tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24651964629938931472024-02-21T00:55:47.417-08:00The Inadvertent NunLove God. Love others. Love food.OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-33620288153275247062009-06-04T18:12:00.000-07:002009-06-04T18:16:21.145-07:00Things I like today<ul><li>Graduations: It feels as happy of an occasion as a wedding. There is so much hope and promise for the future in the air. </li><li>The blistering crispy-on-the-outside chewy-on-the-inside crust of a pizza Margarita at Pizzeria Delfina</li><li>Feeling at peace in the face of uncertainty</li><li>My new boots ;)</li><li>Crossing things off my Things To Do list.</li></ul>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-35324329785484187842009-05-29T16:48:00.000-07:002009-05-29T18:35:57.663-07:00Daily Bread<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">PS (pre-script): I realize that a few of you get this as an email. It's supposed to be my blog, one that you can look at if you want, not something to clog up your inbox. I don't know how this works, but somehow that's how it's set up (let me know Jake if you figured it out). So, if you would like to stop receiving this as an email just let me know and I'll do my best to try to figure out how to get you off the list that I can't find.lso, if you have an comments, please leave them on the blog because so far I look pretty lame with 0 comments to my site, but I know some of you have actually responded to me personally. I don't want to hurt my cyber street cred if I have any. Thanks! IN<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilI68tIDUAPpmFYm_gh3kjfuyHgq9BEZCImLVWLoC1S2a_HfvFyznw5U-JRuel5BjeTeK1sq9lSViU5M49yRVxPMSNNSWFWWzwTuuWVeTQDn14BOti4oOmgHAp5sH6g5VV9N5DtXrPqwQ/s320/IMG_4238.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341401711909086786" /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">And on with the show.....</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A couple weekends ago I went to Napa Valley for the weekend with some friends. These wonderful women (we'll call them C and K for now) saw it fit for us to escape reality for a couple days. C and K whisked me from the concrete streets of San Francisco to the serene, farm land of Napa Valley. </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">For being a beginning foodie, I am not much of a drinker. Blame it on my allergies, blame it on the "Asian Red" that happens when I take 3 sips of wine and then turn so red it looks as if my head will explode into Pulp Fiction type pieces, or blame it on uninformed taste buds. Whatever the case, I drink about once every 3-4 months and it's usually just a glass of red wine or a Guinness on tap. For special occasions I might let my hair down and have two glasses, but I'm usually holding onto something for balance at that point. </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So what is there in Napa if not acres and acres of vineyards? Napa to me is a little like Vegas. Even if you don't gamble, there's always something else to indulge in. For me, it was all about the food, spas and a little outlet shopping. We had swedish massages in Napa, dipped into some thick and <a href="http://www.goldenhaven.com/">hot volcanic mud in Calistoga</a>, shopped, and best of all ate great food!</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The mud baths reminded me of the episode from Rob and Big. Ya, kinda like that.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 116px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWY9z56feZXC4QLzGW1rWyQZtzrD24L6CEBmyd325-x_JmZx6NkcG-oegP5kB9vyPRPlIeJrG19nI3Piryaz4-WIhbbw6kvuUopAggqiW3twTK1DAbWNuTqyVNYmIye94U70F8g2-G0g/s200/03.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341415107028089330" /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The first night we had a great dinner at <a href="http://www.celadonnapa.com/">Celedon</a>. I had pork belly and watermelon. Yes that's right pork belly and watermelon. Either one of the two would have gotten me, but the combo was amazing. The salty, fatty pork coupled with the cool refreshing bites of the watermelon, sprinkled with feta...mmmm. I went to sleep relaxed, almost buzzed, and full. That was a good night.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">C and K were kind enough to humor me as we want to <a href="http://www.adhocrestaurant.com/">A</a><a href="http://www.adhocrestaurant.com/">d Hoc</a> the next night and <a href="http://www.bouchonbakery.com/">Bouchon Bakery</a> for breakfast the next morning. I tried to explain how both were owned by <a href="http://www.tkrg.org/">Thomas Keller</a> who is one of the top chef's in the Bay if not the country. We couldn't afford a meal at French Laundry ($250 per person), but we could try a prix fix meal at Ad Hoc and some pastries to go. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Ad Hoc was great. Simple, unpretentious and all about the food. Their tag line is "temporary relief from hunger". We had 4 courses ranging from "duck ham" (duck that was cured to the point where it really tastes like ham), tri-tip steak and chard, a cheese course and finally buttermilk panna cotta. C loved the panna cotta so much I turned to say something to her and she had already inhaled the whole thing! The next day we went to Bouchon bakery where I had them fill a pastry box for me full of eclairs, macarones, bouchons, and other chocolaty delights. They melted on the way home, but I ate them all happily later anyway.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The thing that struck me about this trip was how funny my friends looked at me when I talked about Ad Hoc being on the Chronicles top 100 Bay area restaurants. I talked more about Thomas Keller and the other chefs that I love here. They gave me the kind of look you give to your child (and a couple of my adult cousins) when they are explaining the nuances of Harry Potter; "that's sweet you're excited but I don't really care".</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Why do I care so much about food all of a sudden? I used to eat just to sustain myself. Food was more about the social event for me than the actually eating. But now I love the whole culture around food. It has become almost spiritual.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It's a natural fit really. In Jewish tradition meals are part of the religious holidays. As people gather to celebrate they take time to share stories and remember God's provision for their people. In Christian tradition, taking communion or partaking of the Eucharist (depending on your tradition) has become a ceremony of remembrance of the Last Supper. Jesus was often found eating and drinking with people. Sometimes he ate just with his disciples, sometimes with the crowds that followed him from town to town, and sometimes with people thought to be at the bottom of society's standards (gasp!). He ate with hookers and hustlers. I thump my chest with a fist and nod with respect at this. Jesus ate like a homey. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If you know a Filipino family, this painting may be above their dining room table.</span></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 106px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNJA8AhXf9ubgvrEGUNIPBkmdulK4Tfnoe1PTcxPnf0YljuCyNfTn0rAc988__ooGqgzHM43TROJQU_KLXZdTil1wkCqyMnTTuZq12XtAnFBWM9RXVGEaQiPt542LBrwEgknzC1KTvWUg/s200/last_supper_davinci.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341417786787492850" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">For Filipinos, eating is a part of sharing with one another. Gatherings are centered on the food we share with each other. Auntie Cecile's fresh lumpia and Uncle Dan's BBQ are essential parts of family gatherings. Food is cultural. Food is spiritual. Food is a reminder that God continues to sustain us and provide for us. Sharing food is sharing God's grace to us.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I know there are some that struggle with the idea that if there is a God why are there hungry people? Well folks, that's on us. There is plenty of food to go around, it's just that some of us use, hoard, and waste more than others. Remember when your mom told you about the starving children in Africa (for the me the Philippines) when you wouldn't finish your dinner? She was right. Whatever we've been given was meant for us to share with others. Sometimes we think of sharing as us "losing". But there is truly a greater "gain" in "losing" for someone else.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">God gives to us so that we can enjoy the things we've been given. God blesses some of us with mini vacations to Napa and 4 star restaurants, trips to Trader Joes or Safeway, bread (or rice for that matter) on the table and most importantly people to share with. At your next meal, take a moment, give thanks for eating one more meal and consider who we can share with next. Bon appetite!</span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div></div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-31610377298065077672009-05-05T11:13:00.001-07:002009-05-05T11:53:17.873-07:00Goal OrientedI am something of a goal oriented person. Many of my friends have great goals; run a half marathon, run a full marathon, run a triathlon, etc. My goals are a little less exhausting and usually involve adding rather than subtracting calories. A friend of mine mentioned the 7x7 list of 100 things to eat and drink before you die. <div><br /></div><div>For those of you who don't know, San Francisco is a small city, only 7 miles by 7 miles in size. But this small geographic area is packed full of amazing non-franchised restaurants all waiting for me to try them. Here's the link to the list:</div><div><br /></div><div>www.7x7.com/content/eat-drink/big-eat-sf-100-things-try-you-die<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>As soon as I got the list I went straight to La Taqueria in the Mission to try a tacos carnitas. I've been wanting to go there for a couple years and this list gave me the perfect excuse. I'm waiting for a new debit card to arrive (thought I lost my wallet) and was confined to whatever I could get for $7.44. At first I ordered two tacos, but had to take back the carne asada taco when I realized I was 40 cents short. I counted my coins like a little kid in a candy store and managed to have just enough for a small horchata. Nice!</div><div><br /></div><div>I must say it was a dang good taco. The pork was perfectly cooked. It wasn't too salty or overcooked like many carnitas I've tried. The pork was so flavorful it held it's own against the corn tortilla and the fresh chopped tomatoes and pinto beans. It made me long for the Filipino style pork; lechon. Oh lechon how I love thee. But I digress. The horchata was also very tasty. I didn't detect any grit from the spices and wasn't sure if that made it more or less authentic, but I enjoyed it just the same. I made the mistake of grabbing the bottle of green sauce on the table and squirting it on my already tasty taco. For the next couple bites I tasted nothing but heat. After the 4th bite I was back to the wonderful and clean flavors of the pork, beans and tomatoes. Ahhh.</div><div><br /></div><div>Nine items on the list down, only 91 more to go! Game on!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Things I like today:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">-Cinco de Mayo (don't all of us brown folks celebrate today?)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">-lechon</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">-green mangoes (see Burnt Lumpia's blog)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">-friends who scheme on your behalf</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">-Saturday morning breakfast at Mama's with Lisa</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">-sugar free dark chocolate jello pudding with whip cream</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">-crushes on guys I've never met (i.e Ming Tsai, Linecook, and Taye Diggs)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">-the promise of tomorrow</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">-Sundays in San Francisco</span></span></div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-70048748962329842942009-05-01T07:06:00.000-07:002009-05-01T07:19:40.299-07:00You can help kids too!<img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSau8y1kquTCCTtlGjq0y_6KQ_roP3p-BZaeINzmO3n-VNGVM-yTsAsIxVQViA-r8lBOi9DkO3GCyvK5Mij8Z2Y6a1Oe_yN5YLH5A3XeQ_Ylb98rbMbqVmGFbrVmh-5belAiDa6aCeG1o/s200/IMG_2538.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330858284916950626" /><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dear friends,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At 6am this morning I sat in my car waiting for *Jason (name has been changed).</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">With a hooded sweatshirt over his head and a backpack on his shoulder he looked like most teenagers on his way to sch<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ool.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This morning was a little different though.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Before he goes to school we are going downtown to sell Krispy Kremes to raise money for him to go to camp.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On the way to pick u<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">p the doughnuts we talk about school, his neighborhood and his family.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Jason lives with his mother and his brother.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">His dad is a drug addict and they don’t see him often.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Jason is quick to say that he’s a good dad mainl<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">y, except when he’s under the influence. There is no bitterness or hate in his voice, just an understanding that life can get messy.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He knows messy.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He tells me about the stabbings and homicides that have happened over the past year at the end of his block.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He goes on to say how it’s not as bad as some places near where his mom works.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He and his brother can’t visit their mom at work because one block down there is a gang that messes with them every time they come by.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">His mom works as a waitress as she raises the two boys alone.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I ask Jason how he ended up being such a good kid and he gives credit to his mom, “Let’s just say she’s the boss.”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">By the time we get to the store he tells me how he is going to take the SAT this Saturday.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It’s a preliminary test so he can see if he needs to buy the book for the real deal.</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He’s a smart kid who tells me he wants to become a firefighter.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It’s good pay, affords you time to have a personal life and you get to help people at the same time.</span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpPSyd5FPZ7FP2fQOD_G0lMmutv5_1xjTWcAy_79VccPzckDqtHWo4LOR04VKY79fGNQQUNVbyg9nGCxrgyj_p7eC8Bym-n3qkW6rqyI7sfPZC08lHxUmwdfdYL0JibzsLqXYooT0Gvu4/s200/IMG_2819.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330857748679965586" /> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Jason is such a sweet kid I can’t help but look at him in awe.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Despite his neighborhood, his mom has done everything she can to give him a better life.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">There is so much hope and promise in his eyes I want to cheer him on in the movie of his life.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Today he’ll raise $100 toward camp, but he has $400 left to go.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Would you please consider sponsoring Jason and a few other kids like him to go to camp this summer? </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Young Life camp is a week where they can enjoy being in a safe environment, let themselves just be kids again, and most importantly hear about a God that loves them so much he’s willing to trade His life for theirs.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It’s a message that can transform the lives of kids like Jason. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It takes $550 to send a kid to 7 days of Young Life camp.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Would you please pray and consider sponsoring a kid for one of those days?</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They are working hard to raise their own money toward camp, but would greatly appreciate any donations from friends like you.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Please send your tax deductible gifts payable to “Young Life” to 505 A St. # 7 Daly City, CA 94014.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Thank you for your support!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">OneLove, Joyce del Rosario</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-72407143269288622422009-04-29T16:24:00.001-07:002009-04-29T16:27:32.870-07:00Cool Job OppI really love good food and occasionally like good wine (I'm allergic so I don't drink often). For now Chilean wines seem to be my favorite. Okay okay, I've only tried an expensive bottle of Chilean Cab and a really cheap one ($3 at Trader Joe's) and I liked them both. Of course the expensive one was better. But if I were more of a wine connoisseur I would apply for this job<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">www.areallygoodejob.com<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">$10,000 a month and a free place to live for 6 months? Too bad I'm allergic alcohol...</div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-85479511777079752372009-04-28T18:55:00.000-07:002009-04-28T20:01:49.552-07:00Smack down<div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><img src="webkit-fake-url://D9B13B56-906F-4FB2-9448-FF4E250A309F/whiny+child.jpg" alt="whiny+child.jpg" /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You know how when you're shopping at a store, minding your own business, maybe wondering which shampoo will really give you more volume, you come across a sound so startling you almost drop that shampoo bottle? It's the "I Wanna" kid. The "I Wanna" kid has somehow fixated on something in the store and has decided that their life is not worth living without it. Maybe they missed their nap or they're hungry, but for whatever reason </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">is on a mission and is determined to make it happen.</span></span></span></p></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">If </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna's</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> mom has gone through this too many times to care, she will let </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> go on crying, maybe with a couple stern whispers in </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wa</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">nna's</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> ear, "We're not doing this here. Wait till we get home." Or she may drag </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">across the store's floor as </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">is gripping her ankles in a full body plea, sweeping any dust bunnies in the way, in her own determination not to let her shopping mission be disrupted by </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna's</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> mission.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My favorite is when </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna's</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> mom ain't havin it. She stops </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> dead in their tracks, squares herself up to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna, </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">gets in </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna's</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> face and in a very certain and definitive manner says, "Stop right now. Stop whining, stop crying, and straighten yourself up because your life is not about to end if things don't go your way." </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">stops crying and breathes short and quick inward breaths as the remaining tears roll off or dry up on their face. The crisis has been taken care of.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It's at this point that I take my purchases and move on to the next aisle because what I really want to do is a slow clap in admiration of </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna's</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> mom who handled the situation so swiftly and confidently.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This is the manner that God handled me last Saturday morning. I was at Lake Merced ready for our Fun Run to raise money for kids to attend camp this summer. My hope and dream was that kids were able to raise hundreds of dollars from neighbors and friends and family. I also hoped that we had other adults in the community who were so excited to help they also raised hundreds of dollars to help kids. We were to start at 9am.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">By 9:15 only one of my volunteers had shown up. No kids, no adults, no money raised. I proceeded to whine and complain. I was angry and frustrated that no one had shown up. I didn't know how else we were going to raise the 15K it takes to send 30 kids to camp. I'm not gonna lie, I dropped a very well placed F-bomb in there somewhere and a couple other choice words in the midst of frustration. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It was about this time God had had enough and got ready to lay the smack down on me. The thing about God is that God can come in many different ways. Today God sent KK. KK was parked right next to my car. She had just finished running the lake with her sister. I was still dark and seething, but forced a smile to greet her. Her energy and optimism melted my frustration as she offered to help with a spaghetti feed and a bake sale. She started to list off all the other kind of fund raisers we could do. With each fund raiser idea she listed off, I felt like </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I Wanna </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">sniffing and slowly letting my anger go. By the time she left, having promised to help, I hung my head low in shame. Why was I whining? Why was I so frustrated? God is more invested in the kids than I am, of course God will make a way. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I had experienced the equivalent of the supermarket smack down. And you know what? There wasn't any real reason for me to whine and complain. My life was not going to end over that matter. Although it wasn't an out and out spanking, God gently but firmly reminded me that when I think my world is in shambles, it might just be that I need to stop complaining and trust that God knows best.</span></span></div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz2h-q52-fDHAwAk6NiUyijNFPCVHl3NWR_ZKic0EpjSgAFSMAHNcvv58LoTfSj4uNExhg5Pd-OCJEuVDox0zQ50-v6yWjyPN7O5JHrZhP-dQKoPK9-pVqEJSw4vyVvHtzlzZAXHyQKJE/s320/IMG_4207.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329940384449066866" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Thing I like today:</span></div><div><ul><li>Trader Joe's gnocchi and gorgonzola</li><li>Sparkling Pomegranate juice</li><li>tart frozen yogurt with fresh strawberries and dark chocolate chips</li><li>same as above, but blended into a smoothie</li><li>the 3 year old at TJ's pushing a little shopping cart, heading to the back of the store saying over and over to his dad, "I need a sample. I need a sample. I need a sample"</li><li>Drumstick ice cream</li><li>the "Lose It" app on my IPhone.</li><li>The fact that I saw men have to wait in line for the bathroom at Dolores Park</li></ul><div><br /></div></div><div> <img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTeOYwufxz2kKlLtW1xa4QbyQxCI4BobAwaBRI7voUQzvWGTm-MvO1v9oaLU2Ni-4wfJqc2nxjdYeCt38OnjlOxS3WIV3a6JK9j3hrPBqZvrFh3Aa6RyBaafdeRhWjsEP5arqf2kZa0dg/s200/IMG_4202.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329939191977127314" /></div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-86170657198210132842009-04-25T12:46:00.000-07:002009-04-25T17:13:40.265-07:00Things I like today<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmGYWss5w33Vv83mDvbqFLUUzv6joxRVKthZ-blV-eUYU9ZASYBq0-yZJ524mhINQeMtw8C22u-vuGjfRXtgdJWXvJ6x3qcGERAFhXXG5-n3NUoZ2vcR9bCLXcELI0VK9UYsW4D7D3tmw/s1600-h/IMG_0128.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmGYWss5w33Vv83mDvbqFLUUzv6joxRVKthZ-blV-eUYU9ZASYBq0-yZJ524mhINQeMtw8C22u-vuGjfRXtgdJWXvJ6x3qcGERAFhXXG5-n3NUoZ2vcR9bCLXcELI0VK9UYsW4D7D3tmw/s320/IMG_0128.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328718158433061682" /></a><div><br /></div><div>-Spam w scrambled eggs and rice on a camping trip</div><div>-Vienna Sausage fried up with rice and some ketchup</div><div>-Mitchell's Ube ice cream</div><div>-Ube ice cream in a toasted pan de sal</div><div>-vegetarian lasagna with lots of ricotta cheese</div><div>-duck confit</div><div>-ripe strawberries</div><div>-Blue Bottle latte</div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-75003265017063301272009-04-25T12:31:00.000-07:002009-04-25T17:16:08.549-07:00Time to commit to this blog thingHow did I become an Inadvertent Nun? Well, I'm single and I don't hook up with anyone just to hook up and as a result I've been single for much longer than I'd like to share with the bloggersphere. And I spend my days talking to God, thinking about how things to relate to God, and wearing a habit. And by "habit" I mean Joe Jeans and a JCrew top with Chaco flips. I didn't set out to become a Protestant Nun (thus the inadvertent part), but for now that's just how it is. And for those of you who aren't sure.... there are no such things as Protestant Nuns (that I know of), but my life seems to fit the self-description.<div><br /></div><div>As the recession goes it looks like I will be out of job in a couple months. I run a faith-based non-profit that mobilizes adult volunteers to bring healthy role models to teens. We are mainly dependent on private donors and as the state of the economy goes, people are holding their discretionary money close and giving has been down. Down enough that I will have to find another means to make a living. I'm hoping I can still help kids in the next gig.</div><div><br /></div><div>So it looks like I will soon have more time to chillax and therefore blog. Just a warning.</div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-8942144227131108172009-04-25T12:30:00.001-07:002009-04-25T13:18:23.237-07:00I guess it worksTesting the mobile blog thingy...OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-67703758433299085652009-04-09T20:40:00.000-07:002009-04-09T20:54:30.015-07:00blockedI've been sitting in front of my computer for days now. I need to prepare 3 sermons for my friends retreat in San Diego. The theme: Loving God.<div><br /></div><div>My tan from Molokai is long gone (although being brown skinned it's hard to tell) and my memories are only prolonged by pictures I have on my desktop and around my room. How could I have such an incredible experience with God and now sit blankly, faced with the idea of sharing how to develop a deeper relationship with God? I'm a little worried that I have nothing to say. What have I shown for my relationship with God in the past 8 months that I've been back on the mainland?</div><div><br /></div><div>What I can say is that I've had a much stronger trust that He loves me and wants to bless me more than ever before. There are things I have been waiting on that would have caused me much stress before. Now, I just sit and wait knowing that God met me on Molokai and that God will meet me today in Daly City. </div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-26462601221777251522009-01-06T12:25:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:18:51.354-08:00The edge of the unknownI thought I was only going to blog on my sabbatical, but it seems that I have felt the urge to write more and more over the past couple months. So I'm back jack!<div><br /></div><div>Part of my reason for writing today is that I was overwhelmed with an all too familiar feeling lately. I am a person who needs to know what the plan is. I need to have a plan for my day, my week, my year. I need to know what to expect so I can be emotionally prepared, mentally ready, and physically up for the task. A lot of my stress is due to things that come up unplanned. I am not a spontaneous person obviously. In fact spontaneous people with no plans who like to live by the seat of their pants bug me. It's not that it's wrong, it's just so opposite of who I am I can't comprehend living that way. </div><div><br /></div><div>Although the freewheeling folks bug me (I apologize if it's you and I'm being offensive but I'm about to redeem the statement), I realize that I have a lot to learn from them as well. Life is not something that can stay within the boundaries of a plan. As the bumper sticker goes S*** happens. It's a harsh way to speak of a harsh reality. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm sitting in my room/office today thinking about how I don't know what the plan is for my life at this very moment. The next few months are a guess to me. The economy has crashed before it was even official and non-profits and ministries around me are closing up shop or laying off people. Many of my friends are going to work wondering if they will be handed the pink slip that day. This is not a time for certainty for much of our nation.</div><div><br /></div><div>I find myself trying to live with an open hand. By open hand I mean living without holding on to what I think, what I want, what I fear. If my hand is open then God can take my hand and lead me. If it's closed, there's not much room for me to receive anything from God. Worrying is easy, living with an open hand... that's tough.</div><div><br /></div><div>It brings me to Oswald Chambers. April 29 is my favorite date in "My Utmost for His Highest" because it speaks to the uptight planner in me. Chambers writes, "Certainty is the mark of the commonsense life -- gracious uncertainty is the mark of the spiritual life. To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, no knowing what tomorrow may bring...A soon as we abandon ourselves to God and do the task He has placed closest to us, He begins to fill our lives with surprises... The Spiritual life is the life of a child. We are not uncertain of God, just uncertain of what He is going to do next... Leave everything to Him and it will be gloriously and graciously uncertain how He will come in-- but you can be certain that He will come. Remain faithful to Him."</div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-16016469982412037062008-08-16T11:58:00.000-07:002008-08-16T12:08:23.202-07:00In pursuit of AgapeI am thankful that I didn't have to jump back into work right after my Molokai experience. Instead, I have the freedom to apply all that I learned to my relationships unencumbered by Young Life needs. The problem with a relational ministry like Young Life is that all your relationships seem to gravitate around the ministry for the good and the bad.<div><br /></div><div>I am in pursuit of agape. During my time in SF and now here in Seattle I have been spending time with as many people as I can without feeling like I'm "fitting them in". It's been wonderful to spend genuine time with friends and family. I've been able to spend real time with people, without worry of a next engagement. There is a joy in being able to truly spend time without looking at the clock on my cell phone. There is a joy in wanting to be with each other more because the present moment is so sweet.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am finding that in a pursuit of agape, one cannot take any moment of a relationship for granted. It is a gift to enjoy, cherish, and devour.</div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-65396404680134906112008-08-12T01:43:00.000-07:002008-08-12T01:59:38.498-07:00not yet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKEgmQBc2GCHjJ5TPMvumuFW875b97xIuib8-eintlI9H5aEpDHgOPEkyFSvIRXVKUWTF4BUlZail4U40TmbYbghdhyphenhyphen1dCcTUyqoTHL4qpJRYxEwg5N71hMgvr9VIMnsi8yaAcOwdu_90/s1600-h/IMG_0508.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKEgmQBc2GCHjJ5TPMvumuFW875b97xIuib8-eintlI9H5aEpDHgOPEkyFSvIRXVKUWTF4BUlZail4U40TmbYbghdhyphenhyphen1dCcTUyqoTHL4qpJRYxEwg5N71hMgvr9VIMnsi8yaAcOwdu_90/s400/IMG_0508.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233553151606130418" /></a><br />It's been a week since I've been back on the mainland. My body has finally adjusted to the time zone although it's almost 2am and I'm still wide awake. Part of me is just restless right now. I leave for Seattle in two days, then Minnesota next week. I haven't even gotten accustomed to SF yet. Really, I'm not ready to leave Molokai yet. <div><br /></div><div>I have the same amount of time here in SF as I did in Molokai, yet I'm not connected to God the way I was on the island. I don't awake to birds chirping. Instead, I wake up to an impatient neighbor honking their horn for someone to come outside. I don't see the blue ocean and green grass. Instead, I have gray concrete and gray ocean because of the overcast. </div><div><br /></div><div>Gina, Kimi and I have found it hard to let go of Molokai. The owner of the condo reminded me it was an island of refuge for the kings. We keep watching videos and pouring over pictures, talking to our Molokai friends online or on the phone and listening to all the hawaiian music we can get our hands on. We found refuge there and none of us can seem to let it go.</div><div><br /></div><div>The trick is moving forward. Not moving on. I don't want to forget all that I experienced and learned from my time there. I want to use all of that to push me forward into even greater experiences. How do I love my friends and family better, with agape? How do I love them with that same intensity and passion I had for my Molokai friends? How do I take time to just hang out with God and let Him lavish His love on me?</div><div><br /></div><div>How do you keep the Moses-like glow when all you see are people dancing around man-made gods?</div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-67340104942098406622008-08-05T12:50:00.000-07:002008-08-05T13:48:57.674-07:00Molokai Moments<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SJi8mnrWvxI/AAAAAAAAADc/v-dZXoxcMbo/s1600-h/IMG_3178.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SJi8mnrWvxI/AAAAAAAAADc/v-dZXoxcMbo/s320/IMG_3178.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231138338862710546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicExDQ-lSedzCmadswivOFQmgoCsYbEjtr3h_cQ_Et2NYNIr_DrGwg8ihy15vMKKiVkeS3DNXO0C8WZo6y5e4oliWObVRQpLZv4ektHL7q8lN5ffoB2bQDFdgP1Vox-SHDa7XbLy_75HM/s1600-h/IMG_3314.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicExDQ-lSedzCmadswivOFQmgoCsYbEjtr3h_cQ_Et2NYNIr_DrGwg8ihy15vMKKiVkeS3DNXO0C8WZo6y5e4oliWObVRQpLZv4ektHL7q8lN5ffoB2bQDFdgP1Vox-SHDa7XbLy_75HM/s320/IMG_3314.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231138347784541778" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkegrsJmqZO3_qr5W8f_KgXFa2-kof6BHKMpSFXCoLIsKHbhvtS8hAwJOxU5BNcH_n_PbST1sNeT2sIG1Cp2uNdIzNIrUsbnaisED6b20Jdx7j3hOxWUm84UmP7nRR35shYlb5-jlLW20/s1600-h/IMG_3329.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkegrsJmqZO3_qr5W8f_KgXFa2-kof6BHKMpSFXCoLIsKHbhvtS8hAwJOxU5BNcH_n_PbST1sNeT2sIG1Cp2uNdIzNIrUsbnaisED6b20Jdx7j3hOxWUm84UmP7nRR35shYlb5-jlLW20/s320/IMG_3329.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231138354491306642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SJi8oDAD5zI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Y6JuuT4687Y/s1600-h/IMG_0860.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SJi8oDAD5zI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Y6JuuT4687Y/s320/IMG_0860.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231138363377182514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SJi8ofJ2ZCI/AAAAAAAAAD8/gUoUT9cWZ0c/s1600-h/IMG_0897.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SJi8ofJ2ZCI/AAAAAAAAAD8/gUoUT9cWZ0c/s320/IMG_0897.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231138370934432802" /></a><br />I am now back in San Francisco. My heater is turned up to 75 and I'm still freezing. The weather is foggy and sad here, but it doesn't matter as I haven't left my apartment except to hit the gym and work off all the fried coconut chicken I made in Molokai.<div><br /></div><div>I imagined myself blogging every day for you my wonderful friends, but the dial-service from Mobettah.net (yes that's right) was not consistent and it was painfully slow. It was not mobettah. So now I will just have to recap my last week in Molokai the best I can.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had about a day after Gina left and before Kimi arrived. The timing of their stay was perfect. Before Gina came I had been alone for two weeks and had enough of solitude. I always thought I'd make a great nun, but maybe not a silent one. When Kimi arrived it was a whole new experience. To Gina I am her "ate" (pronounced ah-teh). It means older sister. That's how we relate to each other. She doesn't call me Joyce, she calls me "ate". She knows I will take care of her and look out for her just as any older sister would. It's a relationship I cherish and love.</div><div><br /></div><div>With Kimi it's different. We've been friends for about 12 years now, ever since I started volunteering for Young Life. She knows me better than anyone. We have very different personalities, but it's nice to have someone push you and challenge the way you operate in the world. Since I moved to SF 2 years ago, we've had a tough time nurturing our friendship. This trip is exactly what we needed. From the very beginning we poured out to each other, cried, laughed, encouraged each other, prayed for and with each other. We've never spent that much time together and I am grateful that we did.</div><div><br /></div><div>Much like taking kids to camp, there was a progression to my time in Molokai. The first two weeks was for me to settle down and just reacquaint myself with God. As I read through "The Shack" and "Through Painted Deserts" I was reminded of the kind of relationship He desires to have with us. </div><div><br /></div><div>The third week with Gina and our new friends had me think about who I was in relationship to others. Did I mention that? We made friends with a group of Mormon guys from Oahu who were working on the roofs on the property. I learned to appreciate people in a new way. I love the way Gina can captivate boys just by being who she is. I love the way Nephi smiles when he plays guitar. I love the way Mana smiles full of content and happiness. I love how humble and down to earth Paulo is although he's a UFC fighter and really not too bad looking. I love how Dara tries so hard to be liked even though he's very likable without trying. I was enjoying every moment spent together on the lanai singing along with the ukulele and guitar.</div><div><br /></div><div>The fourth week was where it all came together. I was sitting in the condo looking at a palm tree swaying in the strong trade winds. I thought about how much I appreciated that palm tree. Then I thought about how Kimi and I drove to the other end of the island where the road ends and spills into Halawa Bay. It was the most beautiful place I have every seen. There were lush mountains with waterfalls hugging a bay that looked like it was built by a resort. But there were only two small houses there and no resort in sight. I felt like God was saying, "Joyce, I made this for you to you enjoy". </div><div><br /></div><div>Then I thought about all the things I was enjoying. I loved the geckos that would stress me out a night with their scurrying and clicking sounds. I loved that "Aunty Betsy" came by with papayas and that the boys often came with fish they had just caught or coconuts they had just picked. I loved the solitude of Kepohi beach where I can sing at the top of my lungs and no one will hear. I love walking along the lava rocks as the waves crash into them. I love the little red headed cardinal that sits on my chair as I read and journal. I loved that some seals came to sun themselves for a couple days and let me take pictures of them. I love the drives into town with nothing but rolling green and red volcano dirt. I love getting to know our new friends and learning how to speak pidgin and how to play the ukulele. I love that I woke up with sun and the sound of birds at 7am (the birds start chirping at 6am though). All of it for me to enjoy.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had been praying for a year that I could better receive God's love for me. In my appreciation I realized I was being loved and loving it! It was like falling in love for the first time. The blue of the ocean seemed bluer and the green of the grass seemed greener. The Hawaiian love songs were that much sweeter. I couldn't stop smiling because for the first time in a long time I know that I am loved. I can't really put into words the kind of revelation I experienced there, but it was something of a new awakening. I understood just a little bit more of the lavish love God pours out to us.</div><div><br /></div><div>Kimi and I left Molokai very sad. I had developed an intense love for our new friends and of course the island. I didn't want the feeling to go away as concrete replaces sand and buildings replace palm trees. I didn't want to leave the place where God's love for me was so evident. We went to Waikiki where all the stores and attractions seemed meaningless. The streets were jammed with tourists and it seemed that they were all oblivious to the beauty of creation beyond the souvenir stores and the Cheesecake Factory. I had seen God's glory on the mountain and was now back with people dancing around man made idols. </div><div><br /></div><div>I still have a month left of this sabbatical. How do I take all that I experienced and learned into my everyday life? I don't know. I do know that God is the same here in SF as He is in Molokai and I just need to keep my eyes open.</div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-56168708828100869102008-07-24T03:15:00.000-07:002008-07-24T03:30:58.547-07:0024 hours in Maui<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SIhZjg6M1NI/AAAAAAAAAC0/8cB_SD84oEQ/s1600-h/IMG_3134.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SIhZjg6M1NI/AAAAAAAAAC0/8cB_SD84oEQ/s200/IMG_3134.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226525834227799250" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SIhZkATnsJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/q6i1QNfSt18/s1600-h/IMG_3225.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SIhZkATnsJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/q6i1QNfSt18/s200/IMG_3225.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226525842655916178" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SIhZkaAz-MI/AAAAAAAAADE/gpuvwC54sjE/s1600-h/IMG_3219.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SIhZkaAz-MI/AAAAAAAAADE/gpuvwC54sjE/s200/IMG_3219.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226525849556351170" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbFnvw4IR9aBpRQ4Q2wIzDrQuzPJ-hSef-Kd4cX2jUkU1ClAg3V7K61viiAoc0qQRsg0kLo6Bn1EeJDigrYj3EVaeuG6z4NWYIVnIoSEDNBAzWQf9tW24OxoNj3WI8fgRsN34fUFfZbc/s1600-h/IMG_0546.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbFnvw4IR9aBpRQ4Q2wIzDrQuzPJ-hSef-Kd4cX2jUkU1ClAg3V7K61viiAoc0qQRsg0kLo6Bn1EeJDigrYj3EVaeuG6z4NWYIVnIoSEDNBAzWQf9tW24OxoNj3WI8fgRsN34fUFfZbc/s200/IMG_0546.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226525854974466322" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SIhZk8ggdQI/AAAAAAAAADU/srACwYow-x0/s1600-h/IMG_0556.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SIhZk8ggdQI/AAAAAAAAADU/srACwYow-x0/s200/IMG_0556.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226525858816095490" /></a><br />Well, more like 36 hours. Gina and I left Molokai this morning and caught the 5:30am ferry to Maui. She is flying out to Seattle tomorrow and wanted some time to actually get to shop (Molokai's shopping is not quite up to par). I have taken several pictures of the sunsets here, but this morning I took my one and only picture of the sun rising. The trip was good for me, but several people (including Gina) got really seasick as the water was really choppy from the trade winds. <div><br /></div><div>We checked into the Royal Laihana (Priceline steal) and the first thing I thought of was "Jesus Loves me!" It's a beautiful room with a great lanai and view of the beach. We shopped all day, and had an amazing dinner. My first time having filet mignon! SOOOO good! We also had some really great conversations about what God has been teaching us in Molokai, love, relationships, how to use our gifts and other great life topics. For me, I am learning lots of lessons on my relationship with God and with others. More on that later. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm pretty sure all of our new island boys friends loved getting to know her this past week too. They came over last night, sat on our lanai and serenaded her on the ukulele. It was really sweet.</div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-49432615489130105922008-07-21T14:28:00.000-07:002008-07-21T14:49:55.497-07:00The difficulty of restI find myself having a hard time blocking out everything, resting without progression, sitting at the feet of Christ without worrying about what dishes need to get cleaned in the kitchen. Last night in a series of thoughts (none of them completely finished) I found myself in the kitchen again so to speak.<br /><br />"Will I ever get married? Ooh, I should use the relationships angle from the Shack for my article to the Student Youth Ministry journal. How much playdoh do I need to buy for the Wyldlife camp in January? Should I talk about Zacheaus for the whole weekend?" My thoughts pretty much run like this at 2am on a regular basis. It may be why I'm so tired all the time.<br /><br />But when I catch myself I have to force a deep breath. Having dial-up internet service, no cell phone coverage, and no stores to shop at have all helped me slow down some. It's amazing how many distractions we face at any given moment. There are few errands to run; few "things to do" for the day. Today my goal is to read and write. That's it. Read and write. But guilt sets in and I fight myself to be okay that I won't accomplish much in the day and I will probably gain some weight to boot. Sitting around and just "being" is tough.OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-46229402721309896092008-07-18T16:46:00.000-07:002008-07-18T17:37:31.585-07:00Mobettah MolokaiI have a feeling God had His hand in "unplugging" me for a couple weeks. I wasn't expecting it to be so hard to get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">internet</span> connection but it was. The first problem is that I don't have a dial-up port on my Mac. That seemed to really confuse Justin from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Mobettah</span>.net the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">internet</span> provider. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Wifi</span> doesn't really reach the end of the island where I am. He then referred me to Trevor. <br /><br />Trevor is an African guy who came to Molokai via Minnesota (?). His business is in a trailer in the back of his house. There are two young locals that seem to work with him. They were talking <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">pigeon</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">computerese</span> and I couldn't understand a word they said. Trevor looked at my computer and couldn't understand why there wasn't a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">dail</span>-up modem. "Every computer has a dial up modem. Is this new?" "No, I bought it two years ago." I mentioned the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Airbook</span> which doesn't even have a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">cd</span> drive. Maybe that was too much tech to throw at him all at once.<br /><br />I finally got the external port I needed but it took a few days, to get it (via phone order and fed ex) and make it work. All of that made me realize, I needed to be unplugged. I have no cell phone coverage and no <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Internet</span> for the past two weeks. It's been good. <br /><br />I had two solid weeks of just me and God. I read The Shack and Through Painted Deserts. Both of which reminded me that the main business I need to be about it building a relationship with Jesus. So simple and so true, but so hard. Just sit as His feet? Don't worry about quiet time rituals or studying the social context of the book of Philippians? Don't build a stronger volunteer base or set larger goals for the upcoming year? Just sit as His feet?<br /><br />The beach where my condo is is incredible. I have dubbed it the Sanctuary. I truly feel as if when I sit on the lava rocks and stare out to the ocean (you can see Oahu on a clear day) that I am <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">sitting</span> before God. Prayer is too formal of a word here. It's more of just being with God, taking in creation, breathing in His air, listening to creation say, "I am loved, how much more you?" The Sanctuary is where I have cried and sang and listened. It us unlike any other place I've been to. It's safe and beautiful and welcoming. <br /><br />I can't seem to post pictures here, but you can find it on my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Facebook</span>. <br /><br />My cousin Gina arrived last Monday. Since then my solitude has been changed, but it's welcome change. 10 days is a long time to be alone. We also met a group of guys who are living and working on the property. It's been nice to have people to hang out with. They are mostly younger guys, some from Oahu, some from Utah, one from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Connecticut</span>: all Mormon, all <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Asian</span> or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Pacific</span> islander. They love God and Jesus, sing on the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">ukulele</span> how much you can depend on Him, and are genuinely some of the nicest guys I've met in a while. I'm a little unsure about the difference between our faiths, but I'm trying not to go there in our conversations since I don't have a ton of knowledge about the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">differences</span>. They consider themselves Christian, but somehow I struggle with "the line" between us. I know the book of Mormon automatically changes the game for us, but what are the other essential differences? Any wisdom out<br />there?<br /><br />Our new friends have shown us how urban we are. They asked us why would we buy mangoes and Papayas at the market when we can just pick them off the trees (we couldn't identify what one of those trees looks like). Maana also called us ballers because we bought our water. Gina and I felt a little silly when they are living off the land. They spear fish for their dinners and climb trees for coconuts. Darah (the one from Connecticut oddly enough) even shot one of the turkeys that roam around the property, plucked it and cooked it up. That's pretty smart considering I spent $181 dollars at the market my first day out here. Gas is $5 a gallon and the town is 20 miles away. It's expensive to leave the condo. <br /><br />Today is really windy and rainy at times. Our new friends are leaving for Oahu for the weekend and we're getting some time to ourselves once again. I'll have to write about my massage experience in the next blog. Here' s a teaser: the woman stuck her fingers IN my ears and told me I was a Giver. It gets more wierd trust me.OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-5446215086480479222008-07-02T23:47:00.001-07:002008-07-03T01:18:42.343-07:00I made it! Aloha!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGyLLVDSXgI/AAAAAAAAACs/pThTJ5A2PQc/s1600-h/IMG_0459.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGyLLVDSXgI/AAAAAAAAACs/pThTJ5A2PQc/s200/IMG_0459.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218699094961315330" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGyFBnsoBzI/AAAAAAAAACk/cVNqPEpaHuY/s1600-h/IMG_0438.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGyFBnsoBzI/AAAAAAAAACk/cVNqPEpaHuY/s320/IMG_0438.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218692331098081074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGyEK7T6aDI/AAAAAAAAACc/lc4L7FdQH-U/s1600-h/IMG_0431.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGyEK7T6aDI/AAAAAAAAACc/lc4L7FdQH-U/s320/IMG_0431.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218691391470331954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGyDsK54vPI/AAAAAAAAACU/ZesQSnBjBmM/s1600-h/IMG_0431.JPG"></a><span><span><br /><br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGx2gEYjjQI/AAAAAAAAABk/jo9c1r3Dgo8/s1600-h/IMG_0446.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGx2gEYjjQI/AAAAAAAAABk/jo9c1r3Dgo8/s200/IMG_0446.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218676361520188674" /></a>My head and Diamond head (hehe)<div><br /></div><div>I got on the plane this morning, kicked of my shoes and prayed for a smooth journey and a refreshing trip to Hawaii. It was nice except for when we were about to land and I realized I had lost one of shoes! I started picturing someone two rows down picking up my sandal and asking who's it was. Then I'd have to sheepishly claim it and everyone would know I had my shoes off on the plane. I also pictured standing at the baggage claim without my shoes while people looked at me in pity. I panicked for a few minutes while trying to look cool, but before the last person deplaned I found my shoe and all was well.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I landed at 11am and had a whole day in front of me. I took the shuttle to Waikiki. The traffic of Honolulu stressed me out. I'm glad I'm staying here for a couple days, but the idea of rural Molokai sounds so much better to me. I checked into my fabulous boutique hotel and set out to hunt and gather food. Okay, so I just went to the end of the block and ordered take out from Roy's. In the next few hours I walked around the shops, took a dip in the ocean (okay got my butt kicked by the waves), Caught an outdoor show celebrating Hula Week, bought my dinner from the ABC store and retired early since I'm a bit jetlagged. Ah the island life :)</div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow I'm taking surf lessons by the pool even though I don't know how to swim.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-58933888185483126102008-07-01T01:22:00.000-07:002008-07-01T01:37:59.071-07:00Back in SF<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGnsFA03_1I/AAAAAAAAAAk/p2ZMPg25mxs/s1600-h/IMG_3015.JPG"><span><span></span></span><span><span></span></span><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGnsFA03_1I/AAAAAAAAAAk/p2ZMPg25mxs/s200/IMG_3015.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217961214150704978" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGnsGQ57hGI/AAAAAAAAAAs/n02iH3nFSww/s1600-h/IMG_3032.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGnsGQ57hGI/AAAAAAAAAAs/n02iH3nFSww/s200/IMG_3032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217961235646743650" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGnsH7Aq9hI/AAAAAAAAAA0/WseBsSasArc/s1600-h/IMG_3029.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGnsH7Aq9hI/AAAAAAAAAA0/WseBsSasArc/s200/IMG_3029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217961264129177106" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjufhatdWM3gNSylogOnEDJ9-R0YyCf1AVACqV5PgNrt-bZlSKLVWJgo0mXX2uTL7hE5jBaKK_iybMkT96YYUvTUGgZ11bVdKJkF6aW9Y299z2f-joqF4TgpCKzT1kL5d2kU8yn8jsfR9k/s1600-h/IMG_3078.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjufhatdWM3gNSylogOnEDJ9-R0YyCf1AVACqV5PgNrt-bZlSKLVWJgo0mXX2uTL7hE5jBaKK_iybMkT96YYUvTUGgZ11bVdKJkF6aW9Y299z2f-joqF4TgpCKzT1kL5d2kU8yn8jsfR9k/s200/IMG_3078.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217961289980827378" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb4byfFytcDj8xZ_yWukO7E9diCJndj395CuJf23W0QEBbJePaex4-vTnkyQaa-8c6FZQhe6mIcHYjl7hGZDWa08VduBEXJfWWIxRu2mgFSG2HDId9Tb9LIhV6k8MbaWRR8zzbGqpbb_w/s1600-h/IMG_3085.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb4byfFytcDj8xZ_yWukO7E9diCJndj395CuJf23W0QEBbJePaex4-vTnkyQaa-8c6FZQhe6mIcHYjl7hGZDWa08VduBEXJfWWIxRu2mgFSG2HDId9Tb9LIhV6k8MbaWRR8zzbGqpbb_w/s200/IMG_3085.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217961310605041762" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGnqt6yNOmI/AAAAAAAAAAc/avFYh1FH3Ak/s1600-h/Photo+201.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SGnqt6yNOmI/AAAAAAAAAAc/avFYh1FH3Ak/s320/Photo+201.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217959717880281698" /></a><br />I'm back in SF for a couple days before I leave for Hawaii. Today I got to spend some time with my roomate Renee. We had lunch, bought a bluetooth (law in effect tomorrow) and watched Sex in the City the movie. Good day.<br /><br />I'm adding some shots of Seattle I took on the trip. The girl on the left is my niece Sarah, singer and brown belt in Jujitsu.OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-88514551421087041842008-06-25T22:51:00.000-07:002008-06-25T23:01:43.088-07:00UnplannedI had big plans for the two weeks that I would be in Seattle. I thought, "I'm going to hit the gym every day and I'll see everyone I know in Seattle and spend quality time catching up with all of them." I think I've accomplished 1/4 of that. I haven't hit the gym once and I've made it worse by eating at my favorite burger place DIck's Drive In. Okay, I didn't do a "SuperSize Me" thing, (although I would if I could get away with it). I only went to Dick's once, but I feel like I've been eating fried everything-else for the past two weeks. <br /><br />As for seeing everyone I know in Seattle. That hasn't quite worked out either. Since I slept the first week I was here I've lost valuable catching up time. Now I am seeing who I can and hoping the rest can forgive me. I'll be back in Seattle in August for my cousin's wedding so maybe I can catch up with more folks then. <br /><br />One unplanned but pleasant surprise has been my time with my grandmother and cousin Jay's family. I don't get to see my mother's side of the family often since they live in Ontario, Canada but it's really nice when I do, eh?OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-24757165039777308682008-06-24T20:42:00.000-07:002008-06-24T20:59:04.845-07:00Different kind of joy"I think this is women's version of porn..." my cousin leaned in and whispered to my ear. He said this as his wife darted from section to section at Macy's in the accessories floor. We had been shopping for hours and she hadn't stopped once. I could certainly smell the familiar aroma of addiction in the air. Some of the smell was coming from me. <br /><br />Shopping has always been a big part of my life. Is that a female thing? Or is that just me? From middle school I knew the joy of finding a bargain at Nordstrom Rack. The thrill of the hunt, the allure of red sale signs, the pounding of my heart when I see the signs "Store closing everything must go" or "70% off"; these are all things have kept my addiction alive and thriving. I love shopping and I love a bargain. It brings me joy. Yes it may be temporary and shallow, but it's still joy none the less. Shopping has been a way for me to bond with my mom. It was a way for me to bond with my brother (we had a system and a pattern at the mall at one point). It was a way for me to enjoy vacations, relieve stress and escape reality. <br /><br />My cousins from Ottowa Canada are here at my parent's house visiting for two weeks. My cousin Jay is a big shopper. My mom and I have tamed over the years, but every now and then the beast gets awakened. Jay has woken that beast. We came home today with bags of stuff (I don't know what really, just a lot of it) and tomorrow we hit the outlet mall in Tulalip. I'll probably let my cousin and her family do the lions share of shopping since my bank account has not adjusted to my addiction. <br /><br />It's been fun for a couple days, but this shopping spree has a very short shelf life. At least it was fun while it lasted.OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-86279116470467464432008-06-20T14:40:00.000-07:002008-06-20T14:42:05.488-07:00I guess I was tiredI slept 11.5 hours last night.OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465196462993893147.post-54273028584484817582008-06-19T19:30:00.000-07:002008-06-19T20:26:41.111-07:00Take my yoke upon you...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SFsjUUKiCBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vG0TY-xfQVg/s1600-h/IMG_3003.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_LYRcRBIcKPA/SFsjUUKiCBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vG0TY-xfQVg/s320/IMG_3003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213799825528719378" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-QVrmvSqi-h8bZdehosH8YOj0QkPmBhS5pp2433nt_H0mk_2N6V96cwsK4EtiPInKghSKcGwYhplHOMaGHd4w7iaf8rOlCM4RKAYq9p8sOgWAn3ifzfXmjLtBYJRfuQVtOIshRwe91k/s1600-h/IMG_2913.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-QVrmvSqi-h8bZdehosH8YOj0QkPmBhS5pp2433nt_H0mk_2N6V96cwsK4EtiPInKghSKcGwYhplHOMaGHd4w7iaf8rOlCM4RKAYq9p8sOgWAn3ifzfXmjLtBYJRfuQVtOIshRwe91k/s320/IMG_2913.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213799832214819058" /></a><br />I am closing off my 14th year of youth ministry. My 8th year in youth ministry full time. In other words: over 20 week long summer camps, over 70 retreats, about 20 staff retreats, 5 month long assignments working at various Young Life camps, 19 weeks of preaching/speaking at youth camps, probably another 20 other seminar/teaching engagements, recruiting and training around 50 volunteers, meeting hundreds of kids each year, starting two areas from the ground up, and on and on the list goes. It's not an amazing list (I certainly have friends who have clocked in more hours and done more incredible things within those hours), but it's not a small list either. <div><br /></div><div>Take my yoke upon you and I will give you rest.... this has been one of the most comforting things Jesus has said to me. I would run to this scripture in Matthew when I was in high school after crying from the stress of my schedule. And now finally 20 years later I have permission to take His yoke and sit at His feet (mixed passages sorry).<br /><div><br /></div><div>I've decided to blog my sabbatical for a couple reasons. One, I know some of you get bored at work and need to look busy :) Two, I need accountability. Although I do want to rest (there is gonna be a lot of sleeping these next few months) I also want to come out of this sabbatical with a refreshed outlook on ministry, my relationship with Christ and my relationship with people. I figured if I "report" what I'm doing, I'll have to do a little bit more than sleep and watch marathons of "Tori and Dean; Inn Love". So here it goes...</div><div><br /></div><div>I am 4 days into my sabbatical. The first day I spent running errands with my parents. I love going to Costco with my mom. It makes me feel like a kid again. Stopped by to make an appointment with my optometrist while my dad slept in the car. We picked up Nanay (grandmother) at the assisted living place. She's always on the phone texting (that's right texting) or talking to someone in the Philippines about the ministry she and my grandfather built. Never mind that she uses oxygen tanks, there are people to serve! Well into her 80's I can see my future. </div><div><br /></div><div>The next day I slept in till 1pm. I could have slept longer but my cousin called and said, "Are you asleep????" I guess the previous week of camp had caught up with me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday I was able to do a little shopping for items I may need in Hawaii. A Mac Airport Express (which I can't seem to get work), a pair of Chacos for my hikes through the island, and a pack of Hanes tshirts just because they're so dang soft. Spent several hours with my best friend catching up on life and ended up driving home at 2:30am.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today I woke up at 6:30am to make my eye appointment. Eyes slightly worse, but no need to change glasses. Slept some more and watched Juno the rest of the afternoon . </div><div><br /></div><div>I haven't seen very many people yet. I'm still pretty wiped out from the camp. Next week though, I'll be in full force catching up with as many people as I can.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>OneLovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02706363354364762619noreply@blogger.com4