Watered down coffee

I am sitting here, not crosslegged or Indian style, but lengthwise and straightlegged. My Mac is providing to be more than enough of a heating source on my lap and thus will probably leave light-pink dots as an afterthought. Or an aforethought?

I am waiting here, not desperately or in suspense, but longingly and lovingly. With every buzz of my phone, I can't help skipping the beats of my heart. Oh, be still my heart. If only the contractions and bursts of blood in and out of my ventricles could be silenced and stilled. Maybe then I could write a proper blog. Or perhaps I should turn off the television. It's ridiculous nonsense that they play in that box.

I am reading here, not wanderingly or in leisure, but with purpose and intention. My Bible speaks lengths into my soul, it stirs up from within a daily transformation and thirst to live the Gospel. I am ashamed of myself, yet proud of the daily triumphs He bestows upon my lowly head. I turn off the television.

Maybe then we can talk?

Shouts

The word "shout" has such intense implications -- that singular noun or verb can bring forth memories of broken parents, stir up mixed feelings of animosity, reverberate scenes from "Sister Act," and maybe even follow through with another duplicate of itself. I hear them now, two voices together in shout. Not shouting. Not even in heartfelt outbursts. But in shout, kind of like in love, but twisted and just as passionate. Why do people shout? Why must the selfishness we craft in craftiness be allowed to fester when it is so damn obvious that the rotting of pride and prejudice will poison and toxify our lungs, our fingertips, our cores? Without my fingertips, I cannot caress your face, lace my fingers into yours, and memorize the sneaky bumps on your chin. Without my lungs, it's so difficult to inhale your scent, so unfortunate to not be able to primitively recognize your presence. Why must we shout in shouts? Let's shout in whispers, in single tears, in wordless nothings, in smirks, and in love. Love. Not shout.

Coming through, pardon me

I swore that I'd start updating this and defy all tumblr issues... tumblr is a disease, dontcha know? I don't understand this reblogging nonsense, aside from the nifty pictures I see every rare century or so. Communication has become such a process of incomprehension, unpardonable touches, informalities, and the like. So what happened to expression? To more than just speaking and hearing, but listening? I'm hearing, I'm listening, your lips twist and pout and form letters of hieroglyphical messes. Do you want me to understand, God? What brought me here in the first place was your "by the way," your uphill clawing, your laboured breathing into my nose, granting me life. A gift above all, I cannot accept this, may your way be blessed and fortunate. Let's escape this, craft an upward spiraling tunnel below the stars, above the sun, and beyond the galaxy. Cliches and grammar rules may wrench my throat apart but in your gaze I falter. Pardon me, I see something beautiful.

2 Corinthians 12:9

Fall semester has started and I'm definitely not in the mood.
However, my progress of studying has gone from 0 hw problems/hr to 5 hw problems/hr! This is great and genuine success. And of course, that success calls for some blogging celebration!
I cannot begin to explain the spiritual transformation that I've gone through within the past few weeks. Something that had been growing and spurting and faltering these past 19 years has finally broken through the ice, bashed through my head into my heart! Oh, what joy it is to truly know the God of the universe. To know beyond the Bible verses and to be enlightened with the salvation that my wretched heart hath sought. Jesus Christ is my Redeemer, and even though I've heard those words so many a time, my ears had became clogged and swimmingly enclosed. It is only for His grace that I have been set free, broken away from the need and the yearning to be like and in the world. For nothing can be wrought of the world, and Satan knows that a watered-down Christianity is all that he needs to win over the hearts of the confused youth.
Let's stand strong and believe what we really believe.
Let's break away from the ideology that raising our hands when we worship kind of maybe means that we're saved.
Let's get to know our Savior beyond capitalizing the "J" in Jesus.
Because He is so much more than that, and coming to terms with such grace means repentance. It has taken me a stubborn 19 years to realize the true meaning of repentance, and I almost despise myself for lagging behind when God has offered to carry me. And because of that, I am even more thankful! How amazing is it to wake up and feel like it is Thanksgiving Day 24/7?
For His grace is sufficient for me.


And....now it's back to studying. What excitementnot. :3

Time to bust out the scissors...

...it's time for a trim.
How awkward is it to wake up in the morning and find out that my hair looks nothing like it did the night before? That, over the course of 6 or so hours, the rag on my scalp has transformed into a complete nutjob.


Was it wrong of me to not tip the waiter tonight, despite the honestly horrible service and overcharging? I felt somewhat bad, somewhat tired, and somewhat resentful when I wrote in capital letters, "NO TIP." Or I could've just drawn a $100 bill on the receipt. Balling.

This summer has been so...disconnected. So full of pieces that don't mesh or overlap or even appear to blend within and without...kind of like this blog, eh? But yet, this summer has been amazing. It has brought me so much closer to knowing the true and truest character of my Savior. In the most unexpected ways, He's brought me so low that I could reach so high and that He could justify His love so desperately for me through the toughest sanctification I've ever experienced within the past 19 years. I am not me, I am dead and He is alive in Me. Only after this summer of ardor has that been made real within my heart. What joy!

Blessed assurance...

For you,

I am going through serious withdrawals.

Cramped Elbows

Nothing to complain about. Things are about as good as they ever get.



Stuff I've beein lookin at besides facebook nowdays:

http://tvbookshop.com
http://www.hennesseyingalls.com/hennessey/
http://referencelibrary.blogspot.com/
http://trackosaurusrex.com/pblog/ (Just for you, Jacob)
http://nothingisnew.wordpress.com/

Yay good stuff.