It's Another Adventure!

Once and once again, I face the clock. The clock is ticking backwards, and the pendulum’s swinging again. It doesn’t look to bow in favors; left or right, no front or back. I wish I could control the motion! But the battery’s not there: it’s not where it’s supposed to be. What’s making that stupid clock move, anyway?

Has it taken a life of its own? I don’t think so; it looks to be the most plausible answer. But it’s moving, and nothing’s starting it NOR stopping it. I don’t understand how it’s working! I can’t doubt, but it’s no choice: God is behind this.

If I feel a final countdown incoming, it is now. (Cue Europe’s song! And those 80’s hard-rock fans, hehe!) Once again, I am amazed at how time passes by. It’s not how I want it, though; once and once again, it’s how God wants it to be. It’s how His mercy works: by unveiling Himself in the most awkward and unexpected of ways. It’s how love goes around: by revealing the truth of our ways, and nursing us back to health. It’s the adventure that we are naturally and humanly ill-fitted to take on: it hurts, it bleeds, it sucks at times. But oh, the end will be glorious! Ah, I have the façade of reluctance, but oh, the joy of hoping for something we can’t see! 

So I don’t know when will I wipe the dust off my sandals, but that will be soon. We know where we are headed, but not where we will end…like the wind, we seem to be. And like that clock that moves on its own, that is time –God’s time, in the adventure of our lives.

Going Away

(I will skip the sacrifices for a while.  This was long overdue.

In March, my friend Michelle was accepted to the prestigious Oberlin Conservatory, in Ohio.  God has blessed her with an unique talent of singing, and she really deserved to go there.  When I saw a BBQ/going away event on May for her –she wasn’t the only one with a party, though-, I decided to write this on Art 1, on a B-day.  I did my work though! 

I was eager to show it to her, yet she wouldn’t be in school on the last day of school for seniors.  I gave a copy to my friend Kelly, the first person I knew on High Point.  I don’t know if I had spares!  The plan was to show it and tag all the seniors I could tag -naively- for graduation, two weeks later...
But for certain events, I believe this is time to unveil it…)

Don’t know if I’ll see you here again
I just have no chance but to let my guard down
It seems you are headed to a bright start
Please remember to look your name at the sighting of the starts

You’re going away to a higher place
You’re leaving us to follow your dreams
Don’t worry about us, we’ll be okay
We’ll keep moving on our ways
You’re going away to a higher place
You’re leaving us to move this planet up
Don’t worry about me, I’m safe in this life
I’m filled with sorrow, it’ll turn to dance

I remember when I came to the land of the free
Thought that no one would’ve known my name
But God knows that I needed some support
You will leave, don’t’ worry, I’ll find some like minds

My heart is wounded (X3)
I’ll help you pack your bags
My heart is wounded (X3)
God bless you in this life

Worship Offerings

I’ll speak of two different –yet similar- sacrifices that were also given at the Temple: the grain offerings and the fellowship offerings.

Both grain and fellowship offerings were made for worship, devotion, the reminder of God’s provision and common sharing between the community.

When someone brings a grain offering to the LORD… (Leviticus 2:1a, NIV)

Grain offerings were simply cakes or wafers of grain mixed with oil, yeast-less and honey-less, presented unto the Temple as a worship offering. When it was presented, it was taken to the altar, where a piece was taken as a token of memorial for the Lord. The rest was for Aaron and his priests. (In some occasions, drink offerings would be accompaniments with burnt and fellowship offerings.)

As I stated earlier, there was NO YEAST NOR HONEY. (Sorry for the all-caps; they give an UMPH! for when I need it!) As they were perfect, this symbolized that they can’t be contaminated with sin in ANY place in their lives. As with honey, this meant identification with pagan culture. Honey couldn’t have been the sweet concoction resulting from pollination; rather, this could’ve been a drink used in nearby pagan rites.

It was to be SEASONED WITH SALT. As the salt of the covenant, we are the salt of the world, aren’t we? Salt gives a taste, and we are to season the world with Christ.

It didn’t matter HOW IT WAS COOKED. Grill it, bake it, fry it, crumble-it, there had to be cakes or wafers, memorial of God’s provision.

If someone's offering is a fellowship offering…(Leviticus 3:1a, NIV)

Fellowship offerings had a rather similar purpose; however, this one involved animals. Bulls, sheep, or goats were the objects prepared for this sacrifice. As with animal-related offerings, they were to be WITHOUT DEFECT; meanwhile, it could be either male or female, not a restricted sex as in other types.

For a recap, the offering was presented to the Lord, and hands were laid on it; the animal was slaughtered at the Tent of Meeting’s entrance, and its blood poured out against the altar on all sides. This time, the fat, kidneys and liver were taken off the animal and burnt as a memorial for the Lord on top of the burnt offering.

The food was to be EATEN IN TWO DAYS. As this was the only sacrifice that the worshipper could partake in (as in my Quest Bible article), it also prompted communal sharing of the food. At the third day, everything that was left was to be burnt to God; if anyone ate the rest, it was unclean.

And the Israelites COULDN’T EAT FAT NOR BLOOD. Earlier, we concluded that blood represented life; that life sooner would come to Christ. As for fat, worshippers had to give the best choice meat to the One who sustained them in the desert. Isn’t it right to pour out ALL that we have, regardless of the past or the future?

Burnt Sacrifices

The LORD called to Moses and spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting. He said, "Speak to the Israelites and say to them: 'When any of you brings an offering to the LORD, bring as your offering an animal from either the herd or the flock.” (Leviticus 1:1,2, NIV)

Burnt sacrifices are the first type of offering mentioned in the book of Leviticus.  They were created for worship, fellowship with the Lord, and the cleansing of unintentional sin (as I read in my Quest Bible, stemming not from rebellion or will, but of flaws in human character).  This was a way to express surrender and penitence.

The ritual prescribed in the Bible for the offering of the best of the herd (a bull) was this one: The animal was to be presented to the Tent of Meeting (or the Tabernacle) in order to be given to the Lord.  Hands must be laid for the sacrifice and then be slaughtered.  The blood must be spilled “against the altar” at the Tabernacle’s entrance.  While the sacrifice was chopped up in pieces, the fire was ready for the sacrifice to be burnt.  The pieces were to be arranged on the altar’s burning wood.  The inner parts were to be washed, and all of it was burned.  With the best of the flock (a goat or sheep), the sacrifice was to be slaughtered at the north side of the altar, and the same ritual ensued.

For those who were poor or couldn’t afford buying a bull or a sheep, doves or pigeons were also used as atonement.  The priest brought it to the altar, and the head was wrung and burnt. The blood was drained on the altar’s side, and the crop (the canal thingy birds have) in the east side.  It was to be torn open (though not too harshly), and burn it in the altar.

Y’know what’s interesting?

It had to be a MALE sacrifice.  I guess this was a meaning for strength. 

It had to be WITHOUT BLEMISH.  It was supposed to be perfect, without stain nor nothing nasty…

It had to be WITHOUT DEFECT.  It couldn’t be crippled.  The sacrifice to be burnt was to be of the BEST and HIGHTEST quality.  It wasn’t your ordinary picnic to Shiloh: this was for the God of Hosts, the Lord of the Higest Glories. 

Hands were LAID ON THEIR HEAD.  They were saying, “God, I deserve to be on that goat’s/sheep’s place; but I recognize that this offering will give its life for my unworthiness.”

They had to be CUT INTO PIECES.  Were they “chopping off” our own unworthiness like every time my mom would chop meat with a meat cleaver?

It was BURNT COMPLETELY.  That aroma, the aroma of worship, truth and redemption, was taken to the Lord as an offering pleasing to His Glory.  The fire made that person clean, whole, pure, and vindicated from the Utmost.

Earth and Sacrifice

Make an altar of earth for me and sacrifice on it your burnt offerings and fellowship offerings, your sheep and goats and your cattle. Wherever I cause my name to be honored, I will come to you and bless you. (Exodus 20:24, NIV)

Sacrifices… That’s a hard topic to cover. What about sacrifices? What in the world did God institute them to the Israelites since the beginning of the covenant?

Sacrifices were a way of worship. All of the animals, the wheat, the flour and the ingredients had to be perfect, without blemish or defect. Each ritual, step by step, revealed that God wanted to be close to His chosen ones. When the ritual was finished, the blood was spilled, and the offering was burnt, an aroma was elevated to the sky into the nostrils of the King of Peace. It was pleasing in His sight.

If sacrifices were a way of worship, they were also a way of joining the Divine with the mortal. God, with no need to, created us mortal humans for His glory. Even if He was higher than what we determine as “high”, He sat his presence upon the Tent of Meeting (later the Temple) and observed how His people gave Him the praise He so deserved. He wanted for us to become closer to Him, even if we were not suited for His holiness...and that, God wanted to ensure that we remained closer to Him.

Sacrifices served as a simply complex reminder: God is holy, we are not. Every commandment God uttered through His words and His prophets reminded Israel –now us- that we must remain without blame, stain, or blemish through the eyes of the living God. It wasn’t until they passed through the arduous selection of selecting the best of the grain, the best of the flour, and the best of the herd and the flock when they realized that they had to give EVERYTHING they are for the Lord. We were tainted, but Someone had to come in for us!

Still, these offerings were a way for the priest to fellowship with his people. As the intermediaries of the Lord, the Levites weren’t given land as the other tribes. They depended on their Hebrew brothers for their daily bread. The grain offerings and the charity of fellowship also created a communion with their people. An atmosphere of peace was established, and everything had a common unity: A life shared for the living God.
Of course, things didn’t use to go that way; well, most of the time…

Bloodshed

Any Israelite or any alien living among them who eats any blood—I will set my face against that person who eats blood and will cut him off from his people. For the life of a creature is in the blood, and I have given it to you to make atonement for yourselves on the altar; it is the blood that makes atonement for one's life. (Leviticus 17:10-11, NIV)

In Christmas, or in any time of year, you will see morsillas –or the equivalent of a blood sausage- lurking around every corner.  I am a fan of food –and a lover of the TRUE meaning of Christmas-, but I’m not fond of eating coagulated blood in that way.  In further cultures, people drink blood as if it was fruit punch!  Or they mix it up a bit with food!  Or they bite someone’s neck! (Sorry, Twi-hards!)

I won’t be speaking of how horrible (or possibly yummy) blood can taste, or about blood transfusions and the Bible’s take on it.  I read this twice today, and it just so happens to catch my sight…

God was clear-cut in His prohibition of blood to the Israelites.  The pentalty?  Being cut off God’s sight-  excommunication- death.  If blood from sacrifices absolved the sinner, the priest, the musicians, the aliens, and the people as a whole, why should it be logically dissolved into our bodies?  All animal life runs by blood; if blood stops flowing through the body, the animal ceases to leave.  Who will be careless enough to transgress upon the blood of atonement?

(Go figure, this was one of the four recommendations given to the Gentiles as the result of the Council of Jerusalem-with no fornication, food sacrificed to idols, and strangled meats.)

There should be no waste upon the sacrifices.  As such, there should be no blood wasted upon such sacrifices.  God commanded every bit of blood for His Glory-isn’t He the giver and taker of life? 

That blood cleared up many, but it wouldn’t last…

(To be continued)

So We're Going Back (VII)

(Last part.  I wrote this on the last day of school, June 16th.)

So We’re going back. And I don’t’ know how many years will it take for me to go back. Call me an exagerao –or at least an idiot-, but there are many things that I wish to know. Maybe God is not willing for me to know about them. However, if I know how even the date of His return, then what is the point of expectation? If I know at these moments when will we return, life is going to stop for me. My focus wouldn’t be on God, but on the dates (like I’m doing right now). Well, there are some things that can’t be revealed to man.

What is left for me to say? Living in D.C. has been a pleasure (well, at least the outskirts!) to live in. I’m running out of options, and very few pages of my green notebook are left. All that’s left for me to do is to scream GOOOAL!!!! for every victory and UGH!!!! for every loss. Actually, I have one thing-no, many things to be thankful for.

I thank God for the experiences I had here in the United States.
I thank God for what I learned, what I’m learning, what I wish to learn, what I will learn, and what I don’t’ want to learn! (sic)
I thank an amazing God for my family and friends, the ones I have and the ones I made, witness of all things He has done in me, for me, and through me.
I thank God for the simple act of manipulating lines with a pencil, pen, or a colored pencil ;P.
I thank God for already handing me the victory.
I thank Him for my focus, even if it’s dismal and repetitive!
I thank my Devotion for restoring my life and my place in the Book of Life.
I thank my Savior for setting me free.
I thank my Healer for not caring about the gay-scandals, the lies and deceits, the hopes broken and the dreams shattered, and just taking me as I am.
I thank my Redeemer for the truth, the renewed hope, the remade dreams, and taking me as I am!
I thank God for letting me dance in the freedom I know.
I thank God for NationStates, the blog, the Commonwealth, the Dominion, and the quirky and zany things happening.
I thank God for the change that has rocked my world.

So we’re going back. And? I’m still reluctant. (Like if that was a surprise-no attitudes intended :P) But at least, my life is aligned to God’s will, and God’s will ONLY. I will rest, indeed, with the knowledge that He will return all what has died- and He will do this to the rest of us, too. If God wants us to stay, or if God wants us to leave, then we’re not so helpless to the iron. The chances were 50/50; now they seem 60/40. When my Master says, “Time to go”, it will be time to go. God will help me pack my bags, and I will wipe the snad of my feet. The sand is loosely built on a sole, and it leeds a little tug to get out.

I don’t know, but wiping off is harder than I expected.

So We're Going Back (IV)

(Again, I apologize.  Slight delays, but I’m ending soon…)

Can I go full-Gospel at you?  For He worries when I can’t cope, dream, or hope.  I hope that returning won’t etch a bigger storm on my pocket.  I wish that returning breaks me off of many bad habits, but it doesn’t erase my likes to blandness.  What if returning kick-starts all my biases and my fears, all my overlays, over again?  If the most abhorrent indecision overtakes me, where will I run up to?

This is the God I live for; the One I can’t see, but I feel; this is the One I must strive for perfection, the Same One I live for-yet, at times., I look to live for myself. *lowers countenance* But of course, this is the Same God who overtook that I was on the accursed tree and freed us from ourselves.  This is the Man of Sorrows, the Suffering Servant, the Alpha and the Omega, the God of Host, and the King of Glory.  He is the reason I write songs, the reason I write short devotions of my life –albeit, this is not that short! *nods* :P

On these lines, He is the only One with the authority to give things and take them away.  And even in the best of days, I want God to take away my mishaps and sins, my horrors and devolutions.  I wish that my thorns are plucked out violently with a tweezer-or it will get horribly infected, but wishing is not enough.  He doesn’t want idleness, but that’s what we humans are experts in.  if a *snaps fingers* could change things, we wouldn’t even thought of leaving in the first place!  Heck, we wouldn’t even be in America!

Government is a doozy.  University’s in trouble.  An oil spill is damaging. Oh, if a harpazo would take place!  I don’t want death, but I sure wish for all these irresolutions to end in the first place!  The limbo we live in is not too far from Heaven, but a bit closer to Hell!  I want out from the discrimination, all the murders, all the corruption, and all the pain.  I want out from the steps that we’re bound to take.  I don’t want people to yell at me (even if they’re not), but alas, such is life. 

So We're Going Back (V)

If I’m not mistaken, not all is lost. Am I putting up a front of reluctance, while I actually wanted to return subconsciously? (My friend Mauricio convicted me of this frequently.) Now that he’s in my train of thought, I draw memories of High Point, my American-school alma mater. Ever since landing here, I never wanted to move back, nor move someplace else. (For what is the reason of becoming a contemporary nomad?) While studying at a place where “ghetto” redefined itself, I forgot that our mission was for a year only. Fall passed, winter passed, spring passed, summer is passing. Ive see food fights and arrests, friends, madness, gogo, Christian rock and the inexpediencey of hall sweeps. Fasting three times a year is too much of chances; uniforms add to the inexpediencey of the school system (which I still adore); comparisons sweep more than ehte coherency of my words or the actions of my actions. For now, I can’t forget the hefty Southeast D.C. accents, half-and-halfs, clappas, and Spanish.

!No pude borrarlo todo de la mente de un cantazo!

As much as I want to erode the facts, they’re cristal clear: we’re leaving, and it’s final. I don’t want pointing fingers when I dance, nore scolding hands when I listen to “Better Than Drugs”, or “Quiero Que Me Hagas El Amor” on the radio. Leave me in peace if I like Reik, Camila, Evanescene or Secondhand Serenade. I don’t want to play the game- but I don’t’ need the tug-of-war of superficial. Let me dance in the freedom I know, please join me if you want to.

Yet I feel like David: a man with a heart similar to God’s, yet his unscrupulous flesh almost devoured him. With my thorns, I feel that I stab o the back fo God. Wait- if it’s not in his purpose, then why am I busy hunting down for my own darkness? I’m still afraid for setting a strange fire and getting killed down, yet I do that oh, so frequently. We play the game in our hearts (for God cannot be fooled, ever), and end up deceiving us only.

Damn passions! I wish they would cease from my body. So we’re leaving, yes, but what does this have to do with packing our bags? I do what I don’t have to do, but I don’t’ do what I have to do. Who’s bigger than my passions, myself, or God? What brings me to my knees and makes me realize I am fragile? Who brings me to my knees and makes me realize I am fragile? Yet, He’s not angry; He's not...

So We're Going Back (IV)

(I’m delayed, so I’ll do a double-post…)

I guess it’s a pride thing.  It’s the pride of knowing more than anyone (yet knowing nothing at all), or having more than anyone (yet having nothing at all).  Experiences, are subjective; then again, why do I fear returning back to Ceiba?  I don’t want to live a mundance, mediocre life. 

School is every day, Monday to Friday, from 8:00-3:00, occasionally leaving early, for the fun of it.

Church is every Tuesday, Thursday, sometimes Friday, and Sunday Morning (for fasting retreats) and Sunday afternoons.

Quinces, weddings, birthdays, outings, boxing matches, pinchos and visits were usually on Saturdays.

People come over for my anything, and for any given reason.

Papi returns to work from 9-4.

Mami cooks and goes out to do her things.

Class activities come up soon.

I don’t know what else.  Pueblo pequeño, infierno grande.  *nods*

So long Targets, Safeways, CVSs, Baja Fresh and Chipotle (which i’ve never visited).  Adios a FYE, Giant, and Marshall’s on PG Mall.  Nos vemos to corporate America and its headquarters; hello to Wal-Mart, Sam’s, La Gran Discoteca, Payless and the Christian bookstore in Ceiba.  Buenos días to friends, Burger King, colmados and dependence to nearby Fajardo.  I’ll give my “hi’s” to the two clinical labs and the numerous Pentecostal churches scarttered around town, and the two funeral homes in the Pueblo.  Maybe that house on the street that bears my name will return to be my home.  For the most, I may have unfinished business. 

Forgive me, God, if I’m not willing to jump because You say so.  Forgive me if I’m not willing to give You the gas pedal belowe the steering wheel.  Forgive me if I’m a slave of myself rather than Yours and Yours only…

So We're Going Back (III)

(This was written later than the rest of my musings. However, I have it in order of sequence…)

Sorry if I bore you again. I have to take this off my chest.

I’ve seen progress. For the first time, I could actually make a living out of life. For the first time I could choose what I wanted. There are many things that I’ve seen, and I don’t want to get off from it!

But we’ve hit a brick wall. We learned that the house we have lived in over twenty years-the same one I grew up in- was on its way to be sold. Damn focus! I wish we wouldn’t dream a lot. Now my parents are searching homes around there, rent and proximity to my old school preferably. My mom doesn’t drive, so she needs somewhere accessible to her needs, while my dad needs somewhere accessible to his lier! (And these lines are in contention, hehe)

Stupid security! From a place where I actually had to struggle, to a place where I know I’ll excel (and a grade where I don’t need to struggle). From a thousand choices fro the future to actually two or three close to you (where everyone goes, either-or kind of way) . From a place where nobody cares to a place where everyone has inherited rights to run your life with the greatest of intentions…if you let that happen. From a place where joking is common to a place where basilones stay forever…Honestly, it sucks.

I am selfish. It hurts my dad to see that he hasn’t w

orked for a year, and it hurts him more when I sigh out of distress. He can’t pay my education here, and he won’t waste nineteen years of experience on a place where layoffs and politicized work are the norm. My dad needs to take care of my grandma, and most of my family is back there. He’s given up much-everyone did-, but I still don’t know what have I given up. I don’t’ want to let go..I don’t want to go with the stupid flow…I don’t want to drop it…

And yet, God is calling. I’m afraid to see all this pocavergüenza going on, all this violence and terror. It’s not use to go to one’s porch, since no street is safe now. It’s pointless to go and see women get killed, teens get murdered or drugged, politicians are dragging us to hell, and a people grilled to indifference. If God is calling us back, what do we have to do then? There are no answers, there are not dates…Am I becoming like Jonah, unwilling to surrender to God’s will?

(To be continued…)

So We're Going Back (II)

Well, this is America: land of the free, and home of the brave.  The land where Lady Liberty bewitches everyone who passes through the Harbor.  This is where the President is working in our backyard, or the balseros risk their lives to reach the coast, or people fighting their way through a politicized immigration bill, or teabagging to Congress. This is where cars were made, capitalism is hailed, flights abound, variety remains, and everybody claims as their home.  This is the place where people don’t give a crap if you eat or drink, sleep or bathe, dress or clothe, or even masturbate!  But it you’re lucky, you’ll find people who take care if you eat or drink, sleep or bathe, dress or clothe, or even masturbate!

I am not willing to erode into family subjugation again.  Hall, I don’t even know if I’m going to the same church again!  What are the expectations they have?  Furthermore, what they didn’t’ expect from us?  What are the standards that they want us to conform again?  Rules were made, yes, but there are some that aren’t written on stones, Bibles, constitutions or civil codes or organized by-laws.  Some are needed, but another ones are just plain dumb!  I’m not in the mood to get “Mirandidized” at these moments.  ;)

America has opened my mind to many things that I thought appalling.  It’s OK to wear make-up, pants (although not too short!) and jewelry to church; it’s fine to dance at a party; it’s all right if you don’t speak in tongues at the end of a service, or if you stalk people to praise at a revival meet.  No reason is needed if you miss a Sunday, or if you wear pants one day.  Not everything ahs to be of the devil’s part (yet we must stay vigilant), but some are from our own troubles.  If you snap at someone, please be courteous and apologize, but remember you have emotions and they need, too, to be let out for a bit.

It’s perfectly understandable that I am slightly nervous upon returning.  It makes me feel that I’m interrupting the normal course of their lives again.  It makes me feel that I creep into something where I don’t’ being…or used to belong.  I feel that I need a system update, but does this include gossips, lies, cheatings, beatings and royal nastiness?  So we’re going back, it’s official; what are the costs?

(To be continued…)

So We're Going Back (I)

So we’re going back. It’s official now, yet discouraging. I have, indeed, written about the big U.S. of A., school, grades, music, boils, random life topics, politics, worship, dreams, goals, personal thoughts at the expense of my family, and more to come. I felt that this is my place: Maryland –and the rest of America- provided me with freedom, choices, chances and more opportunities than what I’d ever consider in Puerto Rico. I guess I was born (technically!) in the USA! (Noteworthy reference!)

Allow me to write with all the grammatical errors I could make. Allow me, please, to be public and candid on what I think, act, and believe. Allow me to choose my words, yet don’t let me be flaccid about this life. Just let me write, write, write…in peace.

In this land, I actually thought that I can make my own life away from the scandals, the family (which I still adore so much), the gossip, lies, trials and feuds that cripple a society. Yet we saw massacre, riot, power struggles, and death on our television screens. These things made me reluctant to go back on a plane to Puerto Rico. I wanted to stray out of the trouble and live my own life here…but it’s not gonna happen. I wanted to live recording my thoughts, ideas and sentiments, yet I am led by God’s thoughts, ideas and sentiments, not wanting to worry on who to please, what to please, and why to please (as appeasing as I unconsciously strive for). I want to stay because I love it there…but I wonder, maybe this is my sacrifice…

Everyone I n my family had to sacrifice some thing for this leap. Papi had to sacrifice four months without us, his job, and his family. Mami had to sacrifice the same, plus not having an extensive knowledge of English. Gorda had to sacrifice her friends, the university, and again, her family. Tío had to sacrifice being alone (which was his delight, however), his pocket money and a few inches of height. And I had to sacrifice my friends and family, my church, and my school. In here, however, Papi can’t find work, Mami can’t stand being enclosed on four wars and constantly cooking; Gorda can’t find work nore wheels; Tío doesn’t know if he’s getting discharged for his treatment (he wants to go to Florida ASAP); in my case, I seem to receive blessings. 

Are those the some things God wants me to sacrifice? In less than a year, I started school twice, I took two SAT’s, I had to classes in Spanish; I was inducted into the National Honors Society and I received a Business Achievement Award; I met people from across the globe; I was blessed with a different church experience; I saw all the seasons; I’ve grown to become a musical person, and where He is, there’s freedom ;)

How can I say “NO” to all the chances I’m getting here? Will I be willing to pass up all these blessings? Unfortunately, this is what I have to do. I can’t get a summer job, nor take the driving test until this whole birth certificate thing is sorted out. My Office Tech teacher told me about a job opportunity at the FedEx Center in Landover, Maryland, where the Redskins play (boo!). Alas, football season starts in August, so I was impelled (by my mother, I don’t blame her) to turn down the officer. In another case, APs could be an undone dream: my teacher gave me a packet version of the Human Geography book, yet working on it would be worth for nothing. If I’m here, I’ll work on it; If I go back, I’ll still work on it, to an extent.

(To be continued…)

Be Holy

I am the LORD who brought you up out of Egypt to be your God; therefore be holy, because I am holy. (Leviticus 11:45, NIV)

Ah, Jehovah Mekkedeshem-the LORD who sanctifies.  Holiness is something I’ve been hammered with; the only thing that it hasn’t happened is to be quizzed at it.

I was used of seeing skirts (no minis), not too much make-up, nor much jewelry or silicon bands (‘till a while ago)…until the plane hit.  Even before that, I was okay with “liberal” churches and their association on dress…yet, I am still reserved on many aspects.  I don’t have problems with dancing or rock or listening to music that’s not Christian (I still listen to Christian music though :P) or even with looking sorta “tirao” on occasion.  When I’m confronted with the command of being holy, though, I get a tug on my heart: something’s wrong!  (Or at the most, I’m making it wrong…)

I’m reading through Leviticus now, and it’s interesting to see how a systematic process for sacrifices and worship are weaved through and fro this misunderstood book.  I cringe a bit when holiness is intimated, though: does it mean that I have to stop myself from actually having a life?

Yes and No.  Yes, because we live for God now; we represent Him in any type of the world.  And no, because the light is never shuttered on an enclosed place.  He won’t let us live a house-work-church lifestyle without giving us an adventure along the way.  (People, don’t we have a life to live?)  Then again, this is what I always know (and I should take it by heart): Trust in God alone, and He will make the changes.

Can You Take It Out?

Although he did not remove the high places from Israel, Asa's heart was fully committed to the LORD all his life. (2 Chronicles 15:17, NIV)

I don’t get it. The sentence is a complex clause, with a subordinate clause and a simple sentence on there. Asa’s name means “Healer”, and that’s what he actually did: he healed Israel from their idol worship and their wickedness. And with all, they still didn’t take out the high places. Honestly, I don’t get it…

In the fifteenth chapter of 2 Chronicles, Asa is reforming the religious situation of Israel. (As always, whatever Israel did in their hearts for the Lord reflected on their progress as a nation. And in this case, they are divided now.) His heart was moved by God, wanting to remove all known spiritual blemish in his land. No more idols in Judah or Benjamin; no more faulty altars; no more half-hearted intents; no more bad influences (he removed his grandmother as queen mother and locked her up safely). And yet, the high places were still there.

It sorta sucks; though he –moved by the power of God in his heart- created a new revival in his nation, he fell through the cracks. He relied on strategic warfare instead of warfare; even while being warned by God through a prophet, he did not listen. He was stricken with a foot disease (we don’t know what it is), but he wouldn’t look to God. Something was wrong. Was it because he failed to remove ALL the high places? Or was it because of his shortcomings as a human?

I say it was both. And yet, his heart was right with God. How come? Was something in his flesh tied to pagan ways? Or was it the money and the effervescent need for a “safety quick-fix” instead of bending His knees to the Master? Something was wrong, yet his heart was right. 

There was a little prick of a high place somewhere inconceivable…Can You take it out?

You Can't Kill Me, Boy!

Here is a trustworthy saying: (2 Timothy 2:11-13, NIV)
If we died with him, we will also live with him…

My life in this planet will not last long.  Death will knock at my door sometime soon, maybe sooner than I expected.  My awards and recognitions, praises and glories, fears and progressions will become dust.  But Jesus is my anchor; I live in Him, and He lives in me.  Death will not kill me, nor will kill the purpose God has in me.

 If we endure, we will also reign with him.

Life is full of struggles, but only a few shall stand with their crowns of victory.  Like the game show, we need to have endurance to follow through this walk each day.  Only one answer will fully satisfy my hunger for balance and grace: Jesus I my Endurance.  He will guide my steps, even when I can’t see them-and yours, too.  Struggles will not kill me, nor will kill the purpose God has in me.

If we disown him, he will also disown us…

If Peter denied Christ three times before the rooster crowed, how much more will we be tempted to deny Him in the face of adversity?  Sometimes our silence, our actions, and our words guide us to reject –even unconsciously- God’s name.  THIS HURTS.   If we deny Him in this earth, He will deny us in Heaven.  And yet, His ever-forgiving hand is with us.  What’s the use of rejecting such beautiful day?  Denial will not kill me, nor will kill the purpose God has in me.

 If we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself. 

Ach, as much as we struggle with our passions and desires, we also struggle -I know that I do- in seeing God’s hand in my life.  If we still need some holy work on trusting God, may I remind you (and may I remind myself) that in Horeb, He did not reveal Himself in the wind, or the earthquake, or the fire, but in the still of His presence?  Faithlessnes, however, will kill me if I don’t do something with this.  But I believe in a God who won’t let me fall.  Not even faithlessness, nor the struggles surrounding it, will kill me nor the purpose God has in me.

Bottom line: You can’t kill me, boy!