1 half written post.
1 planned, but unwritten post.
1 really busy week.
1 more CAT commentary due.
1 more CAT essay draft due.
1 Art History midterm today.
1 heart reminded.
I woke up at 7:00 today to move my car, and the whole drive to the top of the parking lot, I contemplated on whether I should go back and nap, or go study.
With a sore throat, hitting the sac seemed so tempting, but my unprepared mind forced me to keep myself awake.
And even in the midst of this chaos I am reminded by God to do my daily devotional and morning prayer for my fast. And I once again find peace.
There is so much to do, yet so little time.
And still I sit here typing these seemingly meaningless words.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Gone...
Gone, like yesterday is gone...
...My high school dreams are gone...
Well, not completely. So coming back from work today, I passed by the Career Services Center while they were having their GREEN Job and Internship Fair. "Health and Safety", "Conservation", blah blah blah, then as I neared the steps something caught my eye, "San Diego Zoo."
At first, I thought of a Homegroup trip, then I realized they weren't here to publicize the zoo but rather look for prospective employees. This brought me back to my High School (and even all the way back to Elementary school) dream.
Some kids grow up wanting to be a police officer, fire fighter, archaeologist, but not me. I have always wanted to be a zoo keeper/veterinarian. Somebody that works with tigers and other large mammals.
And I just got to thinking, "whatever happened to that dream? Was it really just a phase? I mean, if it was, why am I thinking about it so much now?"
Then I realized why I am on the path to becoming a teacher rather than a vet. Quite a bit ago I prayed that "Your will be done, and not mine, let Your plans become my plans." And so my dream of pursuing a career with animals that I love faded away, and my dream of pursuing a career with man that God loves arose.
After all, we're called to be fishers of men right?
...My high school dreams are gone...
Well, not completely. So coming back from work today, I passed by the Career Services Center while they were having their GREEN Job and Internship Fair. "Health and Safety", "Conservation", blah blah blah, then as I neared the steps something caught my eye, "San Diego Zoo."
At first, I thought of a Homegroup trip, then I realized they weren't here to publicize the zoo but rather look for prospective employees. This brought me back to my High School (and even all the way back to Elementary school) dream.
Some kids grow up wanting to be a police officer, fire fighter, archaeologist, but not me. I have always wanted to be a zoo keeper/veterinarian. Somebody that works with tigers and other large mammals.
And I just got to thinking, "whatever happened to that dream? Was it really just a phase? I mean, if it was, why am I thinking about it so much now?"
Then I realized why I am on the path to becoming a teacher rather than a vet. Quite a bit ago I prayed that "Your will be done, and not mine, let Your plans become my plans." And so my dream of pursuing a career with animals that I love faded away, and my dream of pursuing a career with man that God loves arose.
After all, we're called to be fishers of men right?
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Desperation
So I await the words that you say
I open my life
I am longing just to hear these words
That you say, that you say
Something Like Silas took the words right out of my mouth in the song "Words that You say."
Recently things have been so chaotic, half of me seems to be at peace, while the other half in the middle of a war. I feel torn apart, confused, and trying to make sense of both worlds. And so why does S.L.S. do a great job saying what I need to say? Because I desperately need to hear the words from my God.
Don't get me wrong, I am not in doubt of God. I do not want Him to speak so He can prove His existence, neither am I asking Him to speak to tell me what to do, or am I asking Him to show His power. What I do want is for Him to comfort me.
I am in no doubt that He is teaching me new things, and I am ready to take on all the pain and suffering to gain what He wants me to. But one thing I do desire, is to hear His voice in the midst of these trials. The one thing I ask. After all, "ask and it shall be given" right?
Yet, at times I feel so alone, but even in those times I know that He is right beside me. Beside me but silent. Why?
And so as this song was on replay in my mind throughout this week, I decided played it on my way to Irvine this week for the Collabo meeting. And this time, as I sat there in my car, as I was talking to God, the dam broke. The tears started to flow, as I made this simple song my simple prayer. Embarrassed, humbled, ashamed, would be the sum of my emotions during my car ride. I placed everything I had at His feet. If He didn't do it now, "in this close communion," then who knows when I would have another chance. And I poured out not knowing, and not expecting an answer, I heard nothing. Not even the "still small voice." But as I neared Irvine, I felt a pressing to do my daily devotionals.
As I parked my car in the driveway, I flipped open my Bible to 2 Corinthians 12. If you can read it, and you will see God's glory. I won't say much because I want you to read it. But, Paul is faced with a weakness, yet in his weakness, he is strong.
I could not cry anymore, so I sat in my car for the next 30 minutes worshipping. Basking in His presence, basking in His glory, and giving praise to Him for bringing me through once again.
And in this moment, mourning turned to dancing. Emptiness filled. and
cries of desperation turned to praise.
I open my life
I am longing just to hear these words
That you say, that you say
Something Like Silas took the words right out of my mouth in the song "Words that You say."
Recently things have been so chaotic, half of me seems to be at peace, while the other half in the middle of a war. I feel torn apart, confused, and trying to make sense of both worlds. And so why does S.L.S. do a great job saying what I need to say? Because I desperately need to hear the words from my God.
Don't get me wrong, I am not in doubt of God. I do not want Him to speak so He can prove His existence, neither am I asking Him to speak to tell me what to do, or am I asking Him to show His power. What I do want is for Him to comfort me.
I am in no doubt that He is teaching me new things, and I am ready to take on all the pain and suffering to gain what He wants me to. But one thing I do desire, is to hear His voice in the midst of these trials. The one thing I ask. After all, "ask and it shall be given" right?
Yet, at times I feel so alone, but even in those times I know that He is right beside me. Beside me but silent. Why?
And so as this song was on replay in my mind throughout this week, I decided played it on my way to Irvine this week for the Collabo meeting. And this time, as I sat there in my car, as I was talking to God, the dam broke. The tears started to flow, as I made this simple song my simple prayer. Embarrassed, humbled, ashamed, would be the sum of my emotions during my car ride. I placed everything I had at His feet. If He didn't do it now, "in this close communion," then who knows when I would have another chance. And I poured out not knowing, and not expecting an answer, I heard nothing. Not even the "still small voice." But as I neared Irvine, I felt a pressing to do my daily devotionals.
As I parked my car in the driveway, I flipped open my Bible to 2 Corinthians 12. If you can read it, and you will see God's glory. I won't say much because I want you to read it. But, Paul is faced with a weakness, yet in his weakness, he is strong.
I could not cry anymore, so I sat in my car for the next 30 minutes worshipping. Basking in His presence, basking in His glory, and giving praise to Him for bringing me through once again.
And in this moment, mourning turned to dancing. Emptiness filled. and
cries of desperation turned to praise.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Piss Christ.
Piss Christ is a controversial photograph by American photographer Andres Serrano. It depicts a small plastic crucifix submerged in a glass of the artist's urine. This piece was a winner of the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Art's "Awards in the Visual Arts" competition.
During my art history section, my episcopalian TA talked about Jesus. The discussion today was about simulacra and simulation. Simulacra was defined as "a copy of an idea," and simulation was described as "a copy of an original". And also the term, "semiotic discourse," which is the association of an object with something else. An example he used in class was, when people see the cross, they automatically think of Christianity rather than a Roman torturing device.
The example of the image of Jesus, or rather the "constructed image of Jesus," my TA asked us about how we thought Jesus looked. The description by fellow peers is as follows, "kind of tall, brown bearded white male" My TA then followed up by asking if anyone knew why this depiction of Jesus was wrong. When none of us could answer, he said "Single Jewish men were shaved." Which was the beginning of the awkward silence that echoed throughout the classroom.
After that short introduction, he explained why he was telling this to us. He said that through semiotic discourse we, as humans, have taken the pictorial Jesus, and have made it more real to us than the historical figure of Jesus. And through that "faith is needed less." Because we can see it, we do not need as much faith.
If I recall correctly, he did not mention whether or not it was wrong or not, he simply stated that the semiotic discourse gave people a misconception.
And this is why I am writing this entry. When my TA first told us about this "Piss Christ," my ears perked up, and I closed my laptop. I, along with other past Christians (I can only assume), was deeply offended. But, as he started to explain how people take this image of Christ and make it "more real to them than the real Jesus," I realized how foolish I was. We hear so many messages about not making idols of Jesus, and not letting the cross, or any image (for that matter), to take place and limit the capacity of our Lord. And time and time again I find myself being guilty of unintentionally placing my faith in some idol.
And so subconsciously I fall into the trap of just making the cross a symbol of Christianity, and rather than realize the importance of the act accomplished on the cross, I let this torturous device represent my faith. And even though this piece of art was made through secular means, and probably to spit at God, it showed me that Christianity cannot be limited through mere human representations. And just after the Homegroup message, I realized that we need to remember Christ and our faith not through idols, but through reflecting upon the times in which He saved us, the times in which He pulled through for us, and the times in which He strengthened us.
There is so much more I could write, but if I keep writing, I think most of you (who read this) would be bored. Also, sorry, I wrote this over a 4 hour period; from when I got out of class til the end of Homegroup, so it's really messy.
I hope that this reminds and encourages you to not limit the Lord through human representations, but through remembering and meditating on who He really is.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
My Date(s).
Recently, I have been asked many times "how do I do it?" referring to the driving that I do each week, referring to the 1 hour drives to Irvine, and to the waking up at 5:30 a.m. to head back to school for work or class.
The answer is quite simple; I enjoy my alone time. It is true, most of the time I am exhausted when driving, but the reason I don't fall asleep at the wheel (normally), is because I love my alone time. Well not exactly alone time, it's more of a date.
A date with my God.
After the first month of driving up and down from San Diego to home, I realized that the time could be spent so much more "usefully" (for lack of a better word). So I started to pray. It's a routine, I get in my car, play some Starfield, Something Like Silas, Delirious?, and I just start driving and praying.
It definitely keeps me awake, and definitely allows me to draw close to Him. I believe as Christians, we spend so much time in fellowship with brothers and sisters, and we give such a big part of our day to others, that we rarely spend time with God. A quick 1 minute prayer here, or a 5 minute prayer before I sleep, or a 30 second prayer before we eat. Altogether, I'd say that I spent (notice past tense) 10 minutes a day (not including Prayer on the Hill) with God.
And by realizing it, I am trying to do something about it. Though I don't necessarily pray the whole hour, I spend almost the whole time basking in the presence of my Lord.
That, my friends, is how I do it each week.
The answer is quite simple; I enjoy my alone time. It is true, most of the time I am exhausted when driving, but the reason I don't fall asleep at the wheel (normally), is because I love my alone time. Well not exactly alone time, it's more of a date.
A date with my God.
After the first month of driving up and down from San Diego to home, I realized that the time could be spent so much more "usefully" (for lack of a better word). So I started to pray. It's a routine, I get in my car, play some Starfield, Something Like Silas, Delirious?, and I just start driving and praying.
It definitely keeps me awake, and definitely allows me to draw close to Him. I believe as Christians, we spend so much time in fellowship with brothers and sisters, and we give such a big part of our day to others, that we rarely spend time with God. A quick 1 minute prayer here, or a 5 minute prayer before I sleep, or a 30 second prayer before we eat. Altogether, I'd say that I spent (notice past tense) 10 minutes a day (not including Prayer on the Hill) with God.
And by realizing it, I am trying to do something about it. Though I don't necessarily pray the whole hour, I spend almost the whole time basking in the presence of my Lord.
That, my friends, is how I do it each week.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
North! South! East! West!
Dragons! Dragons! We're the best!
On my way to Class 302, I was reminded of the days of my Boy Scout career. 8 years of 2 hour Saturday meetings. That's (52x2x8) 832 hours of Boy Scouts, not including the week long camping trips, days spent on community service, and everything else that Boy Scouts entails.
It's been about a year since the last Boy Scout meeting, and I just realized how much I miss it. All the things that I've learned, all the effort I poured out, and all the memories that were made, continue to flood my mind.
Troop 206. Dragon Patrol.
From Scout to Tenderfoot to Second Class to First Class to Star to Life...Never made it to Eagle Scout. If you ask me why didn't I make it to Eagle, I will always say "because I went to missions, so I didn't have time to finish my Eagle project" it is just a cover up story for my laziness.
8 long, yet now it feels so short, years of Boy Scouts and I never made it. For some it takes 4 years, for those who desperately want it, it could be as short as 3 years. Not for me. Laziness was my roadblock. And I regret it, deeply regret it. I used to imagine my Court of Honor (the ceremony for becoming and Eagle) as something so amazing that I would remember it for the rest of my life...but it never came.
But I know that I've learned more from Boy Scouts than any other institution in my life. I've learned to be responsible, to be a man, to be a leader, to "Be prepared" (Scout Motto), to be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. (Scout Law)
I had something else to say, but maybe i'll add more later.
But I'll end with this, when I first joined Boy Scouts, I hated it because I had to memorize Scout Oath, Scout Law, Scout Motto, and Scout Slogan. Now all of this is ingrained on my mind, for now, and forever.
On my honor, I will do my best
to do my duty to God and my country
to obey the Scout Law, to help others at all times,
to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.
-Scout Oath.
On my way to Class 302, I was reminded of the days of my Boy Scout career. 8 years of 2 hour Saturday meetings. That's (52x2x8) 832 hours of Boy Scouts, not including the week long camping trips, days spent on community service, and everything else that Boy Scouts entails.
It's been about a year since the last Boy Scout meeting, and I just realized how much I miss it. All the things that I've learned, all the effort I poured out, and all the memories that were made, continue to flood my mind.
Troop 206. Dragon Patrol.
From Scout to Tenderfoot to Second Class to First Class to Star to Life...Never made it to Eagle Scout. If you ask me why didn't I make it to Eagle, I will always say "because I went to missions, so I didn't have time to finish my Eagle project" it is just a cover up story for my laziness.
8 long, yet now it feels so short, years of Boy Scouts and I never made it. For some it takes 4 years, for those who desperately want it, it could be as short as 3 years. Not for me. Laziness was my roadblock. And I regret it, deeply regret it. I used to imagine my Court of Honor (the ceremony for becoming and Eagle) as something so amazing that I would remember it for the rest of my life...but it never came.
But I know that I've learned more from Boy Scouts than any other institution in my life. I've learned to be responsible, to be a man, to be a leader, to "Be prepared" (Scout Motto), to be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. (Scout Law)
I had something else to say, but maybe i'll add more later.
But I'll end with this, when I first joined Boy Scouts, I hated it because I had to memorize Scout Oath, Scout Law, Scout Motto, and Scout Slogan. Now all of this is ingrained on my mind, for now, and forever.
On my honor, I will do my best
to do my duty to God and my country
to obey the Scout Law, to help others at all times,
to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.
-Scout Oath.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
beauty.
Talking to some people just make me smile.
LOL becomes not just a filler in empty conversations, but chuckles that echo throughout my silent room. And I'm happy.
Those people just make my day by just uttering simple sentences.
A short "hi. how are you?" can transform gloomy clouds to a beautiful sunny day.
And I think to myself: It's good to know people care, and some people take the initiative to ask first rather than be asked.
It is also those very same people, that a simple smile can lighten up my day.
And I think to myself: It's good to know that entropy hasn't taken it's toll on happiness, and our ability to express our emotions.
And its the same type of simpleness to which I refer to when I say, a simple whisper from my God gives me strength to live each day.
And I think to myself: It is even more good to realize I serve a God who cares enough about His people to send His son (like a lamb to the slaughter) to the lowly lands which He created.
the beauty of simplicity.
LOL becomes not just a filler in empty conversations, but chuckles that echo throughout my silent room. And I'm happy.
Those people just make my day by just uttering simple sentences.
A short "hi. how are you?" can transform gloomy clouds to a beautiful sunny day.
And I think to myself: It's good to know people care, and some people take the initiative to ask first rather than be asked.
It is also those very same people, that a simple smile can lighten up my day.
And I think to myself: It's good to know that entropy hasn't taken it's toll on happiness, and our ability to express our emotions.
And its the same type of simpleness to which I refer to when I say, a simple whisper from my God gives me strength to live each day.
And I think to myself: It is even more good to realize I serve a God who cares enough about His people to send His son (like a lamb to the slaughter) to the lowly lands which He created.
the beauty of simplicity.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Golgotha
proper noun; place of the skull.
Sitting in church before service started, I decided to see what this day represents.
Out of the four accounts (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John) that I have just read, I cannot find anything "Good" about this day.
I'm just going to ramble and right out my thoughts.
Thought 1: Strength.
Mount of Olives, the place Jesus prayed, the place His disciples were arrested, the place in which He sweated drops of blood.
42"Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." 43An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. 44And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground."
Jesus, God in man form, was still a man. He knew what He was getting Himself into, He knew that death was coming. And it was coming soon, and it was not going to come painlessly. And despite the fact that He knew it was inevitable, He cried out. Even though He knew what was needed to be done, He cried out. Even though He knew His cries were futile, He cried out.
But despite the circumstances, God sent an angel to give Him strength. Strength to finish the work that He came to do. Strength to push through the last stretch. And then what?
Then He prayed, in anguish and earnestness. And in this time of what I can only imagine as pure grief, He sweated blood.
You can say it's a metaphor, but scientifically in times of great stress a person can sweat blood through their sweat glands.
But that is besides the point. When I read this in the account of Luke, I felt ashamed. Ashamed because when placed in times of distress, times of anger, times of frustration, times when I need someone, I turn away from God to the help of others. If God can give Jesus strength to go to the cross and die, then how much easier is it for Him to give me strength in times of just pure emotional distress?
Thought 2: Freedom.
At that moment the curtain of the sanctuary of the Temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.
The moment Jesus breathed His last, the moment He said "it is finished," the moment the veil was torn, we have gained freedom. Freedom for all people, to pursue God directly. Sweet sweet freedom.
But even at that, we still act like we are not free at all. We are like lions who have been captured, but the cage remains open, yet we still stay in our cage. Why? because it is all that we know. Or all that we used to know. Even with new life that Jesus gave us, we don't take advantage of the fact that we can come to God directly, we often only do it in times of need, seldomly do it before we sleep, when we should be doing it always.
Thought 3: Goodness.
3 days later, Jesus came back. He defeated death, "conquered the grace" as most of us sing. The Good part of Good Friday is that He went to the grave for us. He did the ultimate act of "humanism," death. But not in vain, but rather to save us.
Well service is starting, so maybe I'll type some more later (maybe expand more on the 3rd thought).
God Bless and have a Good Good Friday.
Sitting in church before service started, I decided to see what this day represents.
Out of the four accounts (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John) that I have just read, I cannot find anything "Good" about this day.
I'm just going to ramble and right out my thoughts.
Thought 1: Strength.
Mount of Olives, the place Jesus prayed, the place His disciples were arrested, the place in which He sweated drops of blood.
42"Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." 43An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. 44And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground."
Jesus, God in man form, was still a man. He knew what He was getting Himself into, He knew that death was coming. And it was coming soon, and it was not going to come painlessly. And despite the fact that He knew it was inevitable, He cried out. Even though He knew what was needed to be done, He cried out. Even though He knew His cries were futile, He cried out.
But despite the circumstances, God sent an angel to give Him strength. Strength to finish the work that He came to do. Strength to push through the last stretch. And then what?
Then He prayed, in anguish and earnestness. And in this time of what I can only imagine as pure grief, He sweated blood.
You can say it's a metaphor, but scientifically in times of great stress a person can sweat blood through their sweat glands.
But that is besides the point. When I read this in the account of Luke, I felt ashamed. Ashamed because when placed in times of distress, times of anger, times of frustration, times when I need someone, I turn away from God to the help of others. If God can give Jesus strength to go to the cross and die, then how much easier is it for Him to give me strength in times of just pure emotional distress?
Thought 2: Freedom.
At that moment the curtain of the sanctuary of the Temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.
The moment Jesus breathed His last, the moment He said "it is finished," the moment the veil was torn, we have gained freedom. Freedom for all people, to pursue God directly. Sweet sweet freedom.
But even at that, we still act like we are not free at all. We are like lions who have been captured, but the cage remains open, yet we still stay in our cage. Why? because it is all that we know. Or all that we used to know. Even with new life that Jesus gave us, we don't take advantage of the fact that we can come to God directly, we often only do it in times of need, seldomly do it before we sleep, when we should be doing it always.
Thought 3: Goodness.
3 days later, Jesus came back. He defeated death, "conquered the grace" as most of us sing. The Good part of Good Friday is that He went to the grave for us. He did the ultimate act of "humanism," death. But not in vain, but rather to save us.
Well service is starting, so maybe I'll type some more later (maybe expand more on the 3rd thought).
God Bless and have a Good Good Friday.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
WoW. WOW.
wow. 4:15 a.m. my clock tells me.
What am I doing up? WoW.
*knock knock*
wow. who is knocking on my door this early in the morning, I think to myself as I wake up. 2 p.m. my phone clock reads. WOW.
I rush out the door to my class only to find myself sitting in some sort of math or physics class. wow.
For the most part, the first part of today was extremely unproductive. Yet, as I go back to my room before my next class, I manage to fit in an hour of wow here, and a couple minutes of wow there.
I haven't felt this kind of addiction for the longest time. But now, even as I sit here typing this, thoughts of WoW are racing all around my head.
Why am I not playing it then?
Because the server keeps crashing. Hopefully by the end of this blog it'll be up again. Hopefully.
nope.
Well I've come to realize that I need to get my act together. Right now. It's the end of second week and I haven't done a single thing. Except go to a couple classes now and then. I need to really start trying and start doing well in my academic part of life.
Maybe...just maybe, if I start trying all these problems would just fade away.
Maybe if I start occupying myself with the busy-ness of UC San Diego life, I might be able to get my mind off of the things that so dreadfully fill my mind.
But other than that, praise the Lord for Homegroup today.
The Great Commission.
Time to put it in to work.
Serving as a family, saving lost souls, suffering for the Glory, and striving for the Eternal
San Diego Homegroup.
wow.
What am I doing up? WoW.
*knock knock*
wow. who is knocking on my door this early in the morning, I think to myself as I wake up. 2 p.m. my phone clock reads. WOW.
I rush out the door to my class only to find myself sitting in some sort of math or physics class. wow.
For the most part, the first part of today was extremely unproductive. Yet, as I go back to my room before my next class, I manage to fit in an hour of wow here, and a couple minutes of wow there.
I haven't felt this kind of addiction for the longest time. But now, even as I sit here typing this, thoughts of WoW are racing all around my head.
Why am I not playing it then?
Because the server keeps crashing. Hopefully by the end of this blog it'll be up again. Hopefully.
nope.
Well I've come to realize that I need to get my act together. Right now. It's the end of second week and I haven't done a single thing. Except go to a couple classes now and then. I need to really start trying and start doing well in my academic part of life.
Maybe...just maybe, if I start trying all these problems would just fade away.
Maybe if I start occupying myself with the busy-ness of UC San Diego life, I might be able to get my mind off of the things that so dreadfully fill my mind.
But other than that, praise the Lord for Homegroup today.
The Great Commission.
Time to put it in to work.
Serving as a family, saving lost souls, suffering for the Glory, and striving for the Eternal
San Diego Homegroup.
wow.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
thinking...overthinking....
Everyone is different. Some value education, some value themselves, some value money, and others value friends.
That would be my problem. I value friends. too much. way too much.
No, that isn't my problem, that is the root of my problem. My problem is that I expect friends to reciprocate what I do to them. Sacrifice then becomes something not that I do for others benefit, but rather for gain.
Is there a problem with this?
In fact, there is. To sacrifice is to give your all to others, regardless of how they react, and what they feel. So I need to check myself in the sense that when I sacrifice, I have to go in with a mentality that I am going to come out with nothing.
If I feel this way, I can't imagine what Jesus felt, or is feeling. He sacrificed His life for mankind, yet we constantly turn away.
Just thinking...
What does it all come down to?
Love.
That would be my problem. I value friends. too much. way too much.
No, that isn't my problem, that is the root of my problem. My problem is that I expect friends to reciprocate what I do to them. Sacrifice then becomes something not that I do for others benefit, but rather for gain.
Is there a problem with this?
In fact, there is. To sacrifice is to give your all to others, regardless of how they react, and what they feel. So I need to check myself in the sense that when I sacrifice, I have to go in with a mentality that I am going to come out with nothing.
If I feel this way, I can't imagine what Jesus felt, or is feeling. He sacrificed His life for mankind, yet we constantly turn away.
Just thinking...
What does it all come down to?
Love.
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