this christmas, i'm a vagabond.

i'm glad that packing all my earthly belongings still isn't completely foreign to me. and you know, i still got it in me. i mean, it's genetic.

my family is short-selling our house. that means get ready to go at any time. after moving at least 11 times in my lifetime, i've learned to prioritize what to keep and what to leave behind. nevertheless, it's all going to burn. but i love how God gives us the ability to loosely hold on to things that have affected our souls for the timebeing.

more and more i'm learning to keep less and less.

less clothes that, in the words of ben gibbard, "hang like ghosts of people i've been."
less stuffed toys (except russel. i'm never giving away russel).
less shoeboxes of stupid "friend"ships past (except that one *points*).

more photographs that i've taken since i've met you (those are the only ones worth keeping).
more notebooks filled with words i would and could never say out loud (except that one fiction "work." i'm getting rid of that crap).
more souvenirs from places other than this creatively stagnant valley.

moving on is a nice thing. however, i've always thought that physically moving on is a better thing. whether that be throwing stuff away or packing my things for walls of a different color, it's liberating.

i'm blessed to have been to the places i've been. to have met the people i have met. to have seen the skylines i've seen. but i could not have experienced them without leaving the former things behind. if it takes sacrificing the temporal for the infinite, so be it.

this christmas, i'm a vagabond.
i live for this.

songwriteration.

i never really knew what to say when people ask me how many songs i've written. granted, i have written a few that were sufficient enough for people to sing along to, but insufficient for me to have confidence enough put them on a record. what has already been recorded are more like demos to me, no matter how many hours it took to lay multiple tracks down.

let's not even talk about the volumes of moleskin pages of widowed verses. well, i suppose we can talk about them a little bit. i find it frustrating that i can almost never find enough words to finish a song. also, i genuinely stink at writing choruses. i have years of unfinished melodies and undeveloped words that you may never read or hear. there's this pang i get listening to songs i've "finished" writing and cannot help but feel unfulfilled and dissatisfied. and i'm the one who wrote them. to think what other listeners may think... "that.... that's it? no more?"

collectively, all these equal bad songwriter.
i have been trying to swallow this pill, but even doing that is frustrating.

i mean, i like writing songs no matter how much of a lost cause each phrase may end up being. no matter how empty the rest of the page will eventually be. even if no one will ever hear it. even if i find another musician coincidentally get famous with some lyrics or melody similar to mine. perhaps even if i may never sing these words ever again.

i will write.
whether you know it or not.
whether i like it or not.
i will write.

commence next life chapter.

driver's license?
check!

dearly beloved.

You are God. Immutable. Eternal. Righteous. Holy. Gracious. Merciful. Loving. Creator. Sustainer. All-becoming One. Savior. Friend. Father.

My heart grieves. The parting brethren, the wavering followers, the unripe witnesses. Father. There are too many them. My brothers and sisters in Christ are treading on doorsteps they should not. Oh, how I feel like I am losing family members day by day. I know that You wish to sustain their surrender, but where is their surrender to begin with? How can surrender be sustained if surrender never existed? The enemy has been manipulating their surrender. Hands that were once openned are being closed finger by finger, by tolerance of sin by tolerance of sin. The world has been made to look so attractive to them. I see a deceiving compromise, an epidemic of the enemy's foothold.

Dad? Have we fallen so far that we have turned a deafened ear to Your Spirit within us? I can almost hear You pleading within the cages of their ribs, but they do not hear. There are voices out there similar to Yours, made just as inviting as Yours. They may even have little, if any aspect of Truth within them. But these voices are not of You. May we follow the charge of Christ to be ever mindful of every doctrine that could sway us. Better yet, may we be so saturated in Your Word that there will be NO opinion, trend, culturally-accepted concept, or humanistic movement that we could accept apart from You.

Your Word is eternal. Irrefutable. Unalterable. Profitable. Absolute

Your Word is everlasting. It is living and active now just as You are, just as it was when You spoke it. It has never died. It has never slipped into dusty libraries with history books and encyclopedias. It is here now. In my hands. In my heart. On my lips. It is all I need to eat and drink in this life. May I never depart from it. In a world of an adulterated concept of morality and knowledge, Your Word stands true.

Daddy? Please hold me closer. I pray that I may love my wandering brethren. I pray that You make me an equipped and informed witness of You. Not one of eloquent speech and convoluted vocabulary, but one who simply bears the Gospel in its simplicity. One who carries the name of Christ with distinction, humility, and uprightness.

I pray that one day, the song of their heart will be that which is of mine.

Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming Love.

Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
Hither by Thy help I'm come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood.

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

Here's my heart, Lord
Come and fill me once again
I am Yours, Lord
Take and use me, here I am

I love You, Daddy.

Your Child,
Faith

insomnia spent alone.

finally, an empty room.
with the brother sleeping-over somewhere, my room is finally my room for tonight.
no snoring, no dreams that involve yelling...
yes, solitude.


*reclines motionless*


now what?

trudge is a funny word.

well, it's been a while. i haven't been writing much on this thing as i would like, but i'd like to blame the fact that i bought a new cardboard-covered moleskin. so. sorry, blogspot. i've been cheating on you.

it's funny how fast time trudges along and how steadily some of us mature. i say that because i will be on-campus next semester. it'll be interesting having to juggle school, my M199 [free labor, really, for the bible college doing various things like landscaping and dishwashing for 8 hours a week], working at jamba juice, leading the youth, and curfews. i know the Lord'll make a way for these to all work out. if certain things need to be set aside for a while, then so be it. i'm just eager to see how it all plays out.

this summer has been seemingly short. before i knew it, here's vbs. oh, AND regen. next month? school [WHAT? already?]. after that? matt's wedding. like i said, time's a fast trudger. i find it amazing how i've been able to keep up. thanks, God. You're really somethin.

now, onward to finishing my study for the gathering tonight.

*cue abrupt ending*

why must you bring up all the mistakes i've made?

the skyline is coming.
it's closer than it's ever been.
but it looks the same.
i just hope you're right.

let's fix these flat tires and this sketchy engine before we drive.
but let's not wait too long.

allow me to hope.



skyline drive.
by mae.

Sometimes I run, but I'm not afraid.
Why must you bring up all the mistakes I've made?
She makes me smile, but you come around.
The wind in her hair reflects the sunset I see.

You make it seem like it was yesterday.
But we've come a long way out of the rain.
Can't seem to figure out what happens after this.
Why can't I?

Why must you say I made a mess out of things?
I won't believe it.
Tonight feels right like I'm dancing on air.
I'll make it right, I'll make it right.
Pull over to the station and fill up on fuel.
And what will I do?

Sometimes I drive or ride with my eyes closed tight
Because if the skyline looks this way
Then I don't want to sleep tonight.
Never giving up, always seeking light,
We must always try, try with all our might.

untitled.

jam-packed-ba day.

1. i was finally able to work with mark to catch up on things and talk about the Lord.
   
2. i was tested and am now a certified team member.
3. in the event of being certified, i received a swirly pin signifying my certification.
4. my first pay check came in the mail.

yeah, yeah. just three points, but man, it was pretty exciting.
God is good.


in other news.



i need an eye appointment.
i need to take my driving test.
i need to drive.

i need to work more.
i need money.
i need to buy a camera.

=

i need to get creative again.

an old friend.

i haven't found sleeplessness until last night. i can barely remember the last time i saw the sun come up and the moon find rest before i did. until last night, i hadn't had an empty room. andrew was at a sleepover, so the room was void of snoring. all i heard was the clicking noise of my blinds against my window and dogs faintly gossiping in the distance. insomnia, an old friend.

what i did last night to pass the time, i'm not sure. i do remember praying. i remember singing in my head. i remember thinking too much that i cried. i had no music to blanket me or inspiration to fuel me. i had nothing. i haven't felt nothing in a long time.

passing hours with different variations of reclining positions, i was complacent. a busy phone, a bored computer, these electronics were worn out. technology could only help for so long. even friends have to rest. even batteries must recharge. and i have to accept the facts.

Lord, it's just me and you now, i said.

with that, my eyes closed their shutters, and i slept.
i dreamed.

reunion.

wednesday. 14 april, 2009. 10:18 pm.

tonight, i'm going to write. my original plan was to lay down and silently listen to my ipod for the first time in months. now i'm listening and writing. just listening felt awkward to me, like spending time with your long-lost childhood friend.

for the short four-song on-the-go playlist that i made, i couldn't help but try and recollect old thoughts i used to muster up when this was an important part of my life. (i know. four songs is a slow restart, but it's a restart). i figured that i should pick songs that were from random stages of my life.

maybe old thoughts and old lyrics will have a nice reunion.

the first song was "priceless" by copeland. not the best song in the world, nor the best recording. i remember that for the longest time i had no idea what this song was about exactly. i made it about my God. this was a in a "searching" time in my life. whenever i heard this song, i wanted to stand atop mt. soledad, spread my arms and let the wind set the illusion that i'm taking flight. this was also a time in my life that i felt like if i did that, people would think i'm weird. ah, high school.

next: "delicate" by damien rice. damien's lyrics never really paralleled any part of my short existence. although, if this particular era had a melody and a string quartet piece, it would have sounded like this. this song monuments a time when the Lord lovingly cleaned up the shrapnel in my skin and the battle scars. the tender rise of the intensity of the song signified a significant strengthening. i may not have had any friends at the time, but my Beloved was mine.

ah yes. "title and registration" by death cab for cutie. this marked a changing of the times. i had just read perks of being a wallflower and i latched onto inumerable playlists that could be a backing track to that perfect drive. i remember laying down in my bed with the transatlanticism album in my headphones as i closed my eyes and tried to imagine what charlie meant. i was dreaming vivid dreams of being a passenger. eventually, a driver came along. and i listened to this song for fear of shrapnel wounds repeating themsleves. silly girl really had nothing to worry about.

finally, "falling slowly" by the swell season. whenever i heard this song or watched this movie, i was moved. i was reminded of how far we've come. how close were and are to writing songs like this. thank God i ever have someone to share this with.


and so, my playlist continues to grow with time.
chapters and entries are written every minute.

keep listening, keep reading, dear spectator.
we've only just begun.

sincerely,
-faith

selah.

Daddy,

Let me trust in You in this time.
I can't do it.

In Jesus' Name,
Amen.

working girl.

it's weird, really.
when my new boss said that i clinched the job, i didn't react like i would have liked to.
"awesome," i said quietly and indistinctly.

undoubtedly, i was excited to take on the job. my first job. i guess i was overwhelmed with the notion that i have crossed over the dividing line between dependent and semi-dependent with this part-time job. overwhelmed enough that my motor skills shut down for a couple of seconds and all i could squeeze out was a humble "awesome."

earning pocket money is not completely unfamiliar to me.
i am used to doing the mundane and enjoying every minute of it.
but now i'm in a completely different environment with weirdo coworkers and a potentially creepy boss.


Lord, thank You for this job.
I really like smoothies.

a second set of eyes.

i need a camera.
sometimes words are not enough.

to everything there is a season.

so, it looks like i'll be staying for another semester.

i've been praying lately about going to the jerusalem campus for years. YEARS. the time draws nearer that it'd be nice if i had an answer if someone asked me if i'm to go. i believe i already have my answer. the Lord has been closing doors. blessed be the name of the Lord, really. answer: no.

i have a peace about not being able to go. a peace that a lot of people would find bizarre. what is more amazing is the ministry opportunities that are coming around the bend [yes, cliche statement]. it looks like He gives and He takes away. doors are closed, others are opened. every now and then a window. i am competely content with not going.

this could only mean that there is a greater work to be done in california. temecula. calvary chapel bible college. inland valley victory church. the Spirit of God is everywhere and He will lead me as long as i allow Him.


in other news:

i can't wait for autumn to make it's way to the plate. the air is easier to breathe then. the ocean is warmer thanks to our good friend summer. the contrasting colors are inspiring.

but for now, we have summer.
she is beautiful.
but not quite the one for me.
my leah to my rachel.


yet, to everything there's a season.

the fact of the matter.

"things change. and friends leave. and life doesn’t stop for anybody."
-charlie

not too long ago, i had a very unnecessary emotional breakdown. i guess it was the summation of all my fleshly frustration that i compartmentalized in the secluded part of my brain. what i should have taken to the Lord in prayer, i let the quiet things put themselves where they wanted to go. well, this is what i found out:

the world does not stop turning for anyone. may i be the first to admit that without God, i am a very selfish person. to say that was pretty difficult. if there's one thing i know about being selfish, i notice other people are being selfish. see, now this is interesting. i have a weird desire to please everyone all the time. and if any one person shows a hint of frustration, anger, or sadness, i immediate think it's my fault. what a weird contradiction.

well, suck it up, faith.

thank YOU for being a patient, very unselfish friend.
we balance each other out.

the mystery of forbearance.

i suppose you could say that i do and don't struggle with patience.
but patience has always sounded like a diluted word.
endeavoring should be the term.
bearing.
then, it suggests a burden.
in a way, it is also tolerance.
enduring ill-treatment without anger.
this multifaceted thing coined patience has never bugged me so much.

i have a weird ability to permit circumstances to affect me. there is a should-i-be-freaking-out-right-now checklist that everything i encounter must pass through. after the checklist, there is an approximate three minutes of rambling and fast-paced punching demonstrations that occur in my head. all this followed by the reassuring embrace of the Holy Spirit.

God has never ceased to show up and turn the burner down. there is beauty in "let patience have its perfect work." looking at history, it's nothing but a story of God's patience, His loving striving with the heart of mankind. it's a romantic comedy of a wooing Lover.

i guess i'm the beloved.
the impatient beloved.
there, i admitted it.

i'm having one of those days. it's one of those days that after every song you listen to you are inspired.

now, don't mistake these days with those other days that you listen to songs and you get frustrated because you can never write like that, so you go on a neurotic-writing phase hoping that one of the sixty songwriting attempts will turn out decent.

but, no. not one of those days. today, you want to write because someone else proved that it's possible to write how you've always dreamed to write.

white as snow.

i find the process of sanctification humbling, the grip of denial loose, the nature of man wretched, the embrace of forgiveness healing, and the depth of love immeasurable.

the Lord supernaturally intervened today. there was an ache in my head and a pang in my heart from the screaming, jealous Spirit within me. this time, He arose victorious as He raised me from the dead yet again. the gentle hand of mercy tilted my chin to the heavens and i raised my voice and wept. just as i asked, He restored unto me the joy of my salvation.

victory at last.

oh, praise the One who paid my debt
and raised this life up from the dead!

poppa chuck and baby names.

chuck smith is coming down today. that's exciting. i would love to turn to my children when driving them to school and say, "you know kids, i met chuck smith when i went to bible college." woah, mom! that would be nice.

i cannot say that i have not thought about names for my kids. you know, i am a woman with an inherent tendency to have my wedding planned out by the age of seven. of course i would have names for my kids. after experiencing high school, i had already established in my mind that i do not want any daughters. why? girls are stupid. then again, that would automatically rule out the purpose of liking the name madeline [mad-eh-line] and the nickname maddie. okay, Lord... maybe ONE daughter.

this is not a focused blog.
and i have to go to romans class to turn in a project and take my final.

*cue abrupt ending*

begone, ye wretched high school spirit.

it troubles me a bit to think that a body called to unity can be so quietly disobedient to that call. perhaps it's wrong of me to take the example of one and magnify it enough to blanket everyone else. but what can you expect if you are expected to be a representative of the student body. your fault.

you can ask what brought me to this uneasy notion. i suppose you can say that i had a weird experience of backwards nostalgia today at lunch.

i cannot remember the last time someone pulled an extra chair to their table just as i was approaching it... to find these words repel me: "oh, sorry... [someone] is going to sit there." i look around. this [someone] isn't there. i make a silent protest by sitting on the table immediately next to it about-faced. i almost felt more rude than they were. thank goodness for witnesses of this heinous chair circumstance, i was rescued from a deepening pit of "righteous anger."

(of course i'm exagerrating. let's not forget that i'm giving you a nice glimpse from the perspective of the cynical part of my brain.)

just when i thought i left high school, i found that not very many people did.

as the best friend knows the phrase "wow, rude" resonates around every corner as a common expression on the lips of every bible college student to the point that it's almost a sign of endearment. it's funny how i'd like to use that word for what it really means.

Lord, save me.
I'm doing it again.

i should stop this entry before it gets any worse.
before i start raising the old cynic from the dead.
and she would like that very much.

hey, girl-who-couldn't-spare-a-seat.
girl-who-must-humble-herself wants to say sorry.

that's me.

saturated skies.

i don't think i have ever been a fan of grey days until recently. now that i think about it, i like rain when i'm not in it. i like to see the beauty in mirroring asphalt and prismed windows. the swaying of trees with violent leaves. desperate people huddling under an umbrella. i like seeing stuff like that.

i read about charlie a few days ago. someone told him that he needed to participate more. whatever that means. i guess it means that i need to be less of a loser and participate more.

i guess it's nice to be a spectator.
could it possbily be better to be a part of the production?

when can i know?
my planners kind of full this week.

semester two.

here comes another semester at the bible college. and to think that i almost couldn't pay for this semester. it just goes to show that if God wants something done, He'll bring us to our point of faith/desperation (emptying our bank accounts) to leave room for Him to do it. sometimes we get in the way. i can attest to that.

i was an alien. i once did not belong to any promise. but because of the blood of Christ, i was bought. adopted. grafted. now i'm a broken vessel. i am His workmanship, poema: His masterpiece. and a poem must reflect the Poet with beauty and grace. as more is written, more is added. here comes more beauty and grace. guided solely by His skillfull hand, i am being perfected. a fixed vessel. something He can live in, live through.

i am a child. i live according to His promise.
and because of the blood of christ, i have Hope.
i am Loved.
and there's nothing i can do to make Him love me any more or any less.

i can attest to that.