Karen made me promise her that I wouldn't get engaged or married in the next 6 months.
I don't think that'll be too difficult.
December 31, 2001
December 30, 2001
Mary is my hero forever.
My attraction to the idea of heroes started with this sentence. I've come to use the word "hero" rather casually in the last few years. When I need a favor, I'll say something to the effect of "Wanna be my hero and [favor]?" Or to thank someone for doing me a favor, I say things like "You are my hero forever."
Ultimately, though, I am captivated by the idea of heroes and heroism. Most often, we connect the idea of heroes with the conecpt of rescue. Superheroes save helpless citizens from the evil powers that be. We saw heroes emerge on 9/11; they were people that were willing to risk their lives to rescue others.
From some source...i'll find it later:
he·ro
n. pl. he·roes
1. In mythology and legend, a man, often of divine ancestry, who is endowed with great courage and strength, celebrated for his bold exploits, and favored by the gods.
2. A person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially one who has risked or sacrificed his or her life: soldiers and nurses who were heroes in an unpopular war.
3. A person noted for special achievement in a particular field: the heroes of medicine
The word hero is Greek, from a root that means "to protect and to serve".
A Hero is someone who is willing to sacrifice his own needs on behalf of others, like a shepherd who will sacrifice to protect and serve his flock. At the root of the idea of Hero is connected with self-sacrifice.
There are several words I associate with the idea of heroism: virtuous, committed, and humble. Heroes look to meet the needs of others, needs that cannot be met by the efforts of those in need. The Friday after 9/11, the major TV networks gave up millions of dollars of revenue to air "A Tribute to Heroes." Intermixed with all the musical tributes were little vignettes describing the different heroes that arose on 9/11. The naming of heroes became a source of comfort for a mourning country. It brought elements of humanity into a cruel, inhumane act of violence. But was that it?
From a Christian perspective, how are we to respond to a celebration of heroes? A hero who seeks the glory of being a hero is no hero at all. Haha..that sounds like a fortune cookie statement. But this is why humility is so integral in the character of someone I would consider heroic. If we celebrate heroes without giving praise to God, then we are glorifying man.
But what about the everyday hereos? The unsung heroes who are working day-in day-out to improve the conditions of the poor, thee helpless, and the lost? Why are people only called heroes after they die? The idea of self-sacrifice is at the root of the idea of heroes. But does only loss of life equate with self-sacrifice? To the media, it does. Now, I'm not going to get into a scathing diatribe on American media. In acts of kindness, generosity, service, and compassion, we all have the qualities of heroes. We are capable of doing heroic acts. But, to be a hero...
A friend has gotten me to read comic books lately as I've been thinking about this idea of heroes. I've never read comic books untill now. (brief SN: I'm really impressed with comic books. They are quality reading and art!) One thing I've been struck by is the humanness of the heroes. When I was little, my dad took me to see all four of the superman movies in the theater. I don't remember much about Clark Kent, but I remembered a lot about Superman. In the comic books (both Superman and others), the human character development has been phenomenal. I was really struck by one story in which the superhero at the end takes off his mask to reveal his face to the boy he is rescuing. He allows the boy to touch his face and to have an intimate human interaction with him. Heroes are people, people around us.
We are called as believers to be diligent, to lead a quiet life, and to work with our hands. Most people who I would consider to be heroes are heroes not because they have done something glamarous or risky once in their lives, but because they labor faithfully and quietly. They are self-sacrificing with their time, energy, and thoughts. The heroic people I have met have no strived to be heroes. They just were. It's interesting, though, that as I notice heroic acts around me, I've started to see less of the "hero" and more of Christ. And that is a blessing.
I hope my future husband is one of those quiet hero types. But that's neither here nor there.
My attraction to the idea of heroes started with this sentence. I've come to use the word "hero" rather casually in the last few years. When I need a favor, I'll say something to the effect of "Wanna be my hero and [favor]?" Or to thank someone for doing me a favor, I say things like "You are my hero forever."
Ultimately, though, I am captivated by the idea of heroes and heroism. Most often, we connect the idea of heroes with the conecpt of rescue. Superheroes save helpless citizens from the evil powers that be. We saw heroes emerge on 9/11; they were people that were willing to risk their lives to rescue others.
From some source...i'll find it later:
he·ro
n. pl. he·roes
1. In mythology and legend, a man, often of divine ancestry, who is endowed with great courage and strength, celebrated for his bold exploits, and favored by the gods.
2. A person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially one who has risked or sacrificed his or her life: soldiers and nurses who were heroes in an unpopular war.
3. A person noted for special achievement in a particular field: the heroes of medicine
The word hero is Greek, from a root that means "to protect and to serve".
A Hero is someone who is willing to sacrifice his own needs on behalf of others, like a shepherd who will sacrifice to protect and serve his flock. At the root of the idea of Hero is connected with self-sacrifice.
There are several words I associate with the idea of heroism: virtuous, committed, and humble. Heroes look to meet the needs of others, needs that cannot be met by the efforts of those in need. The Friday after 9/11, the major TV networks gave up millions of dollars of revenue to air "A Tribute to Heroes." Intermixed with all the musical tributes were little vignettes describing the different heroes that arose on 9/11. The naming of heroes became a source of comfort for a mourning country. It brought elements of humanity into a cruel, inhumane act of violence. But was that it?
From a Christian perspective, how are we to respond to a celebration of heroes? A hero who seeks the glory of being a hero is no hero at all. Haha..that sounds like a fortune cookie statement. But this is why humility is so integral in the character of someone I would consider heroic. If we celebrate heroes without giving praise to God, then we are glorifying man.
But what about the everyday hereos? The unsung heroes who are working day-in day-out to improve the conditions of the poor, thee helpless, and the lost? Why are people only called heroes after they die? The idea of self-sacrifice is at the root of the idea of heroes. But does only loss of life equate with self-sacrifice? To the media, it does. Now, I'm not going to get into a scathing diatribe on American media. In acts of kindness, generosity, service, and compassion, we all have the qualities of heroes. We are capable of doing heroic acts. But, to be a hero...
A friend has gotten me to read comic books lately as I've been thinking about this idea of heroes. I've never read comic books untill now. (brief SN: I'm really impressed with comic books. They are quality reading and art!) One thing I've been struck by is the humanness of the heroes. When I was little, my dad took me to see all four of the superman movies in the theater. I don't remember much about Clark Kent, but I remembered a lot about Superman. In the comic books (both Superman and others), the human character development has been phenomenal. I was really struck by one story in which the superhero at the end takes off his mask to reveal his face to the boy he is rescuing. He allows the boy to touch his face and to have an intimate human interaction with him. Heroes are people, people around us.
We are called as believers to be diligent, to lead a quiet life, and to work with our hands. Most people who I would consider to be heroes are heroes not because they have done something glamarous or risky once in their lives, but because they labor faithfully and quietly. They are self-sacrificing with their time, energy, and thoughts. The heroic people I have met have no strived to be heroes. They just were. It's interesting, though, that as I notice heroic acts around me, I've started to see less of the "hero" and more of Christ. And that is a blessing.
I hope my future husband is one of those quiet hero types. But that's neither here nor there.
December 24, 2001
Merry Christmas! We are celebrating the birth of Christ, an event that changed the world forever. I just felt the need to say that. It's so easy to forget why we celebrate Christmas.
As difficult and trying as the past few days have been, I'm really grateful for the opportunity to be home again. My little cousin, William, got baptized yesterday. Praise God!! It was really exciting! He used all these big words like "ephemeral," "pompous," and "entrenched." He's 16 and studying for the SATs. After the baptism, my family and my cousins' family went out with my grandmother to lunch. This is the first time that we've all gone out to eat since my uncle and grandfather passed away. It was really nice to just be together. We all made fun of William for his use of big words. I also took my sister out for her 2nd driving lesson today. It was a great bonding experience. She's a pretty good driver (well, she only hit 35 mph max).
On an unrelated note, I really admire people who are long-suffering. It's such a virtue. People who are willing to stand tall and strong in the face of adversity. It's one thing to be bold one time when confronted with opposition. It's a completely separate quality to face difficulty with strength and courage over and over again. I see long-suffering (noun) as the convergence of courage, strength, and perseverence. I know people who have been faced with rejection and citicism yet continue to hold fast to ideas, passions, and goals that might make them unpopular.
I don't think I'm very long-suffering. I think I can be pretty bold. Janet says that I really like to say "bring it" to God when He starts throwing curve balls. But, after the initial courageousness fades, I'm a wuss. I'd rather run away. My ex used to tell me how good I was at deluding myself. Denial. Yeah, that's real healthy. Haha. I tend to more of a visionary. I'm really drawn to opportunities to create new programs or meet needs in a fresh, innovative way. I tend to run on the excitement for a while. But, once that excitement fades, I tend to run out of steam.
I've been learning to pray earnestly. In doing so, God has showed me not to be so reactionary. Rather than immediately responding to an idea, the challenge is for me to pray through it patiently. I like praying. It's neat to see God change me through prayer. It's so cool to see God answer prayers not in my plans but in His perfect plan. I miss praying with friends, though. Ok, this is a mess...
Merry Christmas!!
As difficult and trying as the past few days have been, I'm really grateful for the opportunity to be home again. My little cousin, William, got baptized yesterday. Praise God!! It was really exciting! He used all these big words like "ephemeral," "pompous," and "entrenched." He's 16 and studying for the SATs. After the baptism, my family and my cousins' family went out with my grandmother to lunch. This is the first time that we've all gone out to eat since my uncle and grandfather passed away. It was really nice to just be together. We all made fun of William for his use of big words. I also took my sister out for her 2nd driving lesson today. It was a great bonding experience. She's a pretty good driver (well, she only hit 35 mph max).
On an unrelated note, I really admire people who are long-suffering. It's such a virtue. People who are willing to stand tall and strong in the face of adversity. It's one thing to be bold one time when confronted with opposition. It's a completely separate quality to face difficulty with strength and courage over and over again. I see long-suffering (noun) as the convergence of courage, strength, and perseverence. I know people who have been faced with rejection and citicism yet continue to hold fast to ideas, passions, and goals that might make them unpopular.
I don't think I'm very long-suffering. I think I can be pretty bold. Janet says that I really like to say "bring it" to God when He starts throwing curve balls. But, after the initial courageousness fades, I'm a wuss. I'd rather run away. My ex used to tell me how good I was at deluding myself. Denial. Yeah, that's real healthy. Haha. I tend to more of a visionary. I'm really drawn to opportunities to create new programs or meet needs in a fresh, innovative way. I tend to run on the excitement for a while. But, once that excitement fades, I tend to run out of steam.
I've been learning to pray earnestly. In doing so, God has showed me not to be so reactionary. Rather than immediately responding to an idea, the challenge is for me to pray through it patiently. I like praying. It's neat to see God change me through prayer. It's so cool to see God answer prayers not in my plans but in His perfect plan. I miss praying with friends, though. Ok, this is a mess...
Merry Christmas!!
December 20, 2001
I've bought a total of 4 Christmas gifts. Christmas is only 5 days away. I have not written a single card. I don't even own any Christmas cards. That's a problem. I was planning on mailling a ton out. I won't have time tonight. Is it worth even trying? Should I just make an effort to write more later? Hmm...where have the past 3 weeks gone? Oh yeah, in a box. I probably packed it all away with all my other stuff. Haha. The end is in sight. Kind of.
Last night was our last night in Berkeley. Tonight, we sleep in Oakland. Kinda bittersweet.
Last night was our last night in Berkeley. Tonight, we sleep in Oakland. Kinda bittersweet.
December 19, 2001
We're almost done moving. I think we'll be sleeping in Oakland by the end of the week. Yay! Chanthip and I spent an hour and a half putting together my desk yesterday. We were exhausted. I still have yet to pack up all my clothes. For those of you who know me well, you know that I own A LOT of clothes. I need to go and figure out what I'm gonna donate first. Anyhow, I did not mean to write about my clothes.
I'm gonna reminisce about random memories of living in #306 Royston House for the past three years. This may not be interesting to you, the reader. Oh well, you'll get over it. If you don't wanna read this, go play Wordracer or Graffiti. Haha.
A little trip down memory lane in no particular order:
- I went into Chanthip's room almost every Sunday night around 1am. I would plop on her bed while she sat at her computer and I'd say, "I don't wan to go to sleep. The sooner I sleep, the sooner Monday comes." To which she would always reply, "Ev, tomorrow will come no matter what you do. If you don't sleep, tomorrow will still be here in 7 hours, but you'll be tired and grumpy." Every Sunday.
- The first night I stayed in the apartment, Chanthip hadn't moved in yet. I was alone, and it was cold. It was also storming that night. Suddenly, I heard dripping noises. Our apartment was leaking. It wasn't just the roof, it was the ENTIRE apartment. We had water dripping from a crack the length of our kitchen. The hood over our stove was dripping. Water was coming in from the windows in every room. Our bathroom was leaking. There was even water coming in from that non-functional intercom in our doorway. What a nerve-racking experience.
- Allen used to get us to buy cases and cases of Lipton Iced Tea (the canned stuff). People would always drink it when they came over. We would have piles upon piles of recycling to take down every week.
- Janet, Jason Kuo, Jason Yip, and I would study every Saturday and Wednesday at our kitchen table. JKuo would randomly get up from studying, walk to the couch, and just fall backward on it. We were always afraid he'd fall asleep.
- Summer '99: Bev, Allen, JYip, and I would cook dinner together Sunday nights. We'd then proceed to watch some really bad movie. Why was it that every movie we watched was really bad?? We snuck up onto the roof of the building one night at like 3am. We sat and talked. After a while, we all lied down so nobody on the street could see us. When we heard voices down below from the street, we started making weird animal noises (barking, purring, hissing, mooing).
- Janet sleeping over almost every weekend her senior year. We'd talk till 4am even though we just spent the entire day together. Then, we'd realize that we had to get up for church in 4 hours.
- The HMAP coordinators planning both semesters' retreats at my place the night before the retreat. Learning the *NSync "It's Gonna Be Me" dance in my living room by watching a tape of the video on "slow play" mode.
- Jamming with JKuo, JYip, Janet, and Sam till 5 am. Didn't we go to the city for dinner and get back around midnight? Then Sam appeared. I don't remember where he came from or why he was there. But, that was fun. I think that was actually the only time that I got to jam w/ the Jason's and Janet as well.
- SFC Senior-Freshman dinner. "So, who do YOU like?"
- Lots of boys playing lots of video games.
- Off-campus women's small group, prayer meetings, discipleship.
Ok, enough of this. I know that I have definitely been blessed by the opportunity to live in Royston all these years. It was like living in a big dorm. My best friends from high school lived next door. Jason, Dean, Elaine, Ben Tao, and Andy all lived there too. Jason and I were talking about how the entire "1st generation" of Royston has moved out. Well, all but Andy, living the BZ lifestyle. Haha.
I am grateful that Uncle Jeff (the landlord and my old Sunday School teacher) offered us a very reasonable rent for 3 years. I really think that God has used our apartment to bless many people, including myself.
Anyhow. Heroes. It's coming...it's not all that exciting, but it's coming.
I'm gonna reminisce about random memories of living in #306 Royston House for the past three years. This may not be interesting to you, the reader. Oh well, you'll get over it. If you don't wanna read this, go play Wordracer or Graffiti. Haha.
A little trip down memory lane in no particular order:
- I went into Chanthip's room almost every Sunday night around 1am. I would plop on her bed while she sat at her computer and I'd say, "I don't wan to go to sleep. The sooner I sleep, the sooner Monday comes." To which she would always reply, "Ev, tomorrow will come no matter what you do. If you don't sleep, tomorrow will still be here in 7 hours, but you'll be tired and grumpy." Every Sunday.
- The first night I stayed in the apartment, Chanthip hadn't moved in yet. I was alone, and it was cold. It was also storming that night. Suddenly, I heard dripping noises. Our apartment was leaking. It wasn't just the roof, it was the ENTIRE apartment. We had water dripping from a crack the length of our kitchen. The hood over our stove was dripping. Water was coming in from the windows in every room. Our bathroom was leaking. There was even water coming in from that non-functional intercom in our doorway. What a nerve-racking experience.
- Allen used to get us to buy cases and cases of Lipton Iced Tea (the canned stuff). People would always drink it when they came over. We would have piles upon piles of recycling to take down every week.
- Janet, Jason Kuo, Jason Yip, and I would study every Saturday and Wednesday at our kitchen table. JKuo would randomly get up from studying, walk to the couch, and just fall backward on it. We were always afraid he'd fall asleep.
- Summer '99: Bev, Allen, JYip, and I would cook dinner together Sunday nights. We'd then proceed to watch some really bad movie. Why was it that every movie we watched was really bad?? We snuck up onto the roof of the building one night at like 3am. We sat and talked. After a while, we all lied down so nobody on the street could see us. When we heard voices down below from the street, we started making weird animal noises (barking, purring, hissing, mooing).
- Janet sleeping over almost every weekend her senior year. We'd talk till 4am even though we just spent the entire day together. Then, we'd realize that we had to get up for church in 4 hours.
- The HMAP coordinators planning both semesters' retreats at my place the night before the retreat. Learning the *NSync "It's Gonna Be Me" dance in my living room by watching a tape of the video on "slow play" mode.
- Jamming with JKuo, JYip, Janet, and Sam till 5 am. Didn't we go to the city for dinner and get back around midnight? Then Sam appeared. I don't remember where he came from or why he was there. But, that was fun. I think that was actually the only time that I got to jam w/ the Jason's and Janet as well.
- SFC Senior-Freshman dinner. "So, who do YOU like?"
- Lots of boys playing lots of video games.
- Off-campus women's small group, prayer meetings, discipleship.
Ok, enough of this. I know that I have definitely been blessed by the opportunity to live in Royston all these years. It was like living in a big dorm. My best friends from high school lived next door. Jason, Dean, Elaine, Ben Tao, and Andy all lived there too. Jason and I were talking about how the entire "1st generation" of Royston has moved out. Well, all but Andy, living the BZ lifestyle. Haha.
I am grateful that Uncle Jeff (the landlord and my old Sunday School teacher) offered us a very reasonable rent for 3 years. I really think that God has used our apartment to bless many people, including myself.
Anyhow. Heroes. It's coming...it's not all that exciting, but it's coming.
December 14, 2001
Desultory thoughts:
It is beautiful outside today. It's really cold but clear. I had a gingerbread latte after my friend's funeral. The funeral was nice. The latte and the walk with God along the Berkeley Marina was excellent.
Everything is everywhere. Chanthip and I have managed to pack up a lot of boxes. It doesn't, however, seem to end. Moving tomorrow should be fun. It's gonna be a circus, but it will be a fun circus, hopefully. If you're available to help, please e-mail me. We could use a few more "eligible manly men" to quote Debbie. We could use more girls too! =)
No internet. Berkeley terminated my Home IP account. How sad, no more internet from home. At least not until we get our DSL up at our new place. Well, I can still connect using Chanthip's username, but we can't both be on at the same time. It's ok. I should be packing anyway.
Sleepy. I ate La Burrita, and now I'm at work and very sleepy. food coma!
Desultory. Find out what desultory means.
It is beautiful outside today. It's really cold but clear. I had a gingerbread latte after my friend's funeral. The funeral was nice. The latte and the walk with God along the Berkeley Marina was excellent.
Everything is everywhere. Chanthip and I have managed to pack up a lot of boxes. It doesn't, however, seem to end.
No internet. Berkeley terminated my Home IP account. How sad, no more internet from home. At least not until we get our DSL up at our new place. Well, I can still connect using Chanthip's username, but we can't both be on at the same time. It's ok. I should be packing anyway.
Sleepy. I ate La Burrita, and now I'm at work and very sleepy. food coma!
Desultory. Find out what desultory means.
December 12, 2001
I'm at work, and I was taking a break while eating ice cream.
I was reading this strip from The Norm today.
Here are my thoughts that follow as I read each frame:
Good Day: On a good day, I work like a maniac. I get so much work done. And at the end of the day, I don't even want to go home!
Bad Day: There are some days where I don't want to do anything. I come to work, and I post to the bbs, I read the news, I browse through online stores.
Daily Journal: oops! my bad.
I was reading this strip from The Norm today.
Here are my thoughts that follow as I read each frame:
Good Day: On a good day, I work like a maniac. I get so much work done. And at the end of the day, I don't even want to go home!
Bad Day: There are some days where I don't want to do anything. I come to work, and I post to the bbs, I read the news, I browse through online stores.
Daily Journal: oops! my bad.
December 11, 2001
God is a very good God. I love Him deeply; I need Him desperately. There are two phrases I haven't really uttered from the depths of my soul lately. Even though the circus seems to be in full swing in my life right now, there is no place I'd rather be than hidden in Christ.
Today was a good day, a very good day.
I may not be necessarily emotionally happy, but there is the joy of walking with Christ. He is the God who sees. He is the God who has removed my transgressions as far as the east is from the west. He is the God of All comfort. He is the God who saved me from the miry pit. He is the God who gave up His Son so that I could live. Me!? He is the God who makes the lame walk again. He restores broken relationships. He heals wounds.
I'm content.
Today was a good day, a very good day.
I may not be necessarily emotionally happy, but there is the joy of walking with Christ. He is the God who sees. He is the God who has removed my transgressions as far as the east is from the west. He is the God of All comfort. He is the God who saved me from the miry pit. He is the God who gave up His Son so that I could live. Me!? He is the God who makes the lame walk again. He restores broken relationships. He heals wounds.
I'm content.
It seems like today was a tough day for many people.
Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Quiet.
Where did you go?
Why is it so quiet?
No more giggling, no humming.
Humming rumble of a garbage truck.
That's all I'm left with.
A garbage truck.
Pink, green, white.
Images flash across my mind.
Memories.
Giggling, humming, laughing.
Sammy Jenkins.
Are memories real?
Will they fade?
Do memories have sounds?
Quiet.
Walking down the street.
Like a scene from Ally McBeal.
Music's playing in my head.
Every song comes to an end.
And it's quiet again.
A sniffle, a cry.
A room filled with flowers.
An awkward giggle as we sing
A song to remember a friend.
This song comes to an end.
Quiet.
Was it quiet that morning?
Or could you hear the bustle of life?
Sarah and Vinnie?
The Backstreet Boys singing about Drowning.
Were you singing?
Were you humming?
And then...
Quiet.
The Lord my God is in my midst,
A victorious warrior.
He wiill exult over me with joy.
He will quiet
me with His love.
Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Quiet.
Where did you go?
Why is it so quiet?
No more giggling, no humming.
Humming rumble of a garbage truck.
That's all I'm left with.
A garbage truck.
Pink, green, white.
Images flash across my mind.
Memories.
Giggling, humming, laughing.
Sammy Jenkins.
Are memories real?
Will they fade?
Do memories have sounds?
Quiet.
Walking down the street.
Like a scene from Ally McBeal.
Music's playing in my head.
Every song comes to an end.
And it's quiet again.
A sniffle, a cry.
A room filled with flowers.
An awkward giggle as we sing
A song to remember a friend.
This song comes to an end.
Quiet.
Was it quiet that morning?
Or could you hear the bustle of life?
Sarah and Vinnie?
The Backstreet Boys singing about Drowning.
Were you singing?
Were you humming?
And then...
Quiet.
The Lord my God is in my midst,
A victorious warrior.
He wiill exult over me with joy.
He will quiet
me with His love.