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(no subject) [Nov. 29th, 2005|12:02 am]
asdf
I love my dad.

I love everyone equally, but, as my brilliant dad puts it, "sometimes we just love certain people more equally than we love others."
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(no subject) [Nov. 11th, 2005|04:45 pm]
asdf
I close my eyes
And I see Your face
If home is where my heart is
Then I’m out of place
Lord won’t you give me strength
To make it through somehow
I’ve never been more homesick than now.

That's my secret song with God. That's the song I sing when no one can understand what's going on inside my heart. Even though I'm sharing it here, it's still a secret. Because no one can understand what's going on inside my heart.

Home's not in Fremont. Home's not in San Diego. Home's not at church, with family, with boyfriend, with friends. Home is a room with just me and God. Homesick.
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(no subject) [Nov. 7th, 2005|11:46 pm]
asdf
I swear, if I couldn't sing, I don't think half as many people in college would bother talking to me. Kind of depressing. It kind of makes me wanna laugh and cry at the same time. Kind of like that time in PE when I pulled up my jeans really quickly and ended up tearing the beltloop out because I couldn't get them pass my mountainous butt. It's just one of those dilemmas where you're not sure if that really sucks, or if that really sucks, but you might as well laugh and live on.
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I have onion breath from today's tuna sandwich. Mmm. I love Summit sandwiches. [Oct. 31st, 2005|04:10 pm]
asdf
Hmm, personal update. (By the way, I'm planning on sticking with livejournal. I'm already in the process of private-locking my entries prior to college, and I'm posting publicly from now on.)

I got the job! Last week I interviewed for the UCSD Student Safety Awareness & Sexual Assault Resource Center. Yes. I hate telling people where I [am going to] work because the title is so long.

The job description is primarily clerical work, customer service, representative at certain events, etc. But the twist is that I actually partake in awareness workshops and such. Obviously, I don't counsel or get involved with cases, but people call me and share why they've contacted this service (reasons such as "I think my friend got raped"). So this position required knowledge of rape and sexual assault. The funny thing was the interview was almost a mini-quiz on such areas and how one would approach these cases. I pretty much answered however I felt my mom would respond to certain situations. Thank you, mom, for holding counseling sessions in our living room ever since I was born. Not that I listened to any of them...

Pretty cool first job, I'd say. Better than working at Cafe Ventannas or the bookstore (where I should've worked as student without prior work experience), in terms of pay, job description, and life experience.

The first round of midterms have passed. I took four midterms in the same week. But fortunately, they weren't too bad. Overall, I'm quite pleased with how they turned out, since usually my first round of tests in new classes is really poor. Life is good as a non-math/science major. It's almost the time of season to register for winter courses, so I think I'll be paying the academic advising a visit soon. I want to decide whether I want to double-major in music or music humanities.

Today is Halloween, but I think I'll stay in my room and study. I was going to downtown La Jolla for some candy because supposedly them rich folk give out king size Twix and dollar bills. But Halloween hurts my teeth, my stomach, and eyes (some costumes are really...gross). Still, there are many exciting events coming up: IV frosh retreat, DOTs first concert, and going home for Thanksgiving! I shall depart with the whole two pictures I took at the Harvest Fall retreat this past weekend.




It's good to have this kid at college with me.
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(no subject) [Oct. 27th, 2005|12:23 pm]
asdf
I've never felt so vulnerable in my life.

I guess that's what brokeness entails.

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefor I will wait for Him." Lamentations 3:23-24

So weak, to be made strong.
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Pre-mature Career Thoughts [Oct. 26th, 2005|07:44 pm]
asdf
The communications major is not about academics and GPA, really. It's about the business world, really.

It's a dirty rat-race that involves self-promotion, constant competition, selfish relationships, and vigorous networking. It's about preaching a message that you probably don't believe but knowing how to make others believe it. It's telling people that what they have in their homes, the way they think, the way they look, and the type of entertainment they enjoy are not as good as what you have to offer. It's a message of dissatisfaction, deception, and capitalism (darn, almost had aliteration going on there).

Unfortunately, it's what I'm attracted to and what God's gifted me in.

I believe that in whatever career option you choose, you can use it to the glory of God.

My question, though, is, how in the bloody heck?

Is it possible to be involved with the media, or the marketing & advertisement business, and have the fruit of your work be millions exclaiming, "Ah. God is good,"?

"Get into the music industry." Ah, my dream. To create, promote, sell, whatever. But honestly here, people love Switchfoot because they love Switchfoot, not because they love God. Sell my own voice and face? No matter how pure you are, that is probably the best career option if you want to struggle with pride for the rest of your life.

"Just work at a non-profit Christian organization." And market God?

There has to be a way to reach the masses about the good news of God besides preaching and without marketing Him like a product. There must be a pure way to utilize the talents God has given a comm major to glorify Him.

Sitting through the undergrad comm society (UCS) meeting was interesting. While the speaker was rambling about all the ways she got connections and networks and internships and oppurtunities, I sat there wondering, "I know I can do this. I have what it takes to get to the top of this race. But why would I?"

I emailed KLOVE radio. I asked how they did it.
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Time is too short for you to be egotistic. [Oct. 25th, 2005|04:28 pm]
asdf
[Current Mood |Broken]

I swung by my mailbox after class today and was graced with another issue of TIME. I quickly flipped open to a random page, where I was met with a photo (p 51). A coast guard had snatched an elderly African-American couple off their roof. The old lady almost looked dead, as if she had been rotting in water for weeks, just waiting. Maybe not even waiting to be rescued, but instead, to die.

I don't know why suddenly my heart has grown so sensitive to such issues. Maybe it's because I've realized just how violently they grieve God's heart. But I barely made it back to my room before my eyes were hot and stinging with tears.

We feel we should remain callous to the broken aspect of our world because there's nothing we can do about it. BUT WE'VE BEEN COMMANDED TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

Fortunately, I've been without excuse to give. The Muslim student association at UCSD is doing a fast during Ramadan where a company offered to donate money for every student who signs up to fast for 12 hours. The money would be donated to some sort of international poverty organization. I don't care that another "religion" is sponsoring the cause; the cause itself is beautiful and I'd be selfish if I passed it up. Someone God loves and watches 24/7 will have something worth smiling over, Something worth hoping for if I just sacrificed a sandwich.

While I was eating at The Summit (Muir college's eatery, my favorite), students offered an oppurtunity for me to help out with the victims of Katrina who've landed at San Diego. Do I have to pull out nonexisting cash from my pocket? Am I to spend a embracing each victim and offer them sleeping space in my dorm? While all of those would be good ideas, all the girls asked for was my ID number, and 10 meal points. The loss was barely visible, yet I helped someone have a meal.

I see, now, that I am without excuse to donate and help. And unlike how I was before, giving isn't even a sacrifice anymore. I've begun to realize more and more that all that I have isn't even mine. I don't OWN my possesions. To give my life to God simply means to recognize that He has full rights to give and take away anything He wills. My money is not my own, my time is not my own--even the breath that I'm breathing belongs to Him.

In giving, I'm really just returning.

During IV fellowship last week, I heard something that I don't think I could ever forget. The speaker said that if every Christian in the world were to tithe (which is to give 10% of your income) towards feeding those who are hungry, WORLD POVERTY WOULD BE ABSOLVED. The crazy part is that tithing isn't a suggestion in the bible--that's offering. TITHING is what we're SUPPOSED to ALREADY be giving if we're followers of God's word.

And last night in justice bible study, I learned that the reason why God's blessed us is so that we could bless others. This made me infuriated with America, with the church, and with myself. Why don't we give? Is it really because we are really THAT CONCERNED that the homeless man will buy crack instead of a sandwich? Is it really because you're afraid you won't have enough to eat? NO. It's because we don't trust God when He says, I WILL PROVIDE. BUT IF I PROVIDE, WILL YOU?"

We don't need anymore gigantic mega churches with basketball courts and a cafe with a wireless internet. We DON'T HAVE enough TIME to be investing in BBQs and CONCERTS and CDS.

When are we going to start investing in God's kingdom? Time is not unlimited. It just starts with us realizing that we are not our own.
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For where two or more gather... [Oct. 11th, 2005|02:38 pm]
asdf
My suitemate next door is a Jesus freak too. We pray together every Tuesday afternoon now. There's something so earth-shaking about two meek girls in a dorm room praying for this generation. Something so enormous seems to happen when a servant silently calls on the name of the Living King.
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