fantasies

After a few hours of intense reading (confession: I failed to study the mcat today), I have finished "Demon: A Memoir" by Tosca Lee today.

I have come to conclude several things:

1. I easily simplify and cheapen the story of history in the context that it is History. My finite and unimaginative mind cannot quite comprehend the concept of infinity, that there is no beginning or end with God. That the narrative of creation, the fall, redemption requires more heavenly adjectives than I can come up with.

2. My human frame, mind, emotions is simply not able to understand it all. Today, I have wished I be an angel and see through its POV for just a moment. Or perhaps go to heaven for 30 seconds. Or even be bestowed the honor of having a terriblyterrific vision/dream. My thoughts are so easily captured by these "things below".

3. There is still an small desire in me to be an author one day. Lord, could you make me into a doctor/community developer/teacher/author one day?

4. The things of this world that are glittery and beautiful are, as the author puts it, the pretty "tissue paper" of this physical realm. Hmm. I am often blind and forgetful of the spiritual realms around me and of the WAR that wages around me.

so.

Junior year of college is complete! (Wow.)
I am no longer a RA! (Wow.)
I am finally moved out! (Thanks to Joan, Kyler, and Garrett.)
I need sleep! (I'm counting on 8 hrs tonight, yess!)
I need solitude.
I was reminded today that this season of uncertainty and lack of clarity is a very sweet and beautiful time of my life (i trust in YOU).

He died in weakness..

http://theresurgence.com/2011/04/11/finding-strength-in-your-weakness

The theme of weakness has been my banner of praise these past two weeks. I've realized that I am indeed quite limited in my ability to do schoolwork, tests, jobs, ministries, relating with others, and even controlling my emotions. I can't do it all, I cannot manipulate circumstances, I do not have control of my life--I am so very weak! Forget the "Live Strong" mantra the world is advocating--to live weak is indeed one of the most Biblical things we must do.

This past week, this theme has continued into the Easter story: "Jesus flexed His muscles to the world by dying on the cross," according to a pastor I heard on Furious Love. That thought has challenged me, furthered by reading the article at the link above. HE willingly, intentionally was despised and rejected, mocked and spat upon, ridiculed and beaten, stripped naked and utterly alone. He became shamefully weak so that I could be made strong.

Think of how the demons rejoiced in witnessing His torture, death, and burial. I'm sure big parties were being thrown on Friday night and Saturday of that epic weekend (i truly do wonder what happened on Saturday since nothing is written about it; that deafening silence speaks volumes!). However, come Sunday morning...HE ARISES.


"O death, where is your sting? O hell, where is your victory? Our God is not dead, He's alive, He's alive!"
http://simplyyouth.worshiphousemedia.com/mini-movies/18195/Come-Awake

He dies in weakness...He rises in glorious strength, beautiful majesty, and eternal victory.


Since He is alive, will you not come awake also? 

In Honor of Their Birthdays...

This past week, my family celebrate the birthday of my mom's 45th birthday and my "baby" brother's 5th bday, while I thought of them here. I wholeheartedly wish I could've been there in person!
In honor of them, here is a short essay I wrote two years ago for a school assignment. Maybe by reading it you can understand the significance of my beloved mother and precious baby brother's roles in my family's history, and how my 15-then-turning-16 year old self underwent a transformation.
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Joy

            I inwardly sighed as I looked at the round clock perched on the opposite wall for the hundredth time that day. The room was decorated prettily with green flowered wallpaper, creamy beige accents and polished wooden furniture. While a vase of bright plastic flowers graced the table which overlooked the large bay window that allowed the sunlight to merrily dance in, one could not deny the tension that was present in the room or of the obvious pain of the woman on the white bed. A disheveled man standing by was holding her hand, soothing her with a calm quiet voice while a nurse in a blue scrub analyzed the situation and jotted down quick notes on a brown clipboard. I frowned as I mentally counted the number of hours I had been there which increased my impatience. Suddenly, the tension in the room was instantaneously heightened as two nurses and a doctor rushed in, completely attired in gowns, masks, and gloves. Like a crescendo in a piece of music, the breathing of the woman became quicker and there was a cacophony of encouraging words and sharp intakes of breath. Suddenly there was a delighted shout, a moment of silence, and the triumphant wail of a red-faced wrinkly creature covered in hair and blood. I gaped in wonder at my new baby brother and was instantly transported to the exact time nine months ago when the news was first announced.                                                                 

  The year I was fifteen, we were living in the Middle East in the capital city of Amman in Jordan, the home of a people group passionate in their religion, land, and food. We had recently moved there a few months beforehand and I was finally adjusting to the pounding heat of the day, the aggressive natures of the citizens, and the robust flavor of the foods, which I had come to slowly appreciate. What I loved best about the country was learning the rich history and seeing the remaining impressive ruins which had preserved magnificently throughout the centuries. Our family of four had gone on many sightseeing trips around the small country in a small silver car until my mother started getting severe stomach pains. She came back from the doctor one significant afternoon pale and silent as my dad proudly announced that we were going to have a new sibling, his eyes sparkling in excitement, his tone heightened with delight. I instantly stiffened, overcome with a strong sense of resentment as I realized that the dynamics of our family would be permanently changed and I turned away in disgust.                                         

      As the months passed, my anger towards the situation and especially towards my mom grew like a swelling wave. The pregnancy took such a toll on her body that her petite frame of 120 pounds became emaciated to a mere breath of 100 pounds. I was forced to endure many hours of flipping through overglossed magazines trying to decipher the baffling symbols of the Arabic language in white rooms crowded with plump mothers and babbling children. I detested the fact that the strong, charismatic mother I had known all my life had turned into a  weak-willed feeble woman too faint to do anything who had a set schedule for food and medication consumption, which I thought only appropriate for the elderly.                                                                    My emotional stability was rocked two months later when my dad announced that we would be moving back to Texas so that my mom would have adequate health care and the familiar comforts she needed. Attempting to adjust back was difficult for I could no longer appreciate the central heating system in our house or the rows of manicured lawns in our neatly spaced neighborhood. I no longer enjoyed walking in the endless hallways of tile and shiny lockers at school, longing instead to hear shouts of street children from my window or witness a heated debate between two boisterous cab drivers. As the weeks quickly approached the delivery date, I became more and more apprehensive while the wall of bitterness cemented around my heart over the things that I had lost.                                                                                                                    However, as I stood there in the same room as my mom, witnessing the long ordeal she went through in her nine hours of labor, blocks of this wall started crumbling. The memories of the nine months and the reasons I had daily refreshed in my memory for disliking her so faded as I perceived each ragged breath and every agonizing push. The worry lines on my dad’s face deepened each time she pressed her transparent hand in his tanned paw and I was struck with the realization my “loss” would be nothing if the baby or my mother lost their lives. I choked the sob that was coming up my throat, clenched my hands, and quickly wiped away the hot tears that had burst unexpectedly, like leaks in a reservoir. I was overwhelmed in shame and sorrow as I realized how selfishly I had behaved and realized for the first time that I had no one to be furious at but myself. When the climax was reached, my baby brother came out in a fanfare of shouts of praise and the antagonism in my heart shattered completely. Nothing could describe the awe and love I felt as I held this delicate bundle in my arms, admiring the exquisite perfect features and the velvety-smooth softness of his milky skin. Nor could words describe the gratitude I felt as I looked into the forgiving eyes of my mother who whispered, “His name is Joy”.

A few days after the delivery!

He's here! He's here!

First family road trip with Joy-joy! He was a little over a year old!

Age 2.

Christmas time, age 3.

on the eve of being a real Adult.

It is five minutes before midnight. Five minutes before I turn twenty one.
I am sitting in my room, in my pajamas, excited at the thought of getting into my bed before 2 AM. It has been such a busy week, and the thought of rest is so delightful!
Having just consumed a medium bar of premium milk chocolate, there are no guilty thoughts of it tonight..
The United Pursuit Band is playing in the background and bringing my focus back to the sweet presence of my Abba.
Earlier, I sat outside amidst the stars and reflected on my twentieth year. It has been utterly transforming, sweet, redemptive, broken, purging, cleansing, renewing, refocusing. The Lord has been soo faithful to my heart, and I have become a completely different person than I was at this time last year.
Tonight, I finally laid down my pride in remaining twenty and the fears & doubts of becoming older. Silly, isn't it, to have thoughts like that?
Perhaps, but the Lord was so gentle and kind to calm my fears. Since my earthly dad cannot be with me to celebrate, my heavenly Daddy reaffirmed me of His love tonight.

i am joyful to be 21! praise the Lord!

"this is my promise: my heart is YOURS forever, O Lord."

The title of this blog is a declaration I made in February 2009, the second semester of my freshman year of college.

It was uttered during worship; in the darkness of the room around 11PM, surrounded by dozens of believers who were simply enjoying the presence of the Lord. A strange song was sung in which this line was part of the chorus. I remember singing it once--then stopping. I was convicted, did I really mean it? Had I truly given my heart to the Lord? I realized that I had not. I mean, I had come to accept Him as Savior and Lord as a child, but I realized in that pivotal moment that I had never truly presented my heart to the Lord. As a woman, I had not presented my heart as a wife to her spouse; I had not willingly given Him my desire to love and be loved, to marry one day, to have kids. I had not laid at the altar my desires and longings, my attractions, my dreams, and imaginings. I had never given him my heart in the truest sense of abandonment....

I had not trusted Him.

Two years later, this topic is becoming even more meaningful, and even more significant to me. It is in the past 3 months that God has been challenging me further to trust Him. The story of the father of the demon-possessed child is ever-present in my mind because he utters, "I do believe; help me in my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24). He declares to Jesus that he does believe in Jesus' abilities, but he needs Jesus to give him the faith that he cannot muster on his own.


I do believe in the Lord. I have tasted and seen countless times how He has been too good to my family. I have seen the ways He has healed such brokenness in my own heart in the past 2 years. But I still need Him to overcome my unbelief.

In the past two weeks, so much has happened. I have given up the position of leadership that I have held and become comfortable with for almost 2 years. I have also let people go, the people that I've allowed to form ties to my heart and who crowded out the place for the Lord in my heart. I have decided that regardless of the "what if's?" that the Lord is still God.

He has been asking me where my hope lies. Who/where/what do I trust in? I'm realizing now that it cannot be in my positions, in my intelligence, in my good works, in my reputation, in my family, in people, in my own goals, money, the govt. It cannot be in stable infrastructure, or emergency back-up plans, or the slim chance that a tornado/tsunami/earthquake/volcano will not occur where I live. It cannot reside in the gifts that He has given me or the wonderful people He has allowed me to interact with, if I forget the Giver of those gifts Himself.

Sometimes the Lord takes away so that He may be first in our lives. A song from Switchfoot popped in my head the other night: "Do you love me enough to let me go," Jon Foreman crooned. The Lord reinterpreted the words to say, "Syeldy, do you love Me enough to let the other [lower-case] me's go?" Every time He asks me this, I am floored. I realize the partiality of my affections. Most of the time, the answer to that is no. Now, I truly want to say "yes!" as wholeheartedly and truthfully as I can, the first time around.

Therefore, He has been taking that desire of my heart and fulfilling it. He has blessed me by removing the possibility of my heart being compromised to another man, to another ministry, and other temporary loves by taking those things away.  These past 2 weeks have been so rich with His love, with His joy. I am truly falling in love with Him as I've never fallen in love with Him before! I am being drawn to deeper intimacy.

And it comes back to covenant. I am in a vertical covenant with the Lord. It is a relationship in which it is He that was the one to establish it and who maintains it, but I must do my part to love my Husband also. He calls me to be faithful to Himself, as He is eternally faithful to me.

He is my Pearl of Great Price...will I give all I have [willingly, intentionally, sacrificially, lovingly, wholeheartedly] to gain Him?

It is a daily decision. 

This is the beginning of Spring Break, and already, realizations and revelations have happened. It has resulted in vulnerability, brokenness, but an incredible amount of joy and peace! I am hidden in Christ, hidden in His perfect peace (Col 3:3).

Perhaps I Will Finish This One...

As the title suggests, I am typing out the first line of a potentially new post. If you are reading this, then it means that I have been successful in my attempt. If you don't ever read this, well, then it's no wonder because I would have never posted it!

I am a victim of procrastination. Actually, it's more like I do begin things, and then I don't end them well. Along the way, my flesh interjects and justifies how going halfway is good enough, or 3/4 will still matter. Completion is not always necessary, that little voice whispers deceptively. I don't practice this attitude in all areas,, but I find that this attitude creeps in and does spread its fingers into ever facet of life, like synctiotrophoblasts invading into the mother's maternal tissue as the blastocyst is embedding into the endometrium! (Haha, ok, that was an Embryology reference. It's a new class that I am taking this semester, and something I must do in my readings for tonight!)

These first two months have been significant for me. It would take too long to write it all and describe it in-depth, but here's a list:  D3. Discipleship. Fruits of discipleship. Human trafficking. Fasting. Seeking. Global Connect. Half marathon training. Egypt. Family. Sisterhood. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Genetics, Embryology, World Lit II, British Lit II. Volunteering at Scottish Rite. Spring Sing dancing & singing. Transitioning. Being reminded that I must die to myself. The Village Church. My Indonesian church. Close friends getting engaged, getting married. Praying about the future.


This is a year of transition, and I am already seeing it in my own life and the lives of many others around me. How beautiful it is to see! I am learning about getting deeper into His presence, and experiencing this depth individually and with the Body.

Well, I officially began this about 4 hours ago, but since then I have spoken with my best friend over the phone, had a hall meeting, had a late night snack, and the purposes of this post are no longer remembered.....Oh well. Many times, things do not end as they begun. :)

 I am off to finish Genetics! Selamat malam dan Tuhan memberkati!

A trip down memory lane

I really miss the Middle East.

At this moment, as I am looking through old pictures saved on a battered picture CD I found buried in a box in my dorm closet (which I had smuggled out of the house when I moved to college in 2008).
 I am longing to go back.

For those of you who know me, there is something about that region of the world that beckons to me. Granted, I have lived there, so perhaps the call of the old memories and buried laughter and many shed tears all buried underneath red rocks and dusty ground is what calls out my name. Maybe it's the old castles and broken pillars and ancient brick roads. The taste of roadstand shwarmas and delectable gooey baklavas during the time of ramadan. Perhaps it's the call of the mosques and the unspoken longings of millions of people seeking for their true Allah.

Whatever it is, I desire to go back. Yet the Lord keeps saying to be patient, and therefore, patient I will be.

He reminded me today of Is. 64:3-4: "When you did awesome things which we did not expect, You came down, the mts quaked at Your presence. For from days of old they have not heard or perceived by ear, Nor has the eye seen a God besides You, who acts in behalf of the one who waits for Him."

 I am content in the promise. HE knows my desires; He has put them there. Whenever it is that He wills for me to go back, I will go.

For now, I will be content perusing through old pictures. Enjoy them with me!