Loco Familia.

For the Spanish-American waiter it is probably rare for a “gringo familia” to respond to him in his native language.  At least, we think he spoke Spanish.  After stumbling over his pronouns, and adjectives he hurried off to start our order.  We are strange like that, not your typical American family.

Mom and Dad are very cultured.  They know their way around the world.  In my short seventeen years I have been to England, France, Nicaragua, The Bahamas, and Canada.  I’ve found my way around the United States as well.  My favorite has always been Nicaragua (located in Central America). 

When we scheduled my first trip there, I was so excited; we gathered medical equipment, packaged food, and scrubs (medically sterile clothing). But since it was six months off, the excitement faded a lot over the next couple weeks.  We went on with life. 

Christmas was coming soon and we were all abuzz.  It’s always been an unspoken competition between my siblings and I, to see who would get my parents the best presents.  We would always interrogate each other trying to figure out what the other kid’s present was, until we would either get socked or chased.  What we didn’t know is that Dad had gotten the best present of all.

Christmas morning rolled around; the 8:00 rule states, very clearly, that we are not to even move an inch from our beds until the clock say 8:01.  At 8:02, we have a headlong collision elbowing our way to the living room.  As we sit and fidget on the couch, we make uncommonly loud noises trying to wake up Mom and Dad without getting in trouble. Finally, we open stockings, read the Christmas story, get dressed, ate brunch, all the while clamoring for our parents to hurry up and let us give them their presents.  We don’t really like receiving as much as giving. Giving is more fun.  But we had a huge surprise when Mom’s turn came around. 

Her eyes got real big when she opened up a Spanish program, lovingly dubbed the “Generic” Rosetta Stone.  It definitely was the highlight of that Christmas.  It too was soon forgotten in the rush of family, baking, and frankly the craziness of it all.  We went on with life, and everything calmed down.  One day in January, I guess my mom just woke up and decided to learn Spanish.  She even came running into my room and threw open the shades to let in the sun. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, but I am not a morning person.  At all.  So when she came pounding in, I was all grumpy, of course.  But naturally I was curious to see what she was so excited about. 

When I made my way downstairs I was surprised to see mom blowing the dust off of the ol’ generic Spanish program.  She promptly sat me down in a chair and sat down next to me and then, we learned Spanish.  We learned several different dialects; a couple differed by country, some by provinces.  We traversed to Central America in the comfort of our own kitchen.  When my sister came home, we would crowd around her, crooning out soft words, and then yelling out mispronounced pronouns, all the while, so proud of our “Logros” (achievements).  The Nicaragua trip was getting so close and we were working our butts off to learn any bit of Spanish that we could.  

When the trip finally came around, we packed up and flew off to the Central American jewel.  What I didn’t expect was to find a desolate, horrid, dump.  The crazy thing is that the people are so happy.  Uncommonly happy for their situation.  The children always had smiles of joy when they ran to our clinic screaming “tenemos que ir!-We must go!” as they dragged me to the yard to play fútbol.  I loved that trip.  It taught me a lot of insight on life. 

While we were on the trip, my father bought a hammock. It’s usually tradition for him to buy one every year that he’s gone, and give it to someone. He’s been going there for 18 years.  That is a lot of hammocks.  I believe we have four or five.  Those swinging glories have been a large part of my childhood.  Since I’ve moved to Tennessee, I have missed the symmetrical union of tree and hammock that was available to me for 12 years of my life.  I learned life lessons on hammocks, I sat with my crush on the hammock, I lots of things to remember on hammocks. 

But the best memories I have on the big white hammock, are from books.  I remember getting lost in Mordor with Frodo, and traveling with Aslan in Narnia.  I remember the nights in the warm summer falling asleep in a tangle of hands and feet with my siblings and father, all trying to fit on the hammock.  He would announce that it was time for bed, and we would race upstairs, trying to see who would get teeth brushed, hair combed, and showered first. 

Snuggling down underneath the green canopy, we would lose ourselves in the worlds of C.S. Lewis, and J.R.R. Tolkien.  We would fall asleep under the stars as my dad’s deep baritone filled the air.  He actually put himself to sleep once. It was funny, we all woke up and we couldn’t stop laughing when we saw dad, mouth wide open, and snoring. 

The joy of being a family is a dying art.  My family practices that art with a flair.  Sure, we’re not perfect, but we sure come close in my eyes.  Whenever you have more memories of laughter than crying and more life lessons than not, you know that you are in a very good environment.  I can only hope to transfer this peace and joy onto a family of my own someday.  For now, I just have to buy a hammock. 

This Little Light Of Mine

This Little Light Of Mine

"You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden."

~Jesus

 

Have you ever thought about how many times LIGHT has been used in history?  Before Paul Revere ever went to ride in Lexington, Massachusetts, he had to wait for a signal!  Just like before we make a life-changing decision, we must wait for God’s signal! There is an old song that goes:

This little light of mine,

I’m gonna let it shine

 Those are possibly the most powerful words that a Christian can use. Think about it! What are you pledging to God when you tell him you are his for a lifetime?  You are pledging to be an example of Christ, for other people to see! Do you remember the next part of the song?

Don’t let satan blow it out

I’m gonna let it shine!

That is next important thing! When you are an early Christian it is most important to keep a strong stance against the tricks that the devil has or is putting under your feet! He is always going to try to make you stray, but here is another song that shows how God is protecting you.

He has the whole, wide world in his hand

Nothing, nothing can pull you from the hand of God! The Bible says:” I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. "

John 10:28

No one, not even the devil can snatch you out of the Father’s hand! He loves you so much!

So here’s the punch line: For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.

—John 3:16

So where are you going to go?

Here’s a poem if wrote

I wake up

Take out the dog

Go to work

Try not to yawn

Strange, I hear nothing

Then I hear it

Screeching, it was like it was in slow motion

Then pain

Then nothing

I hear doctors saying, “this isn’t going to work”

I be

I am simply being

I have no body

I hear nothing

See nothing

Say nothing

Then slowly, softly

I see a light

Not harsh but sweet

I don’t have legs

I think myself to the light

I see Him

Surrounded by light

And cherubim

I start to cry but no tears flow

He looks at me and says

“Good job my child, now let’s go home”

So if you were to die today

Do you know where you would go?

Heaven with golden streets?

Or hell down below?

Mercies are new everyday... no matter how disgusting things get

This morning i threw up... and what came to my mind as i watched my wonderful mother clean it and me up, is that God's mercies are new everyday.

Lamentations 3:23 says~

22Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.

23They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

This bucket reminds me of how God always takes the time to forgive us and help us clean up our mess, no matter what you've made of your life.  although just because you have surrenderred you life to God it doesnt mean that the hurt and bad memories will go away... here's a story i heard on forgiveness~

The Fence There was a little boy with a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, to hammer a nail in the back fence. The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Then it gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence. Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there. A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one. Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us.

there is my blog...ttyl