am in need of someone to save me from myself." I don't think God places me, you or I, in these situations to berate ourselves, but rather to lovingly sand away the rough edges of a heart that is born self-serving.

I'm not going to lie. This process downright sucks at times. It's gut-wrenchingly hard even. I can't tell you how hard it was, how many times I've been so upset the few times I chose to do what Jesus would do and want to cry and lash out instead to the person who "wronged" me. These situations hurt, but it's an odd feeling when you realize that you can be just as selfish, wrong, and hurtful as they are. And I think it's in that very moment of realization that Jesus gently says "I went through that, too. I know it hurts."

The major difference between Jesus and me is that He was genuine through and through, especially in the face of opposition, betrayal, unjust and unfair treatment.

I am a work in process believer of Jesus. I make mistakes and am pretty horrible at times. The battle between the desires of myself versus the better desires that come from God are constantly at war with each other. I mean, WAR. Every second my thoughts are in constant "me or them, others or self" battles. It's tiring. It makes me mad at God at times that this process of change, of growth is so hard and painful at times. It's angering, it's humbling, it's saddening. But at the same time, the victories are great and many, if I let Him take over me, if I run with Him. I've experienced those, too. It makes me continue to believe that this whole following Jesus is worth it and in a way that I still can't explain, extremely painful and joyful all at the same. time.

He Knows My Name, Not Just My Job Title

I finished an intersting book that I'd highly recommend to anyone of any race, age, or background. I think anyone should read it whether or not they think it applies to them. An artist of the writing world by the name of Margaret Feinberg wrote a book called "What The Heck Am I Going to Do With My Life?" The reason why I think anyone can read it is because it addresses the age old question of...you guessed it..."What the heck am I going to do with my life?" And, as Feinberg, eloquently summarizes within the first pages, this is a question that does not go away, no matter how old you are, no matter what job you have, and especially no matter how "far along" you think you've come.

My husband picked up this book for me when I was asking myself that very same question. I was in between jobs, having a lot of things tested, not just financially, but emotionally as well.

I titled this particular blog entry "He Knows My Name, Not Just My Job Title", primarily because I was suddenly reminded of that song that states "He knows my name, he knows my every thought...." (some of you might know it)

I struggle with a lot of questions about who I am at times. And I think it's such a struggle because I immediately equate that to "what" I do and bottom line, God doesn't see it that way and never did from the moment He created me. Before I started adding all the stuff after my name such as Rona the college student, Rona who got good grades, Rona who works here, there, has gone there and will go here, and even the bad things such as Rona who failed at this, Rona who should have done this instead of that, God knew me differently, in a way that was simple and enough for Him.

He knew my name. Nothing coming after it, no labels/job titles/stereotypes/accomplishments/degrees/shortcomings,etc. He knew my name first before anything else.

As I read the words of Feinberg, I'm reminded of that simple and pure truth. That while the question of "What the heck am I going to do with my life?" won't go away and I'm still searching for the answer with hope, I can rest in the truth of how my God saw me first. Simply as Rona. Because bottom line, He knew my name first and that is enough for Him.

No Regrets

It was a normal day at work. Busy, good type of busy. I think I may have written about my co-worker in prior blog postings, but if I haven't, I probably should do that a little here before going off on a story that makes absolutely no sense.

One of my colleagues, a fundraiser I am an assistant to, is in the stages of cancer that apparently is the "bad" stage. Stage 4, mestastisie? I'm probably not spelling that right, but basically, as I was told, it's the stage in which any treatment that's given at this level is primarily done to contain it. Meaning, it's spread in a really bad way.

I don't know much about cancer. Thankfully, I don't have any close family or friends that have gone through it. But for some reason, upon hearing the transalation of medical terms that would explain where my colleague's health stood in her fight against this disease, all I was aware of at that moment was a sinking feeling in my gut that said this wasn't good news.

It's been said before that the prayer of faith can heal. And I believe that it has and still believe that it can. But in all honesty, this morning all I thought was "You can't be serious. Is my co-worker going to die? Do I really know someone that could be gone next year?" The idea seemed unreal.

Later on in the day another colleague of mine commented on how there are certain things that you could never regret. And a part of my mind started to think about the saying "Don't do anything you'll regret". What about flipping or twisting it around to instead say "Do everything that you won't regret."

"Do everything that you won't regret." I wonder if this thought is running through the mind of my co worker who is going through her cancer treatments. Someone made the observation that when you're time is suddenly limited, your "to-do" list is shorter. I'd imagine it is very much tied into the concept of doing everything and anything that you won't regret, and doing it today, not as a task for tomorrow.

I wonder if I look at life in such a way that sounds as cautious as "don't do anything you'll regret" or in a way that seems to give you the right kind of joyful freedom--Do EVERYTHING today that you won't regret. My co-worker's situation was a stark reminder to me that I don't often remind myself enough of that very concept.

Do EVERYTHING and anything today that you won't regret.

I Finally Accepted My Filipino Roots

I don't mind being Filipino. I don't mind having a tan. Pasty has never been a good look for me, anyway. Maybe it's because I grew up in the melting pot of California. The good ol' Bay Area. I like it here.



I don't mind Filipino food...but I like Italian and Japanese better. Though I've felt like this, I went through a period of change when I started to resent certain Filipino cultural habits. There really isn't an emphasis on working out, exercising to be healthy, doing things other than the weekend family gatherings where you eat, eat, eat, and later leave the party with the perfume of fried food mercilessly clinging to your clothes. And exercising? Come on now. Oily pork and constant cardio work don't exactly get along.

As I grew older, I also started to grow disenchanted with the Filipino cultural obligations of demanded respect for elders no matter how screwed up they acted, how much I disagreed with them, for endless bouts of favoritism, nepotism, admiration based on material wealth that was apprent in Filipino social circles, etc.

I mean, I like big houses and all...somewhat. But big impressive houses that still had the lingering scent of fried pork stuck to the beautiful furniture? (As you can tell, I have an aversion to fried piggy anything)

But somewhere in the clouds of my cynicism, did these opinions of my Filipino kinfolk start to chage. Maybe it was the couple of missions trips I took to the Philippines. Maybe it was finally breaking out and getting to know other people other than the Filipinos I grew up with.



Maybe it was starting to get to know other Filipinos who weren't so typical in my negative stereotype. I don't know. All I know is that again, somewhere down the line, I went back home to my roots with a little more of an understanding heart.

A few weeks ago, I had to stop into an Asian grocery store. (mostly Filipino influenced) I think it was to pick up a few items that are ridiculously expensive in American supermarkets and super cheap at non-American stores such as this one I found myself in that afternoon.

I distinctly remember the scent of the cooking rice and baked goods coming from the adjoining restaurant& bakery. This scent happily danced past the radar of my own, rounded, Filipino nose. In that brief encounter, I remember smiling to myself because it reminded me of the warm feeling that the scent of dinner and warm rice could bring when I walked into my own home growing up.

Shortly before this interesting encounter at the market, I had just returned from a trip to the Philippines...the island of Mindanao to be exact. It was for a missions trip through my church.

I remember the offensive smell of diesel fuel, the sometimes irritable and patient-testing crowds of people I had to get past in a crowded town market, the malnourished dogs that often graced all the non-existent sidewalks in the streets of this island's poorest towns.

Want to talk public transportation? If you've ever been to the Philippines, you know the value of a vibrant and colorful, half jeep/half bus mutant of a vehicle called a jeepney. It's your best friend when trying to get from point A to point B with a team of people in the "crazy-driver" streets of the Philippines. Intersection stop lights shining red are not a rule but rather a mere suggestion to all who dare to take on the driving challenges of this country that make the traffic of New York seem like a cake-walk...er, cake drive?

But I also remember that in the midst of this poverty, the crazy traffic, etc., there were people there who loved God more than I did. This love showed boldly through their actions, their servant-driven hearts, and their willingness to greet you as an honored guest no matter what pricky, self-serving attitude you may have dragged in through their country's front door. Am I revealing a little bit too much of what I myself dragged in when I went on this trip? (as a "Christian" missionary, no less?) Oh well. I concur, sadly, that this wasn't the best side of me coming out.

Anyway, I digress. At the market, a month or so after returning from the trip, a sudden flood of memories drown my thoughts in a split second. And for a moment, as I'm standing in this Filipino market, I miss the Philippines. In the middle of that market here in the U.S., I miss the noise of the country, the heart and innocence of the poor, yet God-fearing people. I even miss the heckling market folks that sold everything from knock-off purses, bootleg movies (some of which I didn't even know were out of the theaters yet!), the best accessories at the cheapest price, (I love my earrings!), and every imaginable color of Jesus statues you could think of. (yes, really!)

As I continue on the with the purchase of my few items in this market, loading my items carefully onto the checkout stand, I suddenly find myself at peace with being Filipino and coming from a background that has greatness, interesting and often humorous characteristics, and yes, even it's negative quirks. But what culture doesn't?

Let's hear it for fried pork! Mabuhay!

Thoughts on Relationships...Well, mine anyway...

I am engaged to marry a great guy. (hi, Justin! Never thought I'd write that would you?)

No, seriously. I really do have a great guy. A godly guy. For you girls out there young, matured, who know what I'm talking about can I please get an "AMEN" to the blessings a godly man can bring? Really. There's nothing in Hollywood that can match the greatness of being in such a relationship.

A book I recommend outside the Bible that I believe helped me turn my heart back over to God? The Secrets of an Irresistible Woman by Michelle McKinney Hammond. Ms. Hammond, thank God for your gift of insight. Thank you for writing what you wrote and for having the guts to tell it like it is. Did I tell you that I am one of your biggest fans?

Can I have your autograph?

I remember the first time I read this book, I was in a relationship that was not Godly at all. Oh, don't get me wrong, I wasn't an atheist, or anything, just a girl who grew up with religion and no Jesus relationship.


I am by no means a perfect woman now. But I would like to say that quite a few things have changed in my life because the God that I barely gave a second glance at, kept His entire focus, attention, love,k and mercy upon me as I ran around dragging my mess everywhere. Let me just say that years of garbage dragged around starts to leave a noticeable stench in the places I chose to stop and rest at before I finally dumped the trash bag and headed back home to God.

The walk was not and is still not easy to this day, but as each day passes, I am grateful that at the very least, as I walk, my steps are a bit lighter without the weight of the trash bag. Much lighter.

I was single for two years, just enjoying life, kinda poking around at a Christian church my mom took the entire family to. I re-met my soon-to-be husband at a 20 Somethings ministry he lead for his church. Started to date. Now we are planning for our wedding coming up very soon. Time truly flies.

Never knew a Godly relationship until him. Haven't been as happy, as struggling, as wrestling with God, as growing as much as I have experienced in this relationship.

I look back on who I was before God and what it caused me to carelessly do with my heart. And I am thankful that I serve a God that loves me enough gently turn my eyes forward towards "a hope and a future". (Jeremiah 29:11)

Breathing

I breathe everyday. It means my body is living, existing in the physical sense. It comes natural to me and I don't think about it 99.9% of the time. Except for that time an undercurrent took me by surprised and I ended up eating the sand of the beautiful Hawaiian beach.

It's at times like that that you do nothing but thank God for giving you a second chance at oxygen instead of life as a fish.

But I digress.

The reason I mention breathing is because I've started to read 1 Corinthians. Up to about Chapter 6 is where I stopped, I think.

The Apostle Paul talks about some pretty good stuff in this book, in my opinion. I'm still mulling it over in my mind as we speak. So be forwarned, my own words do no justice for the depth and heart tugs this book in the Bible communicates. He talks about the church getting along with each other, how it's a shame that it's us on the "Jesus-side" who are living less than ideally and how it's an embarassment that the "outsiders" are actually seeing such behavior of so-called Christians. (1 Coritnthians 3)

Paul goes on to talk about other great things such as "(our) faith not resting on human wisdom, but on God's power." (1 Corithians 5) and how "(The) foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength." (1 Corithians 25) To be honest , I read this and thought, wow. God's that wise that even if He had a weakness, His "weakness" would still be stronger than our strength. Think about that for a second. So this is what is meant when we say Almighty and Indescribable. Incredible.

As I'm reading all of this, I'm suddenly reminded of a small comment I heard from one of my dear colleagues. This wasn't a snide comment by any means, but one that, this evening, got me thinking to how it related to what I'm reading right now in the first few chapters of Corinthians.

My colleague and I were chatting about the fact that I would be in Arizona a few weeks ago with my fiance to visit with our pastor, the Yoda Pastor Mike. (Just kidding, P. Mike) Really, P. Mike is like Yoda, wise and all in the teachings of Jesus. But less green and a little taller.

Anyway, as I mentioned this to my colleague she joked around and said that my fiance and I would have to behave and be good in front of the priest. Well, besides the fact that P. Mike isn't a priest, I got to thinking about how that comment reflected much of how a majority of the world, even those "within" the church view a relationship with God. And many times, though I hope I'm changing, I too get caught up in that whole idea that when I'm in front of God, I have to put effort into an act because He's looking at me.

I don't want that life anymore. I want a life, a whole life, a holy life, a full life, where my words to myself and to others, my actions, my thoughts, every second one foot steps out in front of the other to even walk is purely motivated, saturated, and drowned in nothing but a Jesus-like covering.

I'm naturally a sinner. I was physically born a sinner into this world. But now that I know Jesus, I want to naturally be Jesus-motivated, so much that His very Spirit takes up my physical body and spritual body. So much that Jesus comes out as naturally from me as if I'm breathing Jesus. Just as I breathe air with almost no thought throughout every day that I live on this earth--that's how much I want Jesus to be so engrained into my bones that He is naturally a part of me.

Don't get me wrong. There are days when it seems effortless to be Jesus-like and still others when the percentage of Jesus in me is miniscule in comparison to the percentage that's Rona. And I've accepted the fact that it will be up and down like this until the day I get to go Home. So for the time being, I desire to keep walking with Jesus until my walk picks up and I'm running freely in stride with His every step, in line with His very way, in tune to His great music, and moving faster than I ever thought I could.

I don't want the life any more of putting an effort to be good because God's in front of me. Who wants to live in that type of prison, a prison that isn't real and doesn't take full advantage of the new life He's given us? I want to communicate to outsiders a great representation of Jesus. A great representation of His church reflected by the new life I have been given. (1 Corinthians 11)

I want to get to a point where that effort to be "good in front of the Holy Priest" is re-directed in keeping up keeping pace with wonderful stride of God's greatness and love. And in that running I will do with the Lord, He will be a part of the very depths of my life as naturally as the air I breathe with each stride.

Middle of the Day

These past few weeks as I've pushed on with my Christian faith, I have started to become more and more aware of things that show just how much sin, big and small (is there such a thing), is such a natural part of my existence it's scary. It's pretty mind blowing what God reveals to you about yourself if you ask.

Even if what's revealed to you isn't exactly perfection, asking God to show you something about yourself, all the good and yes, all the areas that need his loving touch to heal and change, (I like to sometimes think I'm a good and sweet Christian...and who doesn't?), it's a question worth asking.

I don't know why I want to blog about that at this moment. A brief ramble in the middle of a day that is just a bit too monotonous for my liking.

Creating

I like photography.

I'm just an amateur with a hobby, but love the sound of the camera's shutter, no less. It's like a song of some sort, the clicking away of a camera's shutter as it's lenses and mechanical intricacies attempts to capture a message from the scene around me.



Colors, accents, observing the paints and color streaks of God's handiwork in people, places, nature, down to the simplest of detail, anything aesthetically pleasing--I'm so there.


I love how God is Almighty, too big for me to understand. It's tough following the steps and ways Jesus. It's tough trying to live beyond a label of religion and really dig deep to the point of confusion at times. It's tough loving and accepting people around me that I don't agree with or get along with. It's even harder being reminded that on the flip side, God loves me even if He doesn't agree with the things I do and say, too, at times.


I like the art of words. I sometimes wish my pen would move as fast as my thoughts across a canvas of paper. (Typing helps somewhat to fulfill that wish.) Love how the perfect blending of each letter and sentence intertwined have the power to communicate into the hardest of hearts. How the blending of words can also have the power to construct & piece back together in a person what cutting words of the world have tugged apart. It's no small wonder that the Bible clearly says "The tongue has the power of life and death..." (Proverbs 18:21)

It's amazing how a properly constructed group of letters, glued together with God's great and Holy Spirit can build back meaning into a soul that has known nothing but the meaningless.

I believe that God is an artist, the best one. He is an artist of words as well as of the things that visually captivates His creation. I wonder sometimes what He thinks when He watches each of us experiment, get curious about something, make something, add to something, even try and try again.

I wonder if God feels the same type of feeling that I see in my sister's eyes when she observes my niece's small hands write out the letters of her name or draw out the lines and details of a new picture she will proudly present to her mommy.

Amazed.

My Psalm

So, I hate that weird moment when you’re caught up in a discussion and the topic of talents, what you like to do, what you’re known to do, comes up. I had one of those moments and I think the nudity of my insecurity freaked me out just a smidge as I felt the conversation start to take off the layer of covers that discreetly hid this tiny thing I think is a flaw: I absolutely have no idea what my talent is or what is it I’m meant to “do”.

I’ve had a few distinct moments in my life where a conversation went something like this “Whether it’s being an artist like Jean, a great comedian like Samuel, a teacher and counselor like Leanna, and (here is where the speaker’s eyes shift to me and you can almost see the split second of hesitation as they suddenly are left wondering “um, wait, what can I say for you, Rona?” BUT thinly disguised in the segway of “Um, and yeah, everyone has something to contribute to worship God with! Be encouraged!".

I almost felt bad for that speaker that my presence stumbled them. Almost.

Perhaps I’m too much of an observer, but I can’t help it, I notice these things. And while it’s no fault of the current speaker in the conversation taking place among innocent friends, because I notice them, it makes something in me flinch that I’m not quite clear exactly on what it is that I, am purposed to do.

And as I ponder this in the hot shower on a winter day (I do most of my deep thinking with the bubbles of shampoo stinging my eye), I am reminded by God that I am not a human doing but rather a being, “fearfully and wonderfully made”. Gosh where is that written?

Hold on….oh yes, here:
Psalm 139:14”I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”

Though truth is told in this Scripture, as the last of the shampoo bubbles drain away with the water and I stare at my toes on the shower tub floor, I still can’t help but say “Yeah, but God, come on. This bites. It’s a little cringing to think that I feel a lack of identity in these types of conversations that randomly come up with people.” And then the Spirit says, "but your identity isn’t in what you do, it’s in who you are.” To which I immediately say “well, who am I? Oh, yeah, daughter of God. Sorry, I forgot for a second, God.

Before you start thinking I'm crazy, please understand that I talk to God so much in my mind that it sometimes feel as if the thoughts are going to leak out my ears and actually reveal themselves to someone.

Though God’s reminded me that I am "fearfully and wonderfully made", that my identity is “Rona, God’s daughter”, I go back and forth sometimes on how much that truth is enough for me. I feel like an untapped source of stuff that just wants to go out and try the things I think I was given. Anytime I feel remotely close to what I think is “it”, I am pulled back by, I’m not experienced, I don’t have the money to pursue it, what if it’s just a whimsical thought like everything else, I lack the discipline to follow through, I don’t want to invest the time because it’s returns will be nothing, etc. And I know I can’t get caught up in that. Otherwise, I’ll never move.

Despite that, I am slowly understanding that if I fall flat on my face moving forward instead of falling simply because my knees got locked and immobilized from doing nothing, it's a far better place to be.

So, God, please continue to remind me of who I am in you, FIRST. I need an solid establishment of my identity in you, day to day, every minute. I need this or I can’t pour anything out for your sake. Supply me with this need God and when my cup is full of what you’ve supplied, I pray that it naturally is in my heart to pour it onto others, too. I pray that I am given the wisdom, guidance, and discipline to keep worship and relationship with you at the top of my priority list and second, that I am given a clear picture from only you as to what talents I have and how I can use that as you’ve meant for me to. Jesus, plain and simple, I need you and always need your help.

Scramble

I may as well be honest and say that I dread having kids. I’m female so I think I should have some degree of fear every time I think about having kids.

First off, I don’t have a high tolerance for pain. When my sister gave birth to my beautiful niece, she did it with no anesthesia. But that’s my sister and not me. My sister is by far, half man, and has the strength of 10 horses. I don’t even think I have the strength of a pony.

I know that raising kids is full of grief and and at the same time, full of unexplainable joy. I think my mind is still encapsulated on the grief part.

The other day, I spent time with my niece, Nevaeh. She’s six and doing well in school, smart as a whip, and beautiful to boot. Shining personality and I don’t say this because she’s my only niece. (Well, maybe a teeny bit)

My weekend started just the right way with a game of Scrabble with this 6 year old wonder. She’s doing great in the subjects of spelling and reading, but math was going to need a bit off work. Little did I know that Scrabble may just very well be a good practice for both subjects.

Before we immersed ourselves in a game of “Scramble” as she put it, we decided to poke through her toy bin to discover some new toys to play with. I tried to choose a cute puppy, but she kept adamantly insisting that the dog was disobedient and would not listen to me. (I know that this was just her attempt to get me to pick this ugly looking cat instead....and I hate cats)

After much debating, she gives one final attempt to steer me away from the idea of playing with this doggy toy and tells me that the dog had a dirty spot on it. And as I ask her what this diry spot was on this toy she lays down the truth about this poor pup's skin condition.

It's leprosy.

Leprosy. This kid is beyond hilarious and too much for me.

“Scramble” was fun. I watched as she formulated words and put forth efforts into adding the points, doubling and tripling them as each covered square indicated. Every time I get to spend some real time with Nevaeh (time in which my smiling face is, for once, not covering up the 100 mile- a -minute thoughts of what I need to do after I leave), I always feel as if the day was well spent when I rest my head at night. Almost like the one thing important thing to get done today got done.

My mind was actually focused on her and I found myself observing every feature on her face, the long and skinny toes that were proudly a part of the cutest feet that were growing way, way too fast, to the concentrated and thoughtful expressions of her face that communicated to me how even her brain and the thoughts it formulated were growing up and discovering the world.

She’s not my kid and yet she makes me hope that one day, my kids will be just as enthralling as her.

my space, not MySpace

So.

This is blogging. Online journaling. An open piece of online paper. A blank canvas with a choice of words to color the page.

I can see how this can be fun.

I've debated doing this for quite some time. Posting thoughts, posting written work. Much of the words that swam around in my mind ended up in books and books of journals, diaries kept since childhood.

But as 2009 came charging around the corner of the my life, and God knows, I'm about to turn 30 this year, I thought, hey, why not? Life isn't getting any longer. I'll take advantage of time and do something a little different, with a maveric touch. Always wanted to post a thought, always wanted to write, always wanted to have my space that wasn't MySpace.

Thoughts on High School Reunions

Obviously, I wouldn't be writing or delving into this subject, if at the moment, my own high school reunion was not coming up.

Well, duh, it's coming up.

Am I going? I don't know. I really don't want to spend the money to see a whole ton of people that I honestly was not too close to. I still stand by the theory that people go to these things out of curiosity to see who is doing what, how successful they are, and who got fat. Not to toot my own horn about how great and genuine my husband to be is, but I think he's the only who is honestly going because he genuinely wants to say hello to a few friends and not for any of the above reasons I mentioned.

I'm the one who wants to go and see who got fat. Hey, I'll admit it!

High school was not the most pleasant experience for me. And this isn't a knock against high schools or reunions. (I'd much rather go to my college reunion.) It was just that for me, I don't want to re-visit the bad choices I made, the feelings of struggle in my own identity & security, and the ex-boyfriend who I stupidly let influence my life too much in high school. Much of my high school years I felt very, very alone. I think that if I had had a much closer relationship with my parents, or some foundation, maybe it would have been different.

Not to bemoan my lot in life at the time, but sometimes I look back on my high school years and wonder how I could have gotten sunk so low emotionally and still survived. I wonder many times what God was trying to tell me back then and what He though, especially when I was wallowing in my own self-pity mess and making one bad decision after the other. I often wonder why I didi not have someone older or wiser around to encourage me & why I didn't permanently stay the way I did.

The picture of my emotional state at the time of high school was one of bleakness painted on a canvass of stark white. No color. No vibrancy. The way the color of emotion would even start to reveal itself on the canvas of my life at the time was when depression, sadness, insecurity, and rage would emerge. Needless to say,, it wasn't very positive.

My husband to be, on the other hand, did not have that type of experience in high school at all. His high school canvas was filled with color, vibrancy, excitement, and stages of changes in life that made it fun for him. And yes, you guessed it. He's ok with going to the reunion.

Our experiences were like night and day.

My friend emailed me just recently to ask if I was going to the reunion. She just received the e-mail from another mutual classmate of ours. She shares much of my same feelings.

I think that secretly, whether or not you had a great high school experience or not, people are still curious bout your lot in life and how every one's life turned out compared to theirs.

Period.