Waiting...

I wrote about this yesterday, but I felt everything I wanted to say was just a little bit muffled. The truth was, I had a bad day which left my mind kind of clouded and milky.

      Lately though, I have to say that most days have been frustrating. Take yesterday... I had major cell phone problems, found out my warranty was voided by something that wasn't my fault (but Sprint says they can't do anything about it anyway), I had low tips, I had bad customers, and 2 of my tables were occupied most of the night by people who were still talking from before I even showed up (thus I missed out on about 4 tables worth of tips.) 

      But it's not just that, it's everything. It's not having enough money, yet having more bills than I'd really like. It's hearing rumours about me from a former church I attended that absolutely shocked me. It's watching my niece grow up in a very challenged situation. It's watching my mother pick up the broken pieces of the past 8 years. It's watching my brother overcome obstacles. It's loving and not being loved in return. It's just flat out feeling worthless sometimes. It's dealing with things I probably should've dealt with a long time ago. 

      I remember when I was younger, everyone was interested in what a "youth" had to say about God, but the moment I grew a beard they expected me to either look exactly like Jesus, and if not, then they would listen to me as much as they would listen to Charles Manson (who also has a beard.) 

      My tables yesterday really sucked, and I can honestly say that though I am a people person, I would have much preferred to be working with a church this summer. Ultimately, I'm waiting... I'm waiting for something to happen, something to change, something to come along or for something to click. And why? Because it just feels so stagnant right here where I am. It feels so bland like an English soup.

      The more I think about this, the more I think about the Jews in Jesus' time. There were 4 different sects: Zealots, Herodians, Essenes, and Pharisees. During the time of Jesus, the Jews were under dominion of the Roman Empire, and prior to that they had a few other nations governing them for the past 500 years. They hated it, and they were frustrated, and they wanted something to change.

      The Zealots wanted to be proactive and militaristic, to force a change. The Herodians felt like change just wasn't going to happen, so they became apathetic and started towing the Roman party line. The Essenes felt like the only way change would happen was to get away from everything and move to a remote location in the desert and wait for enlightenment from God. Lastly, the Pharisees believed the Jews were in such a stagnant state becauseof their sin and debauchery so they believed that by becoming holier and ridding their communities of the disgraceful and the sinful would win them favour with God, thus God would send a Messiah and he would free them from oppresion. 
      
      Yet, when Jesus came, he confused all of them. Because all of the things he said, they seemed to agree with all of the view points in one sermon, yet by the end of that very same sermon Jesus had totally counteracted the viewpoints of everyone of those Jewish sects. The truth was, Jesus was right about everything he had to say. He felt like change needed to happen (which disagreed with the Herodians, and gladly shared feelings with the Zealots), yet he also believed that we should draw nearer to God and sin "no more" which shared views with the Pharisees, yet at the same time he was also condemning the Pharisees. He withdrew to lonely places often, which is what the Essenes suggested... yet at the same time he was eating and drinking with Prostitutes, Tax Collectors, and Social dislikes. This both went against the Essenes and the Pharisees.

      All in all, Jesus confused a lot of people and they felt like they were waiting. And in the end, Jesus brought them more than they were looking for. Some of them saw it, some of them didn't... either way he brought them an entire new way of life, that involved more of others and more people than they were use to. He began including lots of people into the story, ultimately making it known that God loves everyone and wishes to be relational with everyone. This is the salvation, that we were saved from sin and now we are able to know and relate with our maker through the sacrifice of our saviour Jesus Christ.

      And ya know, This is what is hitting me in the face. It's hitting me in the face like a hangover hits a drunk the next morning. Or like an echo of harsh words hits the husband or wife after they've spit fire at their spouse, totally disregarding any dignity that the other trusted them with. These things are mistakes, and that's what I've made. I've made the mistake of thinking that all of life revolves around me. That good things should come to me because for a lot of my life I've been dealt 2nd rate hands that just aren't as easy to play as everyone elses. Somteimes I tell myself I've got the rut of life: a father who has abandoned my family and the woman he said he loved, no single location to actually call "home", a string of failed relationships because I don't really know how a successful one works (besides that, most of the members from my family have either cheated or been cheated on... it's just not good).... etc, etc. Bottom line, I often have felt that things should be going better than they really are. Then I look back some odd months or maybe a year later, and I realize how much I wish I had that time back.

      For example, I saw a picture of the "dungeon" guys (which included me, clarke, andrew, perry, skylar, and kevin) all sharing a dinner in Oxford that Clarke and I had made and I just became nostalgic. I told my mom how I wished I had that time back again. At the time, I was feeling the effects of English weather and what not.

This is the bottom line: God is teaching to me wait because sometimes I forget that everyday of my life is not going to be great, and that's ok. That everyday might feel like the English rain clouds, greyish and cold and without much sunshine. God may be up to something bigger in my life that I am totally unaware of, just like with the different Jewish sects. Jesus was up to something but it confused them because they were looking for specific things and not waiting for Jesus to come through with a full swing.

Wait and there will be a good day. Wait, but don't forget to live. Wait and eventually God will burst through those rainclouds and show you just how good the sunshine should feel in life, and that without those rain clouds you couldn't appreciate the sunshine, you couldn't appreciate the goodness.

The Stars at Table 33

I've always liked to believe that people grow out of things.

In fact, this is what I daydream about sometimes. That one day, I'll grow out of my bad habits like wearing the same jeans for 2 weeks in a row (I learned this in England where people aren't so clean), then there's keeping my truck dirty (which I learned from Jeff Brooks), and then there's telling way too many stories (which I learned from... Hmmm... I'll have to get back to you on this one), and lastly there's the skipping baths that I'd really like to rid myself of because people tell me that it often ruins their night... Especially those whom I live with. My thing is, I think Jesus didn't smell too good after he got back from the 40 days in the desert, but no one said anything to him. And I know what you're thinking, "He's Jesus, he doesn't have to take baths." but let me just tell you that I disagree with you. Regardless of what it is, I've always liked to believe I'll grow out of it or get over it or whatever.

Tonight, however, I learned one of the most frightening lessons:
Somethings, you just don't grow out of.

I was waiting on table 33 tonight where young man with blonde hair accompanie two women, a very attractive young girl who was close to my age who I assumed was his girlfriend, and then there was her mother, an also attractive woman who seemed to not like waiters so much. Well, maybe not true. Anyways, they seemed to be somewhat distant with me (as some tables are) so I kind of kept quiet. But as I was refilling the young girl's tea that she had ordered with extra lemons, I caught her glancing at the table very trance-like, almost mesmermized by the salsa, and she just said very flat lined, "You know, Dad didn't call me for my birthday today." All that her mother said was, "What did you expect?" And at first, I just kept refilling the drinks and acting like I wasn't listening, but I was. As a matter of fact, I'm always listening to my guests and what they talk about because I find them interesting and more than that, in the most distant way I really do care about them.
When she said that, though, it was like she had shot me with this poison dart that sort of seeped into my veins the longer that it sat with me and I became more active. Because by the end of the night, I just felt so sorry for her. I felt like I was so powerless. When it really started to hit me was the moment we brought out her birthday dessert that was lit by one candle in which she smiled really big and said, "Awww, look at how cute that candle is, I like it." And instead of having everyone come to the table and do the Pappasitos birthday song, my trainer and I laid the dessert in front of her on the table and told her, "Happy Birthday Ma'am." And she said, "Thank you so much."

I tell you, I just couldn't stand it. She was so happy with the little that we did, and the worst part about all of tonight was that I was able to recognize that, that I was able to see right through her. Because she became vulnerable to me, to almost anyone at that restaurant who was paying attention. I mean she looked so pretty with her black top that was tied around her neck, and her black hair... I mean she was gorgeous, and she looked so strong too... and in an instant, she was fragile, like a child with the weakest bones. This started getting me thinking about my own father, and how I don't think I'll ever quite grow out of the hurts he's caused me. I mean I'll work through them, but man you just don't grow out of those things... They just don't go away. Searching the audience at your High School graduation to find that your father who makes about $75,000 a year by himself is absent from his reserved chair... why, that's one of the worst things and it doesn't leave you. Watching my mother who cried everyday of my 8th grade year, echoing Rachel who weeped for her children because they were no more, is so hard to get past... It's so hard to grow out of.

I guess I just didn't expect to be slammed with the problem of Fatherlessness at table 33 tonight. I didn't expect to be followed by my past, and not my trainer tonight. And it moments like this that I love Jesus most. It is moments like this that my eyes become soft and they shake a little bit as they moisten up, because I know that Jesus had very much of the same feelings that I've had and that this girl at table 33 had. And I wouldn't trade anything for Jesus. I just wouldn't.

And quite the opposite, I wouldn't trade those dark things like Fatherlessness because they are the things that have made me what I am today. Even if I still have some faults, I know Jesus and I love him and I wouldn't jeopardize the relationship I have with him for somewhat of a "brighter" childhood. It makes me think of that quote from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. as he preached his Mountain Top sermon and it is what I would like to leave you with...

"Only when it is dark enough, can you see the stars."

From Yesterday

"It was so sad to hear this morning from a Jewish girl who works with me that once she had been spending time with a local church going to church camps, mission trips, etc., ultimately learning more about Christianity... all to have been asked to leave the congregation since she didn't officially convert after a period of 9 months."

I'm finding out that there are bruises everywhere.

______________________________________________


"Do you think you deserve credit merely for loving those who love you... And if you lend money only to those who can repay you, what good is that?

...Do good to them! Lend to them! And don't be concerned that they might not repay. Then your reward from heaven will be very great, and you will truly be acting as children of the Most High, for he is kind to the unthankful and to those who are wicked. You must be compassionate, just as your Father is compassionate."
-Jesus-

Urbana 2006

So I'm working on trying to get a group of students to attend the Urbana 2006 Student Missions conference. I got $50 discounts for any ACU student/alumni/faculty who is interested. Let me know.

The NBA Finals

Ok, This is a lot of ground to cover... So, tell you what. Why don't each and everyone of you Mavs fans just go ahead and find me for my commentary on Game 6?

I'm assuming that none of you will find me, so don't worry, I'll find you and give you the commentary that you deserve. Hopefully you've been a good sport, and then I will be a good sport. Otherwise, you will receive the due commentary that your southern rivals are aching to dish out.

Until each and everyone meets again, PEACE!!!

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter...”

      Someone posed a question to me the other day about my "Third World America" post. It wasn't on this blogsite, but on my blogspot address. Among my resrach to respond to her question I found out that there is something called "Fourth World Poverty". And actually, Fourth World Poverty is exactly what I described in my previous post. The actual phrase defines two types of people. First, it is the poorest communities within Third World Countries, and Second, it is the poorest communities living within the First World Countries. That's kind of weird, huh? I guess it makes sense, though, because they're very much like an entirely different world and so are those set apart from the Third World Countries. These communities like I described in the previous post aren't exactly apart of the First World lifestyle like the rest of us, now are they?
      Even when I think about the lifestyle I had growing up, I still was apart of the "First World": I bought food at First World restaurants that sold at First World prices, I bought clothes from First World companies that dominated the First World fashion, I received a First World education in First World school buildings, and throughout my life (even in a shabby and crowded 2 bedroom, 1 bath apt. for 4-5 people) I have lived in First World housing. Yet, there are still those people in our communities that live in dumpsters night after night; some playing the hand that they were dealt at birth or battling to overcome an addiction from drugs, or maybe they're struggling to heal from the loss of friendship or family. Who knows? Whatever the matter, they live here, right outside of our apartments and gated communities, and we still overlook them. 
      You know something I never fully realized? Just how wealthy America is. That's right, I never fully realized it until I went to Europe and lived there for quite a while. Somehow, whether you call Capitalism economical genius or corruption (it doesn't matter), America has managed to become the only country in the world that can afford for most of it's inhabitants to only speak one language for their entire life. When I went to Greece, my mother's friend who lives there is an ordinary woman just like you would meet at church or the grocery store (yet with a Grecian Attitude and snap to her); she knows 3 languages fluently and she picked them all up while she was younger... Her daughters who are my age, they speak English, French, and Greek fluently. In fact, in Greece is it required that you learn both Greek and English in grade school, and you have a choice between German or French, but you must pick one of the two to learn. And the rest of the EU isn't too different with the way they educate their kids. I'm not saying that people don't learn languages here, but I mean, it's not to the point where we require our children to speak at least one other language (probably spanish) growing up to further benefit their opportunities in life. 
      I love America, I really do, but sometimes I'm just so frustrated wth my American lifestyle. Like, I have a friend who is traveling to Calcutta, India on Monday to spend seven weeks there, and she is taking nothing with her but a few outfits to last her for seven weeks. Nothing for seven straight weeks: no iPod, no alarm clock, no wrist watches, no cell phones, no makeup, no earrings, necklaces, or any other form of jewelry, no "formal" outfit, no nothing... Just a few sets of clothes. She'll also be washing her clothes in a bucket and bathing without hot water while she's there. She tells me that people's first reaction to this is always, "You can't bring your iPod?? Are you serious, I mean how are you going to live without it??" And it is exactly this that I am talking about. This horrible lie that I can't live without the latest technology, that what makes me whole and sane is my consumer electronics, my fancy cookware, and my Charmin Ultra that nestles on a wonderful toilet paper holder that spins fruity fragrances everytime I roll the toilet paper.
      So many times I find myself buying into that First World Mentality, so many times I find myself believing that I have to right to call "need" what is really my own "want". My prayer today, tonight, is that God would open up all of our eyes, minds, and hearts to help us all to truly want more of what we need and to not need more of what we want.

“Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's need, but not every man's greed.” -Ghandi-

Third-World America...

       I heard a very sad story today. They found a homeless man dead lying outside of a dumpster behind this Christian bookstore on the Northwest Side of San Antonio. In case you're wondering, I didn't read this in a newspaper, but the sister of one of my friends told us this story tonight. Apparently he had been back there for longer than a day and it just took a little while to discover him. She said that his body had originally been in a dumpster, but was found after the garbage people came by for the week to empty out the dumpster. Damn... How sad is that?

      When I heard this, all I could think about was just how sad it is in America. Don't get me wrong, I'm not beating down on America or anything, I just get concerned. The thing is that I think about third-world countries a lot, and I'm not downplaying on the poverty in those places, but sometimes I am curious as to how much of a third-world we have here in America. Only the majority of society cannot see them because we have too many buildings that shield these third worlds from our eyes. Basically, the third world lives in hidden alleys and behind the buildings of the businesses that make up our nation's abundant economy. We are always warned to stay out of alleys and dark places, and sometimes I wonder if this is where they just sit and wait for someone... anyone... a friend... someone to just come along and validate their existence just like Jesus did.

      They are among some of the most quiet tragedies in the world because the truth is that most of them probably do die in some alley or dumpster, and the truth is that probably no one will notice they are dead until the stench of a dead carcass begins to settle and linger after a few days.

There are the obvious places we hide: behind power-lock windows and doors, behind the gates and fences of our communities or our homes and then there are the more unlikely places we hide behind... like behind our "common sense" (our own ideas of what takes priority in life): things like church doctrine, politics, education, and a healthy social life. They are all good things, things needed for society to function, but fire will both cook food and burn people at the same time, depending on how the beholder uses the fire.

Man, sometimes I really wish Jesus was here walking in his body, just to show all of us what really matters. Could it be that we have a third-world here in America and we just do not care for them? Or is that we just haven't been able to see them? Did we not know they were there, so close to us? Regardless, I think we all must answer one question: How will you use your fire?

Currently Listening: Homer Hiccolm & the Rocketboys (Heartbeat Live)

***I put that up there cause I get frustrated that Homer Hiccolm isn't in the xangazon search and half of the time, I'm listening to something of theirs while I write. Well, if I'm writing anything good, I'm usually listening to them, but since they're not on the xangazon search, I usually put up a book that I'm not really reading just to make me sound smart. Jokes aside, Here's a tip: Listening to good music helps you write better. Anyways.

P.S. If you haven't heard of Homer Hiccolm, you should go and listen to them at "www.myspace.com/rocketboys". My favourite song right now is "Heartbeat Live"

***I was asked if I was married today. That's right, I started working at Pappasitos today and for the most part I did a lot of listening to other people today, but somewhere in the mix a girl asked me if I was married because I wear this ring on my left hand. It's one of those James Avery rings with the cross on it. It doesn't really symbolize anything for me, which is what she was wondering. I wear it there because it fits comfortably on that finger as opposed to the right hand ring finger (bottom line: I'm just not a jewelry kind of guy, but it's a gift so I wear it.)
      Anyways, I had two rotations today and in the second I felt like I was standing around a lot when it started, so I just kinda followed the other waiters around and they were really cool about it. Two in particular, Katie and Deborah, gave me this thorough rundown of my checklist today. They were both really cool, but the best part was hanging out with Claudia and Stefanie at the Hostess stand. Nothing against Katie and Deborah, but Claudia and Stefanie are pretty funny and laid back so they joked around alot while they ran through the checklist with me. Also, they weren't as tied down and rushed as Katie and Deborah (who are waiters). I got to try all the salsas (sauces) they have there today and got to snack on some of the food as apart of my training so that way I would be familiar with the products, and that was tight. Tonight though, I gotta do some major studying of the menu because I'm tested on a portion of it tomorrow. I doubt it'll be as hard as they say, but I'm not going to underestimate them when they tell me to study. Next shift is tomorrow at 10am and then I'm off on Friday.

***Here's something I wrote on my other blog:

       I wish we didn't sell Jesus, ya know what I mean? If you call yourself a Christian, you've had to have heard the speech about Jesus "buying" us at a price, yet somehow we still manage to believe we can sell Jesus to some non-believer who just might buy him. Maybe that's why so many people I know eventually turn away from Jesus, because someone gave them the impression that he's a product and all you have to do is buy him, and if you buy him, then he will do wonders in your life. All the while, the thought to regard Jesus as someone who has given everything he has to purchase our freedom to know him has never crossed our mind. Jesus is magic they say, but when we find out he's no magician, no wizard who will fix all of our problems at the flick of a wrist, Why should we want him?

Don't sell Jesus, he cannot be bought.

***Check out the new rating system on Xanga. Just in case you're wondering, this post is "A" which means it is suitable for all ages to read.

When the World is Ending

Everyone is trying to learn something.

      That’s what we do. In little simple ways we did it as children, but nothing extremely difficult because most of the time we were preoccupied with climbing trees or exploring imaginary lands in part of the game we created with our friends. But as we start getting older, learning things is all we ever really do. We abandon the elementary and give way to the demands of society who urges us to learn, learn, learn. Learning is good though, but it’s extremely difficult and the thing that just about kills me is that I find myself learning things I don’t really care about. Like the Space Program. It might make someone else tingle when they hear about NASA’s new discoveries on Mars and how they’ve found traces of water on the planet, but I don’t really care about that. It’s just not important to me, not the way that life is. And by life I don’t speak in general terms, I just mean things like death, love, my reason for existing, etc. I’m not saying I’m deep or anything, but the more I think about life, the more questions I have. Currently, every question I’ve had lately all sort of leads me back to one question. How do I love someone other than myself?
      Because I think about being born, and I think why I’m born, and my guess is that surely I wasn’t born to entertain myself and only myself, but instead that I would interact with someone who I meet at the grocery store or at the post office. And if I think about death, all I can think is how I don’t want to die alone. If I think about the meaning of my life, all I can think is that I can’t make meaning by myself. That’s like being a self-proclaimed anything, it’s just not that credible. Which leads me to wonder about just how much other people need to be involved in my life, and how I need to be involved in theirs, but how? How do I let them know me and how do I get to know them? Or, another way of looking at it, is how do I let them love me and how do I ever love them? Letting someone love you, is easier, I believe, than loving someone. I think primarily this is the reason guys get addicted to porn, because it totally neglects any love for the woman you’re watching. And the only reason a guy looks at porn is to satisfy himself. I mean, I can sit there and tell someone all my problems and let them see me under an exposing light, but to try and love them back, to move somewhere by myself is so difficult. Even when someone hurts, I just about die inside because I don’t know how to love them. Even when I want to love them, I just can’t seem to grasp everything within me and move to help them. It’s not at all that I don’t want to, I just don’t know how. And the worst part of it all is that even when I want to reach out and help them, there’s a selfish thought or some demented motivation that lurks around my gut area and begins to swirl in my head. It’s like it’s haunting any goodness that I have inside of me. I want it to change, I just don’t know when it will, but I believe it will.
      I had this dream once where the world was ending in Houston (though I had never been there at the time of the dream) and everyone was out killing each other in the wake of buildings that had been burned into these molten memorial sites of something that used to be good. As all of this is happening, God is standing in the parking lot of the only building that hasn’t been destroyed yet. The building is a hotel I was planning to stay at, and God was in the parking lot talking to my cousin about only God knows what. In my dream, God had taken the appearance of a pastor I had heard a few weeks back named Todd while I was at a church camp. I struck somewhat of a furious pace towards him out of desperation that had been spurred from all the chaos when all of a sudden I found myself standing above a story that had been written in childlike script on the gravel of the parking lot with what seemed to be a piece of chalk. As I read it, I quickly learned it was the story of my life; from the time I was born, all the way up to when I was in Boy Scouts at the beginning of my eight grade year.
      My life was really miserable then: my father had just abandoned our family for a woman who was a close friend of the family, 3 drive-by shootings, a swat team had raided my house, depression was leaking from everyone’s eyes and lips and from the walls of our house as well, 2 of my brothers had tried committing suicide, the area around my mother’s eyes became swollen and red because she cried nearly every waking moment of my 8th grade year, I was failing school, and lastly we were poor because our Father took all of our money.
      These were the types of things I had just read about before the I read the part about being a “First Class” Boyscout. The thing is, though, is that I got really angry when I read it because it looked like someone had smeared the rest of it to the point where I could no longer read it. Immediately, I ran to God assuming that he would fix this problem, and for some odd reason I kind of knew this was a dream and that possibly I could learn about things in the future since I always read about God doing it with people in the Old Testament. So I butted into his and my cousin’s conversation,
      “God, listen, I really need your help because, see, someone has written all of my life across the parking lot with a piece of chalk, but the problem I’m having is that someone has seemed to erase everything that happens after today and I’m pretty upset about that because it was there! It’s not like we don’t know what’s going to happen already because someone had written it out… Listen, I just want to know what it says. Can you tell me what it says?”
      And then, he just looked at me like his heart had just broke, and his chin kind of curled under his lip as his brow pushed together and his nostrils sort of flared up. With this look, I held a real hopeless one on my face because life seemed to really suck and all I really wanted was for it to be better, and what was hurting the most was just how vulnerable I had made myself to God, a figure that most everyone wants to believe in, but has the utmost difficult actually doing so. His stare at me was piercing, kind of like when someone says good bye to you and you know you’re not going to actually see them for a very long time; perhaps your sibling or significant other is going off to college and it won’t be for another year that you see them, or perhaps your wife is dying in her hospital bed and you feel that this is the last time you’ll see her stare at you until you die too. That kind of stare.
      In a very soft voice, almost a whisper, he said firmly,

      “Don’t let Go.”

      The next moment I knew I was lying awake on the mattress in my room that laid bare across an almost empty apartment floor. I was really shaken, but that dream made me feel something. I felt like I was privileged to the secret that most people didn’t know. All I had to do was hold on and not give up. It made me feel like I had just entered into reality for the first time in my life. I had a similar feeling laying in a bathtub once.
      The tub was filled to the brim with water and my body floated for 20 minutes or so, and after I had washed my hair and my body, I let myself float again and then with my toes I pulled the plug and let all of the water drain for a few minutes. I laid still as the water began to pull itself down across my stomach and my body slowly began feeling gravity again. When the last drops slid down the drain, I tried to lift my arms to the top of the tub and stretch the rest of my body in the same manner I did when I wanted to float. Instead of floating, my arms felt three times their normal weight and it was somewhat uncomfortable and painful to stretch my body out like I previously had.
      The more I did this in the bathtub, the more I began thinking how sometimes we have this ideas about what could make life better and it’s just like floating, and all of a sudden when the plug is pulled from underneath us and the water begins to drain, that is when reality begins to set in. When all of a sudden you realize there are no formulas for a better life; that no matter what you try to satisfy yourself with, selfishness will always leave you hurting and empty; that the problems you had when you were a kid will never go away; that the only way to have meaning is to love someone else besides yourself. And however difficult it is to do this, you just can’t give up and let go, but instead you try to learn how to give away and let someone have what is most precious to you, what is most prized to all of us. Love. That unadulterated friendship and selflessness which all of us thinks about at night when we lay in our rooms, alone in the dark, right before a voice begins to sing in our sleep about how we shouldn’t let go.
      What I want to learn is nothing that will give me a 6 figure salary or a life of luxury, but what I want to learn is to love other people. I want to step beyond the academia and formulas that beg for my attention in a society like today’s that demands you be educated and to crash through to some form of very needed foolishness. All I really want is to be apart of other peoples’ lives and I want them to be apart of mine. If that means not letting go, even when it hurts, then I'll pull through the night until dawn comes.

New Job!!

WOO HOO!!! I GOT THE JOB AT PAPPASITOS WORKING AS A WAITER!!!!!


Man, I tell you, God is faithful. So, if you're in San Antonio some time this summer (give me like 2 weeks for training), come find me at Pappasitos Cantina and I will be your waiter... PEACE!!!

Dallas

I'm in Texas now, but there will be a considerable silence on my blog until I get back to San Antonio and am situated. Until then, I say Peace and it's good to be back in the states.

(This post was published a little later than I am expected, as I am actually now in Abilene re-posting this.)