Hunger

I am not hungry.  What I mean is, this morning, I surfed the Internet for rabbit rescue centers in the North Bay, and then found Glee covers that were supposedly better than the originals, and they were pretty good.  And I quickly read my portion of the morning revival, because something in me still wants to spend time with the Lord, but I am not hungry.  I feel like a distracted child, who is asking, “When will this be over?”  I don’t like mornings, and I seem to happily drift into whatever might instantly gratify me when I’m not so happy about being awake.  My iPhone.  I do feel like my smartphone is a large reason why I’m not that healthy (spiritually/physically/in general), but I am not looking to give it up so I’m not sure what to do there.

And it’s kind of discouraging.  It’s discouraging to come home from prayer meeting and really want to just check who is still remaining on The Voice (is it rigged?).  It’s discouraging to be counting down the minutes on the clock before I’m free.  It’s discouraging to know that I can spend hours upon hours on something, but when it comes to spiritual things, suddenly I have no energy.  And yeah, the disciples were like this, but that was PRE-resurrection.  So I have to wonder, I think I’m regenerated, so what’s up?

I’ve been proofreading lately, and one of the portions I proofread was about life. And about salvation.  And about how although doctrinally speaking regeneration and salvation are supposed to be one and the same, experientially it seems they are not.  And how someone can be saved but not regenerated, in the sense that they only avoid certain things because they feel the church tells them to.  But if someone is regenerated, they avoid doing things because inwardly they cannot, they feel unpleasant to do those things.  In those times I wonder to myself, what about me?  Have I made any progress, or is it all outward law?  Am I just doing things because that’s what I feel is expected of me?  It could be partially the OCD kicking in, as I do things like ask my husband “Am I regenerated?”  He says he can see God’s shepherding of me.  But sometimes I am doubtful.  Have I grown?  Will I ever grow?  Is something missing?  I have to admit, I do not love music the way I used to love music in high school, where my friends and I would literally be glued to our headphones between periods, and even in class if we could, and fall asleep to it, but I still love music to some degree.  And the Lord.  The Lord is invisible and inaudible.  Yet many experienced Him as the Spirit, in a more real way than the disciples did.  I’ve always loved this hymn by Watchman Nee.   I still would love to have the Lord actually sit here and answer my questions face to face, while munching a piece of fish, but I hope I (we) can know Him more “transparently.”

 

1 Oh, Jesus, Lord, when Thou on earth
Accompanied Thy faithful band,
It seemed they knew, but knew Thee not,
Thyself they did not understand.
2 They heard Thy voice, beheld Thy form,
Thy beauteous stature unforgot;
They crowded ‘round Thee, met Thy gaze,
But who Thou art, they knew it not.
3 As they of old we too are veiled;
We’ve known Thee long apparently;
Yet if we say we know, at best
We know Thee not transparently.
4 But as the Spirit now Thou art,
Another Comforter become;
Reveal Thyself within my heart,
Since to Thy temple Thou hast come.
5 With Thy blest Spirit, Lord, fill me,
Fill every corner of my soul;
May Thou inspire my every part,
Oh may Thou touch, renew the whole.
6 The Spirit then revealing make
Thyself more real within my heart,
That ear not hear, nor eye may see
How very real to me Thou art.
7 When Thou in mercy dost reveal
And give Thyself as Spirit thus,
What in the world can be more real,
More true than what Thou art to us?
8 Thy Spirit, Lord, in mine, I pray,
O’erflow my being as a flood,
That every part with glory shine
And everywhere be Thee and God.
9 How close we are in such a life,
In one is blended earth with heav’n;
Thy presence sweetly fills our souls;
Our hearts are to Thy praises giv’n.

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Weddings and Funerals

I love watching Youtube videos of couples talking about their stories, but only the good ones.  It means I have to watch a couple bad ones before I get to the good ones though.

Like this, is so cute.  It’s like when I go to a wedding, and it reminds me again of the beginning.  Also I really appreciated what an older brother spoke to the teenage sisters about relationships. Either our phones can use us, or we can use our phones. Then he slipped it in there, and it was so matter of fact, not scary, but honest, measured, and appropriate.  In so many words, he encouraged them to not get into a relationship at this time. Then went on to say, people are selfish, and may use you.

Yesterday, I went to a memorial for a dear brother who passed away.  I didn’t know him personally, but I went to play the piano.  It was really precious.  Someone once said (is it in the Bible somewhere?) that funerals are better than weddings.  And I could also see why.  There was celebration of the life that he lived, and so many good stories that really were an encouragement to everyone I think.  Stories of how the church fasted and prayed the first time he was diagnosed with a serious illness, and how he came back home, and was their Lazarus to them, a picture of the resurrection life.  Stories of how his housemate picked him up out of bed to have morning watch, cause he told him the night before to wake him up no matter what he said.  Stories of his one-liner quips and humorous antics as a child.  I felt like even though I didn’t know him, I was blessed by his life through all the testimonies.

Anyway, laundry calls.

Loneliness and Insecurity

There’s a weird feeling I have at the moment, and it’s called loneliness and insecurity.  It means I want to talk and make a friend, but I’m insecure/anxious about how the conversation would go and whether it would be a positive overall interaction or a negative one.

As an HSP, apparently I go out of my way to avoid uncomfortable situations, so you can guess where that leaves me.  I guess I’ve kind of forgotten about my HSP-ness, except today, I noticed one of my friends on Facebook, an acquaintance, rather, had changed her last name back to her maiden name.  That’s never a good sign when you know they are (were?) married.  It’s really disheartening and while one shouldn’t jump to conclusions, I thought back to the research I read a long time ago about how neuroticism is the number one personality predictor of an unhappy marriage, in so many words.  I think HSP-ness and neuroticism pretty much overlap quite a bit.  So I made my hubby take the HSP test.  He’s not an HSP (no surprise at all there).  I think when I make my hubby take tests like these and listen to his responses, I realize how much I assume everyone around me must think the way I think, or feel the way I feel in response to things, and how strange it is to find out that they don’t.  You mean loud noises don’t really bother you?!  You mean you’re not bothered by coarse fabrics?  You don’t get nervous when someone is watching you do something?  You must be an alien!  Except no, the alien, folks, is me.  Just kidding.  We are 20% of the population, so not so alien after all.  But the point is, something about us, oh, maybe the way we are so very moody, makes it difficult for people to live very very closely to us, which marriage is.  Anyhow, as you can probably guess, this doesn’t make me feel too good about myself.  So it’s been awhile since I’ve thought about these personality things.  Thankfully, it is the Lord who brought me to my husband, and my husband to me.  His ways really are higher than our ways.  My thoughts are kind of all over the place on this.  I guess I just feel bummed when things aren’t working out for people and of course I can’t have any way of knowing what is actually going on, so how can I say anything?  It’s all very confusing.  Years and years have passed and so much change, too.

I think that’s what ties all of these thoughts together.  Change.  I don’t like change.  Since I’m back home, I’ve realized a lot of folks are probably still around, but I don’t know if they would want to talk to me.  There’s always the past, the connections to this person or that person, and then there’s this huge gap of time, and by now, I have no clue what to think or what they think, or if they even think.  I want to connect with people, but I have no words.  Or maybe they’re busy.  Or maybe I’m busy.  I would be okay, except see the reason I’m writing this is that I spent too long scrolling through a NewsFeed, reading just that.  News.  News about people, when all I really want is to actually sit down and talk to them, except I also don’t want that as well.  Because what if they don’t open?  That feeling when you can’t seem to get through feels even lonelier, somehow.  Why do things change?  So we left our old community behind, but I am forming a new community here, and it will take time.

I feel there is a new stage of life ahead of me.  The leaves are growing a radiant reddish hue and life is morphing as well.  It seems as I grow older, family becomes more and more primary, and more of them actually need your care, or is it that I actually notice and care about someone other than myself.  I will be 29 in a few weeks.  Throughout most of my life, I haven’t felt my age.  I’ve always felt younger than I actually was.  Today though, my age feels very real to me.

Epigenetics

Whoa!  I didn’t know this field existed.  Pretty cool.  Now it makes even more sense to feel it’s important to understand your family history.  These days, or maybe it’s our generation, but we don’t seem to value our elders that much.  Their stories and what they have gone through though may have more impact on our own lives than we know.

 

Old and Stale

My question to my mom before I got married was, “How do we stay fresh?”.  My main fear was becoming old and stale.  It was inevitable, wasn’t it?  Everything in the old creation gradually becomes old, stale, and dies.  The beautiful flowers eventually wither and fall.  My car puts on miles and scratches day after day.  Our clothes grow weary.  Was there any secret?  I didn’t know.  I still don’t know.  But I like the name of this site–Happy Wives Club.  Pretty cute.

So I’ll leave you with a quote from Fawn, since she’s been doing more research on the subject than me– “The best time to love with your whole heart is always now, in this moment, because no breath beyond the current is promised.”

There you have it.  Isn’t so much of the advice in our lives focused on the now?

Emojis! =)

When I was not yet going out with now Hubby, we did not talk much.  However, there were some incidents here and there leading up to our courtship that we do remember fondly.  Now that we are married, I ask him to tell me those stories over and over again.

One of them involves an emoji.  We were going over to a family’s house for lunch, and I happened to be grabbing potato salad for the event.  I was running late.  A certain boy was busy barbecuing in the backyard and texted me to say something like “Take your time.  We’ll save food for you =)”.  I remember getting that text while I was on the way to the store with someone I can’t remember who, and smiling to myself.  “How nice!” I thought.  But I also had another thought cross my mind, “He used a smiley face.  That’s interesting… he’s never done that before.  I wonder if he likes me?  But he could be just a nice person.  Hm.  Whatever!”  When I got to the house, I went to say hi to the boys barbecuing.  Hubby remembers that hello very clearly.  I guess it was the first time I actually came to say hi to him?  So there you have it.  The moral of the story is, be careful about sending emojis, guys.  Unless of course if that’s what you’re going for, then send away!

Summer is almost here, and the teachers and students are all counting the days.  I myself have some projects I want to work on, including finishing Marie Kondo’s book about tidying up and cleaning out the mess that is my closet.  I’ve been looking into different options for my old clothes, from donating to selling both locally and online.  Sometimes I get lost in the research and information out there.  It is the same for cooking.  There are just so many recipes to try, and not enough time in life to get through all of them!  I don’t know if it’s because I’m 27 now, but time seems awfully short.  The amount of things I could possibly learn is endless, never mind the things I could do.  I also have a little bit of an itch to bake.  My KitchenAid mixer is sitting somewhere in our kitchen all by itself.  It might just be time to bring it out, now that we’ve finally adjusted the height!  But really, where are my priorities?  Often I feel I am spread thin in my head.  So I curl up into a ball and watch the latest YouTube videos or check on my Neko Atsume cats.  Let me just close my eyes, and sleep.

Eating out less

Today’s dinner was a messy conglomeration of half defrosted chicken that baked in the oven for so long and was still pink (but safe to eat, we found out) and salad.  There was rice too, but we forgot about it.  Life has been tricky in the cooking department.  Meal planning is still not my forte,  I mean, preference.  I mean I think about meal planning, and I just don’t want to do it.  The idea of making food that I possibly wanted to eat a few days ago but may not want to eat the day of seems miserable.  Is it more miserable than finding out we spent too much money on pho and In-N-Out because we didn’t feel like eating dumplings that night, and there was nothing planned?  I’m not sure.

I haven’t balanced last month’s money ins and outs yet.  Being grown up is hard sometimes.  As a teen, I hoped to be grown up by 18.  But when 18 rolled around, I felt quite juvenile.  Now, I’m a lot older than 18, and if I consider my age and what I thought I would accomplish by now for too long, well, it can be discouraging.  Often times, I look for inspiration to start something new.  Guidance of some sort.  Tips, rules, someone’s past experiences and knowledge, anything I can hang onto.  It’s nice that we live in the age of Internet now, where so much information is readily available.  But I think for me, sometimes it results in analysis paralysis and a perfectionism that might not have been as common in a world less connected.

I’m pooped.  Goodnight.