Thinking of Things and Such

“When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it.”

-Winnie The Pooh

One of my childhood favorite characters is Winnie the Pooh. It may be rather silly and I may indeed be too old and ridiculous for it but I simply love Winnie the Pooh. It's not like I'm obsessed or anything, Pooh just hits a soft spot in my heart and quite frankly this quote does too. 


I've felt like this a lot recently. The things I think of don't seem to be quite the same once I decide to express them in words. In fact, the other day I think the closest I came to expressing this idea was when I put on my Facebook that "sometimes I just get too excited and I start to ramble and talk real loudly and probably don't make too much sense but just bear with me because it's something I must really want to share with you." 


I tend to think of myself as a person whose communication skills are quite inadequate for the type of thoughts I'd like to share. Although, I will admit I have gotten better over the last year or so, I am still not at the level I wish I were at. Generally, people have problems because they don't think before they speak; I think that, for me, it is quite the opposite. I think far too much before I speak and therefore, whenever I talk, my words seem incoherent and my ideas are bouncing all over the place. Or maybe it's that I think much faster than I can formulate the words to express the ideas. I'm not sure. I always like to picture my thoughts as all these words that are just rushing towards this tiny door (kind of like in Alice in Wonderland) but it's too many of them and they're going so fast that they crash and are squished at the doorway trying to get out. Basically like a bottleneck effect. But I don't really know how or even if they ever actually get out the door. My imagination just stops there.


Well clearly, I am not incapable of communicating my thoughts. If I were you would have given up reading by now, or at least I know I would have. But my effectiveness is a different story. I'd have to say I feel much more comfortable with written communication instead of verbal. Whatever I say or would like to say, I know in my head makes sense, but when I say it comes out exactly as I think it. So relating it back to my illustration, whichever thought made it out the door first in whichever order, that's how I'll say it. More than likely, it will not make to much sense to the listener. And this is why I like written communication. I can write exactly what I am thinking, see where the inconsistencies are at, and then rearrange them to make sense. Now, not only will others be better able to comprehend my thoughts but, most of the times, I get a more refined perspective on my own ideas. It's wonderful!


I wish I had realized this earlier, it would have been so beneficial. But I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason, particularly my refusal to write. I used to think journaling and writing your thoughts down was a silly girly thing to do. I was never going to have a diary. The thought was simply revolting. Mainly since reading and writing fell under the category of English at school, I thought I would never willingly engage in reading a book nevertheless write for the fun of it. Who would have guessed that I actually enjoy doing both now? 


There are those of us who have a hard time voicing our opinion. I will willing admit I am one of those. I have my reasons why I do it. I don't like there to be disagreement or dissension. I like harmony so I will suppress my ideas for it's sake. But I know there are times when stating my idea wouldn't hurt and in fact may prove helpful. So I encourage you, if you're like me, don't be afraid to express your thoughts. Sure they may be whacky and sure they may make no sense to others, initially. You just got to take baby steps. Write on scratch paper, write a journal, talk to someone who you know will listen. You'll eventually be confident enough to speak your thoughts even when you know people will oppose them. This doesn't mean you will, you'll just be able to. Be so bold as to even start your own blog if you desire. Let me know and I'll surely love to know your thoughts :)

Nothing to Hide

My mom always told me, "if you're not doing anything bad then you have nothing to hide." Recently, I've been heavily convicted of this, so much so that I indeed heard my mom's voice in my head. Without deterring into the situation, I want to continue with what I brought up in the last post, the another value seeing in cultures about the tensions regarding vulnerability, whether or not to expose vulnerability or conceal vulnerability. By vulnerability, I mean weaknesses, flaws, mistakes, etc.


Clearly, I didn't state anything about the situation and thereby concealing it, but it makes me wonder: which is best? What's the difference between being transparent and being vulnerable? Is there a difference? What does it say about my integrity?


I understand that this is America; there's freedom of speech; we can say what we want and do what we want. While everything is permissible not everything is ideal, so where do we draw the line? How much should we really reveal about ourselves online? My dad told me that, according to some studies, many of the kids in this generation are going to have to change their names in order to get jobs because of the amount of things that future employers can find out about them through their social network accounts. It's sad and probable reality, at least to me. So it makes me wonder about the things I'm putting in this blog. How can I share my thoughts without revealing my life? 


I have yet to come up with a satisfactory answer for that one. But to answer at least one of the questions I've posed: transparency and vulnerability are different. To be transparent, is simply to have no fronts, no walls. Your life is inside a greenhouse and everything that goes on in it is visible. To be vulnerable is to be more than transparent, not only can everyone see your life, but they can prod at it. You are risking something.


If you' weren't wondering already, you're probably thinking now "so what?" My brother tells me that I go into many rabbit trails in this blog, but please bear with me I find it these side notes somewhat crucial to understanding my logic and, in general, just understanding me. Anyways, I'm struggling to embrace either one of the two values. I, for the most part (I say this because in my life there are always exceptions), don't mind exposing my weaknesses. But the problem with having your life on blast and open to the public is that people will walk all over you and use your openness against you. On the other hand, if I were to simply conceal my weaknesses no one could truly get to know me as a whole person with flaws and all.


So I wonder, how much can I really say? What am I compromising? I want to be completely honest. My biggest pet peeve is lying. For one, I am a terrible liar. Secondly, I am very gullible. But most importantly, even if I weren't those two, what's the point of lying? If you're not doing anything wrong why hide it? If you want to be a holistic person, the integral and the complete to integrity, why can't you just put flaws out there? Why must you be so careful? 


I wish people didn't take advantage of others then this wouldn't be a problem. I wish that could be so. Yes, there will still be fear of rejection, but you wouldn't have to worry about others trying to use that against you. But that's why we have feelings and we're human and life just is. I just want to be able to be completely open and honest and sincere with you, but, I guess, prudence refuses to let me do so. And it makes me sad.


But on a bright note: I am reminded once again that in these values there is neither right or wrong, it is merely a continuum. And even if there was a right and wrong, I can be comforted by the fact that I know my intentions aren't to blame. When and if I conceal my vulnerability, I am being prudent and waiting for the right time to expose then like my momma taught me; and when I expose my vulnerability, I am being open and humble (humble only if I don't do it for the express purpose of being humble because then that truly isn't humility). 


One thing I know for sure and one thing I will not be swayed from. In this world and modern era of relative truth there is one ultimate and absolute capital t Truth. We've heard the saying "the truth shall set you free" right? I just recently heard about a different look on this saying. Read it in its entirety and then you will understand what it truly means. "Then you will know the truth, and the truth shall set you free." "Then" implies a conditional statement which is (Jesus speaking) "If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples." Oh how I wish we could all understand that. The truth, which isn't just what is true, isn't just what is true for you or for me, it isn't what makes sense and is logical or what is experiential and you have to live it. It's something bigger than that, it's bigger than life. The truth, the truth can be found if you not only understand the teaching but if you apply it and live it. Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free and you'll have nothing to hide.

Must Be Worth It

So in one of the classes I am taking we are reading a book that takes a look at a model basic values that more or less define culture. To the author of the book, there are six pairs of contrasting traits.  Being an immigrant in America, I can see how my personal values are mixture between those of my cultural background as a Hispanic and those of the environment I've been raised in for the majority of my life, aka the US. As a result, I find myself either in conflict as I pull away from the traditions of my parents (which younger generations tend to do anyways, for better or worse) or I find myself right in the middle of with no preference for either trait.

As I finally caught back up in the reading of this book (I promised myself I will keep this one resolution), the last two pairs of contrasting traits I read about I noticed were two things I've been struggling with for a while now. The first value is called tensions about self-worth, with the two traits being status focused or achievement focused. The second one is tensions regarding vulnerability, with its two traits being willingness to expose vulnerability or a concealment of vulnerability. 

I am not sure how good I am at describing these but I will give it a go. I will dedicate a blog for each because I could talk about each forever. So I'll cover the second one soon. The first one deals with how we value people. Do we look to their personal achievements or do we look at their societal standing? In general (because we can't really generalize everything), America, as a country that values individualism, will value people according to what they have accomplished. In America, people love the underdog story, the rags to riches story, and people are given praise for their accomplishments. In another culture, let's say the Yapese because they're the example given in the book, people see their worth not through merits but through birth and social rank. Now keep in mind, neither value is good nor bad. What my professor always refers to is that these values are on a continuum with the contrasting pairs at opposite ends and your beliefs just fall somewhere in the middle. It just depends in which culture you're in to see how well your view is accepted.

For me, I feel like I am an extremist. Well, that probably isn't necessarily a good label, just the one that always pops into my head every time I to think of the way I do things. I'm either all or none. I like to either dress up entirely or be a complete bum. I work really hard or, once again, bum around. (Quite frankly, this may just be a fight against my laziness). In all honesty, I know I do not have the greatest self esteem and either measure of valuing people trips me up. I will respect others simply for who they are, their title, because in someway they merit, even if by birth they've had to do something to maintain their reputation. I also will respect others because of their achievements because clearly they deserve honor where honor is due. But when it comes to myself, I find it difficult. 


There's a term MLK Jr. calls "drum major instinct," in which it shows people's desire to be the best and rise above even if that means pushing others down to get to the spot, yet all the while not feeling up to one's own standard. So it becomes a cycle, and I can see that in my life to some extent. I would like to hope I haven't pushed anyone down to better myself but I know in my head I am proud and find myself comparing to others to see some good in me. My brother never fails to remind me I was salutatorian, for some reason I think he's more proud of it than me.But as I do that I realize I am not good. "There is no one good among us, not not one." 


I guess, in complete honesty, I just don't want to find my worth through my accomplishments or through my family as great as a reputation and heritage they've given me, that is empty. My worth, your worth, comes through something greater, something everlasting, something un-created, something unfathomable. How can you put a price on something priceless? Your worth comes through the simple fact that you are who you are, and you are a creation of God. And more than that you are HIS personal creation. God, the Sacred, the Divine, the Other, whatever you wish to call It, Yahweh, creator of all this universe, of all there is, loves you, loves you personally, with all your apparent flaws and oddities, everything that you are, whatever you are, He loves you. He, who is the essence of love, who IS love, finds you worthy of love. You must be worth it.


At some point in our life, we struggle finding purpose and worth, but don't worry you're not alone. You're never ever alone. If that ever seems to be the case, you know where to find me :)






"Once you know this Jesus, there's nothing better for you" :)
-  She Said, The Walla Recovery

I'm Weird

We all have our own mannerisms and peculiarities. Some are very common, and so many other people do the same ones too that we don't even consider them. Others are just quirks that make us unique. I, quite frankly, have come to the conclusion I'm just weird.

It's okay though. What would be weird is if I wasn't weird. Although at times, I think I am way out there. My mom always said que estoy en la luna, meaning my heads is in the clouds (literal translation is: I'm on the moon....which would be cool btw). Which is why I am so oblivious and lack  "common sense." I put that in quotes because i find that what is obvious to others is not generally to me, but what to me seems clearly evident isn't necessarily for others. We just have different trains of thoughts. 

But back on the original train, have you ever wondered why you do things how you do them? I mean, have you seriously sat there and just traced it back to the moment where your habit became a habit? For a long time I was simply lazy and didn't do it, although I was aware of the fact that I could do it and I would have a cool little insight on how I function, I just didn't feel like it. Then, sometime after taking a psychology class, I wanted to know why I did things the way I did but I was really afraid that if I really thought about to much I would uncover something my mind had repressed that I really didn't want to remember. I have come to the conclusion that my forgetful nature has been quite a blessing to me because it allows me to stay optimistic about life. 

Well recently, after some serious daydreaming, I've come to realize the source of some of the things which are particular to me, well at least some possible hypotheses anyways. For example, for as long as I can remember I have been afraid of heights. I never really knew why. My brother always just told me that I was most likely just afraid falling. I don't really know which one is right. I think it's more like a combination of both.

Well, I sat down and started to think of the first time I remember actually being scared of heights. I couldn't think of an exact moment. I mean, I was like a monkey as a child. I loved climbing trees and on small enough hallways trying to climb up the walls. The only thing I could think of was that all my life, except for about a year and the when I started college, I've always had a bunk bed. And I've always slept on the bottom bunk. Then I wondered why did I never change. For one, because I'm the younger sister and my choice is automatically overruled, plus I was already accustomed to it. But, here is my moment of enlightenment, I didn't sleep on the top bunk because ever since I was little I've always rolled around and kicked about in my sleep. So to protect me from myself, I slept on the bottom bunk so if ever I rolled off the bed in my sleep the fall to the floor wasn't as bad. So, I guess, subconsciously I've figured anything higher than a bunk bed meant there was a possibility of me falling, thus I was afraid.

I literally just figured out the other day, and I am still somewhat amazed. It may sound silly to you, but I am convinced if you psychoanalyze your own behavior you'll be flabbergasted with yourself. Take my next mannerism/habit/whatever you call it for example, I am a tomboy. Well sort of, if you know me you could probably find a better description. I love playing sports, hanging out with guys, being rough, farting, being a bum, playing video games (which I suck at), eating, talking like a bro, saying bro man and dude and stuff. Basically yeah things like, that and don't get me wrong I still have a girly side, I like dresses and stuff, but being careless like guys can be so much funner. Anyways, I've begin to wonder why do the poo do I do that? 

I've traced it back to this: When I was barely three years old, my mom passed away to cancer. So during those formative years where little boys identify with their father and little girls with their mothers, I had mainly my father and my uncles. Though eventually my dad remarried to my wonderful mother, I guess by that time I had grown very close to my dad. Now there's no reason to like pity or anything. I beg you please don't. I've been blessed with a wonderful family, and though there were hardships to get there, that's what needed to happen. And like I said, my forgetfulness served as a blessing too so I could grow and be a happy child. 

So upon this realization, I've gained a whole new perspective on myself. Crazy how life shapes you and you don't even realize it. Ignorance is really bliss and for while I wholeheartedly believed that I could keep my innocence forever through being ignorant of certain things. But I wasn't going to be able to grow up like that. I'm still trying to reconcile that idea, but we'll see how that goes. I'll give you a heads up if I ever do, meanwhile maybe you can get to know yourself a bit more and perhaps I can get to know you too :)

It Just Hit Me!

I had a really interesting thought earlier. But, sadly and not so surprisingly, I forgot it. Forgetfulness tends to be something too characteristic of me. Perhaps this next thought may be half as brilliant as I think the previous one is, whatever it was anyways.


Not to long ago, I read the book The Five Love Languages, Singles Edition. The book basically talks about five different ways that we show love to others and receive love from others. And this is not just romantic love, while it can be, but love as it truly is: an action, a divine way of interacting with others. Not to sell the book short or make you not have to read (I think is a fantastic book that anyone who wants to should read), but there are five types of "love languages:" words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service, and physical touch. Every person has one of these "love languages" they are fluent in. It's their primary love language, how they interpret love and (generally) how they show love to others. They can receive love through the other love languages too, but when some one else speaks or fails to speak their particular love language they feel specially loved or unloved.


Anyways, I would really love for you to read it so I won't go to deep into, but to the point I was trying to make: I realized that my love language, the way I receive love most easily, is through words of affirmation. This means that when I'm complemented or told nice things, I feel real good about myself and most importantly, I feel loved. I remember those lovely things or that simple statement the entire day. Conversely, when I am told negative things, I immediately feel poopy. Words take a  hard toll to my heart, in both a negative and a positive manner. 


In addition, to the way I relate to others, Words of Affirmation being my primary love language helps explain many things. For example, I've always loved word games like Scrabble and TextTwist and the like. I love puns and wordplays. Silly knock-knock jokes crack me up! Let me share one of my favorite corny jokes: What did the volcano say to the island? I lava you!! Kinda lame I know but that's just me :)


My quest for patterns and wordplay is never ending. Recently, I realized probably the most significant wordplay to me in the personal. About two years, I was reading in James chapter 4. The subtitle for the section was "Submit Yourselves to God." Around that time I was having some personal issues and I understood the direct message of literally letting God take control of my life and, simply put, submitting. But in my idiosyncrasy, I looked for something more than that. I like to think that God is a super genius planner and that He does things that to some one it has one meaning and a different meaning to someone else and to another person and another, etc. yet in His perfectness His individual message is given to all those people. And for me, since He knows I overthink things, He has like an allegorical writing specially for me that I can spend a bunch of time analyzing only to realize that the "hidden message" is: keep it simple silly. BUT that's just my theory, I think God knows I'm silly and since He has such a great sense of humor, He plays along with me. But yet again this is only my opinion.


Anyways, I digress. When I was reading James 4, the word "submit" stuck out to me. I kept on looking at it and I thought about the meaning, looked at it in context, considered the etymology, etc. When I got around to considering the etymology, it was clear: sub - mit. Sub- meaning below. At the time, I was receiving my college acceptance or better yet rejection letters. I had applied to MIT, and I already knew I was going to be rejected but I had a free application and thought it was worth the shot. Smart, minority, female student with a lot extra-curriculars. There was a little bit of hope in me. My dreams of college had been shot down because of several complications that are far to great to name right now, that this was the conclusion I came up with: not only was I below MIT standards (sub-MIT), my efforts throughout all my schooling had been rendered useless because I wasn't good enough. Or so I thought.


So the word submit has stuck with me since. God had a change of plans when it came to college and He provided a grand door hundreds of miles away from home but definitely a great plan. When I started school, one of the first classes I took was pretty introspective and reminded me of my very submissive way of being. Being the youngest girl in my family, I've never really been good a voicing my opinions (though that has been changing for the best). I am a pretty fantastic follower, you won't hear much dissidence from me (well know you might). Basically, the point is the word came up again. I didn't understand the significance til another year later.


Last summer, I more or less realized what I am going to do in the future: I'm going to be a bi-vocational missionary! More specifically particularly to Muslims. It's something that just kind of hit me, all of a sudden it was clear to me. And now this semester, I am taking a class about Islam. I'm pretty sure I knew this before, but like the latter statement, it just hit me! Islam means submission. SUBMISSION. I was simply flabbergasted. A simple six-letter word has led to the second greatest realization of my life! Muslim means one who submits. I'm still mind blown.


I am convinced God gave me my quirks so I could understand Him uniquely and grow to love Him uniquely. I'm sure we all have some special connection to God. We are made in His image. What's yours? :)

Just For a Season

The other day I saw a picture of my elementary school yearbook. Even just looking at it, not even the people in the pictures, brought back some really good memories. It's weird thinking how long ago that was. I'm not even twenty and I feel old. But what weirds me out the most is that then I thought those were going to be my friends forever and we were going to grow up together and all that jazz, and now in the present day, few if any of those people are still an integral part of my life, nevertheless a part of my life at all. 

I think I began to realize in middle school what friends were all about, thinking then, again, that those were going to be going to be my friends forever. Once again, I was wrong. I transferred to a private school were I finally thought this is were I'm going to graduate from and these were going to be my friends forever. Fortunately, I was only halfway wrong. I went for the next two and a half years and finally finished high school at the same school all my siblings graduated from.

I'm sorry if this story seems pointless. I swear there is a point. I have recently realized that I employ a circular method of communication. Basically, I fill you in on the context of the situation before I even mention what I came for from the beginning. Some may call it beating around the bush, but I wouldn't consider it so. It's very common in my culture, which is something I will divulge in another posts. 

So back to the story. The other day, I was talking with a friend from high school and she said something that made me happy. When we graduated high school, I had the privilege to give one of the speeches, and I said something that I got from my very best friend and simply felt like I needed to share. It went a little like: God places people in your life sometimes for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Simple, yet profound.

I know people that are tend to become resentful about failed friendships and relationships to the point where bitterness becomes a character quality for them. It makes me sad because if they only realized that simple little phrase they could move on. 

Think about all the people you encounter on a regular basis. How many do actually foster a relationship with? Rephrase: how many of your Facebook friends are you actually friends with? Most of those people are only briefly in your life, and guess what? It's cool. No worries. They had their reason for crossing your path. Neither one of you may know or realize what that reason is at the moment but eventually, if you chose to reflect on it, you'll see how you needed them for that exact moment and God provided them. It may have been that stranger that smiled your way in a crowd when you were having the poopiest day, and right there they fulfilled their purpose in your life. 

This next category is probably the one that, in my opinion, most people get stuck on. Just like there are seasons in the year, that each have their purpose in succeeding one another, people have their season in your life. The other day someone was real upset and began to tell me that their best friend had passed away recently. I am very grateful, that this particular situation has not occurred to me, but when this person kept on talking i noticed they were stuck. They couldn't move past the fact that their friend was gone. 

This is a slightly extreme case but it can be related to most of us in its essence. Those elementary friends had their season in my life. They were there for me and I was there for them so we could have fun and be kids. I've yet to figure out what my middle school friends where there for, but middle school is just awkward altogether so I figure they fulfilled their purpose in my life too, though some of them crossed my path again in high school. Those private school friends I want to say are here for a lifetime because through time distance and all sorts of constraints I found my best friend out of that bunch. And those high school people, shoot, they definitely had their purpose. They showed me things I wanted to be and things I definitely didn't want to be. They taught me sincerity and dishonesty. They showed me how to weed out what kind of people are true friends and which I just shouldn't deal with. But you know what I'm glad they did. And yeah I made mistakes, I could have done things differently, I could have shown my friends this true love that overflows from me, but even God is using that to help me grow. 

For a long time, I was bitter and shut people out of my life. I had experienced what I thought was betrayal, betrayal of my trust anyways. Right one after another, two people I thought were my best friends, the only people I chose to tell my life to (things I didn't even share with my sister, and if you know me you know that's serious), stopped talking to me for no apparent reason. I'm not a fighter, I'm quite passive so I decided I was still going to be nice to people and listen to them, but I would not let them into my thoughts and feelings. I was going to be people's friends but I'm not sure anyone was actually going to be my friend. But now I can look back and be thankful for the place those people had in my life. It was crucial at the time and yes their departure was abrupt but it was needed. It was just for a season.

People are in your life for all sorts of reasons, maybe you already know why, probably you don't but let me quote Bob Marley on this one: take it easy take it slow. Everything under the sun has its purpose and its time. That includes people and relationships. Work at your relationships but if things don't turn out as you hope, know that there is a reason and we have a hope that there is a far greater purpose. Maybe you learned something from this person that you can use in your next relationship, not just romantic ones may I add. Remember relationship equals time and giving your time equals love. God is love :)

"No one can see the seeds of friendship but the grow into something beautiful." -Winnie the Pooh

Keep On Reading

So I’ve been looking forward to writing again since the moment I posted the first blog. But I had quite a couple deterrents, mainly just homework. And it’s not like the homework was hard at all, just a lot of reading. It was ALL reading. But I pressed on and finished it. Well most 95% of it anyways. In fact, to my surprise, I read ahead.

I've never really been so inclined as to pick up a book and read it. The only time I remember wanting to read was in elementary school, but only because you got points and prizes for reading. Otherwise, I’ve never been enticed to read.

I like the idea of reading. I would love for whenever I have children that they would enjoy reading and be proficient at it. I like the idea of acquiring knowledge, becoming well-read, and as my mom would say being “culto” or cultured. I would love to actually read the classics and quote famous lines. But, my mind doesn’t roll that way.

Thus, this year I came to a resolution. I know you may think it’s a tad late for New Year’s resolutions or for that matter you may have possibly already given up on yours, but for those reasons I very methodically came up with just one. This year, I decided I am going to read.

Every time I think of explaining my resolution I think people will think I’m just being silly or how my brother would joke that my hatred for reading basically makes me illiterate. But neither is true. The reasons I came about this resolution are very simple yet, to me, profound.

1) Educationally- I will actually be doing my homework, entirely. It’s easy to go through school not reading the material and still get good grades. Heck. I think I probably only read one book cover to cover my entire high school career and still managed to be top of my class. But to me, this is a commitment I am making as a student. My job right now is to be the best student I can be, all for the glory and honor to God. As a student my job is to respect and honor my professors. What do I get out of paying for a class that I am not going to do my best in? Shoot. I like what one of my professors makes you do for book reports. He makes you write a statement that says you’ve read 100% of the book before you proceed to writing the report. It’s about your honor, and I absolutely hate lying, even in simple things like that, so that’s one motivation to read.

2) This next one kind of goes with the idea of education but it’s slightly different. If I finish reading, or for that matter start reading, I will actually be doing something I promote. I always admire those who like to read and have an expansive vocabulary and I also tell others, particularly younger kids, that they should read too. But I, myself, have being hypocritical in that aspect justifying myself by saying that it’s a habit you form as a child and it’s too late for me. I want to read not only for my educational purposes but for my personal enjoyment. To me, reading and enjoyment have never fit in the same sentence but I’ve realized that the reason my knowledge is so superficial of so many things is because I don’t want to dig in and read some more. But as of this year that’s changing.

3) It will help me finish what I start. I have a terrible problem. I am scatterbrained. I can’t really concentrate. I am quite surprised I haven’t deviated from my topic yet. My mom always gets at me because I start a million things and leave them all undone. If I finish reading at least a book, I will feel accomplished and hopefully this attitude will extend unto other aspects of my life, such as cleaning…maybe.

4) Lastly, probably most importantly, I will actually read my Bible. Important fact to know: I am PK (pastor’s kid). I know a heck of a lot scriptural references and stories but I don’t know the Bible itself. I recently attended an apologetics conference and have been further inspired to pursue reading, and mainly truly understand what my faith is about. As I said earlier, I’m not asking you to take on my beliefs but this I will tell you: I invite you to question anything I say in these posts. The whole point of this is for me to see what people think about what I think. And if and when you do question me, I will be prepared to have an answer to for the hope that which I have (1 Peter 3:15). 

Well that hopefully that wasn't too much of a convoluted idea. I have so much more I want to say about reading and such but I'll save that for later so maybe you'll keep on reading ;)

For starters, I won't throw my crazy ideas out here yet. I'll have to warm you up to those. So let's start with something simple.


I realized I didn't mention my true inspiration for starting this blog. I've recently become acquainted  with a like-minded person. We've had some pretty neat discussions and they always come back to the same point. 


Kind of reminds me of the way I think. I can start with any initial thought but somehow my mind always leads to the same couple things. Recently, it's had to do a lot with the way people interact with one another. I like to think as life as this big ummm let's call it experiment.


I like to sit back and observe things, people, customs, anything. I don't generally come up with any conclusions though. Just a bunch of observations. I fear that if I follow through with a conclusion it may be wrong and I will incorrectly approach things because of such conclusion. Thus I remain neutral, or just simply objective.


Sometimes, I wish people would just deal with problems like that. Then there wouldn't really be problems. You would be able to see things calmly and unbiased. There wouldn't be misunderstanding, and if there was you would try to reach a resolution with out your own predispositions and views getting in the way. But then there wouldn't be passion, we wouldn't be human.


That's the crazy thing. I wish I could see the big picture, at times. Be able to see outside of myself. I just want to understand others. I wish others would try to understand one another with out their worldview fogging their lenses. I don't mean to sound hippy-ish and new age but there is a little bit of truth in everything we do and are. There is something innate in us that strives for it that reaches out for truth. In that strife sometimes we just go about it incorrectly but that doesn't make us any less sincere.


What I really wish is that I could show love to others the way Jesus did. Because even though He knew everything about the people he talked to, he didn't just call them out and impose his righteousness. He put himself at their level and reached out to them in their own way, he made them feel comfortable, safe, listened to, I don't know but you just know he cared. Now, I'm not saying you have to believe in Jesus. You are more than free to think what you may, and I respect that. But don't you think we should just be better listeners and understander-ers at times? A little more patience and a little more love would do the trick. To me, God is love.

Just A Thought

So this is just a thought I've had for a while. Maybe I should write a blog. And so here I find myself.


Quick intro. My name is Daniela. I'm a college student with a lot on my mind. 


Well then. That was quick enough! Lately, I've been thinking. I think too much. Not necessarily a bad thing, I just have these thoughts and don't know what to do with them. I generally consider myself to be better listener than talker. I thoroughly enjoy hearing what other people have to say about basically anything so I figure maybe some one else is like me and would be curious enough to dig into my mind. 


It's a big mess in there but I am sure that there are some great, wacky ideas that just need to be set straight by writing about them. In my naive mind, I would like to say that there is no way that, almost mathematically improbable, that no one out there has not thought the same thing I have at some point in time. I mean there are billions of people and billions more that have existed before us. I just refuse to belief that what is on my mind has not been in someone else's in some similar fashion. 


I'm just baffled by the world and anything in it. Everything is so intricate and unique yet not, and then again altogether beautiful. I don't really know what the purpose of this blog is other than to explore how amazing and bizarre and fantastic this mind God gave us is.


I don't really know how often or how long I'm going to post but we warned I go off in the most randomest tangents. This is going to be great! :D