Ruminate whilst I illuminate...

Victoria says... Naps.

2008-08-19T00:35:00.002+02:00

After reading the "He Said, She Said" post on Naps, I feel like I have to tell you guys about my most recent, exciting nap.

So the other day I lay down thinking that I just have to take a quick nap before going to bible study. I told my mom to wake me up at like five o'clock. That was going to give me a good hour to take a nap. I, unlike Troy, Heather or Amy (The Wonder Napper), cannot take a 20 minute nap. It just leaves me irritated that I couldn't fall asleep fast enough. So, I lay down and it was one of those days where I just passed out. I was on top of the covers on my bed, I didn't even prepare myself for a good nap (good nap preparation looks like actually going to bed.) So I passed out and didn't even dream. What seemed like five minutes later, my sister is waking me up and I'm laying in a pool of moisture and I'm like "Whu..who...what?..kaylee?nap?drool?why...DROOL!"

It. was. gross. I was like, am I a 90 year old man? or a six year old boy? that fell asleep? during first grade? and then got made fun of the rest of the week? and called "drool boy"? no girlfriend till fifth grade? old man?

Now, you must know that I do NOT normally drool. I promise. I've drooled like 4 times in my life... I swear I'm not gross.

Seriously though- great nap. I was like out. I woke up feeling years younger- almost like I was 20 instead of 22. It was one of those naps that I didn't even dream. GREAT nap.

It leaves me thinking though, I think that if you don't drool often... and you drool every once in a while just during random naps... and the nap was AWESOME... that you're not so gross... I hope.

From my friend Amanda's bedroom...

2008-08-14T15:59:00.002+02:00

I've been doing a lot of moving around lately. In the last two weeks, I haven't slept in the same bed more than three nights in a row. I'm a bed hopper. *proceeds to jump on bed giggling then falls down and resumes post*

Just kidding, I didn't jump on the bed. (Amanda reads my blog)

Anyways... The last week has been busy but good. I've had a couple of meetings that resulted in a couple more monthly supporters so that's SUPER. I also feel like doors for more opportunities to share what I'm doing keep opening up left and right.

I'm supposed to be going home next week but I feel like there is a lot more to do here. I think I'm going to go home anyway for a couple of weeks and get my visa stuff in order so that I can come back here next month at some point and submit that and raise more. LOTS TO DO, PEOPLE, LOTS TO DO!

We've also been watching some of the Olympics... Phelps is RIDIC!... and the little Chinese girl gymnasts are definitely 16 years old guys... COMBINED. Also ridic, but in a different way.

The last couple of days I've had lunch meetings and dinner things with people and I feel like crap because yesterday I had Five Guys (for those of you who have been out of America for a while- best burgers and fries EVER- seriously... NO SERIOUSLY) and it was after two days of eating crap and I feel like I'm covered in hamburger meat and deep fried. That's gross. I'm only eating carrots for three days. Not really- But that's what I'm going to pretend all of my food is.

That is all.

Reliable

2008-08-12T02:29:00.004+02:00

Like I've said fifty times, I've been reading through Psalms. I'm up to Psalm 78. I feel like the last couple of psalms I've read I've been underlining like it's my job. I'm really diggin it.

So something that caught my eye in Psalm 78 was verse 57. David is writing about how unfaithful the Israelites were and how the Lord responded to their unfaithfulness. Often, for short periods of time, the Lord would let disaster overtake them but he was unfailing in his mercy towards them. While David is venting, he says, "Like their fathers they were disloyal and faithless, as unreliable as a faulty bow."

This is the first time in scripture that I can recall reading anything about reliability. After reading this verse I had to ask myself, am I reliable? My first thought was to measure my reliability in terms of how I am with people, but I don't think that's what this verse implies. I think the question here is, "Am I reliable to the Lord?"

Is my character and reliability such that, if the Lord were not all knowing, he would still put spiritually dying people in my path? If He really wanted something done, and put me in a position to do it, and if he were not all knowing, would I disappoint?

I'm sure I often do disappoint but my prayer is that I become a reliable tool in the Lord's hands. I want to be consistent and reliable to behave the way the Lord has asked, so that if he were not all knowing, He could still count on me. I want him to be able to say, "I'll stick Victoria there. She always comes through."

*end normal post*

What kind of post would it be if I didn't have a picture. So! Things that are reliable (just to give you a visual):

Top Ten Summer Foods

2008-08-07T05:28:00.003+02:00

After reading Troy and Heather's blog, "He Said, She Said" (see link to the left) I decided to add my opinions about the top ten best summer foods- mostly because they (read Troy... Heather is pretty normal...) skipped all the good ones and added ones like powdered donuts and bacon bits... ridiculous. SO! Without further ado-

Victoria's Top Ten Summer Foods Extravaganza

1. Potato salad or macaroni salad with NO mustardy flavoring whatsoever.

2. Watermelon (me and my mom used to get a whole one and cut it in half and eat it like they were two bowls of watermelon.)

3. Ribs.. or really any pork products cooked outside with some sort of BBQ sauce... but not hotdogs.

4. Corn on the Cob

5. FUNNEL CAKES!

6. Good, ripe peaches. Goin to the country... gonna eat me a lotta peaches. PEACHES PEACHES IN A CAN! THEY WERE PUT THERE BY A MAN!

7. Strawberry shortcake. The kind with those frozen strawberries PLUS real ones so you get the sugary syrupy syrup with it and the "shortcake" made out of bisquick! MMM!

8. Popsicles. Not American ones- the ones you get from the kioskos in Madrid. There's this one kind that has like, this mangoey inside with these strips of other flavors spiraled around the outside... omagoodness.

9. ICEE's... NOT slurpies or slushies. Those are way different and, although they are good, they cannot touch a freshly made ICEE. I haven't had one in a really long time though. But I want one. Now.

10. I'm gonna go ahead and mention potato salad again because it is so delicious. I could eat a bowl of it for every meal during the months of May, June, July and August. But remember- NO mustard.

Hey Jude

2008-08-03T03:43:00.003+02:00

Jude 20-25
But you, dear friends, build yourselves up in your most holy faith and pray in the Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in God's love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life.
Be merciful to those who doubt; snatch others from the fire and save them; to others show mercy, mixed with fear—hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh.
To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy— to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.

I liked this a lot. The "snatch others from the fire" reminds me of a poem that I read a while back- it's my favorite poem ever:

Some want to live within the sound of church or chapel bell;
I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of hell.

I'm sure that's been on my blog before but I was reminded of it recently. Pretty cool. I hope that's my life because everything else seems so boring.

My Show #4

2008-07-31T04:38:00.001+02:00

My Show #4 from Victoria Stembokas on Vimeo.

From my friend Roxy's bedroom:

2008-07-21T23:12:00.002+02:00

Hi. So I'm up in Virginia- Vienna more specifically... Actually even MORE exact, I'm in My friend Roxy's bedroom in Vienna sitting on the bed. That's where I am. In case you were wondering. Which I know you all were.

ANYWAYS, I've been up for a couple of days. It's been nice seeing people I haven't seen in a while and I saw the movie BATMAN which was AMAZING. Really good movie. Really. WAAAY better than Wall-E. I had to shut my eyes at one point because I was scared something was gonna happen but it didn't so it's okay. Vague, I know, but I don't wanna ruin the movie for anyone. But you should see it. All of you.

I'm also off to the Dominican Republic on Wednesday morning- like five am. That'll be exciting. I'm really looking forward to it. I'll let you know how it went when I get back so I won't be updating for awhile.

Nothing else TOO exciting- well, that's a lie, but I can't write EVERYTHING on my blog- has happened so that is all. For now.

An Interesting Week

2008-07-14T05:40:00.002+02:00

So this week a lot has been going on.
I'm planning on going back up to Virginia on Wednesday to raise more support for a while and go to the Dominican Republic on a missions trip with my old church. I've been in NC for like twoish or more? months now (it's late and I can't remember) and I haven't had ANYONE to hang out with this whole time. Like, no friends. My family is great and everything but sometimes you need friends. So yeah, no friends until like the last week and a half and I've been hanging out with people for the last couple of days. I'm like, crap. Why now.

The next couple weeks are gonna be crazy. I don't really know what to do to raise more support and I don't feel prepared at all. So that's all about that.

Malaki turned one this weekend too. It's been fun hanging out with him. He's getting super cute. I hope he remembers me when I get back.

I'm going to miss talking to one person in particular I met recently. Darn.

My Nana (the Ukrainian one) will be living with us for the next month. I won't be around so she'll be staying in my room. Apparently she was getting tired of living with my uncle so she called me Wednesday night and was like "can you come up to Virginia and get me?" so that was random. So she'll be here for a while. On our way back from VA I got the abstinence talk for like an hour. She said, "If boy touch you, you kick him in butt and say 'I don' need you.'" Good call. I've logged that away.

I saw Wall-E. Not great. It was about robots falling in love. That robot in that G-rated movie got farther with the other robot than I have in real life. SAD. I am excited though to see the new Batman which comes out in a couple of days. So that's cool.

I've been learning a lot about fasting lately. I highly recommend it for anyone that feels in any sort of "funk." Instead of deciding to fast certain times during the month I've been experimenting with this sort of "lifestyle" of fasting. You fast for longer periods of time and only eat when you must, like before work or before physical activity you know will require food. You may eat one small meal per day, but you're still in an attitude of fasting and can go longer than if you're eating no food. The Lord's been working through that in me so that's pretty exciting. I still lack wisdom and discernment and conviction in areas that I need it though so I really want to continue with it. I just feel like sometimes I have sooo far to go before I can be used by the Lord. I know that's not true but I feel so illequipped sometimes.

I should go to bed. I got stuff I gotta do tomorrow. Please pray for me. I'm getting a little overwhelmed by life right now.

Psalm Index: Book II

2008-07-07T19:39:00.003+02:00

Yes folks... It has been a while but I have indeed finished PSALM INDEX BOOK DEUX! It took me longer than the first book because I've been going through First Corinthians at the same time. SO, without further ado- I give you, my index.

Chapters 42-72
What God has for me- 56,57,65,66,68,71
Distress/Depression- 42,49,55,60,61,66,68,69
Sleep- Chapters 42,62,63
Who God is/God's Power- 44,46,49,52,59,62,63,64,65,66,68,71,72
Plea for Help- 44,55
Warnings/Bad personality Traits- 49,50, 53,58,62
What God wants from me- 50,51,54,55,64,66,69
Confession- 51,69
Fear- 56

I hope that encourages someone somewhere to get into scripture to deal with stuff that's happening to you.
The first installment is here.

Six months today.

2008-06-18T06:27:00.003+02:00

Ug. Support raising is booty. I don't want to be in the United States right now and I certainly don't want to be working at Denny's. I'm beginning to get frustrated with it all. I know the money will come and I know the Lord wants me back in Madrid, but it's the whole process of getting there and all the steps I have to go through that take effort. I'm just generally irritated right now.
My time with the Lord was going good for a while and then not so good because I never can seem to be faithful. I'm starting to get apathetic. Like- I just don't want to do anything at all, good or bad. I just want to sit and wait for something to happen. Blech. Bad feelings.
I know it's just a matter of time before I snap out of this funk- I'm a lot less dramatic this time, as in I know this wont last forever... it probably wont even last that long, but it's still a sucky place to be. I guess that's what a full six months here without Christian fellowship- real fellowship- will do to a person. Although, I guess that's just me blaming my crap on the lack of other people.
I can't believe I've been here for six months. I don't know whether that's encouraging or that makes me want to give up.

No mind has conceived.

2008-06-12T06:46:00.002+02:00

"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him."- Isaiah 64:4

I can't tell you how many times I've glossed over this verse and thought, wow, I wonder what great thing God has for me. I read it again a day or so ago in First Corinthians 2 where Paul is talking about what God has freely given us. Then it dawned on me. This verse was being quoted from Isaiah. This verse is about Jesus.

God is telling the Jews that their minds could not conceive of the gift he would be bringing them, the gift above all gifts, the gift of Jesus' atoning death on a cross. No one could have guessed that this gift would be the murder of God, who had come in the flesh, at their own hands.

This was the gift for those who loved God! This gift was infinitely more loving than merely delivering Israel physically and putting a Jewish man on the throne. No eye could envision scourging God, no ear could feign hearing the curtain rip! How much more loving an action than protecting that curtain!

When I expect God to protect my interests, or even my own self, am I asking for something less loving than what he has for me? My life might be more glorifying to God if he rips me rather than shields me. We must let God rip that which he originally knit together.

My Show #3

2008-06-06T20:01:00.000+02:00

My Show #3 from Victoria Stembokas on Vimeo.

I Corinthians 1:30ish

2008-06-05T22:01:00.002+02:00

So I've been going through First Corinthians. It's been great. I've been learning a lot and I feel like I should share some of it so WOOH.

1:30 "It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus who has become for us wisdom from God- that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption."

In this verse, Paul is equating wisdom with righteousness, holiness and redemption. Since they don't mean the same thing, it occurred to me that he's not saying that they are the same thing, but that they are equal in some other way. So I looked at the things righteousness, holiness and redemption have in common. The two things that we know about them we might not know about wisdom- that they are 1. freely given by God and cannot be earned and 2. that they are vital in a relationship of intimacy with Christ.

The first idea, that they are free gifts of grace, means that we cannot earn wisdom. I didn't really know this. I mean, the book of James talks about the Lord giving wisdom to he who asks for it, but it never occurred to me that you cannot gain wisdom by your own might any more than you can gain holiness or redemption. This is important for a couple of reasons- study can make you more knowledgeable, but like the rest of 1 Corinthians says, Christ crucified is foolishness to the world. Only the Lord gives wisdom which is great because you can be the dumbest buck on the planet but be wise if you know the gospel and have an intimate relationship with God.

That brings me to my second point. The value of righteousness, holiness and redemption lies in the fact that they open up a way to the Lord and keep that channel open. I never thought that wisdom might be important to this relationship- but the more I thought about it, the more it makes sense. Wisdom is the benefit that comes from reaping the fruits of righteousness, holiness and redemption. If we come to know the Lord and continue to know him- we gain wisdom from that- which then in turn means that wisdom is our intimate knowledge of God. It cannot be gained by mere study or knowing about God- it can only be gained as we give ourselves to the Lord and he in turn gives himself back. True wisdom only has value in its ability to bring further into that relationship of intimacy.

So basically, spending time with the Lord equips you to spend even more time with him- which is what's special about heaven, which brings more heaven to earth, which means that the kingdom of God comes a little bit more as we gain wisdom and redemption and wooh.

No.

2008-05-14T14:24:00.001+02:00

Okay, so I have a little obsession with posting video clips. I can't help it. This one is also hilarious and goes with the last video I posted. Enjoy.

Ya Sabía.

2008-05-14T14:17:00.001+02:00

This is a video I stole from Kelly's cousin's blog. It is hilarious.

My 101st Post

2008-05-14T00:08:00.002+02:00

my show #2 from Victoria Stembokas on Vimeo.

I secretly want to be a talkshow host.

2008-05-13T01:19:00.001+02:00

My Show #1 from Victoria Stembokas on Vimeo.

Aesthetic

2008-05-07T05:21:00.004+02:00

Sometimes when I'm bored I browse through Flicker's random "interestingness."
Here are some pictures that caught my attention. They go in order of favoriteness so as to save the best for last.

I like this because I remember learning about the Dewey Decimal System in elementary school using the card catalogs. That was in like 1991. The other memory I associate with this is walking through a green tunnel of trees and leaves to get home after school. I don't think I should have been walking home from school by myself but I remember doing it anyway. It was a long walk and all I remember is the green.

I like this picture because of the perspective and the colors. I like the card catalog picture because of the focus, and this one takes the focus and depth to the next level. I also like the shinyness. I'd like to sit on that bench. The air around it seems cool and humid.

I really like this picture because it captures motion somehow better than most pictures. I know it's because of the blurry v. stationary image, but for some reason the longer I look at it, the longer I feel like I'm rushing backwards.

I like this picture because of the title that was given by the artist: "Used to be two cups." I find that sad and want to know what happened to the drinker of the other cup.

This one is my favorite. I like it because she's older but she's very beautiful. I think that age in itself is beautiful. There's something about youth that doesn't seem complete... like if she were younger she'd be missing something. I think her wrinkles are what makes the picture.

Public Recognition

2008-05-02T23:38:00.002+02:00

I feel like this picture has not gotten the public recognition it deserves. So I'm posting it so you can just look at it.

Troy: When I think of you in my head, this is what I see.

A Less Happy Post

2008-05-01T19:48:00.001+02:00

Being kind of smart has some downsides. This May all of my friends are graduating. All of the kids at SLU-Madrid that I knew as a freshman that are still there will be walking down the sidewalk to snicker at the dean’s crazy chest hair without me. I’m actually really bummed out. I graduated and everything; I have my diploma to prove it. But I have no pictures, no cap, no gown, no tassle to hang off the rearview mirror of my car, no “Congrats” cards, no fancy black dress I can show my kids and say “this is what I wore the day I graduated college.” I didn’t have a graduation party. I didn’t get to really celebrate the end of school with all my friends. My teachers didn’t know it was my last semester so I didn’t get to say bye to any of them either. It’s true I’ll be going back to Madrid, and I may even get involved in campus ministry there, but it wont be the same. There will be different kids- not even my freshmen from my dorm will be there anymore because they’re all leaving this semester- the same time all my school friends will be leaving.
I am really sad about that. I feel like I missed out on a rite of passage I can never get back. It feels sort of like my botched highschool graduation. It seems like every time I have some cause to celebrate something important in my life it gets totally screwed up.

If I get married, no one is invited. I’ll just stand there alone, swearing.

If there were mice in my room, I'd have something interesting to write about.

2008-05-01T03:48:00.004+02:00

But, since I'm home in North Carolina again, there are no mice, hence my writers block.

It's weird coming home. I'm glad to be here but it feels a little bit like a step backward. My goal while I'm here is to plan a solid two weeks of meetings and home groups and whatnot in the future, probably June, and in the meantime work. I'm not really sure where I'm going to find a job.

I've become kind of resolved to the idea that I'm not going to make it to staff conference. That is a major disappointment. I know I'll live, and I keep asking God to let me go, but I don't see how it could happen at this point. I know it's possible, I just keep asking. The thing is, I want to go, but I don't if God doesn't want me to, but I still do, but if me going means I'll contract the plague or get trampled by a moose or *gasp* stay spoiled, I don't want to but I still really want to go. If you followed that.

I just had my first house meeting too. Two people came. There were technically three people there because the guy that lived there stayed, five if you include the dogs. That was also a bit of a bummer, but praise God anyway because I got a new supporter, if not two. The meeting itself went really well actually and I'm glad the people who came were there because all-in-all it was good. I know this is probably not new news to anyone who reads this blog, since most of you live off of support, but I feel like if people could just come to things I invite them too, it would be way easier to raise money.

The only thing that really frustrates me right now is people telling me that I am discouraged. I must hear that more often than anything else.
"I know you're discouraged but..."
"Just don't be discouraged."
"blah blah discourage blah discouragement blabby blah discouraged BLAH!"
And I haven't even been whining!

I really am not discouraged. The Lord has been doing some good things in my heart. I'm realizing now that support raising isn't about raising money- God could get me that money in five minutes, especially because I buy lottery tickets. Support raising is about God changing my heart and making me more like him, which takes much longer because it involves my cooperation which never really goes as planned because it involves a human element called "Victoria" in the Latin Vulgate. So I'm not discouraged. I've been reading the Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis so even if I were discouraged I wouldn't give the devil the satisfaction of knowing it! But, I'm not. SO STOP TELLING ME I AM OR I'LL DISCOURAGE YOUR FACE.

Back to what God's doing in my heart: I'm definitely gentler with words.

Okay but for real. I've been doing a lot of reading on prayer lately. And I've been doing a lot of practical application of that reading called, are you ready?- praying. I've started writing in my journal again which has been great because I have to process everything that's going on. I avoided that for a while because I didn't want to "deal" with certain things in my life but I realized that's a cop out and just pure mental laziness. So I've stopped being mentally lazy and now I'm doing a lot more thinking. Most of the time I fall asleep but I'm TRYING and STOP telling me I'm DISCOURAGED and COME to my HOUSE MEETINGS when I TELL YOU and I made REALLY GOOD LASAGNA today so SHUT UP.

aaaaaand scene.

My Weekend

2008-04-14T04:37:00.002+02:00

So this weekend was good. I went down to North Carolina to visit my family because it was my sister's birthday. All in all, great weekend with lots of food. Here are some pictures I took of my nephew. He turned nine months old yesterday! Crazy:

How to Rescue a Woman from a Beast

2008-04-07T04:25:00.002+02:00

So thank you all for commenting on my last post. One comment stuck out especially to me. Paul's comment was, "as a future husband, i don't really know what one could have done in that mouse situation. but yes, a meat tenderizer is quite handy." That was in response to Troy's comment that suggested I sleep with a meat tenderizer quite close to protect myself.
I realized after reading Paul's comment, the poor bloke probably doesn't know how to protect his woman, Kelly, from beasts. That's okay, Paul, that's why there are blogs where you can ask important relationship questions in total anonymity. I just want to do my part in helping Christian men be men.

To Protect Women from Beasts:

Here is what the proper response to my mouse situation would have been had there been a man that had any ounce of decency nearby during my dilemma:

Victoria: "CRAP! CRAP GUYS, CRAP"

Man: "What is it, my love?" (please imagine deep, booming voice and chest hair)

Victoria: "A beast has screeched across my floor thus striking terror within my bosom. CRAP."

Man: "Never fear! I can bench press a horse drawn carriage, I'll save you!" *note to men, if you cannot bench press a horse drawn carriage, start doing pushups. Those help.*
The man proceeds to pick up Victoria so there is a full six feet between her and the ground. He then awaits further instructions.

Victoria: "Carry me to safety!"

The man proceeds to carry Victoria to the nearest safe place where she can watch him slay the beast.

You'll note at this point in the story that Troy's comment comes in handy. That is because Troy has been married for quite some time, and knows how to handle women.(now I'm sucking up because he's my boss.) Troy mentioned I might need a meat tenderizer. Since he is a married man, he knows about weapons. For our story however, I am manicuring my nails on my satin litter while the Brawny man is slaying the ROUS and it is he, not I, that needs the weapon.
Back to my story...

The man then chooses from one of his many sized clubs and maces; this one resembles a meat tenderizer that would literally tenderize a full grown cow. The man is strong enough to fell a tree in one swoop, so this type of tenderizing weapon is not an exaggeration.

Victoria: "Careful my love, I'm too young to be widowed."

Man: "Calm thy nerves, the hottness, I shall sing to you while I hunt and slay the beast."

Man sings a nice song where all the names have been replaced by mine. I record song to play for all my girlfriends later on so we can giggle at man.

The man proceeds to rip apart walls until he stares down the monster and the creature of doom dies from fear from my beloved instead of any inhumane treatment. I'm not cruel! The man turns and looks at Victoria while the sun sets behind him... (the screen goes dark here, I'm not sure what happens next.)

That is how you slay a beast when it is threatening a woman in distress.

Either that or the chick sleeps on the couch and Mr. Pullen comes and puts rat poison behind the walls the next day.

Good Times

2008-04-04T07:05:00.002+02:00

So this week has been amazing. I've been super busy but I've really seen what the Lord is doing lately. There have been a couple of times where I've sat back and been like, "are you serious, Lord??" In a good way. I will probably write about this more at some point, it's really late and I'm feeling rambly and I don't want to go to bed yet.

I ate dinner by myself today. It was nice. I feel like I'm the only person on earth who will go to restaurants by myself just so I don't have to talk to anyone. As much of a yacker as I am most of the time, I really enjoy just not talking. I was going to type "silence" but when I'm by myself I'm not really silent either... I'm always thinking of something but it's nice to not have to verbalize everything in my head. It might just be lazy

CRAPPETY CRAPPIN CRAP A MOUSE JUST RAN ACROSS THE FLOOR. what do i do? im in the basement and i can't go tell the pullens, hey there's a mouse down here. he just ran from under my bed to where my CLOTHES are stacked on the floor. i KNEW i heard something last night but i didn't know what it was. WHAT IF IT HAS RABIES??? CRAP GUYS. i really don't know if i should sleep in my bed.
bleeeeeek.
im still sitting here... i have to walk past it to shut off the light and go to bed. i'm not even kidding, i couldn't have planned this blog drama better. i've already titled this post "good times." im not sure if i should change it. right at this moment, im not feeling like these are good times.
i really want to go to bed but im worried that mouse is gonna eat my stuff.... i used to have a pet mouse... THIS IS WAY DIFFERENT. i cant see it. UG thats the worst, if i only knew where it was i could... i dont know what i would do, but i'd feel better. this is a good example of the times i wish i had a husband. crap.

Victoria Said... Tickling

2008-03-29T15:57:00.002+01:00

Okay, so first of all, I take it back, you guys are nice people that comment. High fives all around. Second of all, this post is in response to Troy and Heather's blog "He Said, She Said" which you can find to your left. If you haven't read their latest post, I recommend it. Then come back here.

Okay, so tickling.

Let me begin by saying that the only reason I'm responding to this one particular blog is because I have very strong feelings about this subject and I'm not living near anyone who reads this blog right now, so I'm safe.

I never understood girls who, as a form of flirting, would run past a boy who tried to grab her and go "EEEEEEK I'm soooo ticklish, *giggleidiotgiggle*." I would stand back and most likely roll my eyes in disgust. This is why:

Any girl who is truly ticklish will tell no one. Everyone knows announcing to the public where one is ticklish is only an invitation to shoot your hands like a grappling hook at whoever said it. That is why no one really knows my little secret. I divulge this with no exaggeration. I am the most ticklish person in the world.

When we were little, my sister's favorite game was to wave her hands in a tickly motion IN THE AIR around my stomach and it would send me into fits of laughter. Just the thought of being tickled sent me into hysterics. She knew better, however, than to actually touch me.

The last person who actually touched me doesn't exist anymore. You have been warned.

Three Seasons down, One left to go.

2008-03-27T00:55:00.004+01:00

Okay, so apparently I'm not gonna get comments no matter what I write. I mean, come on guys. A serious biblical post followed by literally my funniest post ever. I even put a video up and NOTHING. NADA. NIL.
Whatever, I'm totally over it.
Not.

I don't really have anything to say actually. I just feel compelled to write something because I want people to keep reading this... not that I'll ever know they read it because NO ONE COMMENTS. Except for Amanda. And Gretchen wrote me an email. Those people rock. For the rest of you though... sleep with one eye open. That's right! Even you madrileñas... I'll get you my pretty, and your little dog too.

I really really don't know what to write. I'm rambling here. Struggling for words. I'm going to a bridal shower this weekend. I bought the four piece kitchen utensil set off of the Target registry. Classy. I know. Ummmmmmmmmm...... Oh I'll talk about some music.

So Jon Foreman, lead singer of Switchfoot, has been coming out with his own albums. In the fall, one came out named "Fall". In the winter, one came out named "Winter". Guess what came out two days ago? "Spring". I'm stoked to listen to it. I have it waiting for me on my iTunes. I don't know why I haven't listened to it yet- I think it's because I want to create some anticipation. I want to be fully prepared to hear it in all its wonder. It's almost like we're dating right now and I'm just waiting for that day... you know what day I mean... OUR TWENTY FOUR HOUR ANNIVERSARY where whatshisface buys me a soda at the Kangaroo.

I'm gonna ask for one of those soft oatmeal cookies to go along with it.

Like, Seriously.

2008-03-24T15:51:00.001+01:00

This is my blog, and if this makes you uncomfortable, that's too bad.

OMG from Victoria Stembokas on Vimeo.

Psalms: Book I

2008-03-19T19:21:00.004+01:00

So like I said before, I've been going through the book of Psalms. Today I finished "Book I." Book I includes Psalm 1-41. About half way through I realized that I'd never in my life remember all the cool stuff I was reading. It seemed certain Psalms stuck out to me for certain reasons and I'd read most of them while saying to myself, "self, this would be great for when you feel like (insert emotion here)." Knowing that I'd never remember that when I was actually feeling (insert same emotion), I thought, HEY I'll make a bookmark with all this stuff and put it in the beginning of Psalms so when I'm feeling (again, note the pattern...), I can know where to go. SO... behold.

It fits so purty.

So here's what I got. These are the things that stick out to me, and some are just verses out of chapters that I underlined and then stuck the chapter in the category, so it's pretty personalized, however, if you want to know what Psalms to go to for confession or for fear, I thought I'd put it on my blog. You'll have to make your own little bookmark though.

Psalms Index- Book I (Chapters 1-41)
Scripture/Meditation on the law: Chapters 1,12, 18,19,33
God's Sovereignty: Chapters 2,16,20,22,27,29,30
Fear: Chapters 3,16,20,23,27,34
Anger: Chapter 4
Confession of Sin: Chapters 19,25,32,38,39,40
God is Near and Hears: Chapters 5,9,10,11,13,18,22,23,25,27,28,30,31,34,40
Waiting: Chapters 5,13,16,27,31,33,37,40
Bad Personality Traits/Warnings: Chapters 5,7,9,10,12,14,15,16,19,28,36,37
God's Majesty and Handiwork: Chapters 8,18,19,24,29,33
Frustration: Chapters 13,22,25,39
Holy Hill: Chapters 15,24,26
Sleep: Chapters 3,4,16,23
What God has for me: Chapters 16,27,31,39,40

So there it is. I'm hoping to keep going so eventually there will be a books II-V. This has been cool though. I encourage you to do it yourself at some point, I'm getting a lot out of it.

Psalm 13

2008-03-16T18:35:00.002+01:00

Anyone who's known me for longer than five minutes is bound to know that I have a lot going through my head. I'm not necessarily a busy person with a lot of things to keep track of, it's more that I have fifty useless but brain consuming things going on in my head simultaneously. These things are things like:

1. if a tidal wave were to come over the horizon right now, what would my escape route be?
2. will my grandparents be in heaven? are my great grandparents?
3. do tattoos really hurt that bad?
4. is God really real? is this just some giant delusion I'm a part of or am I just part of the minority that has it figured out?
5. if I had a million dollars and one day to spend it, what would I do?
6. how bad do I want chicken parmesan right now?
g. are my cousins okay? if my littlest cousin isn't being taken care of like I hear, is it my duty to take her and raise her and have to live in America forever?
8. is the world really going to end in 2012 like the Incas on the history channel said?

This is just a sampling of what went through my head yesterday in like, probably an hour. I'm always wrestling with my thoughts- always. It's exhausting and it makes me want to be apathetic about real things that are happening because the world seems so big and daunting in my head.
Most of the time, it's the questions about God that keep me up. It's the questions about if I'm doing everything I can to be open to his leading, questions about Hell, questions about whether or not there is any hope for certain people in my life... the list goes on and on.

I've been reading through Psalms lately. I've always thought they were pretty superficial- people are way more impressed with, "yeah, I've been studying the migratory patterns of the sheep of Israel in Habakkuk" than "I'm reading Psalms." The reason I started reading Psalms actually was because of these thoughts in my head all the time. I wanted something light and airy that I could just read and be like, oh, how nice, and then go to bed without contemplating the universe first.
But how I was mistaken, gentle readers, but HOW!

Psalm thirteen was written for people like me. Verse two says "How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?" That verse really stuck out to me because most days, this is how I feel. Anyways, it goes on in verses five and six to say "But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord for he has been good to me."

I thought this was great because focusing on 1. the Lord's unfailing love, 2. our salvation, and 3. the Lord's goodness to me, always redirects my thoughts to somewhere where there is hope for the world and there's hope for me. This passage is even more beautiful to us, nowadays, than it was when it was written because we can contemplate our salvation fully now that we know Christ. If the doctrine of grace, the Lord's unmerited favor, cannot soothe my weary mind, I don't know what can. It reminds me that my burdens fall on Christ's shoulders alone if I'll let him take them. I prove to myself every day that they're too heavy for me alone to bear.

In closing, if you haven't read through Psalms in a while and you already understand Habakkuk, I recommend it. I'll be posting more about more of them soon.

How I'm Doing

2008-03-12T20:14:00.003+01:00

So the last week or so has been good. I'm up in Northern Virginia for like the next two months. This support raising has been a little harrowing. I feel like there's a lot of work to do but a lot of waiting involved which I'm not normally good at;but, I'm learning.
Virginia has been kind of lonely, which I wasn't expecting at all. I mean, I've seen people and gotten to hang out with some good friends, but it's weird- I don't feel like I belong here anymore. I guess that's a good thing because if I did feel like I belonged I'd want to stay for longer than I'm able, but it's still weird. I feel like it's also a time in which I'm meant to focus on seeking the Lord for companionship and comfort. Sounds gooshy but whatever. I've been really convicted of spending most of my down time doing useless stuff instead of spending it in prayer or in study or even reading something beneficial.
I'm also a little discouraged lately because people keep saying things to me like, "well if your student loan is that high, I can't see you going straight onto the missions field..." or "hey, I found a job for you next year teaching, you know, if this whole missions thing doesn't work out..." or " you know, missions is usually something retirees do when they have money to blow. You're wasting your education..." Literally, word for word. I'm not even embellishing this time.
Usually I retort with some witty comeback like "you're a ho," or "well, I really feel called to Spain so I know God will come up with the money..." One of the two. But after hearing it from the people that I was expecting to be most supportive, it knocked me back and made me ask, "Have I really been called? Is this something I just really want to do? or is this something God is asking me to do? or both?" It's a tough question and I don't honestly know the answer. I do know, however, that the more I talk to people about what I'm going into, the more passionate about it I get and that I could talk all day long about my church, Oasis.
On the other hand, I feel like out of most people, I'm really irresponsible and I've taken a lot for granted in my life. I feel like I've had a lot handed to me. I feel like if there were ever a shoe to drop, now's the time, and it would be totally appropriate for God to be like, okay, you had a great four years, but welcome to your real life and the real world.
I know God isn't a cosmic killjoy, but I feel like the life I'm trying to prepare for is too good to be true and definitely too good for someone like me.
I also know God is gracious.

For All Missionaries

2008-03-06T15:49:00.003+01:00

I was skipping through blogs the other day and I came across John Calvin's commentary on Philippians 2:21. I read his commentary before I read the verse- so that's the order I'll write it in. It's worth reading.

"For you must give up your own right if you would discharge your duty: a regard to your own interest must not be put in preference to Christ's glory, or even placed upon a level with it. Withersoever Christ calls you, you must go promptly, leaving off all other things. Your calling ought to be regarded by you in such a way that you shall turn away all your powers of perception from everything that would impede you. It might be your power to live elsewhere in greater opulence, but God has bound you to the Church, which affords you but a very moderate sustenance. (haha) You might elsewhere have more honour, but God has assigned you to a situation, in which you live in a humble style. You might have elsewhere a more salubrious [healthful] sky, or a more delightful region, but it is here that your station is appointed. You might wish to have to do with a more humane people. You feel offended with their ingratitude, or barbarity, or pride; in short, you have no sympathy with the disposition of the manners of the nation in which you are, but you must struggle with yourself, and do violence in a manner to opposing inclinations, that you may keep by the trade you have got; for you are not free, or at your own disposal. In fine, forget yourself, if you would serve God."

AMEN, right? Wow. Here's to doing violence to opposing inclinations and turning away all our powers of perception to other things. Troy said something like this to me before I left for America, something about being where I am right now 100%. So yeah. I think all people working in ministry should know this quote. Plus, Calvin uses the word withersoever.

Now here's how Paul put it in Philippians. "For everyone looks out for his own interests, not those of Jesus Christ."
Succinct Paul, succinct.

Not the weirdest dream I've ever had but still weird.

2008-02-28T21:02:00.004+01:00

Last night I had a dream that I was being chased my a "Voldemort Snake." I was in this giant room that was divided in half by a wall that went only half way to the ceiling. On either side of the wall there were pews. All along the ceiling there was scaffolding that you could hide in. It was all some sort of game- you had to hide from the snake or he would eat you. Pretty fun, eh? I was hiding under the pews for a while between the wall and the first set of pews. I thought the snake would smell me with his little tongue smellers and I'd get eaten, but I didn't. Then someone moved the pew because the other people I was playing this "game" with were MEANIES. Then I climbed up the scaffolding and was like "what kind of hiding place is this? you can see through scaffolding..." Then I got mad. Then I started thinking of the snake that Jafar, the evil sorcerer, turns into at the end of Aladdin. Then I wasn't sure if the snake was Jafar or Dumbledore. I still don't know. I woke up because the baby was crying- a pretty common occurrence lately.

It was definitely better than the dream I had the night before. I was fighting with an old friend- Joe Stroup- and he had a butcher knife and I had a coffee cup. It was one of those dreams that you're fighting for your life so you're not axed by your crazy butcher-knife wielding friend, but you can't really hit hard. Like I was swinging the coffee cup but my arm felt like Gumby.
I didn't get stabbed but I didn't beat Joe with the coffee cup either. Frustrating.

Victoria Said... Dreams

2008-02-08T17:01:00.001+01:00

So this post is in response to Troy and Heather's post on Dreams. Check it out if you haven't read it.

So I come from a family where dreams are taken very seriously. Seriously.
I think it's an Eastern European thing- I get it from the Ukrainian side of my family- my maternal grandmother's side. I say it's an Eastern European thing because I've met quite a few people from Poland, Russia, Ukraine, and Romania and the topic of dreams having meaning comes up every so often. A lot of times most Americans will look at us and go, really? dream interpretation? you're serious? Yes. When am I not serious?

A lot of people, Christians especially, think of dream interpretation as some weird far-Eastern spiritual thing that can be likened to having a seance or astrological surfing. It's totally not, unless you're buying those weird dream interpretation books with moons and stars and unicorns on the front- I think that's a perversion of dream interpretation.*

(cover of weird dream interpretation book...the inside cover says things like "guide yourself and try using crystals under your pillow yadda yadda. that's how you know they're a bunch o' crazies.)

I think if you're open to being communicated with through dreams by the Lord, he'll totally speak to you that way. I think it happens more however if you're expecting it. For me, dreams are so important that it comes naturally to me to say "why wouldn't God reveal things to me in a dream?" However, I think sometimes the way we were brought up culturally has a big influence on how we communicate with God or allow him to communicate with us. For example: I have this Persian friend whose mother was born in Iran. She became a Christian and part of her normal worship is burning things on her stove to send up beautiful fragrances to the Lord. This would have never occurred to me! She burns all kinds of incense and things and delights in the idea that God likes the smell! I think that's so cool. But, I would have never done it and it isn't ingrained in me to do so I don't feel like I'm missing anything when I'm not doing it.
Make sense? My point is this: dreams are important to me and my family culturally, so if you don't ever remember your dreams or your dreams are mostly water polo, don't fret. You're not necessarily missing anything.

The things that my nana insists can be divulged by dreams are usually if you're going to get money, lose money, if you are going to make or have made a bad decision, and the hidden character of people close to you. She is a little eccentric so some of her hard and fast rules I think border on superstition. For example, if you dream that you're standing in clear water or there is a lot of water around, that is a good sign. That could mean money's coming or that you don't have to watch out for anything ominous. If you see a person with a lot of cats in your dream, that means that person is shady and you should watch out for them. These are a little more superstitious than the Lord speaking, but my mom's dreams for example are easily interpreted.

My mom has dreams about people all the time that show them to be sketchy characters long before she finds out about their hidden dealings. Most recently, she went out on a date with this guy and he asked her out again. She prayed long and hard (like she does with everything) and that night had a REALLY creepy dream about the guy. It's stuff like that that I've learned to trust.

You really have to be careful though. When I became a Christian and my grandma found out that I stopped going to mass, she told my mom the next day that she had a dream about me in a black wedding dress which clearly means that I got married to Satan. (pretty ominous) She was pretty upset and doesn't understand anything about protestantism so naturally, she thought I was leaving the flock for good.

For me, dreams are material things that carry weight as experiences. Obviously, not all of them have some sort of hidden meaning, but I think that they deserve to be prayed about and dissected a little bit before starting your day. Try praying especially for the random people that show up in your dreams. You'll be surprised at who starts coming up.

For those of you still reading the longest post EVER, thanks! And sorry it's kind of boring.

*I think real dream interpretation has to involve the Bible and prayer- like Joseph interpreting the dream for Pharaoh, the other witchy guys couldn't do it, but the Lord could.

annoying stuff that is annoying

2008-02-07T04:09:00.000+01:00

1. shutting off your computer thinking you saved the stuff you haven't actually saved in three days. after changing things. THREE DAYS WORTH OF THINGS! BLAHIDNGISDNG.
2. basically all technology.
3. my stupid *(Y$(@H#@E* dog who thinks my room is his own personal latrine.

man that's annoying.

in other news... here's a question to pose to the people who normally leave comments on my blog. when do you stop trying to be friends with someone? like there's only so many times you can contact a person and them not respond before you gotta be like, okay peace.
one of my best friends from highschool won't answer any of my calls and the last thing i heard was that she's pregnant. i think i've completely given up on her. there are other people out there too that i keep trying to talk to but it never happens- but now that i think about it i do that to other people too. i don't like that most of my relationships rely on facebook. i can comment on people's shoes, movie preferences or quizzes that they take but i have no idea how they are actually doing. i don't like that at all. this deserves more thought.

and finally, im going to tattoo the words "hit save" to my fingers. AHH im so annoyed.

Some quoteworthy quotes:

2008-01-26T20:47:00.000+01:00

So I've been reading a book that Gretchen gave me for Christmas. It's called Markings by Dag Hammarskjöld. At first I was like, Sven who? It was originally written in Swedish so that's grounds to at least begin reading anything. My thoughts now:
Who cares who Klauss whoever is.. THIS BOOK IS AMAZING AND THE GUY WAS A GENIUS.
Markings is basically journal entries from this guy Dag Hammarskjöld who was a politician in Sweden between 1925 and 1950 when Europe was basically in constant turmoil. I'm only about a third of the way through the book but the amount of insight in ever single passage of his journal is outrageous. It makes all of my journal entries look like "Dear Diary, today Tommy Jones looked at me and I giggled." or "Dear Diary, why doesn't John Carlson ever smell bad? HE DOESN'T EVEN WEAR COLOGNE!"

So here are some snippets of what I've been reading. If you're tired, it's best to go take a nap and come back fresh.

"Openness to life grants a lightening-swift insight into the life situation of others. What is necessary?- to wrestle with your problem until its emotional discomfort is clearly conceived in an intellectual form- and then act accordingly."
(finally someone more emotionally cold than I am...TROY.)

"It makes one's heart ache when one sees that a man has staked his soul upon some end, the hopeless imperfection and futility of which is immediately obvious to everyone but himself. But isn't this, after all, merely a matter of degree? Isn't the pathetic grandeur of human existence in some way bound up with the eternal disproportion in this world, where self-delusion is necessary to life, between the honesty of the striving and the nullity of the result? That we all- every one of us- take ourselves seriously is not merely ridiculous."

"Beauty: a note that set the heartstrings quivering as it flew by; the shimmer of blood beneath a skin translucent in the sunlight.
Beauty: the wind which refreshed the traveler, not the stifling heat in dark adits where beggars grubbed for gold."
(makes my idea that beauty is an emotion a little less eloquent and original but I take it as a compliment)

"You cannot play with the animal in you without becoming wholly animal, play with falsehood without forfeiting your right to truth, play with cruelty without losing your sensitivity of mind. He who wants to keep his garden tidy doesn't reserve a plot for weeds."

That last one stings a little for me, and it's been on my mind for at least the last day. So basically, I recommend this book highly. Hammarskjöld is a little bit cynical and in my opinion errs on the side of not enough grace, however, some of his ideas are sobering when I'm more likely to err on the side of prancing around in a field of hysteria.

And so it begins...

2008-01-21T14:53:00.000+01:00

It's Monday. I arrived back into the U.S. on Thursday. I gave myself a little break because since I graduated way back in the 07's, I haven't stopped moving or thinking. But, today is Monday. It is day one of the rest of my life: support raising.
I can tell you that it is a little daunting. I mean, I gotta raise all the money I have to live for like a year! OR TWO! GASP! Do you know how hard/much/ridiculous that is? Well, a lot of you do. For those of you who don't, lemme tell ya: it's hard/a lot/ ridiculous.
I've been hanging out with baby though. My little nephew/godson is ADORABLE. But he pukes on me. So, there are ups and downs to hanging out with a baby all day. It's cool though because when I left he was a month old, and now he's six months old. Basically they fast forwarded him five months (because usually life doesn't change or progress at all in America while I'm away.) He has a little personality! Plus he thinks I'm the funniest being on earth and I don't even have to whip out my old stand-up notebook.
Again though, he pukes on me. Yesterday I got carrotted during Sponge-Robert-Quadrilateral-Trousers (everything is an opportunity for intellectual betterment. That little 3/4 cracker's gonna be a genius by the time I leave.)
That is all.

Cereal, and how to eat it properly. TROY.

2008-01-06T13:15:00.000+01:00

Out of respect for the few readers that visit this site regularly and expect truth and wise musings here, I'll cut to the chase. Soggy Cereal is one of the best foods ever. Don't get me wrong, crunchy cereal is not bad, but it's like having hamburgers when you can have steak, or a strawberry lolly-pop when you can have real strawberries, or being on earth versus being in heaven with Jesus, who also likes his cereal soggy.

Frosted miniwheats are delicious when they have completely been soaked full of milk. Otherwise they are dry and stick in your throat. You could die.
Chex are delicious when they are half way in between soggy and bloated and fresh out of the box. They need to be half soggy to fully appreciate their delicate and complex taste. It's like letting wine age.

I think I love cereal as much as I love toast. I, like Nic Cady, prefer non-sugary cereals to the sugary ones. My favorites in America are Raisin Bran (I love raisins), Chex, Cheerios and Rice Crispies (also with Bananas like Heather said.) Cereals I do not like however include Golden Grahams, Cap'n Crunch, or Apple Jacks. I mean, I'll eat them, but I'm not a fan.
I think the only really sugary cereal I like would have to be Smacks- which Spain likes to call "Crock Bizz." There is a picture of a crocodile on the box. They are delicious.

Until next time, try not to let this new year make you rushed and hassled. Try slowing down to enjoy the finer things. Don't rush when eating your cereal for example. Patience is a fruit of the Spirit.

Victoria Said... Fast Food

2007-12-02T13:06:00.001+01:00

HEY remember to read Troy and Heather's blog about fast food first or this will make much less sense.

So, now for my thoughts:

Okay. I'm glad Troy and Heather married each other because I cannot think of anyone else in the whole universe, even aliens and people that aren't real like centaurs and Dracula, that likes Arby's.
That said, I can understand why Troy like Burger King. I hate mayonnaise. When people put it on my food, it makes me want to commit crimes.

So, I am willing to forgo delicious McDonalds' fries for the less delicious fries at Burger King simply because I won't have to return my chicken sandwich nine times because they keep screwing it up. But Heather is right, McDonalds' fries are superior.
That said... Has everyone forgotten Taco Bell? I know that their food is disgusting approximately eleven seconds after you swallow it. But boy, those eleven seconds are pretty good. Soft tacos are better than hard tacos. I also like KFC. I think however, that the fast food prize might have to go to Wendy's.
I prefer Wendy's because I like chicken sandwiches and I think they have done a pretty good job with them. I also like their frosties although I can only eat like a half of one because there are like seventy billion grams of sugar in each one. But they are Frosty and Delicious.

(Actually, the best fast food restaurant is Chickafila, but I left that out because they don't have it all over the states and I didn't want to make people who have never been there jealous. But everyone knows it's the best. I like their plain chicken sandwich with pickles. And they never put mayonnaise on anything UNLESS you ask. Which is how America was founded originally. So...

Dear Chickafila,
Thank you for you chicken and patriotism.)

And survey says...

2007-12-01T23:12:00.000+01:00

Okay, so coming series of blogs is going to be in response to my pastor and pastor's wife's shared blog called "He Said, She Said." They've been posting their differing opinions about different issues and I decided I want in on that action. I am going to try to post something short on all their blogs, so we'll see how I do. I would recommend however that you read their blog first. It's funny. http://cadyhesaidshesaid.blogspot.com/

Reading:
I like to read a lot and I'm usually a fast reader with the books that Heather likes. I'd have to agree with Heather that I get the most relaxing enjoyment out of books that I could have read in the third grade.
When I do read a book that makes me flex my cerebral muscles however, I feel a keen sense of accomplishment. Fear and Trembling, by Soren Kierkegaard, for example, was not an easy read. However, it was one of the most interesting books I've ever read and gave me a new perspective on faith. It was also a pleasure to read in a different way- when I have to stop and put the book down so that I can think for a minute or two before moving on, I feel like I'm actually learning. Someone once said (I can't remember who) that most people when they think don't actually think, they just "rearrange their prejudices." I don't know what I think about people being capable of having original thoughts but we can have thoughts that are original to us- like that time I thought I invented Christian Hedonism and then someone told me about John Piper. So in "summa" my love for reading has more to do with escaping into stories like the Chronicles of Narnia or the Lord of the Rings but my love for knowledge is different. I love reading not for the knowledge but for the story.

OH and PS.

Tonight Troy told the story of Gabriel and I just want to say publicly (because I don't think Troy knows how talented he is [Amy and I have decided that he doesn't]) that it was VERY VERY good. I think this Christmas since I'll be at his house, I will require some Christmas story complete with different voices or something. Like the Grinch or something. I haven't decided yet. or something.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Toast

2007-11-19T12:06:00.000+01:00

I love toast. Oasis is a good church for me to be in too because they love toast. We're one big happy toast family.
I like toast with
butter,
jelly,
honey,
cinnamon sugar,
nutella,
peanut butter,
peanut butter and chocolate sprinkles (thank you Holland for your contribution to the world of toast),
peanut butter and jelly
and I like blt's which one must make on toast.

I love toast!

Here are my secrets for perfect toast:
1. Don't refrigerate your butter. It won't go bad, you're just being a germophobe.
2. Make your toast after you've already made your tea or coffee but mostly tea because coffee is sick... so that it doesn't get cold while you're waiting for your morning beverage of choice. You must eat your toast warm, Frodo.
3. My final secret for perfect toast is this: once your toast pops up punch the toaster. Just kidding. Once your toast pops up, take one piece out and butter it THEN take the other piece out. By doing this, the second toast doesn't get unnecessarily chilly while you're buttering your first toast.

Now, there are different camps of toast making. I must say, I am not the queen of toast. Troy Cady is. Not only does he make some mean toast but he spreads the butter and the cinnamon sugar to all laterals of the quadrilateral toast. He also makes grilled cheese like a mofo*.**. So, in summation, Troy makes toast good, but by following my three secrets to toast, you can also make toast good too. I love toast.

*I can use the word "mofo" here because one time my mom called me a mofo because she heard it on t.v. and didn't know what it meant. She was like "pick up your socks, mofo," and I was like WHAT? And my sister almost peed in her pants. So I use "mofo" here in that sense. I also use it because no one will read it as the extended version as they would a$$ or buttmunch.
**I use "mofo" in the good sense like Amy uses "sick" every time she sees good dancing.

knowing v. Knowing (this blog isn't about sex)

2007-11-11T12:22:00.000+01:00

knowing versus Knowing. You can know about dcTalk or maybe you know some of their songs, but do you really Know them? Have you been to one of their concerts? Do you Know that Kevin Max crowd-surfs and is awesome? You can know about a place or even go there to visit, but living there allows you to Know it. I Know Madrid. I Know chicken parmesan subs. Actually, I would like to Know one right now, but from what I Know about Madrid and from what I Know about chicken parmensan, I can Deduce that I won't be getting one 'till I'm back in America.

I think this concept of knowing versus Knowing is crucial for scripture and spiritual matters. I can know that Paul said that he was the worst sinner he knew and that attitude should be our own. It is a different matter altogether to wake up in the morning and call your pastor to say that you don't think you're really saved because you don't know ANYONE who is capable of what you Know you did.

I have known Galatians 2:20 for a long time. It's one of the first verses I memorized. I might have forgotten the reference or when I learned it, but I have always been able to rattle off "I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself up for me."
Over the last year I have spent a lot of time in Romans 6-8. One of the main themes of that chunk of chapters is that as a Christian, I can't let sin reign in my mortal body. I have to crucify my flesh again and again when the sin creeps back in. I've known this in theory for some time but I never really Knew how I'm supposed to crucify my flesh.
So I started flogging myself.
Just kidding.
What actually happened was I was sitting on the metro and the seats were full. I had gotten one of the last ones and it was when I was on the way from my house to the Cady's house which is kind of a long ride, like a half an hour or so. Anyways, I'm usually good about getting up when old people get on or people that obviously need the seat. So this woman gets on, probably in her 60's or so. Not that old. And I am sitting there and I know that I should probably get up and let her sit down. Then the putrescence that plagues every believer creeps in. "She's not that old." "My nana's older and she wouldn't need to sit." "Why doesn't one of the 30 other people around me with a seat get up." "She's probably going to get off soon anyways, and I have like 25 more minutes to go."
Then the holiness that helps every believer whooshes in. "It doesn't matter who she is, she's older, get up." "You just did a bible study on serving. Jesus washed feet, and you can't let an old lady sit?" "Don't listen to the putrescence. That's what I'm here for." "CRUCIFY THIS!"
Then I realized that's what crucifying the flesh is. Doing something that you don't want to do simply because Jesus would have done it. OR Not doing something you really, really want to do simply because Jesus would not have done it. I know that sounds simple and this post probably now sounds pointless, but it had never dawned on me like that before.

To my shame I sat there a little longer with these thoughts rolling around in my head and the idea of crucifixion and whatnot and then, finally got up. She sat down and muttered "gracias." She should have beat me upside the head with her giant old lady purse for taking so long.

My Big Family

2007-10-25T13:38:00.001+02:00

I have been organizing this trip to N. Africa as sort of a research trip for my church. Our main goal was to go visit this guy named Joe who opened the first Christian bookstore (I'm pretty sure it's the first Christian anything) in N. Africa. So I emailed him asking when we could visit but I had to sort of make my email stealth and not really mention that we were a church or anything because the guy who knows him in our church said that his email is intercepted and read by the government sometimes. So this morning I got an email back from him and it began "Greetings in Jesus' name." I feel like I was just jarred back into reality. Like, I'm still reeling a little bit. This is the life I get to live! I don't have to know a person, but if they are a believer, I can greet them in Jesus' name and know that they are in fact my brother or my sister. How awesome is that!? Like, do you know how big our family is? AHH. I'm excited. I'm excited that people were greeted like that when Paul wrote to churches and that I just got greeted like that 2000 years later. God is unchanging and his church is a rock against which Hell can not prevail!

Different Strokes for Different Folks

2007-10-14T11:43:00.001+02:00

In honor of the seven comments I had on my last blog post, I will post seven different things.

1. One of the things I don't like about Spain is the cereal. It is all nasty. All of it. Except for one kind, Crock Bizz, which is like Smacks in the states but Smacks is too bad for you to eat all the time so I'm stuck with what should be corn flakes and other crap but it's not corn flakes, it's like little pieces of crunchy toasted paper. I love you Crock Bizz and I'm sorry we can't be together. AND I HATE YOU SPANISH CORN FLAKES AND WISH YOU WERE HIT BY A BUS.

2. As some of you know, and as my roomates have experienced, I used to write standup comedy sketches and have preformed them for a very few because they were written in like 9th grade and they're all about my dog and racist people. Well, yesterday, I was walking down the street on the way to the park and I started coming up with new material. I was seriously laughing out loud on the street. I got some looks. Suffice to say, my new material is coming along quite nicely. Man, I'm funny.

3. I'm still eating this cereal and YOU STILL SUCK, CEREAL.

4. So I'm organizing this trip to N. Africa in January as sort of a recon (research) but im gonna call it recon mission to find out who we can serve with in the future and I have a chance to go in the fall with another group of folk and not lead it just to find out where we're going and take notes and stuff and I'm praying about it right now. I don't know whether or not to go, and I don't know if I'll have the money. So pray for that. If I go, I'll miss our big thanksgiving bash which I don't want to miss, but I think that's just selfish. And I'll miss school which I've never complained about before so I don't know if that's a pro or a con. But I don't care about pros and cons, I want to know what the Lord wants so pray, okay? okay.

5. I've decided that even though I'm not married or have children that I have to start making my own holiday traditions. Or just random traditions. I like the tradition me and Amy (my roomate) have right now that just started. Every Sunday afternoon around 2 we go and eat "breakfast" (because we really did just get up although Amy sleeps later than me because it's the only day of the week she can really sleep in because of the construction in our building so she sleeps till like one which is REALLY impressive because i can only sleep till like eleven thirty MAX) anyways, we go eat breakfast at two at this irish pub around the corner where they speak english and actually have a decent breakfast unlike anywhere else ever and it's like a legit irish breakfast (eggs, beans (really good), potatoes, mushrooms, tomatoes, bacon... BETTER THAN THIS FRIGGIN CEREAL) and as we're eating we watch football (the soccer kind) on their tv's cuz there is a game always on, so we're there for like an hour and a half two hours watching sports. sunday tradish.

6. I got a 59 on my business ethics midterm! but he curved it to a C so what does that say about everyone else? And what the crap? It's philosophy. That's like, MY subject. It's my minor. I've never gotten a C in philosophy EVER and now I am ticked. I'm taking the class independent study and so I basically do the readings but don't go to class and get the notes and I understand the reading because again, sixth philosophy class, and whatever, im not going to even justify that grade with a very legit explanation because this is turning into a long post.

7. so the other day I heard again that "Jesus is just a crutch" and you know what our response should be?! YES! He is! But I don't know anyone who doesn't need that crutch. When I am weak, he is strong. That's like the definition of a crutch. Amen to that. Because all of the rest of the crutches in the world like drinking or relationships or pride have GIANT SPIKES on them that stab you in the armpits. But our Crutch isn't like that. They smashed our Crutch and He rose from the DEAD.

Things I want to do when I grow up slash Things I want to do in my life slash Life plans.

2007-10-07T15:37:00.000+02:00

See the title for a brief introduction to this post.
okay.

Someday I want to own a pub and work in it and meet people. This will hopefully be in a european country and maybe in the U.K. although if it's in the U.K. no one will come because who goes to a pub run by an american? Maybe Greece. Or China. I don't know yet.

Someday I want to live on a houseboat in silence. Maybe in silence. I'd like people to come and have parties with me on my houseboat so maybe I'd just be silent when no one was there. At this time I would also like to fish for all my own food and maybe grow some vegetables on board. I think it would be cool to be able to be self sufficient for a while and not have to buy anything. Although I think I would want dsl on my boat. either that or I want to not have the internet and just read all the time.

Someday I want to read all the time.

Someday I want to learn how to fly planes. I would like to know how to build a plane and fly it but if I just have to settle for flying a plane that would be cool too. Not big planes, like little two person ones.

Someday I want to be a mechanic. I already know what a distributor cap is and I think I could change my own oil. But I think it would be cool to be able to fix cars.

Someday I want to have a potato farm. I want to grow potatoes and carrots and radishes and all kinds of things that you can't see the final product until you pull it out of the ground. That would be sweet. I hope my potato farm is in Ireland or Scotland, but I would settle for potatoes anywhere. I would also like a goat or a cow on my farm and maybe some chickens. Maybe a sheep or two. I would also have spare rooms here for people to come and visit and I would make these people good breakfasts. ( I have recently perfected the fried potato or homefry if you will. This may sound like no big deal or an easy thing to master but I consider myself a pretty good cook, and it isn't.)

Someday I want to have like nine kids but I think this one might not be able to happen in time for me to do all the other ones. Maybe it can be when I have the potato farm, but I need to get started on being married soon I think because I don't want to have a bunch of kids in my 40s. Maybe six kids would be good. Anyways, I want a whole gaggle of children at some point.

Someday I want to be a missionary in a closed Muslim country. This will involve learning Arabic which I have already started but have sort of stopped. I think this one will happen in the next couple of years after I leave Madrid. I don't know yet. But, I want to wear a burka for a while.

Someday I want to own a hostel for homeless people. This could happen simultaneously with the pub but I think it would be cool to make friends with some homeless people like some of the ones I have now, and then invite them to come live with me in the hostel so they can find jobs and stop doing drugs and stuff.
(ps. i totally know these guys. they are homeless by "profession." Their signs say "for beer" "for wine" "for weed" and "for cocaine." They're actually pretty nice and have a dog. and a website. Check them out at www.lazybeggars.com. Any time we give them sandwiches they pull out a cardboard sign that says something like "for kind things" or something like that. I don't remember. Kelly?)

I think that's all for now.

Some pictures from Paris

2007-10-03T16:42:00.000+02:00

So Amy took some pictures in Paris- way more than I did because she has a digital camera- and here they are. I won't be posting mine for a while because they're on normal film and I still have to get them developed. Anyways, here are some good ones:

Eiffel Tower, of course.

Le Arc de Triumph (half french half english wooh)

Notre Dame cathedral

my shoes which are too big for me because on of my Freshmen gave me them and apparently when I walk I scuff them because I heard "stop scuffing your shoes" about 19 times. an hour.

By "travelator" they mean conveyor belt. Funny.

Me and the Dayton.

Some stained glass from Notre Dame.

Me probably telling Amy where we should go next.

That is all for now, someday I'll post more of them.

Beauty part deux

2007-09-26T12:05:00.000+02:00

I just got back from visiting AMY DAYTON in Paris- so I had to share all the french I know- which is about "deux" which means two and I'm pretty sure that's all I know except for how to say "I don't speak French" which is Je ne parle pas frances (also probably not spelled right) but its prounounced Jeh Neh Pa"r"le Pa F"r"ancey. Or not. Whatever, French is ridiculous so back to my featured post.

Little Johnny Carlson asked me what I thought about my last post in relation to the beauty of Christ. [For all you other people: see what happens when you reply to my blogs?] So that's what I'm gonna write about in one moment.

*one moment*

I think that all good feelings and happy moments have something to do with our ability to experience God. That's what makes Earth different from Hell. Even people that don't know the Lord can still experience things that I (in my last post) called beautiful. I do believe all good things come from the Lord, who is the author of goodness and beauty. I think that creation is broken, it still bears the mark of its Creator. If it's more complicated than that I haven't figured it out yet.

I think I want to tie this in with evangelism. So here goes...

I think evangelism is most effective when we can point at things that people already think are beautiful and say THAT is from the Lord. The LORD made that. And that's why you feel what you feel and you can feel more of it if you just recognize that that's where it comes from. Not only will you feel more beauty, but the beauty you experience will become redeemed and perfect and pure and anything imperfect (STD's, withdrawal, depression...) that comes with something God made to be enjoyed (artistic expression, nature, sex, friends...) can be cast off of those experiences and you can experience God more fully. And that comes when we let God redeem us first and we get the Holy Spirit and then we see Beauty for who He really is. So let's all evangelize that way. In this postmodern society where people want to "feel" and "experience" stuff, it's important that we point to the source of feeling and beautiful experiences and tie it in with TRUTH. That's all I got. Not bad for a 20 minute post.

If you put an "l" in deux, you get delux.

Beauty

2007-09-18T19:00:00.000+02:00

What is Beauty? I'm in this art history class "Art History of the Renaissance" and it's a question we haven't really asked. I mean, we talk about beauty all the time. We label things as beautiful and less beautiful than that more beautiful one, but what exactly is beauty?

I think it's interesting that you can't really teach someone what is beautiful, or what beauty really is, you just sort of have to show them. You have to show them one thing that is beautiful, and another thing that is beautiful and then you have to figure out what those two things have in common, and that equals beauty. And to add to the equation, beauty isn't just applicable to visual things. You can hear something and say "that sounds beautiful." I think beauty can also be applied to smells too. We might call them delicious or wonderful, but I think it's really that we've found something beautiful about it.

Why is it that some days I feel like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world and other days I feel like I am the literal antithesis of beauty?

You know what I think? I think beauty is an emotion.

I think that something is beautiful when it makes us feel something beautiful. I think when a smell makes us exhale faster just so we can breathe it in again, we feel beauty. I think that when you wish you didn't have to blink so that you could only behold something that much longer, we feel beauty. I think that when you press repeat on your ipod four times to celebrate what you are hearing once again, we feel beauty. I have trouble driving at night in the states when I'm home because I don't have two sets of eyes. It deeply frustrates me that I have to put my eyes back on the road when there are so many stars. That is beauty.

Have there ever been moments when you wanted to curse the fact that you had to eat or sleep or go to the bathroom because it paused or ended a beautiful moment? I think that's why heaven is so appealing.

Nothing will ever end that Beauty.

I can't come up with a good title.

2007-09-12T21:26:00.000+02:00

These last two weeks have been among the busiest of my LIFE. I haven't gotten a free five minutes since I got to Spain. I am glad to be back though. This post isn't about anything in particular, I just feel like I should update you people (whoever you people are) on what's happining. I'm watching Mulan right now. Some day I'd like to go fight in a chinese army.

I'm going to Paris next weekend to visit my old small group leader from high school, Amy Dayton. I am STOKED. I'm hoping to take a lot of black and white pictures. I want to find a really good one of the Eiffle Tower and one of Notre Dame. And I want's some crepes. I'm really really excited. I'm feeling artsy.

So I went to Troy's Theater group on Monday. We read some lines out of 'night, Mother. It's a play about a girl who tells her mother she is going to commit suicide. It was really interesting but I didn't get to read the end. Lisa and this woman named Bea were there. They were both pretty good- but I felt kinda dumb; not because of anything anybody said or did, everyone was encouraging, but I'm really not that comfortable acting. It's weird. It doesn't come naturally to me at all. I thought I'd be good at it actually, because it's about pretending, and I always feel like I'm doing that in my head. But I also realized that to be good at it you sort of have to know how to evoke some emotion. I don't do emotion. I'm gonna go again next week hopefully with a friend or two that have the gift of emoting themselves... but I'm more interested in reading the plays than acting them out. Although, in Troy's defence, he's a good teacher and if anyone could teach me to act, I think it would be him.

Can I just say how much I like Madrid and Oasis and my life sometimes? I'm pretty stoked about it. I can't imagine never having given it over to God to run. I'd probably be working at IHOP.

The Date. Part III.

2007-08-23T04:25:00.000+02:00

Part III. The Phone Call.

Sunday Night. Girl sleeps over Church Lady’s house. Church Lady has known both Boy and Girl since middle school and has discipled Girl for years. Church Lady knows “the Date” is a huge deal.
Girl wakes up with a knot in her stomach. Girl vows to never ask any boy out again ever.
Girl searches through her clothes and realizes that all of them are for summer camp and a missions trip to Mexico. GIRL HAS NOTHING TO WEAR ON DATE. Girl tries on Church Lady’s Daughters’ clothes and text messages pictures of herself to them with giant question marks. Girl tries on everything from skanky tube tops to prom dresses. Girl settles for orange shirt she already had in her suitcase and jeans.
Boy has told Girl that he will call her. Girl knows date is taking place tonight.
It is approaching three o’clock. Girl still doesn’t know when Boy is coming. This almost reminds Girl of Jesus preparing a place for her and she hopes her friends have enough oil and the dragon lady with the heads doesn’t devour the baby and golden gates of pearl....
Girl sits with her cell phone on one side of her and Church Lady’s house phone on the other side of her. Waiting.
Girl discusses with Daughters what time the Date will probably be and what the time means. 6:00 means friendy. 7:00 means datey.
Phone rings.
It is the first time Girl has ever talked to Boy on the phone. Girl stands up and paces the floor because who can talk to Boy sitting down? Plus she’s freaking out.
Boy informs Girl they are double dating with his Sister (other sister that the one Girl spent so much car time with.) and Boy’s Friend #1. Girl is a little relieved.
Boy tells Girl he was thinking about Benihana’s. Girl thinks of an episode of the Office where they go to a Japanese place where they cook the food right in front of you. “That Benihana’s?” Boy informs Girl “yeah.”
Boy asks Girl if 6:30 or 7:00 would be better.
Girl nonchalantly replies “um, seven?”
Boy and Girl chat for a minute then Boy interrupts Girl.
Boy: “Wait..um.. Can I start over?”
Girl: “What? Yeah?”
Boy: “Would you like to go out to dinner tonight with me?”
*Girl flips out inside, but plays it remarkably cool on the phone*
Girl: “Ha, YES!”
Boy and Girl chat a minute more then hang up. Girl has had successful phone conversation with Boy. Church Lady looks at Girl in expectation. Girl re-enacts phone conversation for Church Lady and she gasps and cheers in all the right places. So do Daughters.
Girl goes to take a shower and as she is jumping out, Girl’s awesome Roommate calls her from Spain. Roommate and Girl flip out. Roommate tries to calm Girl down but only succeeds in making her even more nervous even though Girl is greatly thankful for Roommate’s call.
Girl goes downstairs to wait for Boy.
Church Lady runs to the bathroom and informs Girl to not answer the door under any circumstance. Church Lady must open the door to greet Boy.

Girl sits on couch.

The doorbell rings.

Church Lady screams.

*sorry to those who thought this was the ending (Heather), there will be a fourth part. :-)*

The Date. Part II.

2007-08-20T19:18:00.000+02:00

Part II. The Email

Girl emails Boy to inform him that she will be in his vicinity between Summer Camp and Missions Trip for two days. Girl goes off to Summer Camp before hearing from Boy.
Girl is at Summer Camp with all of Boy’s friends and Boy’s Sister.
Everyone knows.
Boy’s Sister upon seeing Girl smiles a “I know what you did” smile. Girl hides behind Bible.
Boy’s Sister informs Girl not to worry and that Boy is “excited.” Girl feels a little better but still like a moron.

After multiple days, Girl musters up the courage to check her email. Boy has emailed Girl. It says so in the Inbox. Girl opens email. Boy asks Girl if double date is okay the Monday after she gets back from Summer Camp. Girl flips out and runs to Boy’s friends, who are also Girl’s friends, to inform them of the successful email conveyance of information.

Girl: “He emailed me back!”
Boy’s Friend #1: “Monday Night?”
Girl: “WHAT?!”
Boy’s Friend #1: “And I already know where you’re going.”
Boy’s Friend #1 leans over to Friend-Boy who conveniently left Girl to talk to Boy in Part 1 of the Date Saga and whispers in his ear.
Friend-Boy: “Nice place. I’m totally gonna show up on your date.”
Girl: “I’ll murder you and your family.”

Girl realizes everyone knows much more about this date than she does. Friggin’ idiots.

Sunday day. Girl rides home from Myrtle Beach to Northern Virginia (9 hours) with Boy’s sister. Girl tries to make funny jokes so it gets back to Boy she is funny. Girl is also a friggin’ idiot.

Part III "The Date" yet to come.

The Date.

2007-08-20T06:02:00.000+02:00

Although a little later than I intended, here it is, The Date story as promised.

Part I. The Question

Eighth Grade. Girl meets Boy. Boy is cute. Girl likes Boy.

Eighth grade through Junior year in college. Girl likes Boy. Boy is still cute. Girl doesn’t talk to Boy much, maybe once a year at camp, and Girl gets distracted every so often by other boys. However, Boy remains backup and underlying distraction to Girl.

This summer. June. Girl goes to mall with Girlfriends and is hanging out at the foodcourt. Girlfriends are intimately familiar with Girl’s fellings toward Boy. One Girlfriend who thinks she’s funny says “LOOK! Is that Boy??” Girl politely informs Girlfriend to shut it and “you’re not even funny.” Girl turns around to see Boy standing across the food court. Girl gets butterflies.
Girl with Girlfriends approaches Boy. Boy says hi to everyone but mostly looks at Girl making her face the color of Tammy Faye’s lips. Girl says bye and kicks herself for not asking for Boy’s phone number. Girl can’t concentrate for two days.

The next night. Girlfriends kidnap Girl and drive past Boy’s house. Girl screams in backseat and hides. Girl lies on Girlfriend’s very plush lawn with Girlfriends, giggles, and laments over her lack of guts to ask Boy out. (Girl knows Boy is afraid of girls and will never ask Girl himself.) Girlfriends think it’s funny to find his picture in their yearbooks and show them to Girl.

The next morning. Sunday. Girl goes to church. In church of 10,000 people, Girl is fully prepared and expecting to not even see Boy. Girl walks in. Boy is standing right there talking to mutual Friend-Boy who knows of Girl’s infatuation. Friend-boy thinks it’s funny to leave Girl to talk to Boy alone.

During Boy’s midsentence about whatever he was talking about, Girl interrupts with “I have two questions”
Girl: “I have two questions.”
Boy: “Uh huh”
Girl: “Do you have a girlfriend?”
*Completely ininterpretable look. Literally a look that a mind reader couldn’t figure out. I’m serious.*
Boy: “Um, no.”
*Weird smirk? Nervous smile? Scared look of pain????? I DON’T KNOW!”*
Girl takes deep breath and realizes she is literally getting dizzy.
Girl: “Blah Blah date Blah Blah imanidiot Blah sometime?”
Boy: “Sure.”
*Awkward Silence*
Boy: “Do you have like a number or something?”
Girl: “No.”
(I’m not exaggerating.)
*More Silence*
Girl loses ability to form words.
Girl: “Blah Don’t Blah Blah cellphone Blah mom’s Blah no charger Blah Blah have.”
Girl realizes what’s happening and that she lives 6 hours away from Boy.
Girl: “Can I email you to tell you when I’m gonna be up here?”
Boy: “Sure. Maybe we can catch a movie or something.”
Girl: “Okay. Bye”
Girl literally runs away. Seriously.

That afternoon Girl drives home five hours with nothing but her thoughts.

Stay tuned for Part II. "The Email."

babysitting

2007-08-04T02:10:00.000+02:00

I love sitting on babies. Here's another picture of my nephew. It's friday night and apparently, this is all I'm good for.

My sister and the bebe

2007-07-16T04:46:00.000+02:00

So, my sister, Kaylee, just had a baby, Malaki. He is very very cute. I have pictures here of her baby shower, which I was going to write about, but I don't really feel like it, so I wont, lots of commas. So, I'll let the pictures speak for themselves. Let me take you on a journey, if you will, through digital imagery.

The Dearly Departed part 2

2007-07-13T14:23:00.000+02:00

I'm going to continue with my regularly scheduled broadcast even though my sister just had her baby!!! I'll give you all the details that I have right now. I'm in New Jersey so I haven't yet seen the little tyke, so we'll all just have to wait for pictures and such. All I have for now is that his name is Malaki Tyler Pitkin and he was born July 12th at 3:26 pm. He weighed 6lbs 5oz and my mom says he's healthy as a little baby horsey. My sister had to have an emergency c-section, but she's recovering fine. I can't wait to see him!! I'm an AUNT!!

Anyways, that seems a bizarre first paragraph to open up this post about my late friend Joey Burch. However, I haven't given his memory justice and I haven't really ever talked about his death to anyone. However weird, I feel like now that I've resolved to just get it over with, I can't put it off any longer, especially because I have no more details than a paragraph's worth about my nephew.

So, to begin. Joey Burch was in my sister's grade. I knew his older brother because he was a year younger than me in school and they went to one of my elementary schools in Virginia. I watched Joey grow up alongside my sister. I remember him as this:

He was seriously the funniest kid I ever met. He was constantly making jokes, constantly messing around, but never really causing trouble. He was really a good kid. He was a freshman in highschool when I left for college and I didn't really ever see him after that, maybe once or twice, but from what I remember then, he was excited about the Lord as well. I went to his youth group every so often because it was close to my house, and I remember him worshiping the Lord.
My friend Phoebe called me one day last summer and told me that Joey had been in a car crash near where I used to live and that he had died. I was shocked. My first reaction was, why Joey? I didn't feel like Joey was expendible enough to be taken that early. Maybe it's because I knew him or that I valued his presence and I knew that other people felt the same. When Joey was in the room, you knew he was there. I thought, surely God would want to keep someone like that around. He was the pastor's son! Surely God had a plan for this kid. Before that, anyone I had known that had died had been old or, forgive me, more boring than Joey Burch.

It was the first time that I realized that I'm not any different than Joey. I really could die tomorrow even though men have made great plans for me. I sometimes think that there's no way I could die before I'm eighty because God has blessed me with a strange uniqueness and that there is no one else like me out there. Then I remember Joey. There is no one like him and the world has suffered a loss. He and his brother Ben were very close and I can't imagine losing my sister. Please pray for Joey's parents and Ben, especially as the one year anniversary of his brother's death, August 5th, approaches. I can't wait to see Joey again and I'm curious to see how his sense of humor has been divinely perfected.

The Dearly Departed part 1

2007-07-11T02:58:00.000+02:00

One of the youth group pastors I had in middle school right after I became a Christian was Dave Cho. He was a really funny Asian guy who was reknowned for his practical joking and Asian jokes. He was a good pastor though. This last semester I found out that he had cancer and that he only had like two months to live. I prayed like everyone else, not really expecting him to die, after all, he had a baby on the way. His fifth child was born just days after he died.

His funeral was supposed to be the day that his wife, Shelbie, had her baby. I was going to miss the funeral because I was at the beach, but because Shelbie was in labor, they postponed the funeral for a little over a week.

I got home on a Friday and on the following Wednesday I drove up to Virginia and I met some of my closest friends under what I wish were different circumstances. It was a bittersweet day. I saw a lot of people I haven't seen in years and was feeling a little guilty because I was enjoying the chance to see so many people I missed in such close proximity. I think funerals suck that way. Why can't we all just get together every so often?

David Cho was a godly man and a godly father, husband and pastor. There were hundreds of people at his funeral. The ripple effect that this man's life had on his community was insane. There were people there from California. There were people who stood up and talked about how Dave brought them to know the Lord and now they were in positions of influence and were still inspired by his passion. His wife didn't speak because she couldn't, but she wrote a letter to everyone about the kind of father and husband that Dave was. I almost lost it. Because Dave knew he was going to die, he recorded a video to be played at his funeral. You can watch it- it's an awesome testimony to never-ending joy in any circumstance. I highly recommend it even if you have no idea who this guy is.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qly_9HETHhs&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fdavidchoproject%2Ecom%2F

I look forward to catching up with Dave someday and I can only hope that my life has as much impact as his still does. Take a minute and pray for his wife Shelbie and his five kids- Abigail (6), Samantha (4), David Jr. (3), Charis (2) and Liam (about a month old.

Things to come...

2007-07-09T15:16:00.000+02:00

Okay guys, get ready.

A LOT of stuff has happened since I've gotten home. And by a lot I mean...

A funeral, a wedding, a babyshower, a first date, summer camp at the beach, a trip to Mexico, a wedding, a broken record, new worries, spiritual development, and a new brother-in-law.

That's only the big stuff. So, for the next two weeks while I'm up here in New Jersey, I will be filling you all in on all the oh-so-very exciting events in my very exciting life. But alas, not today. This is my short intro blog. Say hi short intro blog.

"Hi."

Now that you've all become aquainted, please stay tuned for what I'd like to call "The Here-you-go-you-bunch-of-nosies Series."

And now a word from our sponsors:

Heather tagged me...

2007-05-30T11:42:00.001+02:00

Okay, I'm supposed to post eight random things about myself. Are you ready for this?

1. The only food I crave when I'm in Spain that I can't get here is chicken parmesan subs.

2. Before the last three new Harry Potters have come out, I've re-read the entire series of them, and I plan on doing it again before the last one!

3. When I was little I did baton-cheerleading lessons. I still have my trophy.

4. My favorite drink is unsweetened iced tea.

5. I'm gonna be a bridesmaid in two weddings in the next year- the first two weddings of friends my age.

6. I tried to patent and invention I made and it almost worked. I tried to patent it under new inventions and I should have patented it under improvements on older inventions. I could have redone it but patenting things is expensive, even genious things.

7. I learned to say my alphabet by the time I was 18 months old. I was a child prodegy but stuff caught up in the end and now I'm the same as everybody else.

8. Someday I want to own a pub, live on a houseboat, fly planes, be a missionary in a closed Muslim country, and own a hostel for homeless people. These don't all have to happen at the same time, but I'll let you know as I cross them off my list.

Bad Day

2007-05-16T19:26:00.000+02:00

Disclaimer: This is all part of my new trying-to-be-open-and-honest phase and stop-trying-to-look-sane attitude, so if fury an insanity scare you, skip the following:
I am having a bad day today. I was supposed to go to the beach but God made it clear to me he doesn't want me there through enough ways that I'm not there right now. I feel like a whiny five year old who's about to throw a tantrum because things really aren't going my way lately. Honestly, I feel like I've earned the right to throw a tantrum and that slamming a door or two right now would be completely justified.
And God doesn't seem to want to just tell me what's going on lately. It's like he has this "plan" and he won't share every detail with me. What the heck.
I found out today one of my middle school youth pastors has two months to live and his wife is pregnant with their third baby that is due in a month. That's insane. It's also not fair. It kind of makes me feel like a jerk that I am annoyed that I don't have the money to go to the beach. Seeing things in perspective, I don't have the right to be annoyed about anything ever, which makes me feel like what I'm feeling is stupid which makes it worse.
I didn't really talk about this at all when it happened, but last summer a good friend of mine died. He was 17, my sister's age. I was good friends with his brother- he was the cutest kid. I'm still really upset that he died, and I still haven't really processed that.
I'm going on month 13 of no crying. That's frustrating too because I feel like most of what's happening right now in life is cry-worthy and the fact that I haven't wept over any of it makes me feel calloused and more of a jerk. I feel like if I start crying about stuff I'll open the proverbial floodgates and be a basketcase for about a month. Today and tomorrow were supposed to be days where I let these things just sink in and sit and let the last couple of months catch up with me- I don't think that's actually gonna happen.
I'm also really arbitrarily angry at my dad lately. If there was one time in my whole life that I need him to come through it's right now. And a word out there to all fathers or future fathers or even uncles: If you let your daughter graduate highschool without having convinced her that you think she is the most beautiful creature on earth, you have failed. She'll never think she's beautiful and she'll never believe any guy that tells her she is regardless of whether she is or not. That is your job- that's what fathers are supposed to do. So, if I find out any of your daughters get screwed up because you were a jerk, I'm coming after you.
My dad also thinks it's appropriate lately to call my mom and get her to talk him out of committing suicide. He called her the other day and told her he's going swimming in the Long Island Sound and he might try to just swim to Connecticut. I told her to tell him to swallow his I.D. so they'll know who he is when they find his body. This is the way the Stembokases handle their crap. We let things get so overwhelming that we just throw up our hands and go, I need to go to the beach. Only I wasn't going to swim away. As alarming as it is that my dad threatens to drive off bridges because nobody loves him, none of us take him seriously because he's never followed through with anything in his life; which is also another Stembokas trait that I have inherited, which is also another point of frustration. I have all these plans and aspirations and goals, some of which I've had since middle school, that I've never accomplished and I've gotten to the point where I now expect that anything I set out to do wont happen. I can only accomplish impulsive rash things that I decide to do in two seconds. But if I decide to do it and it takes longer than a day to accomplish, forget about it. Forget about steps or small goals or long processes. I don't have the stamina or the patience to see anything through. Marriage and childrearing should be interesting.
I think that's all for today folks...
Sorry all my blog posts have been whiney and all about me lately, but it's my blog so I'll write what I want.

Why I'm not God.

2007-05-07T18:48:00.000+02:00

Because God always knows what he's doing.
Because I don't.

word vomit

2007-05-05T23:23:00.000+02:00

I was born in New York and I lived in two or three different houses there. When I was four I moved to North Carolina to this brick house that the only thing I remember about was the backyard. Then when my mom threw my dad out we moved into a trailer in a trailerpark in another town. Then after a while we found an apartment above a barber shop- that's where I went to kindergarden. Then after that we moved into an apartment building in another town (another school for me) and my grandma moved in with us for a while. Then, when I had just turned eight (third grade), my parents decided to give it another go because we couldn't afford rent where we were so a little before Christmas I moved away from North Carolina to New York. We were in New York for three months before things went south and I finished off my third grade year in Northern Virginia while living at my grandpa's house.[so that's three different schools, states and houses during third grade if you're keeping track] The next school year I went to a different elementary school than the one in third grade because the other one was full. We moved again the summer of fourth grade to our first house with a yard. I went to a different school in fifth grade. Sixth grade started middle school, so again, I was in a different school and making different friends. In eighth grade we moved again and I went to highschool in ninth grade- granted, same friends, but different town. The summer I graduated highschool my family moved about 20 minutes away, to a new town, and my sister went to a new school. I was in our apartment for two days before I went to college in Spain for the first time. During my whole first semester at school here, I had no idea what our furniture would look like or anything because my family finished moving in while I was on the plane. That freshman Christmas I came home to a house I didn't recognize, an address I couldn't remember, and a phone number none of my friends had. I spent my freshman summer there too, interning with my church. In the beginning of my sophomore year my family moved again to a different town, phone number, house, you name it. I spent Christmas in a new house again. In the spring of my sophomore year my mom and sister made a big move down to North Carolina- this time without me. I mean, I had a room there and stuff but it was the first time I came home to a house I had never seen before to a room I had never slept in and to a town I didn't recognize. My family's been there for about a year now.
All this to say, I'm getting a little stir crazy now that I've been in Madrid for so long and I've had the same friends for three years and they all know all my crap. Today at church I told even more people my crap. You know what? I don't feel any better about things. I feel like I wanna jump on a plane and go anywhere but here. I've been conditioned to feel that way- just look at how I grew up. My reaction upon arriving back to my room after church was "man, why the heck do I talk so much?! Why can't I just keep my flipping mouth shut. I HAVE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE."
I know why I can't keep my flipping mouth shut. Because neither my mom or dad can keep their flipping mouths shut. I come from a family of talkers. It's their fault. It's genetic.
The Lord asked me to do something hard today, and I did it. What's even harder though is doing things with no visible reward and not seeing any benefit at all. You just humiliate yourself in front of thirty people because you want to love Jesus more and you don't even know what that means.
I want something, anything to be different- like to be able to worship more truthfully or to be able to share my faith with a new courage or to be able to hear God's voice more clearly. But instead I just feel weird. And I know it was encouraging for other people and I get a chance to experience grace- not that that stuff isn't important- I just really want to get on a plane and get out of here. It doesn't help that I just had a soda and popcorn for dinner and then a brownie and I've had a lot of sugar today so I'm jittery and I have this headache and bleheihegaek. Life is flipping complicated but at the same time it's so simple. And now, I'm not making any sense so I'm just going to stop typing.

Ants

2007-04-29T14:40:00.000+02:00

I'm having one of those weeks where I feel like I'm watching myself from afar and I can see every single little thing that I do wrong. I feel like every one of my actions is under deep scrutinization by someone with a giant magnifying class. I feel like an ant. I feel there's a beam of white hot light following me everywhere and that I'm cringing in front of it like a kid that know's she's about to get spanked. You know how kids will sort of arch their backs, shoulders up and go "imsorryimsorryimsorryIMSORRYIMSORRY..." That's what I feel like. Except for I'm the ant and the kid with the magnifying glass at the same time. I don't know how that works, but whatever.

Other people don't see these personality flaws that I do because they're deep and usually I come across as a "good person." I hate that phrase. But anyways, I feel like the longer I'm a Christian, the more Christlike I become, but at the same time, the more I notice how deep my sinful nature actually is. It's sort of a paradox. I'm getting better but at the same time I'm seeing how much farther I have to go before being "perfect." It's like I'm walking up this mountain and as I walk up I can more accurately see how high it is. When I started I didn't think I was that far away because the mountain looked small in the distance. Now that I'm on it and walking up, I'm making progress but I realize now that I'll never get there. But I keep going. What am I, insane?

There are also these onlooker ants. And to them, I'm getting higher and higher up the hill and they see me as being so far up the hill I don't have to go any farther. They'd think I was nuts if I told them I have farther to go. They are so far away that, to them, it looks like I'm at the top already. Isn't that weird? But the hill is still so high up.

Then there's God. There's always God, and that get's complicated to throw Him in the mix. He likes that I'm still climbing up the hill and he tells me to keep climing up the hill, because He's at the top, but He's also walking with me up the hill and I couldn't walk up the hill or even be ON the hill if He didn't let me, but every time that magnifying glass starts to singe the hairs off my .. He's like, put the magnifying glass away and I'm like, I can't get up the hill without it because if I don't have it then I don't know which way's up and He's like you're already at the top of the hill and I'm like what the heck are you talking about, don't you see how much farther up there is and He's like yeah I do, it's pretty far, and I'm like but you said I'm at the top and He's like, you are and then I'm like which one is it Troy, then Troy... I mean, the pastor ant, is like "yes" and I'm like AHHHHHH.
Then my old roomate ant is like "Grace!" and I'm like "shut up! Kel.. I mean you stinky ant!" (not that the ant stinks, she smells quite nice, it's just a metaphor) and then I'm left crispy and tired on the mountain looking down and not seeing that much distance and looking up and seeing no end and looking around and seeing other ants that see the distances differently and they look to me like they're all above or below me on the mountain but the Big Ant says that we're all in the same place.

*gasping for air*

Being an ant is complicated.

The King

2007-04-16T23:32:00.000+02:00

Today there were a bunch of shootings at Virginia Tech. I have friends that go there. They're okay, praise God, but at least thirty-three people died. Pray that Satan does not have a victory in this. Pray that more people come to know Christ today than died or have to deal with a friend or family member that died. Pray that God has the last word here.

Stuff like this makes me want Christ to come back now. Everytime I walk past a prostitute or read the headlines or hear that another one of my friends is going to Iraq I'm overwhelmed with the vision of what it could be like if Christ was King- King over everything, and everyone knew who the King was, and people bowed to the King and did what the King said; and they didn't do this because they'd be punished if they didn't, they did it because the King told them that he loved them and that he wanted to know everything about them and have a relationship with them.

Do you realize that if you are a Christian, you have a deep, intimate relationship with a King?

I don't think that we realize what Kings are like because none of us have ever lived under a king's ruling; I certainly haven't. But I do think that we'd think twice before shooting eachother, or hating eachother, or not letting eachother get on the bus or metro first or not saying hi to eachother.

Until Christ comes and is King over everything and nothing is screwed up, we as Christians have a responsibility to make Christ King over EVERY PART of our lives. Christ has named us ambassadors- we're his representatives. If we don't act like Christ and let him reign through us, no one will ever know what He is like- and it will be our fault.
Come Lord Jesus, Come soon, because we are not doing a good job. I am not doing a good job. Either come or change us more fully into you. For your glory. Amen, come Lord Jesus, come.

Passover

2007-04-03T00:15:00.000+02:00

"Holy Sh**, slavery must've fu**ing sucked."
Tonight I went to a Sadyr at one of my Jewish friend's houses. There were a bunch of people there that I know but don't usually hang out with because let's just say their interests are far from mine. But Lee invited me to the Sadyr at his house this year because we've been friends for a while (he's in my year) and last year I told him how I sang Da-Dayenu at the Passover celebration at my church.
Tonight was a reminder for me that people are interested in God still. As I was sitting in the very smoke filled livingroom filled with people excited about Holy permission to drink wine ("thank the Lord of the Vine"), I noticed that in the same room there were Jews, a Japanese kid, a Christian (myself), people who think about God probably once a year, and a Muslim kid who I remember talking about fasting for Ramadan. In the same room. Eating bitter herbs and remarking on how slavery must have effing sucked.
People are still interested in God and I think that God values this kind of dirty honesty and broken, dysfunctional but peaceful gathering more than he values a dead group of "believers."
Pray for Wednesday for us- Jonathan and I are leading "God night" in which we'll be talking about "If God is so good, why do bad things happen to good people/children get abused/1 billion go without drinking water." We're luring students there with free pizza but I hope they'll leave actually fed.

In response to Heather's post.

2007-03-31T12:11:00.000+02:00

Here's some of my handwriting:

Toast

2007-03-20T10:57:00.001+01:00

I love toast.

Daily Bread

2007-03-19T10:53:00.000+01:00

The last Oasis service we had, Warren spoke on the phrase "give us this day our daily bread" in the Our Father (or Lord's Prayer if you're not Catholic). I must say, Warren did a fantastic job, and I was doing powerpoint for him so I got a copy of his notes and I stole them and took them home and reread them. The most convicting part for me was the amount of time I spend every day with God. I'm not spending enough. I don't love the Lord the way I should, and the funny thing is, I really want to- I desire to love the Lord more than anything else, but I don't know how. I pray for that on a regular basis and lately things have been getting harder and worse for me. I think there's a reason for that. God is bringing me to the end of my rope, and he's doing a pretty good job. Much like Paul, my desires and my actions have a hard time matching up. Not that I'm comparing myself to Paul... but it's comforting to know that Paul didn't have it completely figured out either.

Question of the day:
What's your favorite thing about God?

My answer:
I know this is really simple and doesn't do God justice, but He wakes me up when my alarm doesn't go off. It's happened to me more than 10 times, where something will happen to my finicky phone and the alarm will shut off but God always wakes me up ONE MINUTE before it was supposed to go off- just so I know that it was Him. There have also been times where I don't have an alarm with me but I need to get up at a certain time (usually early) and I'll pray about waking up at a specific time, and I'll always wake up right at that time- like down to the exact minute. God is cool that way.

Lots on my mind

2007-03-16T13:54:00.000+01:00

Has there ever been a time in your life where everything seems to happen all in the same month? For some reason this semester is that time for me. The way I cope with it is not a good one. I tend to sleep too much, watch too much tv, spend too much time on the internet, not do the things that I'm supposed to do, even though I like doing them, because it's just "another thing" on my list to do. So instead of being really busy and productive, I have an overwhelming amount of things to do and think about and I end up doing none of them. That's bad. Usually I work pretty well under chaos and pressure, but that's when emotional things are not involved. If I have a lot of stuff to DO then I seem to get it all done and be pretty productive. However, if there are a lot of things happening that I have to mentally process and they are things that I'd rather not think about- I don't DO anything. I just shut myself off from all normal activity until it goes away. This time it isn't going away.
This "defense mechanism" or whatever you want to call it has never not worked before- and it certainly hasn't lasted as long as it has not working. I'm running out of ideas on how to cope. I'm not allowing comments on this post because I don't want any advice. I am going to figure this out on my own, but I could use the prayers. Right now I'm praying that God would give me enough grace to not be lazy and to not be dehabilitated by my thoughts and what's on my mind. Sleep and mindless activity is taking over my life. God needs to re-take it over. That's always hard because when God takes it over I become much more aware of everything that is happening to me, my own sin, my family, my school, basically my own inadequacy to do ANYTHING and I tend to be right where I started, which is overwhelmed. Anyways, I wasn't planning on writing any of this, it sorta just came out, I wanted to post something because I feel bad that the Candirú post comes up when you click on my blog. At least all of my problems are mental and I don't have a Candirú stuck in my butt.

The Worst Way to Die

2007-03-12T17:03:00.001+01:00

I haven't had a lot to write about recently, then all of a sudden lots of things fall in my lap. Of all the things that have happened recently, I think the following is the most interesting.

Today in my class "Environment and Development in Latin America," we were talking about the dangers of the Amazon. Among those named were things like the wild boar, palm fronds (really heavy apparently and can gouge your eye out if it falls while you are looking up) and the Candirú.
The Candirú is a type of fish that lives in the Amazon River and is about six centemeters long. It is attracted to human and animal waste. The Candirú, as soon as it smells said waste, will travel in the direction that the waste is coming from until it can't travel no more, if you get my drift. Then it will shoot out these spiney things and attach itself to its host. EW. It can only be removed by surgery.
In my opinion, this is officially the grossest thing ever. I'm really skeeved out.

Sad article on the BBC

2007-02-17T21:57:00.000+01:00

I came across this really interesting article on the BBC website and it's quite sad. It's worth reading though.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/6370991.stm

Hymn #20

2007-01-30T20:13:00.000+01:00

I got the coolest thing ever the other day from my friend Joanna Sneller. She sent me a hymn book- it's really old and leather bound and it has a publication date of 1916, so it's really old. I've been reading through it and I've come across some really amazing hymns and I wanted to write one on here. I don't know the author because it doesn't say, so here it is:

At even ere the sun was set,
The sick, O LORD, around Thee lay;
Oh, in what divers pains they met!
Oh, with what joy they went away!
Once more 'tis eventide, and we
Oppress'd with various ills draw near;
What if They Form we cannot see?
We know and feel that Thou art here.

O Savior Christ, our woes dispel;
For some are sick, and some are sad,
And some have never loved Thee well,
And some have lost the love they had;
And some have found the world is vain,
Yet from the world they break not free;
And some have friends who give them pain,
Yet have not sought a friend in Thee;

And none, O LORD, have perfect rest,
For none are wholly free from sin;
And they, who fain would serve Thee best,
Are conscious most of wrong within;

O Saviour Christ, Thou too art Man;
Thou hast been troubled, tempted, tried;
Thy kind but searching glance can scan
The very wounds that shame would hide;
Thy touch has still its ancient power;
No word from thee can fruitless fall;
Hear, in this solemn evening hour,
And in Thy mercy, heal us all.

My thoughts on thought

2007-01-23T20:14:00.000+01:00

In the 17th century there was a scientific revolution. Newton and Galileo might ring some bells. Science, instead of religion or tradition or literature, became the model for "knowing" things. Philosophers began to apply this model to philosophy; and instead of logic or fancy thought progressions, Science became the basis on which philosophers of the time (Descartes, Leibniz, Locke, Hume...) based their theories on how we can "know."

There were two camps of philosophic thought at this time. There were the Continental Rationalists, who asserted that rational intuition must be the basis of knowledge. These were the philosophers who used math and reason to reach conclusions. They invented calculus. They are famous for the phrase "I think, therefore I am."
The other camp of philosophers were called the British Empirialists. They claimed that our knowledge must be based on the intuitions we made from our senses. Abstract reasoning and experimentation based on what we saw or heard or felt would lead us to what is true.

These two camps of thought at one particular thing in common. There was a firm foundation of knowledge. One could extrapolate other theories and hypotheses using inference, but all true theories and all solid ideas came from either a firm foundation of mathamatics or reasoning based on the senses. Bear with me, I'm almost to my main idea.

The idea that there is a firm foundation of knowledge insists that there is at least one true thing that we can know and that all of our other knowledge will come from that one particular thing. If we know that gravity works the way it does, or addition and subtraction work the way they do, and we treat this as TRUTH, the rest of physics and advanced math will follow.

Empiricism and this Continental Rationalism have been seen as massive failures in light of postmodernism. Philosophers now assert that sense experience is unreliable and cannot be a firm foundation for what "is" and neither can math or reasoning. Philosophers now insist that the biggest mistake any thinking person can make is to believe that there is a foundation for truth or thought. We aren't supposed to hold anything as "true" and work from there. There is nothing that is true and there is no foundation. The biggest fallacy in modern philosophy is this foundationalist theory.

Now to my point.

This is a load of crap.

My question to my philosopy teacher after going over this today was this:
Me: If we don't have a foundation for knowledge, and are not trying to find a foundation for knowledge then how do we know what anything else we find out, or think we know, is true?
Him: That is a good question... (long pause)... Well, the short answer is that we are trying to find out what most likely will be true or what is most probably true. But we can't say that we have a foundation for knowledge in a particular area or theory because we don't know enough yet....

Again. Load. Of. Crap.

My question remains- Even if we are hoping to find something that is the most probable or most likely to be true, shouldn't we still have some concept of truth? If we are trying to find out how probable it is that the bus will come on time, don't we have to know the bus schedule, and that the bus has come before?

Sorry for the following rant. If you are a postmodernist please skip over.
I am so sick and tired of people saying that we can't know anything for sure. "False" -Dwight Schrute. "We have educated ourselves into stupefaction."- Ravi Zaccharias. Not even my philosophy professor, who has a doctorate in philosophy can explain how we can even do anything with out some sort of foundation. If we don't have a foundation for knowledge, then what is the point on which we can jump off into other regions of thought and theory. If we don't know for certain that the earth is round, what are we doing exploring the rest of space?

My point is this: No one will ever know anything true about anything if the foundation of that knowledge is false. If our foundation is false, that which is built upon it may make sense in relation to the foundation BUT IF THE FOUNDATION IS FALSE SO ARE ALL THE RIDICULOUS THEORIES. To know anything, we must know something first.

To know anything, we must know something first.

it tastes shiny.

2007-01-16T14:16:00.000+01:00

It's been a while since I've posted so I feel like I owe it to someone to post. The problem is that I don't have anything to say. So, I will tell you irrelevant details about my life in hopes that maybe someday, maybe, I'll be famous. Not really. So, without further ado, useless information:

My grocery list so far:
Vinegar, Salt, Pepper, Bread, Fruit and Sweetener

My biggest concern right now:
What to make for community group tomorrow night. I cant think of ANYTHING. Bummer.
Any suggestions?

Today I went to this Karate place on my block to ask them about what their deal is- and most of their classes are at night so I'm not sure it will work out because I need morning classes but I might try it. Did you know that I am a green belt in Tae Kwon Do? HAAAYAAA!

What I really want right now:
Clams

A food that I like raw but not cooked:
Carrots, although I'll eat them cooked. Cooked and cold isn't too bad- like on falafel. But raw carrots far surpass cooked ones.

Things I'm doing for the rest of the day:
Going food shopping; going to class (with scary, intimidating teacher); hanging out with perhaps the coolest girl ever, Amy M. Swaceeeena.

Ending Credits:
Producer- Victoria Stembokas
Director- Victoria Stembokas
Film editor- Victoria Stembokas
Main Actress- Victoria Stembokas (why is it not pc to say actress anyway?)
Makeup for Miss Stembokas- Victoria Stembokas
Stunts- Victoria Stembokas and Hammy
Sound- Victoria Stembokas
Victoria Stembokas inc. would like to specially thank Victoria Stembokas Shoes and Victoria Stembokas leather and Victoria Stembokas Convertibles. Also, a very special thanks to Victoria Stembokas.

(insert little symbols here)

Victoria Stembokas Productions

My Sister in front of the Christmas Tree:

2006-12-28T17:12:00.000+01:00

Hi! It's been a while. I hope everyone had a really good Christmas. I did. Usually my Christmasses are dysfunctional and not exciting, but this year was an exception. Here's a picture of my sister sitting in front of our Christmas tree and biting something to get it open- this is her usual position. She bites things.

So there you have it. I'm still alive, and I'm coming back to Madrid on the 9th of January.
Happy New Years!

And the new double 0 is...

2006-12-04T18:47:00.000+01:00

MARIANNA!!!

In an impressive show of code breaking skillz and genius, Marianna has conquered what could possibly someday come to be known as the hardest riddle of all time. Well done Marianna, or should I say, DOUBLE 0! As for the rest of you, I hope I'm never trapped in a box that requires a code to be opened because I'd be there until double 0 herself could fly over and rescue me.

Well done.

How can I make snow orange?

2006-12-03T20:51:00.000+01:00

I don't normally look at my own blog but today, since no one I know has really updated lately *amy* I decided to look at my own to see if I had updated (I hadn't) and I noticed that the green color on my blog was quite boogery. So I have found a less boogery color. Black- except sometimes when it gets polluted in Madrid...

Anyways, I'm approaching the last week of school and can feel the loomingness of all of the work that I've procrastinated on. I'm going home for Christmas though- which is exciting. I am NOT excited though about the fact that it doesn't snow in North Carolina. This is very upsetting for me. Everyone have pity. The midwest just got dumped on and Madrid doesn't get snow so I feel like everyone in the WORLD is having FUN except for ME. My favorite color is still orange.

I think the coolest thing of all time is if it would snow orange snow. HOW FREAKING COOL WOULD THAT BE? I'm gonna make a gingerbread house with orange snow when I get home and then maybe put up a picture. Or something. I dont really know. So. I read Don Quijote this semester almost in its entirety (I still have about 60 pages, but out of 900- I think that counts as done.) I think I'm going to encode some hidden message in this post. If you can find it, Cheers to you and you get a thousand points. It'll be difficult, but I just watched the new James Bond last night so I feel like someone will be able to figure it out.

Here's a riddle to help you get started.
1. There are 24 letters in a phrase of 6 words but if you use a hyphen, there are only 5 words.
2. Word one: fourth word of post backwards.
3. My old roomate starts an anagram of the second word.
4. One Jewish talent equals X pounds. The Xth word in the post is the third word.
5. fourth word: rhymes with stake and begins with the letter of one of the places I mention.
6. I use the fifth word five times in this blog.
7. the sixth word is scrambled together with another irrelevant word that hasn't been used in my post.
The scramble is: ADEEGNOOPRRW
To make things easier, the irrelevant word begins with a P and ends with an R.

Good luck double 0's. The first person to figure out my riddle will be called double 0 by me for at least a week. and that will make anyone cooler.

I have nothing intelligent to say.

2006-11-20T00:19:00.000+01:00

I usually wait to blog until I have some deep insight or interesting story. However, I have none of that. Today was a fairly normal day. Most of my days are fairly normal. I think it would be interesting to do an experiment on what one person's conception of normal was versus another's. Namely, I wonder if my normal days would put other people in a mental institution? I think they would.
I think I have an abnormally high chaos tolerance. Things don't seem to ruffle my feathers until long after other people have knocked out and been carried out of the ring. When most people would just dematerialize, I think I could still function if I was in a room with 1000 Jim Macnamees and 6000 Nic Cadys and some slingshots and a Cirque de Solei. I believe that certain things happen to you as a child and grow you into a certain person so that you can be equipped for the things you were made for. I'm beginning to wonder, if so far has only been a preparation, what the stinking heck is coming next.
While I'm at it: I think as soon as I am certain about something, it changes. That's why I'll never win the lottery. Every time I play it, no matter how hard I try to delude myself, there's always that thought in the back of my mind, what would I spend it on? And as soon as that thought materializes, I have lost. Doesn't even matter if the numbers have come up yet. As soon as I started bragging about not ever getting pulled over, I got two tickets. I've learned to stop telling people that I have never been robbed in Madrid. I've started to learn that being sure about something is dangerous, and I don't know if that's good or bad.

today

2006-10-29T23:11:00.000+01:00

im frustrated. i have so much work to do and absolutely no motivation. its just one of those days i wish i could start over.

What happens when I get tired and start thinking about deep issues.

2006-10-23T00:03:00.000+02:00

Every so often I'll get a song stuck in my head for a couple of days. This weekend it was this song by John Reuben.

Taught young
The world's wisdom:
I was told life's a game, the earth will be your stadium.
Be alert, pay attention,
One day even your friends will become the competition.
Trust no one.
But do remember this:
Never burn any potential bridges.
Know who's who,
and what they can do for you,
and dont feel bad cuz in the end they're gonna do it to you too,
remember life's not fair.
In order to maintain
you're gonna have to let your sensitivities be trained-
a machine,
more than a human being,
what you say doesn't always have to be what you mean.
Tell them what they want to hear, if it's to your benefit,
and words behind closed doors are insignificant.
Push yourself.
Never be satisfied-
Even if you don't get it, at least you died knowing you tried.

I've been thinking. What if I actually lived according to the value God places on me instead of the value people place on me? What if people put more value on God's opinion of things? What if pretty really didn't matter? I feel like I pick and choose which "Christiany" things I do and don't want to do. Do I really need to watch tv? Do I really even need to be in college? Do I need to decorate my room/ download more music/ buy myself dumb souvineirs/ go to the movies? Is having a purposeless conversation wrong? Why do I have a mirror in my room? Are these things products of the fall? Are they things we ignore? Have I gone overboard? Should we all go overboard? What is the cost of purposelessness?

I don't know.

My Ruminations on Comfort

2006-10-17T23:15:00.000+02:00

I think the thing towards which everyone in the world strives is comfort. I think this is why people think they exist. Especially in America right now, people strive towards well being with no goal beyond itself. When people are comfortable, they are happy. When people are not comfortable, they are not happy. If anyone can think of an exception to this rule, please inform me immediately, because my whole theory on life will have been smashed to pieces.
My theory on comfort, we'll call it my Comfort Hypothesis, has some corollaries.
Corollary #1:
Uncomfort was a product of the fall. Not only was it a product of the fall, but it was the first and primary feeling felt after it. Adam and Eve felt naked, and therefore tried to clothe themselves. You don't sew fig leaves together because you have nothing else to do... you sew fig leaves together because you think "I didn't feel naked and uncomfortable before, I'm going to try to fix my uncomfort." I mean, in real life, they were probably thinking "oh crap" but I'm expounding on the meaning of crap. okay? okay.
Corollary #2:
Since uncomfort was a natural product of the fall, it will not leave until we are not on earth. Uncomfort wasn't like sin, where it can be removed by Christ. Uncomfort was like disease- just because Christ died for our sins, we will not cease to get sick. Uncomfort was not "conquered" like sin and death were. Feeling uncomfort is not bad like committing acts against God's nature or will are. Feeling uncomfort is normal and acceptable and sometimes demanded by God (see c#3). Our goal as Christians is not to rid the world of uncomfort and ooky feelings.
Corollary #3:
If uncomfort was caused by the fall (#1) and not something we are trying to defeat (#2), then God will naturally use uncomfort for good, for His Glory and His Purpose. This is the nature of God. God is redeeming the world by using the natural products of sin and the fall for his benefit, or else he would've destroyed the world "in the beginning" and not made the effort of undoing sin.

My point:
We do not exist to make ourselves comfortable. We do not exist to make money, we do not exist to soley procreate and we do not exist to make other people like us.
We exist for God.
The price we must pay to follow God is the price of comfort. It's difficult to wait for support to role in. It's difficult to wonder where your next paycheck is going to come from. It's difficult to be surrounded by people who don't like you even if it's their problem and not yours. It is really difficult to go for a year without seeing your family because you are called to a country thousands of miles away.
God uses this uncomfort to make us more like him. He uses uncomfort to mold us into people who follow his rules and His Spirit's leading instead of our own stomachs. Until we forfeit comfort for the sake of Christ, we will never be effective. We cannot be both comfortable on the verge of breakthrough. We cannot be both comfortable and revolutionary. We cannot be both comfortable and in complete reliance.

Now, here inlies the rub. When we are in complete reliance on God, when we are alone in our revolution, when we are starving, injured, in jail, and lonely, guess who is there with us? Praise God, the Comforter! All of a sudden, we experience a new kind of comfort! It is not a comfort of which the world knows, nor one it would even recognize as comfort- it is a comfort that transcends worldly comfort. All of a sudden, God's comfort makes the world's comfort irrelevent. It shouldn't even be the same word. Amen.

Why it takes so long for me to post.

2006-10-15T17:47:00.000+02:00

I'm writing my life story. Stay tuned.

Consolacion

2006-09-23T01:42:00.000+02:00

The old woman uses a cane to support her four foot eleven inch frame. She has a string tied around her neck to support the cardboard plate she holds out for change. She never looks up; her black, hunched-over, tiny silouette is unmistakable from a distance. She never looks up. Until today.

"Hola Consolacion, we have food for you."

The old woman lifted her eyes to those of the younger woman addressing her. She hadn't heard someone call her by name in so long. The majority of people treat her like they treat every other begger... like she isn't there. The most beautiful smile I have ever seen spread across her sun-weathered, wrinkly face. Ripples like brown waves formed on her forehead, around her mouth, and seemed to stop abruptly at her hairline around her eyes- eyes that were wide with surprise and joy. Her smile showed every tooth she had, although half were missing, and you could see her tongue prodding around her mouth to form words. She reached up her tiny arm, forgetting for a second about the tray of coins she was holding, and grabbed the young woman's head in an attempt to kiss her face.

The two women talked and in the distance people sneered.

"Look at them," Consolacion said, pointing her finger into the crowd. "They stare at us as if we're doing something wrong... ASSHOLES!"

The young woman tried to hold back the laughter. She still isn't used to old women with Mother-Teresa-esque features shouting profanities. A lot of times the only thing she can do is laugh. The only other option is to cry.

Perspective

2006-09-03T18:14:00.000+02:00

The following excerpt was taken from www.wholesomewords.org. It is the biography of David Livingstone, and I was going to edit some of the longer parts out but I can't find anything that unimportant- I put some parts in bold that I thought were pertinant to the end of this post. It's long but it's good.

David Livingstone
by Robert E. Speer

In Westminster Abbey the visitor, wandering about studying the monuments and inscriptions, comes in the middle of the nave upon a large black slab set in the floor bearing these words:
BROUGHT BY FAITHFUL HANDS
OVER LAND AND SEA HERE RESTS
DAVID LIVINGSTONE,
MISSIONARY,TRAVELLER,PHILANTHROPIST,
Born March 19, 1813,
At Blantyre, Lanarkshire.
Died May 1, 1873,
At Chitambo's Village, Ulala.

On the right border of the stone is a Latin sentence and along the left border:
"OTHER SHEEP I HAVE WHICH ARE NOT OF THIS FOLD:
THEM ALSO I MUST BRING, AND THEY SHALL HEAR MY VOICE."

This is the resting-place of the body, but not of the heart, of the Scotch weaver lad who went out from his simple home an unknown lad and died as one of the greatest and most honored of men.

From his earliest childhood he was of a calm, self-reliant nature. We are told by his best biographer that "it was his father's habit to lock the door at dusk, by which time all the children were to be in the house. One evening David had infringed this rule, and when he reached the door it was barred. He made no cry nor disturbance, but, having procured a piece of bread, sat down contentedly to pass the night on the doorstep. There, on looking out, his mother found him... At the age of nine he got a New Testament from his Sunday-school teacher for repeating the 119th Psalm on two successive evenings with only five errors, a proof that perseverance was bred in the bone."

At the age of ten he went to work in the cotton factory as a piecer, and after some years was promoted to be a spinner. The first half-crown he earned he gave to his mother. With part of his first week's wages he bought a Latin textbook and studied that language with ardor in an evening class between eight and ten. He had to be in the factory at six in the morning and his work ended at eight at night. But by working at Latin until midnight he mastered Virgil and Horace by the time he was sixteen. He used to read in the factory by putting the book on the spinning-jenny so that he could catch a sentence at a time as he passed at his work. He was fond of botany and geology and zoology, and when he could get out would scour the country for specimens. On one expedition he and his brother caught a big salmon, and, to conceal the fish, which they had no right to take, they put it in his brother's trousers leg and so got it home.

When he was about twelve he began to have serious thoughts about deeper things, but not till he was twenty did the great change come which brought into his life the strength of the consciousness of his duty to God. Feeling "that the salvation of men ought to be the chief desire and aim of every Christian," he made a resolution "that he would give to the cause of missions all that he might earn beyond what was required for his subsistence." But at twenty-one he read an appeal by Mr. Gutzlaff on behalf of China, and from that time he sought himself to enter the foreign mission field, influenced by "the claim of so many millions of his fellow creatures and the want of qualified missionaries." So he went out from his home to follow the advice of old David Hogg, one of the patriarchs of the village: "Now, lad, make religion the every-day business of your life, and not a thing of fits and starts; for if you do, temptation and other things will get the better of you."

China was the land to which Livingstone wished to go, but the opium war prevented his doing so at once. About the same time he came into contact with Dr. Robert Moffat, who was then in England creating much interest in his South African mission. He told Livingstone of "a vast plain to the north where he had sometimes seen, in the morning sun, the smoke of a thousand villages, where no missionary had ever been," and it was not long before the young Scotch student decided for Africa. Livingstone was thorough in his preparation, as he was in all things. He determined to get a medical as well as a theological education. To do it he had to borrow books, to earn his own way, and to live with the closest economy, paying about fifty-cents a week for the rent of his room. The first time he tried to preach he entirely forgot his sermon, and saying, "Friends, I have forgotten all I had to say," he hurried out of the pulpit and left the chapel. One of his acquaintances of those days wrote, years after, that even then his two strongest characteristics were simplicity and resolution. "Now after forty years," he adds, "I remember his step, the characteristic forward tread, firm, simple, resolute, neither fast nor slow, no hurry and no dawdle, but which evidently meant -- getting there."

On December 8, 1840, he sailed for Africa, going out by way of Brazil and the Cape of Good Hope. The captain of the ship taught him the use of the quadrant and how to take observations. He was to find good use for this knowledge. Arriving at the Cape, he went on to his first station, Kuruman, but he had no thought of staying there or of working in any fixed groove. He was thinking of new plans, and, above all, his eyes were turned northward toward the great region absolutely untouched and unknown. The first period of his work might be roughly marked as from 1840 to 1852. From Kuruman he made several trips deeper into the country, and had some of those experiences with lions of which he was to have so many.

On one trip he broke a finger, and when it was healing broke it again by the recoil of a revolver which he shot at a lion which made him a sudden visit in the middle of the night. Some of his trips were in ox-wagons and some on ox-back. "It is rough traveling, as you can conceive," he wrote. "The skin is so loose there is no getting one's greatcoat, which has to serve both as saddle and blanket, to stick on; and then the long horns in front, with which he can give one a punch in the abdomen if he likes, make us sit as bolt upright as dragoons. In this manner I traveled more than four hundred miles." His investigations were undertaken on his own responsibility. He wrote home to ask the directors of the London Missionary Society to approve, but if they did not, he said, he was at their disposal "to go anywhere, provided it be forward."

He soon left Kuruman to locate at Mabotsa, and it was there that a lion nearly killed him, tearing his flesh and crushing the bone in his shoulder. A native diverted the attention of the lion when his paw was on Livingstone's head. When asked once what he thought when the lion was over him, Livingstone answered: "I was thinking what part of me he would eat first." When years later his body was brought home to England it was by the false joint in the crushed arm that it was identified. To avoid friction at Mabotsa, Livingstone, who had just built a house and laid out a garden, but who would quarrel with no one, gave up the station and went on with the daughter of Robert and Mary Moffat, the great missionaries of South Africa, whom he had just married, and established a new station at Chonuane. But there was no water there, so he moved again to Kolobeng, on the river of that name, and the whole tribe among whom he lived moved with him.

Kolobeng was unhealthful, and far beyond it stretched the vast unknown interior. Something in Livingstone's heart told him to go on. So on he went. On August 1, 1849, he discovered Lake 'Ngami, a body of water so big that he could not see the opposite shore. And, later, he found the River Zambezi. The lake was 870 miles from Kuruman across a desert. He must find a passage to the sea on either the west or the east coast. "Providence seems to call me to the regions beyond," he wrote, and he heard ever more loudly the call of God to strike at the awful slave traffic. But what should he do with his wife and children? The only course was to send them home to Scotland. So, hard as it was, he took them to Cape Town in March, 1852, the whole party appearing out of the interior in clothes of curious and outworn fashions, having been eleven years away from civilization, and in April he parted from his family and turned back into the darkness.

Before he reached Kolobeng the Boers had attacked and destroyed that station. With all ties to any one place now broken, he started north, and in June, 1853, reached Linyanti, fifteen hundred miles north from the Cape. It was a hard and dangerous journey, part of it made with fever, through swamps and thickets and water three or four feet deep. "With our hands all raw and bloody and knees through our trousers, we at length emerged. But, as he wrote in his journals on the way, "if God has accepted my service, then my life is charmed till my work is done ... I will place no value on anything I have or may possess, except in relation to the kingdom of Christ. If anything will advance the interests of that kingdom, it shall be given away or kept only as by giving or keeping of it I shall most promote the glory of him to whom I owe all my hopes in time and eternity. May grace and strength sufficient to enable me to adhere faithfully to this resolution be imparted to me, so that in truth, not in name only, all my interests and those of my children may be identified with his cause ... I will try and remember always to approach God in secret with as much reverence in speech, posture, and behavior as in public. Help me, thou who knowest my frame and pitiest as a father his children." Evidences of the curse of the slave-trade multiplied constantly, and he saw more clearly at Linyanti that both for the suppression of that traffic and for the expansion of the missionary work it was necessary to open up the continent.

Accordingly, on November 11, 1853, he started westward for the Atlantic Ocean, and on May 31, 1854, came out at Loanda, about two hundred miles south of the mouth of the Congo. He had thirty-one attacks of fever on the way. He must find and make his own road. The floods and rains kept him almost constantly wet. Savages opposed him. He had no white companions. He arrived ragged and worn and exhausted, to find no letters from home waiting for him. An ordinary man would have felt that he had done enough and would have started for home, but not Livingstone. He plunged back into Africa and went eastward across the continent. He left Loanda, September 24, 1854, and reached Quilimane, on the opposite side of Africa, on May 20, 1856. On the way he became nearly deaf from fever and nearly blind from being struck in the eye by a branch of a tree in the forest. On this trip he discovered the great Victoria Falls, higher and fuller than Niagara, and he had yet more exciting times with savage tribes, whom, as always, he found a way to placate. From Quilimane he sailed for England, arriving August, 1856. At Cairo he learned of the death of his old father, who had longed to see him once again.

He got a tremendous welcome home. The Scotch weaver lad who had been all alone in Africa found himself the great hero of the day in Scotland and England. He was received by the men of science, by the Queen and the royal family, by all friends of humanity. He was given the freedom of the cities of London, Edinburgh, and Glasgow, and honors of the Universities of Glasgow, and Oxford, and Cambridge. Unspoiled by all the flattery, he left England to return to Africa on March 10, 1858, going out now to Quilimane as British consul for the east coast and interior of Africa. As he sailed, he wrote back to his son, Tom:

"London, 2nd February, 1858. -- My Dear Tom: I am soon going off from this country, and wilt leave you to the care of him who neither slumbers nor sleeps, and never disappointed any one who put his trust in him. If you make him your friend, he will be better to you than any companion can be. He is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. May he grant you grace to seek him and to serve him. I have nothing better to say to you than to take God for your Father, Jesus for your Savior, and the Holy Spirit for your sanctifier. Do this and you are safe forever. No evil can then befall you. Hope you will learn quickly and well, so as to be fitted for God's service in the world."

"Pearl, in the Mersey, 10th March, 1858. -- My Dear Tom: We are off again, and we trust that he who rules the waves will watch over us and remain with you, to bless us and make us blessings to our fellow men. The Lord be with you, and be very gracious to you! Avoid and hate sin, and cleave to Jesus as your Savior from guilt."

It was six years before Livingstone returned again to England. During this time he explored the Zambezi and the Shire rivers, making his way about among the people, whatever the difficulties, always with success, because he knew how to win and keep their confidence and love by being himself ever truthful, ever fearless. Mrs. Livingstone returned with him to Africa on this trip, and died on April 27, 1862, at Shupanga, where she was buried, and her husband went on alone to Lake Nyasa, making unwearied explorations, surmounting the obstacles of nature and bad men, and learning ever more and more about the iniquity of the trade in slaves.

In 1864 he went to India and thence to England for the last time. While there he learned of the death of his son Robert, who fought on the Northern side in the American Civil War and lies buried at Gettysburg, and his mother also died while he was on his way. He got home in time to fulfil her wish that one of her laddies should lay her head in her grave. He had another crowded year, which included the writing of a book, as his previous visit had done, and then with the last public words in Scotland, "Fear God and work hard," he returned to Africa to open up the unknown eastern interior. This time his connection was with the Royal Geographical Society. For the first six years he explored eastern equatorial Africa, discovering new lakes, rivers, and mountains, exposing the slave-trade, suffering, struggling, but never yielding. One Christmas he writes "Took my belt up three holes to relieve hunger." He had no white companion, and in 1866 the report reached Zanzibar that he had been killed.

This story was found to be false, but still no white man had seen Livingstone for a long time. He was not seeking to be seen, however. In the dark of the interior, all alone, hungry and weary, he was pressing on to open new country and to insure the future freedom of poor and oppressed peoples. In 1871 he was reduced to the last straits, all the goods sent to him at Ujiji having been sold by the rascal Shereef to whom they had been consigned; but just then Henry M. Stanley, who had been sent by the New York Herald to find him, came to him after a long search, bringing him ample stores. What impression he made on Stanley, Stanley himself has told us:

"I defy any one to be in his society long without thoroughly fathoming him, for in him there is no guile, and what is apparent on the surface is the thing that is in him. ... Dr. Livingstone is about sixty years old, though after he was restored to health he looked like a man who had not passed his fiftieth year. ... You may take any point in Dr. Livingstone's character and analyze it carefully, and I would challenge any man to find a fault in it. ... His is the Spartan heroism, the inflexibility of the Roman, the enduring resolution of the Anglo-Saxon -- never to relinquish his work, though his heart yearns for home; never to surrender his obligations until he can write finis to his work."

Refreshed by Stanley's visit and the supplies he brought, Livingstone turned inland again, hunting for the source of the Nile and fighting the slave trade. The iron frame had been taxed almost to its limit, however, and ever fresh difficulties had to be overcome. His last birthday, March 19, 1873, found him very weak.

"The 29th of April was the last day of his travels. In the morning he directed Susi to take down the side of the hut that the kitanda might be brought to him, as the door would not admit it, and he was quite unable to walk to it. Then came the crossing of a river; then progress through swamps and plashes; and when they got to anything like a dry plain he would ever and anon beg of them to lay him down. At last they got him to Chitambo's village, in Ilala, where they had to put him under the eaves of a house during a drizzling rain, until the hut they were building should be got ready.

"Then they laid him on a rough bed in the hut, where he spent the night. Next day he lay undisturbed. He asked a few wandering questions about the country -- especially about Luapula. His people knew that the end could not be far off. Nothing occurred to attract notice during the early part of the night, but at four in the morning the boy who lay at his door called in alarm for Susi, fearing that their master was dead. By the candle still burning they saw him, not in bed, but kneeling at the bedside with his head buried in his hands upon the pillow. The sad yet not unexpected truth soon became evident: he had passed away on the farthest of all his journeys, and without a single attendant. But he had died in the act of prayer -- prayer offered in that reverential attitude about which he was always so particular; commending his own spirit, with all his dear ones, as was his wont, into the hands of his Savior; and commending Africa -- his own dear Africa -- with all her woes and sins and wrongs, to the Avenger of the oppressed and the Redeemer of the lost."

His faithful African companions prepared his body for transportation to the coast, burying his heart and other organs at the foot of a mvula tree in Ilala, which is now marked with a rough inscription. The body they carried to Zanzibar. Thence it was taken to England and buried in the Abbey under the great slab which bears his name...

(Copied by Stephen Ross for WholesomeWords.org from Servants of the King [by] Robert E. Speer. New York: Eaton & Mains, 1909.)

After having read this I came upon this quote from David Livingstone himself, which I will end the post with.

"I never made a sacrifice. We ought not to talk of 'sacrifice' when we remember the great sacrifice which He made who left His Father's throne on high to give Himself up for us."

Kind of puts things in perspective, doesn't it?

Doubt

2006-08-28T15:37:00.000+02:00

I think all Christians doubt. If you are a Christian and you don't doubt, I'd like to meet you and pick your brain. Despite all the evidence I've seen in my life and in other's lives, I still sometimes have the gnawing thought at the back of my head that maybe I'm wrong and there isn't more to life than being born, procreating and dying.

I have been reading through Matthew and studying it in depth, verse by verse, for the last couple of months. I found something in chapter 11 that caught my attention:
(verse 2 and 3) "And when John (the baptist) heard in prison about the works of Christ, he sent two of his disciples and said to Him, 'Are you the Coming One, or do we look for another?'"

Keep in mind that by this time John the Baptist had already baptised Jesus and was there to hear the voice of the Father from heaven and the whole nine yards. My first reaction upon reading this was "doesn't he remember baptising Christ?" Then I thought maybe John just wanted confirmation. I think while he was sitting in jail, the thought began to creep up on him, maybe this isn't the right guy. I mean, afterall, Jesus wasn't exactly the Messiah that anyone was expecting. John must have been a little concerned.

What really encourages me was Christ's response to John's question.
"Jesus answered and said to them, 'Go and tell the things which you hear and see: The blind see and the lame walk; the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear; the dead are raised up and the poor have the gospel preached to them. And blessed is he who is not offended because of me."

Important things:
1. Jesus' response was go and tell the things which you HEAR and SEE. Jesus didn't talk about how it makes no sense that the earth is six billion years old; he didn't start a lecture about moral law; he didn't talk about democrats or gun laws. He said look at what's going on right now and then go tell John, and that will be enough for him.

2. Jesus did not say "John, you faithless jerk! I'm going to go get rebaptized by someone who isn't a shmuck." I think Jesus understood that he was taking people by surprise in not overthrowing Jerusalem and "burning up the chaff with inquenchable fire." Jesus gave enough evidence though to compensate for the Jews' false pretenses. (which brings me to #3)

3. The last sentence there says "And blessed is he who is not offended because of me." At first, I didn't get it. Then I pulled out my handy Greek-English Interlinear Bible and Strong's Exhaustive Concordance (coolest things ever) and looked up the original Greek for the word offended. The NIV says 'blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me.' I think that's a little closer to the original. The word "offend" in the Greek is skandalizo, where we get our word scandal or scandalize. It means "to trip up or entice to sin, apostasy or displeasure." Jesus was saying basically, Blessed is the man who isn't tripped up because of something I didn't do (such as heal the sick, raise the dead, or preach to the poor.) He wanted to make it clear that he did everything he could do to get people to realize he was the Messiah. He did not hold back in regards to proof.

4. John learned of these things by word of mouth, just as we have learned of Jesus' miracles by word of mouth, or the written word.

Now what does that mean for us?
The Lord never meant for us to blindly follow something for which there was no proof. Jesus was very concerned with providing enough proof for his followers. However, most of us are in the position of John, having to rely on what we hear is going on in other parts of the world, or having to rely on what we've seen done in the past. Now, that said, Christ expects us to take existing proof and run with it. He didn't go to John and do some miracle to prove himself. He expected John's disciples to accurately report what was going on. In light of that, I don't think I have much room for doubt at all. For those who think they haven't seen enough, I would encourage you to talk to people who do seem firm in their faith and ask them why they are so certain. Christ is eager to provide what you need to believe in him; you just have to look for it.

dcTalk: A Legend Lives On

2006-08-13T04:43:00.000+02:00

Today was a bittersweet day. As many of you know, dcTalk has always been, and will remain, the best band on Earth. I am filled with mixed emotions as I write this because of both the happiness and bewilderment of what happened to me today.
Okay, I'll tell you.
As I was driving in the car, the instrumental beginning of the song "Jesus Freak" came on the radio, the song for which dcTalk will probably be most remembered for centuries, nay, millenia to come. I was naturally excited, as any dcTalk fan would be, as I opened my mouth to sing the first word "Separated..."
My immediate response to what I heard was horror. Michael Tait's voice did not echo from the speakers like a squirrel peeks his head out of his tree burrowed hole (both are so natural). Instead, I heard a woman's voice singing words that I have never heard a woman sing before (on the radio, I sing the words all the time, but that doesn't count. Imagine your mom's voice coming out of the face of the cookie monster going "cookie, cookie." It's just wrong.)

Someone has done a remake of the dcTalk song "Jesus Freak".

At first I was dissapointed and confused; terrible confusion and crying ensued. Then I realized... DcTalk is worthy of having a song THEY WROTE resung and remade into something new (although NOT better.) I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH A DCTALK SHRINE IN MY SOUL! Ok, maybe that's going a little far, but if there exists something just a degree or two less than a shrine in my soul, that's what I have for dcTalk. But, this proves it! I'm not alone!!!

So for the many of you who don't think dcTalk is the greatest band ever, I would insist that you're incorrect. DcTalk has has a song stolen from them and rerecorded. Have you? Has your favorite band? Okay, maybe they have, but that just goes to show you, that dcTalk is just as good as them, if not better.

I come back to Spain in nine days. In memory of dcTalk, and sheer excitement about them and their aura, I shall quote lyrics now.

The other night I met a girl, and she looked at me so nice,
I asked her for the digits and she didn't think twice.
A couple'a days later, called her up and asked her out,
she said "with you?" I said "with me!" and she said "without a doubt."

I took her to the garden, where I guess they grow the olives,
she wore a tighter skirt than any I had seen at college.
She said "I love to smoke and drink while cursin' like a sailor."
I asked her where she got her mouth and if she had a tailor.

Finally, I walked her to the door to say goodnight,
She said "I am an apple, would you care to take a bite?"
Politely I refused and said "I'm lookin' for a lady,"
so she slapped me in my face and said "BOY YOU MUST BE CRAZY!"

The Anvil of God's Word

2006-08-03T20:40:00.000+02:00

I found a poem that I really really like. It's old and corny but I hope you like it too.

The Anvil of God's Word

Last eve I passed beside the blacksmith's door,
And heard the anvil ring the vesper chime;
Then looking in, I saw upon the floor,
Old hammers, worn with beating years of time.

"How many anvils have you had," said I,
"To wear and battle all these hammers so?"
"Just one," said he, and then with a twinkling eye,
"The anvil wears the hammers out, you know."

And so, I thought, the Anvil of God's Word
For ages sceptic blows have beat upon;
Yet, though the noise of falling blows was heard,
The Anvil is unharmed, the hammers gone.

-John Clifford (1836-1923)

I'M TWUNNEEEEEE!!!!

2006-08-01T15:58:00.000+02:00

I am no longer a teenager. CRAP. hee hee.

Yesterday I turned 20. Thats crazy. But I got some good presents. I think my most exciting one was an interlinear Bible- It's an English Bible with the original Greek translation right above the English words. very very cool.

Cake is delicious.

In other news, I called my dad the other day and he started talking about how "Last night, when I was talking to Denzel Washington..." I was like WHAT!?
He apparently went to a party where Denzel Washington was there and he played harmonica for him and all his famous friends. So thats crazy too.

In other other news. I'm twenty. I come back to Spain in twenty days. I get my wisdom teeth out next monday. All four of them, so that will be fun. It's the first day of August! That's crazy! I can't think of anything else remotely interesting or important, so... this leads to the question of the day.

Question of the day:
Have you ever talked to a famous person?

and/or

What's the best present you've ever received?

I await your answers with bated breath.

cereal

2006-07-27T22:34:00.000+02:00

this morning while i was eating cereal, i sneezed.

it was gross.

has that ever happened to you?

it is gross.

Question Of The Day
where/when is the worst place/time to sneeze?

only to make kelly happy

2006-07-15T22:08:00.000+02:00

Dear Fans,

Sorry I haven't written in more than a fortnight. It isn't because my love for you has waned in any measure, instead, it is caused by the same genre of sickness that inferms pupils in their fourth year of highschool, senioritis. Now, my ailment is not senioritis, but it is, alas, as I earlier mentioned, of the same genre of sickness.

I've gotten lazy because it's my freakin' summer vacation.

Oh! I have forgotten myself! Where are my manners?

I have become enlazethed due to my freakING summer vacation.

Anyways, I decided the laziness must cease immediately because I only have like a month left of sweet freedom. I still have to read Don Quixote, go to Junior High summer camp (next week) and do a slew of other chorish boring burdens.

SO. Without further adieu, non-laziness. An almost haste-like state, if you will.

With highest regurds,

Victoria stembokas

ps. the new superman is a hunk.
pps. don't expect a post for a week- I'll be at camp. or will I?

Just keep waiting for me...

2006-07-13T17:13:00.000+02:00

I changed the look of my blog because
1. the template was called "Son of Moto"
2. I'm bored, but have nothing useful or "of note" about which to blog.
3. if Amy S. hasn't been eating because of me not posting like kelly says, I don't want her to die. which should happen any day now.
4. again, "son of moto" is funny.

Post

2006-07-09T23:11:00.000+02:00

posty post post poster. Post posty postiferous postic prepost. Supost posty conpost conposter. Posty posting postage post. Tripost postar postific postal.

Back to Spain: Italy Part IV of IV. Why Jo and I are SO hardcore.

2006-05-17T16:02:00.000+02:00

Amidst some questionable passengers we flew back to Spain via Santander aka. the bus station of an airport with the worst links to the outside world possible. Picture a can of sardines plus a salmon or two that dont have any clue as to what bus etiquette all shoved in a can. plus suitcases. We arrived in Santander and within 5 minutes had tickets to the next destination- San Sebastian. We stopped only long enough to have a really amazing menu with fish soup. Very tasty indeed.

With backpacks strapped on, yet again, we boarded the bus to our hostel. Our friendly Basque bus driver (basically everyone in the Basque land is friendly and nice) helped us find it and we relished in our very much needed hot showers, internet facilites and general Spanish ambiance.

The next morning, refreshed and back in a country where we could understand things, such as warning signs and danger tape, we felt ready to do anything. Even cross warning signs and danger tape. It was for the sake of art.

These are pictures of the modern art sculpture "Peine del Viento" or the Comb of the Wind. Danger tape was blocking it off, but what do we care? We're adventurers. It might have had something to do with the fact that it was out on a rocky precipice and it was raining and the sea was a mighty foe. Or something. Moving on..

We ended up covering our backpacks with plastic and forging on through the elements exploring peirs and the old Basque town before going to the next city, thats right folks, the seventh city on our world tour: Bilbao.

If there were ever a city designed by an artist, it would be Bilbao.
There are modern art sculptures literally everywhere and they did a good job preparing us for Bilbao's main attraction, The Guggenheim Museum. The coolest museum ever.
We explored the exhibits and especially enjoyed the temporary photographic exhibit of about 160 "hand" pieces. Being the art aficionados that we are, Jo and I left feeling privilaged and all around artsy-fartsy ready to stock a museum full of our own blatant talent. With one last burst of energy, and filled with Basque pinxos (not pinchos) (or tapas) we AMAZINGLY (get ready for this- the most amazing part of our trip...) we finished homework on the bus on the way back to Madrid!
************************************************************************************

You must realize, up until this point, neither Jo or I had mentally processed anything that had happened thus far. We simply did not have the time. That's why, after 7 cities in 7 days, when Kelly and Amy asked me "How was it?" I took a deep breath and in a frenzy talked and laughed histerically for a full 30 minutes without stopping.

Italy Part III of IV- Venice and Rome

2006-05-16T16:18:00.000+02:00

Venice was wonderful. The scenery was amazing. I've never seen a city with more bridges than roads and water literally everywhere. If you ever get to go to Italy, go to Venice. I bought a Venetian Carnival mask and Jo and I had the most AMAZING pizza either of us had ever had. And that's saying something- I'm from Long Island.

We, realizing our time was short in Venice, and Italy in general, realized it was our civic duty to eat more gelato before collapsing into our beds. The next morning we got up, and being the thrifty college students that we are, made a delicious breakfast of eggs, bread and sausages, and then packed our lunches and headed off in search of (gelato, um..er..) St. Mark’s Cathedral and the other Venetian sites to see.

After meeting some English tour reps and chatting about Italy for a while (we were experts by now) My Venetian vanity took over and I bought some “very cool” sunglasses with orange lenses and white rims. Chanel. (or fake Chanel). Of course they’re cool! We, my eyes now protected and Jo still stuffed from the amazing amount of food she’s able to tuck in at lightening speed, dawdled down to the Rialto, which is the first bridge built in Venice, and we sat around and basked in the sun for awhile.

As we sat on the steps leading down to another canal, pigeons (Jo’s favorite animal) approached us and tried to make friends. Jo shooed her map at them and they just fluttered their wings for a second as if to say, yeah? I can shake things at you too!.

We glanced to the right and we saw a tragetto, a sort of commuter gondola, picking up passengers and ferrying them (for 50 cents) to the other side of the canal. We deided, because we weren’t going to pay sixty euros an hour on a private gondola, to jump on and standing (because you cant sit) and laughing and taking pictures, we made it to the other side without falling in (much to the amusement of everyone else on board).

Upon arriving at the other side of the canal, we realized that we had no reason to be on the other side, so we found a bridge, crossed back over, and continued to explore all of the tiny streets and canals that made Venice so wonderful to behold.

We explore a bit more in the student district, got another gelato, (they were only a euro each). And lounged around a bit in Campo Santa Margherita as the sun slowly set. That night we wandered around looking for dinner and new sites and ended up eating at a tiny restaurant full of very old Italian people playing cards and yelling at eachother. We went home early (via a gelato shop for one last goodbye scoop) because the next morning we had to be on a bus at ten after six to get to the RyanAir airport for our flight to Rome.

(Go grab some popcorn or coffee or something or if you have to go to the bathroom go ahead, now's a good time. We're just riding on the bus.)

Bleary eyed, incoherent, and blustering, we went from a leisurely, quite slow pace on the bus (while you were getting coffee/popcorn/bladders emptied etc.) to checking in at the ryan air bus stop with passports flying, conformation numbers being wipped out and bags being organized and zipped to get on the plane. After a delayed flight (we still arrived on time because apparently planes go slow on purpose... I bet I could get from the states to Spain in a hour if they wanted..) we arrived in Rome, or a bus station of an airport, an hour outside Rome with a Rome derived name as was the case.

One more RyanAir bus later (and very interesting music on board aka Prozac fm- ask us and we’ll explain it to you) we found our hostel and some interesting roommates. We headed straight out using the Roman Metro where Italian metro etiquette educated us on how Spaniards do it incorrectly. (apparently one is supposed to crowd the door before one’s stop despite all of the free space not right by the door). Arriving at the Vatican, we went inside to see some of the most amazing statues and paintings and murals in the world. How can one describe the cistene chapel and it’s collection of loud, picture taking, non-revering tourists? (all ignoring the shhh that was mechanically sounding every minute or so).

(Hercules w/ Medusa's head. Cool.)
In a span of six hours or so we saw the Vatican (not just one room mind you), St. Peter’s square, St. Peter’s Basilica, The Pantheon, The Trevi Fountain (we threw pennies in guaranteeing our return to Rome) and denied the offer of blessed yellow flowers from about thirty men. That night, after our hostel’s free pasta dinner (not as typically Italian as we would have liked), we trundled down to the Coliseum and the Roman ruins with our legs and feet aching and
throbbing.
(Trevi Fountain)

(Pantheon.)
(Colluseum at night. Really cool)

With our must see list exhausted, we rewarded ourselves with chocolate fondue before heading back to the Freedom Traveler and trying to avoid our interesting roommates, we collapsed, knackered, into bed. The next morning, Victoria, almost bumping into a semi-naked australian man in her first waking moments and Jo, still trying to avoid the stupid American boys in our room snuck down to breakfast and prepared to go back to Spain.

Tomorrow: "Bilbao and San Sebastian" or "Why we like Northern Spain" or "No amount of rain will stop us from doing anything because we're HARDCORE!"

Italy Part Deux. The Metro and Verona

2006-05-01T11:31:00.000+02:00

Sorry this has taken so stinkin' long. But here it is: PART DEUX!

Anyone who understands the Italian metro has perhaps not used it. After trying about four different kinds of machines, we finally found the one that spit out metro tickets (with the help of some American girls and watching some disgruntled Italian youth kick and swear at the ticket machine).
As the metro doors opened, for mere milliseconds, we thought we saw a green hazy cloud pour out of the funk-filled tube. We stepped inside, or rather ran before the doors shut on us. At Lorento (our metro stop) with green fog probably following us, we got out and tried to find the Bermuda Triangle that was Via Porpora (the street with our hostel on it). After refusing an offered Italian escort and the ever present temptation (?) offered by six McDonalds on the way, we finally found the infamous “Hotel Sabatini.” Despite our forward thinking in booking ahead the man at the counter failed to understand our confirmation number nor our spanglish as we pleaded for “a bed for the night”.
Our room came fully equipped with two middle aged, drunken German women who spoke minimal English; just enough to confess that they’d had “too much wine.” The next morning we went, bikeless (disappointing, as the website promised them) to explore Milan.
Being Sunday in such a big city, logically, everything was closed. By this time, we were famished. Eventually, sorting through the 50 open McDonalds, we stumbled across a bakery where we purchased and devoured some delicious stuffed pizza with some chocolate filled gooey oozing croissants- the highlight of Milan! We decided the food far surpassed the scenery, although there were some cool trams/trolleys scooting around.

We then walked down into the old town where preceding the impressive cathedral was a giant, covered cross shaped building lined with fashionable Milan stores and frescos lining the ceilings.

Where the two bars of the cross intersected, there were four stores, Luis Vuittan, Prada, Gucci, and, you guessed it, Micky D’s. (the usually bright yellow McDonalds sign was toned down a bit to an antique gold to not clash with its classy surroundings.) Weaving through the Asian tourists to get to see the cathedral, statue of Goya, etc... we made our way back to the ‘hotel’ to grab our bags and get ready for the next city.

This Cathedral was AMAZING because I really like scultures, especially real-life stuff because you have to be amazingly talented to sculpt something. Anyways, in this picture, especially on the bottom right, you can see a statue of a person. There were literally hundreds of statues on the facade of this building- and each statue was different! They were saints, martyrs, church fathers etc.. all different- one guy had his intestines hanging out. You can see maybe 50 of the statues in this picture, and they are all quite a bit bigger than me, just to give you some perspective on how HUGE this cathedral was. I think out of the whole trip, even including Rome, this was my favorite.

At the railway station in Milan, we decided upon Verona as the next location for our adventure. Six euros, a baguette and some salami slices later, Verona was upon us. We stayed at a converted-into-a-hostal monastary there and it was beautiful. We even made a new friend who decided "hey, I'll just hang out with YOU guys all day!" The pictures speak for themselves:

Stay Tuned for Venice!

Victoria's Downfall Pool

2006-04-20T01:35:00.000+02:00

We interrupt your normal "Italy" broadcasting with a special update from Victoria's recent life...

Troy is doing this Bible/Christian history class for whoever is interested. I was interested. I always seem to be interested in aquiring more knowledge than I have. I love to learn. I love to argue (just ask anyone that's been around me for more than five seconds...) and I love bouncing my ideas off everyone else just so they'll hear how smart I am.

Troy is smarter than me.

I don't know if any of you knew that *wink wink* but it's true. Last night, instead of having Christian History Survey part 3, we (Kelly, Enrique, Troy and I) went to Vips, got some food and had some good chatting time. (by good chatting time, I mean two hours of me asking Troy questions) If you would have told me a week ago that I would eventually want to get my masters and spend God knows how many more years in school, I would have told you that you are clearly not as smart as me; but apparently I'm not as smart as me. I want to go to seminary.

(Jerry Falwell with my friend Roxy)

okay. tuck that away, here comes the second part.

I'm in Philosophy 486 this semester, Philosophy of the Problems in Religion. The class is what it sounds like. We talk about the problems with any form of religion from a philosophical standpoint. It's very cool because I like arguing. I'm sure if Kelly were in the class, she'd probably stand up and scream, Why can't we all just get along?
Anyways, problems of religion. My professor is always referring to theology and philosophy in terms of baseball teams or something. It's always the Theologians or the Philosophers playing against each other. He said that, a couple hundred years ago, Philosophy was referred to as the 'handmaiden' of the queen of the sciences, Theology. He then retorted, yes, Philosophy had to walk in front of Theology everywhere she went holding a lamp, so as to not allow the "dumb broad" to fall flat on her face... You get the idea.

Can I just gloat for two seconds. Basically, it's my blog and I'll gloat if I want to... gloat if I want to, gloat if I want to... you would gloat to if it happened to YOU DOOT DOOT DOOT DOOT DOOT! What happened you ask? Aw shucks... Okay I'll tell you.

part three... what happened to me today:

Before Semana Santa I had to write a paper for Philosophy talking about what faith is. It was a hard paper. I spent nine hours writing it, and get this, I actually LIKED IT! I actually smiled with glee as I wrote the conclusion! I actually giggled writing the paper because I saw scripture debunk some of these philosophical arguments I was arguing against. I giggled, no kidding. I love the Bible! But I digress..
Today I got that paper back. Heather offered to scan it for me so that I could post it as proof. But I thought that would make a cocky post even worse, so I'll just tell you what he wrote on it.

"A- good discussion... You should become a theologian! They need you. "

THEY NEED ME ON THEIR TEAM! How do I make this sound less conceited and proud? I guess I can't. But I think I'm pretty hot stuff right now. You know that saying "pride comes before a fall..." ? Someone could really win a lot of money if they opened up some sort of pool or something. You know like a baby pool? There could be a Victoria's downfall pool...

I can't wait to go to seminary...

...maybe I'll get my picture taken with Jerry too...

My Trip To Italy. Part 1.

2006-04-16T20:15:00.000+02:00

As many of you know, Jo and I went to Italy for spring break. It was great. Upon arriving back to Madrid, we sat down and wrote out about fifteen pages of play by play action so that we could both remember everything that happened. This is the condensed version, with pictures.

Our Trip to Italy. Part One.

Seven Days. Seven Cities. Incredible? Stupid? Or just the rare combination of two girls- one British, one American- coming together to explore and to conquer the world? We like to call it the VicJoria effect. The scene starts at 5:30 am Saturday morning, the third of March, 2006 in Tribunal. The dubious duo are accosted by a strange man (later turning out to be Jonathan) who mugs Victoria of her house keys then scampers to sleep in her house and eat her peanut butter (no one else was there). The tired two trundle away from Tribunal to hail a taxi midst sandwich selling chinos and drunken delinquents loitering on Gran Via.

Mistaking us for the drunken, puke prone teenagers, most of the taxi’s just sped by leaving only their spray splattering us in mockery. However, one nice cabbie (realising that our backpacks weren’t full of party clothes or drugs) picked us up and we made our way to Avenida de America in good time for the bus to Zaragoza which arrived around 9 am. Little did we know, the time we spent in Zaragoza was a good indication of the time it took us to explore a city to our satisfaction. (about five hours). After what became a traditional napolitana de chocolate for breakfast, the satiated students ventured on towards the Alferia, or an ancient fortress occupied by the Moors, then the Christians, then the Spanish Monarchs.

We then walked to the Basilica de Pilar in the center and Victoria, recalling her childhood knowledge of the various Catholic traditions, educated Jo on why everything was so shiny.

Next, we explored the town market, filled with every thing from fruits and vegetables to boar’s heads on meat hooks. Apparently, the “Lord of the Flies” has inspired more than just high school teachers. The lord-of-the-flies-esque moment did not hinder our stomachs though, because next, we found a seven euro menu del dia, which included the famous and delicious fish soup of the north.

After lunch, we caught the first of what would be many Ryan Air connection buses to the Ryan Air airport/bus stop/building in the middle of the sticks/is that a sheep?

For the record, Bergamo is not Milan, despite what Ryan Air advertises. The flight passed quickly and we made a new Italian friend (insert a standard Italian name here). After being educated on what to do in Milan, we found ourselves in a metro station in Milan (not forgetting the one hour bus ride it took to get us from the “airport” to the city via a tour of the 600 McDonalds in Milan. Apparently, Italian cuisine isn’t pasta and pizza, its anything below those golden arches.)

stay tuned for part deux. "The Metro." or "Victoria and Jo go to Verona" (either one)

be patient

2006-04-09T10:43:00.000+02:00

midterms=four papers and a test on a novel I have yet to read.
just keep waiting for my post.

While you're all waiting for Italy...

2006-03-17T16:56:00.000+01:00

I'm not quite done with my Italy post, so for you very impatient readers, here's something to tie you over. Its the same google image thing that heather and kelly did- here it is

First Name: Victoria (clearly represents me well)

Middle Name: Catherine (the only picture that wasn't catherine zeta jones. plus i think its cute)

Last Name: Stembokas (I didn't think a picture would come up, but only one did. A picture of a deer. Interesting.)

Age on my next birthday: 20!

City I grew up in: Out of the many, I'm going to pick Purcellville, Virginia:

(This is cool, because it's a cross that lights up on the highway that you can see at night. The Catholic church I went to when I was younger put it up.)

Favorite Color: ORANGE (pronounced aarange)

Place I'd like to live: In a Jungle Hut (kelly and heather, you have no imagination)

Place I live Now: Madrid

(Real Madrid, 1956)

Habit I have: singing in the shower

Favorite Food: Right now, Chicken Parmesan. mmmm.

Favorite Aminal: I have no idea. I like my stuffed lion a lot though.

Religion: Bible thumpin' Fundamentalist

Dream Job: an Orator

Grandmother's Name: Peggy Landfield (this is NOT what my gramma looks like)

Favorite Smell: Honeysuckles

put all those pictures together and you get me.

2006-02-24T14:42:00.000+01:00

Dive in... you never know what lies in the murk. Theres a boat if you can't swim.

El Elyon, The God Most High

2006-02-24T13:16:00.000+01:00

Troy Cady is my pastor in Spain. He's a pretty smart guy and sometimes he says really profound things, I think sometimes without realizing it. During the last vision crafting meeting, Troy said something that I am still thinking about, and of which I have recently been reminded because of a new Bible study I'm doing about the names of God.
After I finished screaming the word discipleship over and over again at the top of my lungs, Troy suggested that our church's vision statement have phrases that have two contrasting parts. An example of this would be a focus on discipleship YET devotion to evangelism; teaching YET equipping believers to teach themselves, etc. These two phrases stand opposed to eachother but when contrasted against eachother make the meaning of the other a little richer and a little more meaningful. Keep this thought in mind...
I've been doing this bible study called "Lord, I Want to Know You" by Kay Arthur. I love Kay Arthur and if you don't like her, I will fight you. Kay Arthur presents an inductive approach to bible study- meaning that one looks at the scripture, the greek, the context and other corresponding verses in scripture to understand what a particular verse means. She doesn't use commentary or old theology book quotes. I like commentaries and I love old theology book quotes, but I think she's right in saying that they should be an extra suppliment to understanding scripture only after one has already waited for guidance from the Holy Spirit. That said, the point of the book is to explore the names of God in scripture to better understand His character; since names were used to demonstrate someone's character back in the day.
The newest name of God that we went over was El Elyon, or God the Most High. She writes, "El Elyon is the name that designates God as the sovereign ruler of all the universe. It was El Elyon... who delivered Abraham's enemies into his hand (Gen. 14:21). It was the Most High God who was and is the Redeemer of Israel (Psm. 78:35). And it is the Most High God who rules today over the affairs of men."
El Elyon rules over every affair of men imaginable. She quoted a LOT of verses talking about exactly what God has dominion over. I will type only a few out for you to see what I'm talking about. These are the ones that have had the biggest impact on me. (Italics are mine, pay attention to what's italicized and what God has control over.)

"... His kingdom endures from generation to generation. And all the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, but He does according to His will in the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and no one can ward off His hand or say to Him, "What hast though done?"" (Daniel 4:35)

"Remember the former things long past, for I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is no one like me... My purpose will be established, and I will accomplish all My good pleasure... Truly I have spoken; truly I will bring it to pass. I have planned it, surely I will do it." (Isaiah 46:9-11)

"See now that I, I am He, and there is no god besides Me; it is I who put to death and give life. I have wounded, and it is I who heal; and there is no one who can deliver from My hand."
(Deuteronomy 32:39)

"But to Hannah he would give a double portion, for he loved Hannah, but the LORD had closed her womb. Her rival, however, would provoke her bitterly to irritate her, because the LORD had closed her womb." (I Samuel 1:5-6)

"I am the LORD, and there is no other, the One forming light and creating darkness, causing well-being and creating calamity; I am the LORD who does all these."
(Isaiah 45:6-7)

Are you catching a trend? The Mormon church considers the God of the Old Testament to be a completely different God than that of the New Testament. I'm not Mormon, and I disagree with that presumption, but I do see where they could get that from. They describe the God of the Old Testament as an angry, vengeful, all powerfull, stay-out-of-my-way god. In just these four verses we catch a glimpse of the Most High causing death, illness, physical injury, barrenness, creating darkness and creating calamity. Calamity! This suggests that Hurricane Katrina was not caused by some butterfly flapping it's wings off the coast of Africa. This suggests that disease and death and barrenness are not only products of the fall, they are in fact sent by God to do his will and give Him glory! This suggests that in comparison to the importance of the Glory of God, the inhabitants of the earth are counted as nothing! Nothing!

Yet...

"Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them.Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."" (Matt. 19:13-14)

" See, the Sovereign LORD comes with power,
and his arm rules for him.
See, his reward is with him,
and his recompense accompanies him.

He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young."
(Isaiah 40:10-11)

"Christ Jesus, who being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death- even death on a cross!"
(Phil. 2:6-8)

Body Part: Eyes

2006-01-25T09:59:00.000+01:00

I got to speak this last weekend at Oasis (my church in Madrid), and here is what I said:
The series we’re doing is Body Parts and this week’s body parts are the eyes. Romans 6:13 says to “present our bodies as instruments of righteousness” to God so tonight I’m going to be talking about using our eyes to God’s glory. Now, glorifying God with our eyes can be described in a lot of different ways- what we should look at, what we shouldn’t look at, who we should pay special attention too… and Jesus talked a lot about what our eyes should and shouldn’t be doing when he was on earth, so when I was faced with the subject of eyes I didn’t really know where to start. Then I heard the song we just sang. “Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full in His wonderful face. And the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace.”
As Christians, we seem to develop these cute little happy sayings that we say to each other when we’re feeling sad or a situation seems hopeless. We say things like, “every cloud has a silver lining,” and “there’s always darkness before the dawn,” or even “Jesus Loves You and the little children.” Now, these things sound nice but a lot of the time we’re left thinking, okay that’s well and good, but what am I supposed to do now??? I know Jesus loves me and I know Jesus loves the little children… but what now??
I don’t want the phrase “turn your eyes upon Jesus” to be just another one of those phrases that comes up and leaves you asking what now!? How do I turn my eyes upon Jesus, Victoria? I can’t see Jesus, can you? (no, I can’t see Jesus either) … I am going to talk tonight about what exactly turning our eyes upon Jesus looks like… but first I want to talk about why this is important.
Someone read Luke 6:39. It says “Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they both not fall into a pit?” See, our eyes affect every single thing we do. It’s very, very frustrating not being able to see because all of a sudden we don’t have the whole picture. That’s why, no matter how much it hurts our eyes, in the middle of the night, when we need to get up for something, we turn on the light; because we know there is the potential to hurt much more than just our eyes. And especially in Madrid, we would never, ever just walk out into the street without looking both ways for cars. ** bird slide** Have you ever been really sorry you didn’t check more carefully the bread you just made your sandwich on? You go in to take a nice big bite and you see this green fuzzy thing taking over the bread… ** Mold slide** Most people try very hard to get the whole picture before they do almost anything, (driving, eating, walking…) Now, watch this clip of what happens when we can only see part of what’s going on. MOVIE CLIP #1- CHUNK… Chunk in this clip meant well, he was going to turn in the bad guys- the Fratelli’s- and he ended up getting caught by them because he couldn’t see in the dark. Like Chunk, most people are walking around half blind with only a small glimpse of the big picture- and they end up making huge mistakes because of this.
Let me explain further by asking another question and I promise we’ll get back to this big picture idea and falling into a pit and turning your eyes on Jesus.

Did you ever wonder why Jesus, while he was on Earth, prayed? I mean, He is God! Why should he have to pray? He can conjure up anything he wants with his mere words and he never had to ask for forgiveness because He was perfect! It wasn’t even to teach his disciples necessarily- Luke 5:16 says that Jesus “often withdrew into the wilderness and prayed.” He often went off to pray by himself! Now, I think there we’re various reasons for this but I think one major one sticks out to me. Jesus went to turn his eyes on his Father just as we are to turn our eyes on Him. It’s kind of like the blind man leading the blind man… We’re half blind down here on earth, so we need someone to lead us or we’re going to fall into a pit! Obviously, Jesus is that leader, he’s the one that has the whole picture, he’s the one who can see in the dark, so if Jesus had to go to his father and turn his eyes on his Father, we need to follow our leader and do the same. We need to turn our eyes on Jesus- You see, that was Jesus’ way of getting the big picture. It was his way of seeing the whole story. It was his way of opening both his physical eyes to see what was going on around him and his spiritual eyes to see why these things mattered. Let me say that again, because it is the crux of what I have to say tonight. It was his way of opening both his physical eyes to see what was going on around him, and his spiritual eyes to see why it even mattered. You see- He was immersed in a physical world and he was in a physical body where he couldn’t just look around and see the spiritual like he could when he wasn’t in the flesh!
Once Jesus came to earth, he had the same restrictions that you and I have. We can’t look our Heavenly Father in the face and neither could Jesus. So… through prayer, he turned his eyes on his Father to get the whole story, because He KNEW from before that without seeing everything physical through a spiritual lens, he wouldn’t get the whole story. Just as we wouldn’t walk out into traffic or eat moldy bread, we ought not to just ignore the spiritual significance of things. G.K. Chesterton said “God is like the sun. You cannot look at it, but without it you cannot look at anything else!” What I’m saying is that just as what we see with our eyes affects where we step on the side walk if you know what I’m saying, our spiritual eyes should have just as much significance in the way we react to things and basically, how we behave. We’ve got to walk around with our spiritual eyes open or there is a very big pit we are likely to fall into.
C.S. Lewis talks in depth about this in his book Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer. He warns us not to mistake what we see going on around us as the Ultimate Reality as he calls it, or the big picture- because it is far from it. He uses the example of a dream. A dream is a delusion only so long as we’re dreaming. However, when we wake up- it ceases to be a delusion or a lie or a trick. Because now we are seeing it from the outside perspective that a giant spider really wasn’t about to eat you although five minutes before your whole body was seized with terror as the spider approached. C.S. Lewis also explains this like a play. He says we’re all in a giant play. The world is like a stage set. If you attack a little house with hammers and clubs on a stage, you won’t get pieces of brick and stone like you would in the real world, rather, you would just cut a hole in the canvas. Likewise, we are all characters- covered in stage makeup (which is our bodies), and we’re in the costumes of our professions and our tastes, yet that’s not who we really are! You see, an actor cannot act if he has nothing underneath the character. Actors don’t go home at night still pretending to be doctors or psychos or aliens. They have real people underneath that make the doctor or psycho or alien more interesting and real. C.S. Lewis says, “Now the moment of prayer is for me… the awareness… that this ‘real world’ and ‘real self’ are very far from being rock-bottom realities. I cannot, in the flesh, leave the stage, either to go behind the scenes or to take my seat in the pit; but I can remember that these regions exist. I also remember that my apparent self--- this clown or hero or (English teacher or student or secretary or doctor) - under his grease-paint is a real person with an off-stage life… And in prayer, this real I struggles to speak…”
Turning our eyes on Jesus, which to me is really another word for praying, is exactly this.
What you see with your eye balls is only half the story. II Corinthians 4:18 says, “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary but what is unseen is eternal.” To get the full story, you have to open your spiritual eyes (which is turning your eyes on Jesus) and recognize that there are two worlds at work, the visible physical world, and the invisible spiritual world and we cannot understand this world and therefore act appropriately if we are not seeing the big picture- both the physical and the spiritual. Paul, on his way to Damascus when he was still called Saul, learned this lesson better than anyone else I can describe. We see this story in Acts 9. “Meanwhile, Saul was still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples… As he neared Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” “Who are you Lord?” Saul asked. “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,” he replied, “Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what to do…” Saul got up from the ground, and when he opened his eyes, he could see nothing.”
Could you imagine??? All of a sudden, Paul walking down the street becomes blind because God says to him, guess what Paul- What you’ve seen with your physical eyes your whole life MEANS NOTHING. IT MEANS NOTHING, PAUL. Unless you know what’s going on spiritually, you’re better off as a blind man! That’s why you didn’t see me before and that’s why you can’t see anything now!
Now, three days later, Paul regained his sight and with that came a complete life change. His whole life changed because of the one moment that his spiritual eyes were opened.
Now most of us didn’t go around killing Christians before we we’re saved. And most of us are here because we know that a God exists and a spiritual world exists. However, I know I sometimes don’t live like I see the whole picture. Imagine if we really lived like God was our Provider and our Protector and our Comfort. Imagine if we took God at his word when he says that with the measure with which we give, that’s what we’ll be given. I’d probably tithe more, I’d definitely share my faith more and I wouldn’t care if people got offended or hated me after.
Allow me to extend the analogy of the play a little bit further. We’re all in a play and we’re all characters but someday that play will end and we’ll walk of stage. I Corinthians 13:12 says “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.” Our spiritual eyes will be fully opened. Some of us will be very surprised with what we see then and some of us will go, Oh, that’s what that looks like all cleared up… I’m going to pray and then we’re going to sing Open the Eyes of My Heart and I want you all to think about the situations in your life that seem most despairing to you or disheartening and then look at them again through spiritual eyes. Has God said He’ll be your provider? Then he will. Has he said He knows the things he’s planned for you? Then he does. Has he counted the hairs on your heads? He knows every one.