When I try to picture my prayer life this past semester, I imagine something like this:

This isn't a literal graph of my prayer life this past semester (it's actually a graph of my blog views).  But in correlating prayer to this graph, there were moments where prayer was at the center of my daily thoughts, and weeks where spending alone time with Jesus seemed non-existent.  In this realization, the depravity of my humanness becomes more apparent.

But that is not to say that I haven't been experiencing Jesus. On the contrary, God has been showing Himself to me abundantly this past semester. In putting myself out there, in taking risks in my relationships with friends, and in choosing to set foot in new places, God has been there. I have been horrible in creating alone time with Him, and yet He still showers me with blessings. Even in my sin and neglect, He still pours forth His love for me.  God is good to me no matter what I do (or don't do). When I reflect on all He has done this past semester, I can't do much but praise His name.

Through this semester, I'm realizing that there's seasons to our spiritual lives. While prayer should always be at the forefront of our spirituality, it isn't the only time where we can meet God.  Rather, there are times when God calls us to deepen our prayer lives by actively focusing on praying to Him, and times where, when we choose into things God has for us, our prayer lives naturally grow as a result.  While I may not have actively set aside time to be with Him each day, I have been able to meet God through the dozens of conversations I've had with friends over coffee, or through choosing to do something I would never have done at home.  I'm not excusing my lack of actively spending alone time with Him, but I am pointing out the truths that 1) God can make Himself known in whatever way He chooses, and 2) God working isn't limited by what I do or don't do.

Tonight someone gave his life away to the overwhelming pressures of this world. I didn't know him at all...but some people did, and I'm sure some of those people are dearly missing him.

In this sobering and grave situation, I can't help but think of the good friend who passed away days after I arrived here in Australia.  If, by chance, you're reading this from up there, know that you too are missed.

Jesus, only You can satisfy.

It's that 10-day mark before I leave for Australia, and for the last two days I've been lying in bed, wasting time, and watching re-runs of shows I don't even like all that much. Instead of making the most of the time I have left here hanging out with people I never get to see during the school year, making a dent in the pile of books I promised myself I'd read over break, prepping myself spiritually/physically for life abroad, or even finishing that list of to-do's before I head out, I'm here eating not-so-good food watching not-so-funny TV.

Over the last few weeks, my feelings have teetered between panic about what there is left to do and peace that I'm trusting God will work everything out. There's still so much to do before departing (or at least it feels that way) that I don't even know where to start or how to begin.  There's things I have to do, like packing and buying all the necessities, and things I want to do but don't really have to right now, like making that list of places to go and things to see.

But on the other hand, there's really not that much left to do but to go.  And I want to just go. I don't have everything figured out, yes, and as scary as that may be, it's also exciting, interesting, and somewhat peace-giving to know that I'm learning to be less of a J. Not that I'm becoming more of a P necessarily, but I am realizing that I'm becoming more reliant not on myself but on God. Just like in life, you can plan and plan and plan, but you'll never be fully prepared for everything, and sometimes you just have to roll with things and take them as they come.

God's telling me that this is going to be a season of great change for me, and He will show me miracles that my eyes have never seen, grow me in ways I've never thought possible, and love me in ways I've never imagined. But of me He requires the utmost confidence and trust in Him, constant devotion to His voice and every command, and lastly to just ...go.

things i've been ruminating over this break (in a stream-of-consciousness form, so it may not make sense):

- I'm scared to go abroad. Why? I'm realizing that this insecurity comes from the deep-seated comfortable life i've created for myself here and my unwillingness to let it go. I fear how I'll change while I'm over there, the things that will change while I'm gone, what I'll be missing out on, and the completely new life I'll have to create over there, only to leave it again 6 months later. Over and over I hear him ask, "Do you trust me? Do you trust me?" I remember a few months ago clearly stating that I would go wherever He asked, when He asked, because I trust that His plan for me is greater than any plan I have for myself.  Was I naive in thinking that, or have I lost faith?  I feel like I'm going abroad because otherwise I'll regret it, but I'm not too excited about it yet.
- Has my idea of community been altered so much that I've fallen in love with it instead of Him? The conversations I've had with Christian friends are always so great, healing, uplifting. But when I return to the spiritual desert that is my home, I feel like I regress. I know that the progression of my faith can be certainly affected by the people I surround myself with, but is it dependent on them too? ...Is that really even progress then?  Is it even right to judge my faith on "progress?"
- Pressure about my plans for the future have been building up, and my shoulders literally ache of the weight. I'm hard enough on myself, but to have added pressure from family, friends... just about everyone has caused me to search out options out of fear rather than excitement.  I'm horribly afraid that, by the time I figured out what I want to do, I would have missed the opportunity to do it.  I realized that I have been looking for the wrong reasons, and I've forgotten about a God that provides my all when I don't worry but seek first His kingdom. I work so much on hearing Him or feeling what He has to say, but it's hard to hold fast to God and wait on Him when the world/everyone else (and even myself)  tells me to decide before it's too late.
- The words I choose to say.  Ephesians 4:29: "Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear."Jesus straight pierced my heart with that one. The jokes I say, the comments I make about people, the input I choose to give...were they necessary and did they heal?
- Do I really understand what I believe?  Can I articulate it in ways that someone who is not Christian can understand?  I've been struggling with this ever since I came to college, and the quickest answer is "No, not really.

This post was quite sobering. Oh Jesus, teach me about your mercy and grace.

I'm currently reading a book about two lovers who, in the midst of their journey together, find themselves struggling towards God.  At least that's the gist I got from reading the synopsis on the cover (I'm not very far).  As I read this book, I am being reminded that even the most beautiful, loving, ideal relationships one can have are only imperfect reflections of the glorious, enrapturing relationship we'll have with Him in the future...

One who has never been in love might mistake either infatuation or a mixture of affection and sexual attraction for being in love. But when the 'real thing' happens, there is no doubt. a man in the jungle at night, as someone said, may suppose a hyena's growl to be a lion's; but when he hears the lion's growls, he knows damn' well it's a lion. So with the genuine inloveness.

...

We looked at each other with wry grins. Then we kissed each other, a kiss that was pure bliss because of the peril and pain that had torn us. There would be other fights in future years... but always the reconciliation in each other's arms would be such heaven that we wondered whether the joy wasn't worth the agony. The heights and depths. 

- Sheldon Vanauken, A Severe Mercy 

II Timothy 3:2-5

But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty. For people will be:

• lovers of self,
• lovers of money,
• proud,
• arrogant,
• abusive,
• disobedient to their parents,
• ungrateful,
• unholy,
• heartless,
• unappeasable,
• slanderous,
• without self-control,
• brutal,
• not loving good,
• treacherous,
• reckless,
• swollen with conceit,
• lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God,
• having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power.

Avoid such people.

Oh Jesus am I guilty of so many of these things...

I have to be okay with losing friendships.
I need to understand that I am not as close with some people as I used to be, and that's ok.
I want to know the line in which "keep trying" ends and "let it go" begins.
I have to realize that some people have already let it go, and that's ok too.
And I must have grace on myself while I learn how to love in the ways Jesus calls me to.

Sundays with the Beatles

The Beatles have been playing for the last four hours at the Starbucks in which I've been studying.


It reminds me of those Sunday mornings when my dad and I drove to church, and we listened to "The Beatle Years" on FM101.1 the entire 30-minute ride there. Every Sunday, without fail. I could still remember him singing along to "Come Together" while dancing in the driver's seat and slapping his hand against my knee to the rhythm of the song.

And how I got so tired of listening to the same station, same kinds of songs every week. How I told him to stop dancing, put his hands on the wheel, and pay attention to the road. How I wanted to listen to KIISFM instead. How I thought, "Wow, is this really how it's going to be every Sunday? Am I going to have to listen to it every Sunday?"

And now, how "The Beatle Years" doesn't play on FM101.1 anymore.

He had big shoes.

Today, I looked at the admissions requirements for attending Fuller Theological Seminary's School of Theology (just for fun, I am still wildly unsure of my future!).  My father went here and during that time wrote a book: The Effects of Colonial Mentality on the Religious Consciousness of Filipinos. Here's an excerpt from the "Ackowledgments" section:

My journey towards achieving the goal of a Ph.D. degree has been one of constant struggle characterized by recurrent episodes of illness of varying kinds and severity, instances of intense trials and tribulations, periods of despair and deep anxieties, and the daily pressures of pastoral ministry and family responsibilities. Through it all, God’s truly amazing grace was more than sufficient for all my needs. Especially during those times of severe testing where, at day’s end, giving up seemed to be the only option left, the Lord’s faithfulness was proven again and again, in that “morning by morning, new mercies” I did see. It is but fitting then that all gratitude and praise be given to him first.

I remember when he was writing this.

I remember those days when he couldn't sleep.

I remember when he couldn't walk for two weeks.

I remember when he would drive in the middle of the night to talk to his congregation member in need.

I remember when I spilled his coffee all over his floppy disk, which contained his only copy of this 320-page book, and he still gave me a goodnight kiss that night.

I remember when we prayed together each night.

My faith is my own, but I will never forget the man whose life made me believe.  My eyes burn with pride and uneasiness when I reflect on the legacy that my daddy has left me to continue.

My feet are too small for this.

To the Glory of God?

"So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." I Corinthians 10:18

This hit me hard. Why? Because I've realized the magnitude of the charge in this verse, and even more I see how miserably I've failed to reach it.  I mean, do I glorify God

when I worship?

yes.

when I pray?

check.

when I eat?

uuhh...

when I whine about how much homework I have?

definitely not.

And how can friendships be for the glory of God, and not just to feed my desire for belonging? What characterizes a romantic relationship that is glorifying to God? Is the way I approach my schoolwork glorifying Him?

i want to be on fire for you!
to be so consumed by you,
that these feelings i have just burn away.

i imagine writing each and every one of these depressing thoughts and saddening feelings
on a piece of paper
and then lighting each insignificant piece on fire
and watching them disintegrate into ashes
and fly away and leave me forever

i pray right now for protection against the advances of the enemy into my mind
for renewed vision for You
for discipline, discipline, discipline
and the ability to RESPOND to you


God, i'm so out of it.

I find it hard to talk... to string together my jumbled-up thoughts into a cohesive, coherent sentence.
I realize that the gift of empathy is something God has blessed me with,
but, to an extent, the flashbacks I saw today made me feel like I was going through it over again.

At least I can say, with great confidence, that your mommy and my daddy are standing next to each other, laughing and sharing stories about how quirky, strong, loving, and beautiful their daughters turned out to be.

Way to pierce my heart, Jesus.

"What was your aim in reading the passage?" he asked.
"My aim? To arrive at an understanding of the text, I suppose."
"Anything else?"
Jim paused. "No. What else is there?"
"Well, there is more than just finding out what it says and what it means. There are also questions, like what did it say to you? Were you struck by anything? And, most important, did you experience God in your reading?" The brother assigned Jim the same text for that entire day, urging him to read it as much with his heart as with his head.
...
The next day they met again. In despair Jim told the brother that he simply could not do what was being asked of him. It was then that the wisdom behind the jogging shoes became evident: "You're trying too hard Jim. You're trying to control God. Go back to this passage and this time be open to receive whatever God has for you. Don't manipulate God; just receive. Communion with him isn't something you institute. It's like sleep. You can't make yourself sleep, but you can create the conditions that allow sleep to happen.


- Richard J. Foster, Prayer.

He is Yahweh.

Who is he that makes me happy?
Who is he that gives me peace?
Who is he that brings me comfort
Turns the bitter into sweet?

Who is stirring up my passion?
Who is rising up in me?
Who is filling up my hunger
With everything I need?

Creator God,

He is Yahweh.

The Great I Am,

He is Yahweh.

The Lord of all,

He is Yahweh.

The Rose of Sharon,

He is Yahweh.

The Righteous Son,

He is Yahweh.

The Three in One,

He is Yahweh.

Proverbs 11

The lips of the righteous know what is fitting,
but the mouth of the wicked only what is perverse.


When pride comes, then comes disgrace,
but with humility comes wisdom.


A generous man will prosper;
he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed.

Proverbs 4:23-25

"Above all else, guard your heart,
     for it is the wellspring of life.
Put away perversity from your mouth;
     keep corrupt talk far from your lips.
Let your eyes look straight ahead,
     fix your gaze directly before you."


So true. So, so impossible to do my own. Jesus, give me wisdom.

[not] like clockwork.

i tried, really hard.


the door had a wooden placard with the words Rev. Genaro Diesto, Jr. written in gold lettering. to my surprise, the door was unlocked.
i slowly turned the handle, entered, and stood there for a long time, arms crossed in the middle of the room. what used to be his room.

and i stared around at the chair he once sat in,
the desk he once wrote on,
the windows he used to look through,
the floor he paced around on,
the bookshelves now emptied of his theological books.


and i imagined him doing all those things. no, i saw him doing those things. i remembered seeing him do those things.


i even came across something he wrote. The Pastor's Report. His comedic tone intertwined with a serious topic of conversation...that's how he always wrote. and talked.


and i tried, really hard.
i even closed my eyes.

but i couldn't hear his voice.
that voice that's full of authority and tenderness at the same time.
or his laugh.
that boisterous, make-you-laugh-too type of laugh.

and the more i tried, the more frustrated i became with myself for not being able to remember. how could i not remember what he sounded like? if i sat here and closed my eyes, would i eventually hear him?


so i tried to cry.
i tried, really hard.


i even drove to his grave by myself.
sat by it. spoke to him. waited in silence for that moment where i would break and tears would flow.

but it never came. why didn't it come? did i not miss him anymore? of course i did.
my brother cried today. so did my mother. so why couldn't i?


because feelings aren't like clockwork.

on some days, remembering that my dad died hits me so unbelievably hard.
on other days, it's a simple nostalgic smile.
on others still, the thoughts come, but the emotions do not.

but everyday, every single day, i think about him.
and that's something that'll never be too hard.

Milk and Honey

I am always scared of returning home.

Why?
Because going home always seems to be a spiritual desert for me. A place where I find no spiritual food or even a place to get fed.  I picture a long and windy road before me, and I am stuck in the Neutral gear, unable to move forward past the desert.

No, I take that back. I'm in Reverse. A steady retreat to an uncomfortable and discontent yet lazy and apathetic lifestyle.  Back to a time of seeking and not finding, listening but doubting what my ears hear, looking and seeing nothing but brown sand and heat waves. One-way conversations with God.

It has made me passive. Too afraid to change anything because of past failed attempts, I find myself simply wishing I would come back... and things would just be different.

And so it is, with every summer/winter/spring break, that this fear of going back and seeing no change returns. Friends provide but a momentarily uplifting escape. The church and my family are preoccupied with their own spiritual battles.

It is in this time God speaks with such assurance and boldness that I can rest peacefully and, to my surprise, joyfully. He tells me that these two weeks, as short as they may be, will be filled with change.  The wilderness is necessary in order to fully experience my oasis.

"You, my child, will grow."

I do not fully understand the reasons for the wildernesses of God's absence. This I do know: while the wilderness is necessary, it is never meant to be permanent. In God's time and in God's way the desert will gave way to a land flowing with milk and honey.

- Richard J. Foster, Prayer

In God's time.
In God's way.

Purify My Heart.

I praise God because He has brought me into this wilderness.

What He is trying to show me is unclear as of now,
and I feel as if I am in a constant search of something,
and yet that something is unclear as well.

But He is calling me to a time
of relentless pursuit of Him, of focused vigilance,
of a sincere time of trial and - what's more -
triumph in searching for Him.

The Holy Spirit is moving me...
A movement from recognizing what God has done for me,
what He is doing for me,
and what He promises for me...
to a time of perceiving and being aware of Who He is,
unchanged by time.

And a word that I hear as I enter into this wilderness,
into this week of fasting and seeking God
and understanding the redemption and love of a Father
is the word purity.

So Jesus, teach me what it means to be pure,
and may these lessons give me a greater insight
and a truly broken heart
for this Good Friday,
and a greater, deeper reverence
for this Glorious Sunday.

Joy Everlasting

What does it mean to have continuous joy?

A joy that is lasting;
that remains unaffected by circumstances
whether positive or negative;

Is joy a response? Or a belief?
Is joy something not out of emotion but cognition?


What is joy? And how does it become lasting?

Over the past couple weeks, people have thanked God for the continuous joy I impart each day.  For some reason, I question what they see. Why? Because I don't feel joyous all the time. In fact, of late I've rarely felt joy. Unless I do have this joy, and I just don't understand that it truly is.

I wonder they mean by this sense of continuous joy I exhibit.
I wonder if I really know what it means to have joy, to be joyous.