mrphilipman's Xanga

God's Mercies Are New Every Morning

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 18:51:10 GMT

It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him. - Lamentations 3:22-24

I love the fact that Scripture tells us God's mercies are new every morning. I mean, it's not like God goes to sleep for eight hours and then wakes up with shiny new mercies. No, we are the ones who need to sleep. We are the ones who oversleep and then get to work late, only to find out that we forgot to finish a project. We're the ones who snap at our family members when we get home and overindulge in mindless entertainment. We're the ones who settle into bed with heavy hearts, remembering all the times we've needed God's forgiveness during the day and feeling utterly depleted.

But God is never depleted. We can open our eyes the next morning with absolute joy in the knowledge that our Father is waiting to spend the day with us, pouring out His mercy and grace. We can't use up His mercies; instead, we can wake up with a renewed sense of wonder at God 's marvelous grace, knowing that He has a more than abundant supply of everything we need, and His hand is open to give it to us if we ask Him.

Our Father does not grow weary of us as we grow weary of ourselves. Instead, He gives us every day as an opportunity to experience the deep joy of His ever-present mercies, mercies that can reach us no matter how bleak our circumstances. And if we lose sight of those mercies? No need to fear; they will be just as wonderful tomorrow as they were today.

Do you ever get tired of yourself or your life? How has God renewed you lately?

http://weblog.revelife.com/revelife/670478765/gods-mercies-are-new-every-morning.html?cuttag=true#cuttaganchor

Good Will Hunting

Wed, 13 Aug 2008 22:59:19 GMT

Sometimes I wish I had never met you, because then I would not have to live knowing there is someone like you out there, and have to watch you throw it all away.

I should watch this movie.

The Outcome Isn't What You Hoped For... But It's Sweet Anyway.

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 11:49:04 GMT

It's 5:35am, and I'm about to retire for the night, but I wanted to jot down a quick thought before I fell asleep.
Since I was staying up late, a friend of mine told me to check out the Perseid meteor shower between 2am-5am. I said I'd finish my work by 4:30am so I could go up to the 4th floor of Piedmont where I'd hopefully catch a handful of shooting stars.

Unfortunately, the night sky directly above me was really cloudy so I couldn't see anything. But what I could see was the ocean and the bay in the distance, the SF city lights, and just about everything in between. Some of it was shrouded in early morning fog, but the view honestly wasn't half-bad. I actually liked it, and I didn't mind so much not being able to see the Perseid showers tonight. I wasn't shown the light from the stars that I'd hoped to see, but my attention was instead pointed to the beautiful city lights before me.

Often times, that's really how God speaks to me: I go in expecting one thing, and He surprises me with something that's pretty different from my expectations. And I like that. Because not only is it amazing that my God is speaking to ME, it trains me to open my eyes and ears in attentive new ways that allow me to see and hear things of God in ways that I might have not been able to before.

Just how big is God's voice? Big enough to be heard in all corners of the Earth. But you have to know what you're listening for in order to hear what is being spoken to you. How big are His hands? Big enough to hold the whole world, right? He's got the whole world in His hands. His fingerprints are on everything everywhere, including gifts He intended to be yours. But you have to see God's hand in all things before you can see that which God has specifically crafted for you. I don't know if I'm making sense, but it makes sense in my head and that's all that matters this late (or early). Good nigh- er, morning.

Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah

Mon, 11 Aug 2008 22:26:33 GMT

Guide me, O thou great Jehovah,
pilgrim though this barren land;
I am weak, but thou art mighty;
hold me with thy powerful hand;
Bread of heaven, Bread of heaven,
feed me till I want no more,
feed me till I want no more.

Open now the crystal fountain,
whence the healing stream doth flow;
let the fire and cloudy pillar
lead me all my journey through;
strong Deliverer, strong Deliverer.
be thou still my Strength and Shield,
be thou still my Strength and Shield.

When I tread the verge of Jordan,
bid my anxious fears subside;
bear me through the swelling current,
land me safe on Canaan's side;
songs of praises, songs of praises,
I will ever give to thee,
I will ever give to thee.

--
One of the most beautiful songs written from start to finish.
Praise God for William Williams writing such an awesome hymn.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Mon, 11 Aug 2008 20:30:12 GMT

“The essence of optimism is not its view of the present, but the fact that it is the inspiration of life and hope when others give in; it enables a man to hold his head high when everything seems to be going wrong; it gives him strength to sustain reverses and yet to claim the future for himself instead of abandoning it to his opponent.”

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Sun, 10 Aug 2008 08:35:01 GMT

"The brilliance comes in your mistakes- that's how you discover new things. And the only way to make mistakes is to stretch and take chances. If you play it safe, you'll never progress"
-Miles Davis to T.M. Stevens

Wishful Thinking Never Hurt Nobody

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 11:22:50 GMT

Remember when you were told as a kid that if you were able to hold your breath for the entire time you passed through a tunnel, you could make a wish that would almost certainly come true? So as we approached a tunnel, we'd try our best to fill our pint sized lungs with as much air as we could, without any particular wish in mind, to see if we really could make it all the way. Sometimes, I'd be able to get through a tunnel and I wouldn't make a wish, thinking that I could stock-pile each of my wishes so that once I'd saved enough, I could make a SUPER wish.

(Yeah, you can tell my parents only took me to Chuck E. Cheese's when I was a little kid.) I used to save those stupid tickets, lock them away somewhere, and guard them like my life depended on it. For all I knew, more tickets meant bigger toys for my grubby paws to grab a hold of and play with. And I'm sure that was the basis of my wish-making when I was younger... and as a result (no surprise), that's probably why I don't remember much of anything I wished for when I was a little kid.

Still, whether it was wishing for a toy or wishing for something else, at the end of the day, the act of making one played with your imagination like nothing else because you placed a little faith in some higher power to get what you wanted; you knew too somehow that it wasn't by any stroke of serendipity that your wish came true, but rather some divine being was giving it to you out of freewill and goodness. Is that a bit extreme? I don't know, but that's just how I felt as a kid.

Now usually wishes are one of those things that kind of fade with time because you get a little older (with the one exception being Isaac Song. On our way to Hyunsoo's bday dinner, he made a tunnel wish. He said he tries to cram as many wishes as he possibly can while he goes through a tunnel..... ahahha), and for whatever reason- maybe because we believe they're impractical or they just don't make sense anymore- we all know that with age, you begin to do these things less and less.

That's my problem though because this is one of the few things from my childhood that I've let continue unabated up til now... and I'm about to enter my third year in college. It doesn't seem like much of a problem to me either- making wishes is, if anything, fun.

Now, before you judge me, let me at least preface the rest of this entry with this. As I started getting older, I noticed that I began wishing not for more things, but just for things in my life to go the way I really wanted them to. More substantial things, if you will. Not for that deck of pokemon cards or for that gameboy, but things that money couldn't buy. Even then, there was plenty to wish for, perhaps more.

Seeing how important the things I wished for were to me, I wanted to ensure that the wishing process made me feel
like it was worth the trouble. So doing tunnel wishes sufficed for some time, but with practice, tunnel wishes became cheap (when we were little, it was harder to hold our breaths as long, but now that our bodies are huge, it's almost too easy now... so I feel like tunnel wishes aren't as significant anymore). Nowadays, I make wishes at 11:11. It's always exciting when, by some dumb stroke of chance,you look at the clock, and you notice that those 4 numbers are aligned. I also think that because 11:11 is the same here as it is over there (where you may be, wherever you are), the fact that you can share that moment in time with anybody anywhere (at least relatively speaking) makes it that much more meaningful. And what I mean to say is that when you make wishes in tunnels, you can only make it with the people you're in the car with- but with 11:11, you can share it with whomever wherever. See?

The best things remain unseen. Pastor Eugene loved to say that, and as we grow older, the more we appreciate the beauty behind that sentiment. We don't wish for things as much, but rather for things that are more valuable to us, things that cannot merely just be gotten. At least that's what I'd hope. What's beautiful to note, too, is that we wished for things when we were kids, but as we slowly exit our childhood and foray into adulthood, we, in our attempts to retain the parts of our childhood that we hold so dear, continue to make wishes. It's the act of making a wish that I find so endearing because it shows that it's something none of us want to lose: that childlike heart and imagination. I'm nearing 21 years old, and as we grow older, life becomes ... so real. The prospect of having to get a job to pay our own rent, to live independently, to start our own family- I mean, all that's nice, and those truly are things I wish to attain some day, but not at the expense of remembering what it feels like to be a kid sometimes. Because really, we're still not that old at all.

It's kind of silly, even borderline stupid to make wishes huh? What are wishes compared to prayers anyway? They're not as deep, and they're certainly not as passionate nor in direct communication with any higher being like God. But to me, wishes are like little bubbles of hope transformed by some profound coincidence (and truly, it is nothing more
than a coincidence, I think) into some tangible thing that somehow puts a twinkle in our eyes and makes our smiles that much wider.

Making a wish when I was in 4th grade is the same thing as wishing for something right now. The only difference is that I used to wish for anything and everything when I was younger; now, I just wish for the same thing over and over again until it comes true. I find that persisting in the latter is so much more fulfilling and satisfying than the former. It's like a feeling that something paid off (except the only work you really do is just make the same wish over and over again until it comes true). But I digress. I think sometimes I make wishes for the sake of making them, and it never hurts, in my opinion, to throw up a little wish in the air. If it comes true, it comes true. If not, then it doesn't, right?

So relent to your inner child and be young for a bit. Don't forget to make a wish tonight, or tomorrow night or whenever you happen to drive through a tunnel or blow out a birthday cake or see that the clock reads 11:11. I know what I'm wishing for: it's been the same wish for some time now, and it's something I'll continue to wish for. Who knows what might happen. Maybe it'll come true

-leeP

p.s. aahaha i'm sorry i guess my previous entry came off the wrong way, but really, I'm not upset about what happened at all anymore. thanks for your
concerns anyway.

p.p.s. one of my roommates is shaving just one of his hairy nipples. I won't say which one though ahhaha

Note:
- One final entry on Xanga coming up

Sunday, August 03, 2008

Sun, 03 Aug 2008 00:32:29 GMT

A couple things I realized after my RSF trip this past weekend:

A) Don't play basketball if I'm tired or hungry ever again.
I think I've finally realized how freaking crucial it is to have a little bit o' gas in your stomach when you wanna shoot hoops. I was running on fumes, and I was so hungry I thought my stomach was going to shrivel up and die. I also learned how irritable I can be if I get really hungry. And that makes basketball no fun, for me, for my teammates, for my opponents. One dollar in the jar. Dang it.

B) Don't ever take my wallet to the RSF again.
All you need is an ID card to get onto the courts, and a phone in case anyone wants to reach you. There's no point in taking a wallet that has your debit card in it AND your keys attached to it. Hell, it's such a huge hassle to replace everything if you lose all that. And lose all that, I did, because my wallet was sitting out in the open for the taking.

I tell myself all the time that I have absolutely no respect for thieves. Only losers and low lifes steal other people's stuff. That's what my dad told me, and it's something I had beaten out of me as a kid. Granted, everything that usually gets stolen can very well be replaced, it's the idea that someone wants to take someone else's stuff for their own gain rather than work for it. As if losing my wallet and keys wasn't aggravating enough, I checked my checking account when I got home and found that the thief put me in the red about $50 using my debit card multiple times at McDonald's, the Bart, the Pro Shop, etc.

There were a few things that irritated the crap outta me throughout this entire experience:
1) Bank of America Customer Service
They have a specific line you can call in the event that your ATM card gets stolen. I was in the red by about $25 at the time I called the line, and an automated teller told me an account manager would be with me as soon as possible.

If by, as-soon-as-possible, they meant we-only-got-like-one-person-working-right-now-so-you're-gonna-have-to-wait-about-2-hours, then I guess they tried their best. But during that time, the dude spent about twenty five more bucks. I finally blocked my card, but they said I'd have to call back in a few days to reverse the negative charges. Waste of a couple hours (and counting) of my life.

2) McDonald's
Okay, so you steal someone's wallet, and you realize that he has a freaking card in his wallet. And oh man, you're feeling pretty good about yourself because you just cashed in on some free money, and you know what that means: time to live the high life and go out for some good food (at the expense of the fool you just jacked).

This guy's high life was eating at McDonald's.

Who the HECK buys a meal at McDonald's with an untapped debit card????
I mean, if he went to Chez Panisse or some other ritzy restaurant and treated himself out to a good meal there, I'd probably be HAPPY for the guy, give him a pat on the back, a thumbs up, and tell him "Thattaa boy!"

But McDONALD'S??????? Are you serious????? And I guess he was really feeling good about it because he didn't just go once. Nah, he went back later that night to buy another value meal.

3) Check the freaking name on the debit card, shekkis
Philip Kim.
A black man with a debit card whose owner's last name is the most obvious Korean last name in the history of Earth.

There's always the chance that you can get a completely black looking person who has some Korean in him, but what are the chances? Pretty damn small. I have two older half-Korean/half-black cousins who look, for the most part, black (in skin color and just how they look in general), but you can totally see their Korean side too: in their eyes and in the way they speak, among other things. My uncle was the darkest African-American man I'd ever seen, but that blackness most definitely got diluted when he passed down his amazing genes to his children. So the point is: chances are slim to none that you'll get a guy who looks full black but is partially Korean.

So what's the other possibility?

Alright, alright, I know. I know my screen name is ggaman peelip, I know I have dark skin, and long story short, I know I get tons of crap about being the blackest korean alive. But I know FOR SURE that I don't ACTUALLY look like a ggaman man. I might have dark skin, but I know what I don't have: those huiken lips. That's why people believe me when I say I'm Hawaiian or Samoan or Filipino or Mexican, but they tend not to believe me when I say I'm half black. So he doesn't look like me nor do I him.

I had a debit card that had my freaking picture on it, courtesy of Bank of America's fantastic and effective total protection system. That guy who jacked my wallet (I know who it is now for sure) looked straight up from the ghetto: dreads, XXXXXXXXXXL white shirt, dark jeans, and spotless white, unbent shoes. You know you got a bonafide huiken if you can't see even the slightest smudge on his shoes. How could they mistake me for this guy. Sigh.

Anyway, but all kidding and venting aside now. I started this entry not only so I could record yesterday's events and sort out my thoughts a bit, but also because I wanted to share with you something that occurred to me while I mulled over what happened.

Now, you see, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pissed yesterday about what happened. I was definitely pissed- pissed that I lost two sets of keys, that I'd have to replace them with my own money, that the guy had the gall to use my debit card then put me in the red, that I needed one stamp to fill my Smart Alec's card to get a free burger but I couldn't anymore, that I had to call card companies in order to replace everything, and that I wasted so much time.

People came over to 106 after some tennis, and I didn't want them feeling concerned or whatnot, so I just went into my room to think about "dude, I'm gonna smear that fool if I ever see him again" and all that fun jazz. I mean, it's easily justified. We can afford to have self-control in all situations except ones like these... because I don't know who the guy personally, but I do know who stole it, and the fact that he stole it from me means that I can be angry right? How can we be called to love people who anger us so? C'mon man, it doesn't make sense...

But come to think of it, what did I really lose? Not much. It's not the end of the world if you lose $50, and the fact that everything else I lost can be replaced mitigates any real sense of loss. So at the end of the day, I had to question myself and ask, then, where the self control was in my thoughts and how God factored into my rationale. Most importantly, where was the love? (To put this question into context, the idea of love is something I'd been trying to think about, learn and practice all summer. I'll share those thoughts in a later entry). I assure you there was none to be found during my self-righteous anger. (And I'm starting to understand that righteous anger is not found in being angry at those who you think have wronged you, but rather only when people, in spite of you, try to wrong or speak ill of God)

Anyway, yeah, what he did was pathetic, but I can't use that as a basis to judge his character. Who am I to judge, when I'm a sinner with so many faults of my own? It's not like I haven't stolen before either because I know I have (like I said, it was something my dad beat out of me).

Right before I went to bed last night, I listened to a brief Randy Pausche interview, and when questioned "Isn't there any anger, any bitterness?" (in reference to his pancreatic cancer), he said this:

"I read all the books, and I'm supposed to be mad, right? But I have never found anger to make any situation better."

How uplifting is that? If anyone has a legitimate right to be angry, it's him, but he's not. Who am I to gripe about a stolen wallet? It's pathetic, if anything ahahha because if you think about it even for a little bit, whose fault was it but mine for putting him in that position to stumble. It's definitely something I should've been smarter about.

On another level, and above else, what I realized is this.

Jesus has a heart for these people- not just for people who attend church regularly or do charity works for world peace, or for missionaries who help starving kids in a third world country, and whatnot. We're not talking about just the "good Christians" because truly, we are all sinners, and that means there aren't "good" or "bad" Christians in the sense that there aren't any "good" or "bad" sinners either. You're a sinner or you're not, and if you're not, your name is probably (and by probably, I mean for sure) Jesus, and you're gloriously chilling next to God in heaven. Jesus is not there to massage the shoulders of those "good" sinners so they can feel good about themselves.

The gospel message and Jesus's all encompassing love is there for EVERYONE to hear and accept. He's there for liars, for thieves, for people who love to party, for homosexuals, for people who swear. He had a heart for all sinners. If he didn't, then what do we make of people like Mary Magdalene, who made a living based on the lusts of other men, or Zaccheus the tax collector who cheated people of their money? Or on a more personal level, what then do we make of us? Of our friends? We'd be left with nothing. Are they like us to be damned to hell then? No, because Jesus loves all of us and gives everyone the opportunity to redeem themselves through repentance and faith.

And I want to do the same: for those who have wronged me, what else can I do? Get upset then beat them up? No. I'd still feel dissatisfied, and maybe even angrier. I just want to have a heart of love for people like him, because there really is nothing else I can do really. Chances are, I probably won't ever see him again. So pray for him, and love because love covers all wrongs. Love not out of a love that I can give freely of my own self, but because God first loved me and gave me the ability to do as He did. It's a different kind of love, but it's just another facet of love. Love is huge dude.

In no way am I trying to make a bigger deal about what happened through this entry, but I think it's of personal importance to relate this particular lesson of self-restraint and love to this specific incidence, if only because it hits one of my particular soft spots. May I learn also to have patience not just in hindsight but also to have patience in the now (that is, whenever something happens, that I can be patient throughout the incident rather than preaching patience in an entry after what's happened is over).

So on that note, let's forgive and forget, and enjoy this last month of summer! July kinda blurred into August, and now that it's here I have less than two weeks to study for my final. Oh man. Then after a short break in SoCal, it's back to studying in the fall semester. LIVE IT UP EVERYONE. PEACE.

-leeP

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 05:59:00 GMT

Dear Nude,

We've had our fair share of ups and downs, but for the most part, we've
been going steady for a while now. You know how much I love you. I
can't bear the thought of living without you. Life without late night sushi
rolls? Oh gosh, I don't even want to imagine it.

Mmm your crazy monkey rolls and all the lambadas. Nothing was more
decadent or filling than the things you made for me. Oh- and the teriyaki
bowl you made: it was cheap, but it NEVER failed to hit the spot.
Freaking delicious. Plus, you delivered all your goods to me for free!
Nothing could go wrong :) Speaking of free... remember that one night
you gave me $50 worth of free sushi and rolls after some kids and I went
noraebanging? As awesome as that night was, you were the cherry on the
whipped cream. YOU made it memorable. You were always there for me-
even at 4am- and just a phone call away.

Except tonight. I gave you a call at 8pm, and I was expecting
SOMETHING back last night- a phone call, some goods, anything. 9pm...
nothing. 10pm... nothing. 11pm... you said you were on your way, but even
then, you didn't show. 3 hours and for nothing! I don't even think I can
express how dire my situation was. I think I contracted I'MSTARVINGITUS
and I needed you to bail me out. Especially because people needed me to
help move a heavy couch from Oakland back to Piedmont, but without you,
how could I find the strength to do it? Somehow I managed, and we carried
that freaking large couch down the stairs, figured out how to squeeze it
through the doorways, and finally got it back to Piedmont and into 101.
Man, it was hard.

You can't just be there for me in the good times- you gotta be there for
me ALL the time. I think it's time for us to take a break. Joann Kong
(bless her), re-acquainted me with an old late night friend to help me
get through the night. She even hooked me up with some free food: a
BBQ sirloin burger, some curly fries, a large diet coke, two tacos, and
a spicy chicken sandwich. It wasn't gluttony either- I was just that hungry
(imagine that)... and boy, it was the definition of goodness. He treated me
so well, so I think I'm going to chill with him now when I need some late
night help. There's very little grace from me when it comes to food.

See ya later Nude (for now)

Best,
Phil

P.S. I can't believe I just wasted half an hour of my life writing that. Freaking Nude Sushi ahahahahh

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Sun, 27 Jul 2008 01:55:15 GMT

I can't believe I turned down John Mayer tickets with Chubs.
Or even dinner with the Ben Boys. Derrick's freaking parents cooked, and he invited me. I still said no. What the hell -_-

Hm, so the latest thing on my mind's been this. In being considerate of those around you, we're asked to restrain ourselves if only because it's just polite to do so. It's bothers me how shallow that can get sometimes, but I guess that's the way it is.

At least with friends, the story's a little different. Being around the same people enough helps to espouse a mutual level of comfort, at which point you can free yourself from repetitive small talk and those other social inhibitions. While that doesn't necessarily mean you should do whatever the heck you want -- because it is direly important to take into account how another person might react (or even stumble) by the things you do -- you retain the incredible power to choose what you want to share and what you don't with those you hold dear.

What you say is indeed so powerful.

What happens though when, in following those guidelines, we apply that same train of thought to how we feel. We tell ourselves to quell our emotions (the same ones, no less) time and time again. I'm starting to think that it's a necessary evil. It's so unhealthy though. You can't bring them up to your friends over and over again; your emotions are so personal to you that it's difficult for others to understand. When you do try to share, I mean, you know that they're trying their best to empathize (and that's a blessing) if they say "I understand," but you're aware deep in your heart of hearts they don't. Your persistent attempts to phrase it in one way or another prove fruitless because you just can't seem to get the message across (either that or they get tired of hearing what they think is the same thing repeatedly). It makes you feel just a little lonely. Enter David Crowder.

DCB- All I Can Say
Lord I'm tired
So tired from walking
And Lord I'm so alone
And Lord the dark
Is creeping in
Creeping up
To swallow me
I think I'll stop
Rest here a while

And didn't You see me cry'n?
And didn't You hear me call Your name?
Wasn't it You I gave my heart to?
I wish You'd remember
Where you sat it down

And this is all that I can say right now
And this is all that I can give

I didn't notice You were standing here
I didn't know that
That was You holding me
I didn't notice You were cry'n too
I didn't know that
That was You washing my feet

He is a God who understands the depth of our problems. He understands US far more than anyone else can hope to. He created me and loves me, and He knows every little thing about me and where my struggles are.

David Crowder's so amazing. My favorite song to play, to sing, to listen to. The second favorite song isn't even close. Everything I could ever express to God is captured in this one song. All the glory, all the praise, all the thankfulness, the passion, the love, the companionship of a God and Father above who understands... everything.

I'm a sinner. I'm so pathetic. And WEAK. I'm always in need strength given by my Father alone. I can't do it by myself. To have him take those burdens off my puny shoulders and to be liberated in Christ... ahhh It's far, far sweeter than anything of this world. And to have but a taste is not enough. I want more.

As children of God, we want to be praising and worshiping all the time, even in the midst of our struggles; but as human beings, it's so difficult to be satisfied and happy when anguish tears us in two. Still, we can find joy in whatever circumstances given us by God because we know of His great love for us, and the gift of His son He gave us in absolute grace. Charles Spurgeon says this in regards to times of great struggle:

Despair whispers, "Lie down and die; give it all up." But God would have us put on a cheerful courage, and even in our worst times, rejoice in His love and faithfulness. Cowardice says, "Retreat; go back to the worldling's way of action; you cannot play the Christian's part, it is too difficult. Relinquish your principles." But, however much Satan may urge this course upon you, you cannot follow it if you are a child of God. His divine fiat has bid thee go from strength to strength, and so thou shalt, and neither death nor hell shall turn thee from thy course. What, if for a while thou art called to stand still, yet this is but to renew thy strength for some greater advance in due time. Precipitancy cries, "do something. Stir yourself; to stand still and wait, is sheer idleness." We must be doing something at once—we must do it so we think—instead of looking to the Lord, who will not only do something but will do everything. Presumption boasts, "If the sea be before you, march into it and expect a miracle." But Faith listens neither to Presumption, nor to Despair, nor to Cowardice, nor to Precipitancy, but it hears God say, "Stand still," and immovable as a rock it stands. "Stand still";—keep the posture of an upright man, ready for action, expecting further orders, cheerfully and patiently awaiting the directing voice; and it will not be long ere God shall say to you, as distinctly as Moses said it to the people of Israel, "Go forward."

This summer, the road I've been walking on has been strewn with jagged rocks, and my sandals have been reduced to mere shreds of leather. My feet are torn and bleeding, but I can see the grassy knolls ahead; the promise of sunshine and Jesus who is standing there with arms outstretched.

If timing is everything, when will I be ready? When will He deliver me from these particular struggles?
My heart and mind tell me not to suppress these feelings within me, but I know it's the right thing to do, at least for now. And in situations like these, the right thing is always so much harder to do.

Pray for more patience. And love.

On an end note, I'll just leave myself with this:
Sometimes, some things are better left unsaid.
and sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

Reminders:
- Finish the last xanga public entry
- Make a Word Press account