tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356913192024-03-14T05:23:40.907-05:00Pocket TissuesPOCKET TISSUES: any of several kinds of soft gauzy papers used for cleansing purposes. Disposable thoughts, out of my system and onto paper. Can't be good if it stays in, anyway.nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.comBlogger152125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-91943813919453804342015-06-25T10:39:00.002-05:002015-06-25T10:39:26.821-05:00Poor Today. (or Come, Lord Jesus.)With my lips i<br />
Spoke, Relief!<br />
And with my eyes I saw it<br />
It crept in my windows as sure as the morning<br />
Illuminated my present darkness with mercy<br />
<br />
There are times when all I have is nothing.<br />
When all I can do is plead, beg, borrow.<br />
So lend me your words today.<br />
I cannot afford this sorrow.<br />
<br />
I'll take a poet's stance.<br />
I'll hide behind the herds.<br />
There's no more song, no more dance.<br />
I just need words.<br />
<br />
I'll take God's then.<br />
Wield the sword, the pen.<br />
it's pages', it's laws,<br />
it's pauses, it's maws.<br />
<br />
Anything to articulate<br />
Anything to alleviate<br />
this raw, this flaw<br />
this gash, this jaw.<br />
<br />
I just need words.<br />
<br />
So<br />
<br />
With my lips i<br />
Spoke, Death!<br />
And with my eyes I saw it<br />
They unplugged you from your mortal breath<br />
to usher you into the deep.<br />
<br />
With my lips i<br />
Spoke, Life!<br />
And with my eyes I saw him<br />
reach over to embrace you<br />
carrying you with wings<br />
spanning too wide to measure<br />
<br />
Ascending to where I want to be.<br />
Accession to who I want to be.<br />
Awaiting now my turn to leave with bated breath.<br />
Aching to return in the mean of while, until my life meets death.<br />
<br />
With my lips i<br />
Spoke, Peace!<br />
And with my eyes I saw him<br />
lead me to quiet waters, so still - I could hear my, his, your heart<br />
I'm renewed, back to the start<br />
<br />
For lack of better words, let me borrow yours.<br />
For lack of better years, let me live yours.<br />
For lack of better wisdom, let me hear yours.<br />
For lack of better character, let me wear yours.<br />
<br />
With my lips i<br />
Spoke words<br />
And with my eyes I saw You.<br />
Unflinching, my weary eyes have strayed - now stayed<br />
On you, on yours<br />
See this seal? I'm yours.nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-85477880446141503892010-08-03T00:05:00.002-05:002010-08-03T00:11:37.587-05:00Introduction.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Read my previous post, and realized it didn't make very much sense. But it was a good reminder of where I was at emotionally, and spiritually.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just got done taking care of the beautiful and the shot - Mahto kids. The parents are unfortunately down with the stomach flu. (Please pray for the Mahtos.) As I decompress, I wanted to be able to put my thoughts on paper - so here it is. I have been really blessed to be here at Irvingboro, it's so much better than being homeless. *laughs* I am also definitely indebted to everyone who has been gracious to me and obedient to the Lord's instruction to bless me. That has kept me fed all these weeks.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not too long ago, a good friend of mine told me, "Please don't be offended. But I think you're too apologetic and gullible lately." I did not disagree with him, because it was true. Lately, I've felt an increase in social anxiety and I was trying to figure out where it was stemming from. I've made a lot of communication errors on the way -- and have confused people. I guess there's nothing more to say than this: that in trying to figure this awkwardness out, I have not been able to socially function well. And I can only hope for empathy/grace/forgiveness/</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><wbr></wbr></span></span></span></span><span class="word_break" style="display: block; float: left; line-height: 14px; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">[insert relevant word] from dear friends who've had to bear with me. (Thanks, Jake.)</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tell me what's going on inside of me</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I despise my own behavior</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This only serves to confirm my suspicions</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That I'm still a man in need of a Savior (DC Talk)</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It finally dawned on me what this was all about. It started when I shared with people about my situation with my employment card. I was frustrated about : not being able to take care of myself, doubting that this was what God wanted for me, my tons of foolish pride, broken ideals/expectations and the queasiness I was getting from the rapid change in plans, lifestyle, and routine because of it.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I began to feel insecure around people who knew what I was going through, feeling overtly ashamed about my situation of not being able to take care of myself, became apologetic to people with stronger personalities -- not being able to withstand "intimidation" as my confidence was pretty much shot due to my dependency. I also knew I was being irrational emotionally, but it's just one of those things that always seem to wrestle for your attention. (Thanks, Brittany and HuiMin for spiritual discussion about insecurities.)</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Realization: I define myself by how much money I have/am getting.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My heart sank as I typed that.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then begins the over-analytical phase. God, I truly need to learn how to take my imagination/thoughts captive!! What utter rubbish the carnal mind spews. I hate that I'm bound by so many mechanisms that trigger or shut down social functions! I read Romans 12 again today. Do not be conformed, but be transformed -- by the renewing of your mind! The battle against self is the most brutal of all. Paul wasn't kidding when he talked about spiritual warfare and putting on the armor of God (Ephesians 6). (Thanks, DJ for the spiritual counsel on the way to Fargo.)</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On top of that, I've been transitioning into adulthood. Sure, I've been an adult by age -- but definitely not in lifestyle. Many of my closest confidantes are gone, moved away or have moved on to a different phase of life. Soon, my college student friends will be caught up with school, and with the new students that will come in (inevitable and expected). Suddenly, the need to build a new guild of like-minded adult friends becomes urgent. Who do I keep accountable to? Or rather, who can I trust to keep accountable to? (Thanks, Rob.) Learning to deal with broken pride and expectations have been the order of the day. I have to remember that this will prove to be invaluable to me in future. I have to keep pushing through this oddness.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because the conclusion -- or rather, the introduction -- to all of this, (brace yourself for the cliche) is not about me, and it's never going to be about me. This life I have is God's project. The ministries I have had the opportunity to serve and participate in, have never added or taken away from His work. I really need to stop kidding myself that I am at all in control of anything. Because I truly am not. (Thanks, Mike.)</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks for bearing with me, dearest of friends. The next time you do get frustrated with me and my awkwardness, please consider my wrestling against my own flesh. The best quote I have heard this week is: "I'm sorry for not being Jesus."</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I say that with all my heart. Thanks for reading.</span></span></span></span>nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-67262947704961107372010-07-03T11:34:00.000-05:002010-07-03T11:34:01.124-05:00Here again. Storm of thoughts.Here I am a month later. And the permit has been delayed again. Setback after setback.<br />
<br />
I have been walking a lot lately. Just to clear my head. Just to refocus. I think God knows I need this lesson in patience. Furrowed brows, nervous heart, quivering lip -- as I try to figure all of this out. And God says to trust Him.<br />
<br />
I really need to quit these voices in my head. How do you silence the enemy? Or will it just continue to rage in you throughout this season of setbacks and doubt? I know in my heart that God will come through for me. He has given me that peace.<br />
<br />
So why do I feel despondent? I want to depend on you, Lord. All these hopes and dreams - is it all vanity? Is this from you? If this is not it, show me, tell me.<br />
<br />
I'm listening. Life is too short, I've lost so much time already. If you say go, I will go.nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-74568724783177726642010-06-04T11:20:00.000-05:002010-06-04T11:20:41.812-05:00Only So Much.There's only so much that I can say, before I begin exploding (if not imploding) about how crazy and amazing you are to me. These past few weeks have been literally torturous for my impatience - but a challenge for my morale, spirit and esteem. Just trying to figure out if you want me here in beautiful Bemidji, or to pack up and ship out. This is forcing me to really grow dependent on you and your counterparts here on earth. <div><br />
</div><div>I'm listening for you. Speak to me. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I refuse to raise my hopes for this job, but there is hope nonetheless. I'm praying that this thing gets through but is this what you want? I doubt you're pressed to help me figure out something so trivial -- but I'm asking you anyway. There's just been way too much leeway and I've slipped between the cracks one too many times. I need you to go ahead of me this time. I will not go if you don't. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I feel frustrated.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Maybe because I've been here before. You'd think that one could graduate from these things. *laughs* I recognize this time of doubt. I recognize these thoughts. These questions. These distractions.</div><div><br />
</div><div>And then I recognize your love. Your provision. Your patience. I recognize your peace.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Yet I speak like an insolent little child. Demanding the rights of a prodigal -- which is what, really? And for what purpose? So I can squander it on the shallows of life? My God, my God, why have I forsaken you again? Am I so fickle a creature that I am so prone to abandoning my creator? </div><div><br />
</div><div>You hold all things together -- even the very fibers that make up my being. You know the plans you have for me. In that, I will be content. In that, I will rejoice in my uncertainty. I will remember your gift of hope for my mortality. I will remember the gift of eternity for humanity.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I will remember You.</div><div><br />
</div><div>What can I say without imploding (or exploding) about how lovely, and how all-knowing you are? Only so much.</div>nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-2878100867958318002010-05-16T00:42:00.001-05:002010-05-16T00:43:49.220-05:00On days when nothing is right.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d9ead3;">My present state of consciousness is a little fox being chased down by a pack of violent memory-hounds, fiercely barking up the time-tree from which I've sought my interim refuge. They are loud. Overwhelmed by the chaos in my head, I fall off and into an ocean of tears below. A deep blue that spews waves, haunting with thunderous voices so loud you don't know it's there. They are eventually ceased, crashing on the shore of this reality I have become grossly accustomed to. Must there be so much of you, Ignorance? Is there nothing more beautiful than you, that I should choose you above another?</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d9ead3;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d9ead3;">How real is my mortality. How real is eternity. How real is my Lord.</span></span>nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-13714109510138007052010-02-23T23:24:00.001-06:002010-02-23T23:25:27.587-06:00Hello Favorite<div style="text-align: center;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Kbpc6KFOxu0&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Kbpc6KFOxu0&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">A tribute to the strongest family of faith I know. The Ludwinskis. Love you guys!<br />
<br />
In honor and loving memory of my dearest and closest friend and brother, Erik Ludwinski, who wholly glorified his God with his body, in his faith, and through his character. He had battled Neuroblastoma three times in his life. With Jesus by his side, he made his final triumph and returned home to be with the Lord, February 9, 2010.<br />
<br />
"This evening (Feb 9th) at 9:35 pm Erik went to be with the Lord. And we are so happy to know now that he is not in any pain, and he is walking, and breathing the sweet air of heaven. ~Lesa”</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Erik Paul Ludwinski</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>February 9, 2010 - ∞</i></div><br />
This video is his story in his own art, music, photographs and words.<br />
<br />
For Erik's remarkable full story: <a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/erikludwinski">http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/erikludwinski</a><br />
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<div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">History of the Nickname "Favorite":</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My facebook is overcrowded and there were more than one Erik/Eric to scroll through in my friend list. Erik loved to prank me whenever i left my laptop by him and my facebook account was open. He would always change my profile status to the most ridiculous of things. (He has also done this to many of his other close friends too. i.e. Tab Sze). So when he found out that he wasn't the only Erik on my list, he playfully pouted and asked, "Heeyyy, exactly how many Eriks do you know?" To which i replied, "Now, now. Stop sulking. You are definitely my favoritest of Eriks." Started calling him that, and soon after shortened it to "Favorite".<br />
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Miss you, favorite.<br />
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- Phoebe</div>nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-13443889589572365292010-01-22T12:44:00.001-06:002010-01-22T12:44:51.065-06:00Marrow.Org<embed align="middle" allowfullscreen="false" bgcolor="#ffffff" height="200" name="ijoined" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" quality="high" src="http://www.marrow.org/images/external/ijoined.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="200" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />
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Hey, this is Phoebe. Share your spit and consider becoming a marrow donor, yes?nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-82604615733401441362009-11-06T11:01:00.001-06:002009-11-06T11:01:44.823-06:00What He did Today.He renewed my hope.<br />
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That he is all-knowing and shows himself strong.<br />
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That circumstances are reversible.<br />
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That we are not defeated.<br />
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That Phanuel can be free.<br />
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Thank you, God.<br />
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<object height="225" width="400"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=3443801&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=3443801&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="225"></embed></object><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/3443801">"AUTISM YESTERDAY" Autism is Reversible</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user1378511">JB Handley</a>.nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-51425553200359697152009-10-23T13:56:00.005-05:002010-02-01T15:22:30.866-06:00Today.<span style="font-size: small;"> I've started writing new songs again. Here's a basic idea of my new composition.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>It is.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">and it is amazing</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">and it is impatient</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">and it is swelling</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">in its berated excitement </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">in my chest, no rest, no rest</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">and then its here</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">but you never wanted it to come</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
and you keep wondering where time goes so suddenly </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">as quickly as it is now, it soon was, then that was then.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Did that just really happen?<br />
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More to come. </span>nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-66142828846391322062009-09-28T15:09:00.008-05:002009-09-28T15:17:23.534-05:00Bluetree - God of this CityThe true story.<br />
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<center><script src="http://widgets.clearspring.com/o/49bff51de1b2c2c2/4ac117eebb59bb1d/49c9241bd8b7db78/d2d4ffc8/widget.js" type="text/javascript">
</script></center><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(http://www.givmusic.com/bluetree/)</span><br />
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Cool graphics for fellow nerds.<br />
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<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VmC44K0xQLE&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VmC44K0xQLE&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmC44K0xQLE)</span><br />
</div>nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-66459489656230673752009-09-21T18:10:00.002-05:002009-09-21T18:10:55.767-05:00Fall 2009<div style="text-align: center;">Hurrah. It's Autumn again!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVR8FfCecUarWy49TamuNGLjcnKDe_ZmBnXRxGWXi1rF3XnGZCXNqzHK4XIdd4KqqpieNswoLkc-0O6YsDv579jlYDlQZvTjahNJzrSBuYrMhXbA0wg4sNehB7DTQXjXOlZFRj/s1600-h/Fall+2009+-+Phoebe%27s+Life+Schedule.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" iq="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVR8FfCecUarWy49TamuNGLjcnKDe_ZmBnXRxGWXi1rF3XnGZCXNqzHK4XIdd4KqqpieNswoLkc-0O6YsDv579jlYDlQZvTjahNJzrSBuYrMhXbA0wg4sNehB7DTQXjXOlZFRj/s320/Fall+2009+-+Phoebe%27s+Life+Schedule.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">If I ever live to see it.<br />
</div>nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-45279339602098134812009-09-02T16:57:00.005-05:002009-09-02T17:47:54.698-05:00Bon appetit!So we had a potluck at my office (International Program Center) on campus last Friday. And everyone was expected to cook something and bring it to share.<br /><br />I, of course, defaulted to a Malaysian meal and did Tom Yam Fried Rice. (And it was amazing, might i just say. Dusts collar.)<br /><br />We also opened the potluck up for any person who stepped into the office space. So a Malaysian undergraduate student, Pravin Namby, and an Indian graduate student Sudhir ate my fried rice and had awesome things to say about it. (I wasn't kidding when I said it turned out pretty awesome.) But nothing prepared me for what happened next.<br /><br />About the same time Namby and Sudhir was in sampling food, in came an African student named, Ben Doso. After eating the tom yam fried rice, he asked if he could google something for me. I offered him my deskspace and watched intently over his shoulder as he typed,<br /><br />"riz au gras."<br /><br />... I kept watching as he navigated his cursor to the top of the Google Search Page he was on and clicked on "Images". "There, look," Ben said, pointing to the picture on the screen.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://everythingspossible.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/thieb-riz-au-grass-rouge-au-poisson-gurmands.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 239px;" src="http://everythingspossible.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/thieb-riz-au-grass-rouge-au-poisson-gurmands.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>"That's Riz Au Gras," he said, smiling. "Doesn't it look similar to what you cooked?"<br /><br />Wow, I thought. It really did. So i nodded and asked, "Does it taste anything like it though?"<br /><br />"Yes, more or less," came the answer.<br /><br />"So, what you ate just now was more or less french?"<br /><br />Ben Doso nods, amused.<br /><br />Meanwhile, within the skull of the Phoebe-Brain, my logic began to kick into gear.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Syllogisms</span><br />Premise 1: Tom Yam Fried Rice tastes like a french dish (Riz au Gras).<br />Premise 2: I can cook Tom Yam Fried Rice.<br />Conclusion: I can cook a French DISH!!!!<br /><br />The realization seeped in slow. But it came, just the same. I had thought, the day I mastered the ways of the <a href="http://pockettissues.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-like-pie-take-two.html">Shepherd's Pie</a>, that that was probably as far as it got for me when it came to trying out international recipes.<br /><br />But why work so hard, when homeland cooking resembles that of french cuisine? w00t!<br /><br />By the by, Riz Au Gras is pronounced:<br />Riz = <span style="font-style: italic;">Rr</span>hee<br />Au = Oh<br />Gras = G<span style="font-style: italic;">rr</span>aa<br /><br />(the "r" sounds like a gurgle at the back of your throat)<br /><br />I <span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">can cook</span></span> Riz Au Gras. A <span style="font-style: italic;">FRENCH</span> Meal. Hoho!<br />As Phua Chu Kang says (Character, Singaporean Sitcom), "Don't play-play ah...."<br /><br />What have you learnt to cook recently? ;)nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-89747318207081554502009-08-11T07:38:00.005-05:002009-08-11T12:45:07.752-05:00Thinking of you, dear friend.<embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://www.flavia.com/images/movicardsSWF/FHPL1005.swf" quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" loop="false" width="413" height="221"></embed><br /><br />Sincerely, <br />Phoebe Dufus.nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-63070825999725227352009-08-03T11:55:00.010-05:002009-08-03T12:51:54.490-05:00All Together Now: Roooad Trrrip!My friends and I have just returned from a ten day roadtrip to Yellowstone and back. We went through the North Dakotan Badlands, and hopped-skipped-and-jumped over to Yellowstone; and dove into the Tetons, and escaped via the South Dakotan Badlands. Back to home sweet home - in Bemidji, that is. (All that talk of heading home in the car, raised emotions about my home country, Malaysia. And I was quiet for awhile to think on that too.) ANYWAY,<br /><br />It was superbly amazing! None of the pictures have been uploaded yet. Soon you'll see me being tagged on 'em on Facebook. I have no camera of my own, I used to loan my school's Cannon-pro cameras for personal projects or assignments. However, now that school is still out and summer is on (though almost over), I have <a href="http://usemath.multiply.com/">no picture capturing device.</a> Of my own, that is.<br /><br />One of the highlights of the trip is and will always be our conversations. We had two bible studies between, talking about the same chapter I Corinthians 13.<br /><br />That's right, LOVE.<br /><br />We participated in Bible Study at Rob's a couple of weeks ago, about the same chapter and decided to do our own on the same one. There were so many things that we felt we still needed to understand. And today, I doubt I have fully grasped the full meaning of God's love.<br /><br />I remember asking God in yesteryears to "teach me to love the way you love". I REALLY, TRULY did not know what I was asking for. And till today, God is still teaching me to love people: the types of people I don't necessarily jive with, that don't necessarily share my wavelength - and still; there is much to learn.<br /><br />Question to self: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/phoebemathius?ref=profile#/note.php?note_id=47244097980">Why is it so hard?</a><br /><br />One of my dear friends had many questions too. Not the regular questions; some really provocative ones that made me think a lot about how i was conveying love (not any love, God's love) to the people around me. Even if it boils down to simple chores like dish-washing. How do I show love? Why can't there be expectations? Should we expect people to do something? Or should we do it out of love without resent? How can we not resent? Do we strive to be God-like in that way? Or are we allowing people spelunk on the very nook and crevices of our soft head? Another dear friend of mine shared about her fears and how she's dealing with them. Another shared about struggles.<br /><br />It was amazing to hear all of us share our true stories, how it affects us. And I joke not, the stories shared are not for the faint of heart. Many tied to death.<br /><br />And you wonder. And I wonder.<br /><br />Will God be pleased with the final outcome of our race? Read I Corinthians 13 again with us too.<br /><br />Oh, and..<br /><br />I <span style="font-style: italic;">love</span> you.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">p/s</span> I got invited for dinner tonight! Yay for progress!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">p/p/s</span> I leave you with a soundtrack for the day:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gone</span><br />Like yesterday is<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gone </span><br />Like history is<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gone </span><br />The world keeps spinning on<br />You're going, going<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gone</span><br />Like Summer Break is<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gone</span><br />Like Saturday is<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gone</span><br />Just tryin' to prove me wrong<br />You pretend like you're immortal<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">-Switchfoot, for the win.<br />(Got to touch Jon Foreman again at Sonshine, by the way. *Laughs the hysterics down*)<br /></span></span>nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-26639048844063087682009-07-24T10:32:00.006-05:002015-06-25T09:15:07.463-05:00Of death and other edible things.So I'm back again.<br />
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Once again, I have no good excuse to offer you, no mind-boggling tale of which to enchant young minds into believing in a world of the unknown - a good yarn spun to document why I haven't written in awhile. No.<br />
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In the most diluted sense, I have been busy. And to you, my dear friend Joash, I offer my heartfelt apologies.<br />
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And without further monkeying around:<br />
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I've been learning to value life differently since I've been here. I am with close friends who've either experienced near death, seen death, dreamed death, watched death take away someone they love -- but death all the same. It's a hard thing to grasp, death. But it's even more fantastic a thought to know that death is life to us. The very foundation of faith. The stitches that hold the seams.<br />
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To be rid of the normal expectations; No, this is not a paper about death. These are just disgruntled thoughts, that I will gradually (hopefully!) piece together at the end - forming the distorted image of what I've been thinking about recently.<br />
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Death has always seemed more melancholy than what it is -- mainly because of the pain of separation. We experience an ounce (maybe less) of it when we say goodbye to someone we dearly love[d]. Whether of a relationship, family, or close friend. The very act of leaving -- the possibility of not seeing the other for a long time, (or perhaps even ever) cuts a little (if not a lot). Leaves us broken. Hopeless.<br />
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In the world we live in, it is commonly seen in age, mistakes, accidents, war, disease, murder and the like. The Circle of Life. But i wonder what it looks like from God's point of view. A teleportation device? II Corinthians 5:8 ("To be absent in the body is to be present with the Lord.") I wonder if our world could not be likened to a virtual world: Like a scene out of the manga, "Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles". (Get over yourself, look it up.) Where you fall out of the world when you're dead - and things finally make sense. C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle, really.<br />
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But then we wonder, why the hassle of creating virtual reality, right? Why can't we just be? If there is a God, why is he putting us through what seems to be a test site? Rumor has it (valid source), we did this to ourselves. Death itself is caused by a darkness that we seem to play a lot in. Sin. (Romans 6:23) (oh, don't roll your eyes. death never was for the "logical"; neither is it for the faint-hearted.)<br />
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If this is temporary, why do we try so hard?<br />
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Hebrews 9:27 says, There is judgement after death. So, there is a God who is just. There is payment for injustice. There is payment for wrongdoing. This is why we are in consistent despair, emptiness and loneliness. Despair. We understand what despair is, because we have experienced it's antithesis. (I.e. I understand what darkness is, because I have seen light.) Therefore, if there is despair -<br />
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There is hope.<br />
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There is more to life than death - and I have nothing to fear in death. In fact, it's been conquered. It's a battle I no longer have to fight against/for. My more current quest, is to strive for purity. Never fully achievable -- but to be sought after with Christ.<br />
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But again, this query remains: why do I have to try so hard? For me, it is a simple answer, but a difficult task to accomplish.<br />
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I am not my own. The salary that is deposited into my account, the time I squander, the words I speak. It's all a deposit.<br />
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My life belongs to someone else, subject to the bidding of one greater than I. Kind of like chess...somewhat. Slavery? No. I still have freedom to go my way and ruin this game, if I haven't already. But I am doing it for the sake of finishing this final battle we call life. Even though it's already won. For the glory of the Chess Master.<br />
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Think final episode of "Band of Brothers". The company still experienced death and hardships, though the war was already over. While waiting to be reassigned or return home - many died in the most ridiculous of ways.<br />
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I used to think I was great at damage control. But I am nothing compared to THE ultimate damage control extraordinaire. The author and finisher of our faiths. So I'm sticking to him who knows what this mess of thoughts mean; I'm sticking to him who knows my end.<br />
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So even if my life is truly shorter than what most intend, I will still say - Since all of this is for the glory of our Chess Master,<br />
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It is well, with my soul.nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-74473117650131874722009-07-21T12:08:00.002-05:002009-07-21T12:15:21.654-05:00So, question.... (or Blonde Moments)So...<br /><br />I came to America, right? And landed myself some good friends. Two of them eventually hooked up. All of us still hangout, thanks to the fact that we all know each other. NO changes there. But i have two other friends who are still single, beside me. I know both of them are looking, but for the right one. I see that. But sometimes, i feel so selfish. I get so afraid that things will start changing among us as a group. I didn't realize that i was being very selfish by hanging out with them too much. Rob Mahto was giving a bible study about LOVE yesterday and Jesus is the ultimate example of a life that overflows with love. And here am i, a little afraid about some changes that are BOUND to happen eventually anyway. I can't stop life from happening. HOWEVER, I can stop my life from being self-seeking.<br /><br />So...<br /><br />Change Happens, right? Let it be! Change is growth. and Growth is good. Good friends are for always, and have no conditions, no excuses. We say this is a cliche, something we hear everyday. But are we truly listening? It will be a growing experience for all of us. I think I need to start opening up the circle, and invite MORE good Christian men and women into it. and Maybe,just maybe my close friends could find their soul mates through positive, and healthy interaction. One of my close friends told me that I am an initiator. I start things up, and they help me execute them. And they were talking about me setting up events for them to get to know more people. I struggled with this because i'm not exactly liking the idea of having to host 20 people all at once, all the time! I like the quiet 5. But now that i know they actually depend on me to organize things like these...what exactly am i doing with that? On the one hand, I felt a little sulky. Why on earth do I have to initiate this? on the other hand, Why am i NOT initiating activities and meetings that matter?! I feel like i visit with them and talk with them, whenever i NEED them (a shoulder to cry on, an ear to vent, a place to chill). What about what they need? What about what God wants from us? From me? To sort out my frustrations, What I need is a game plan.<br /><br />So...<br /><br />I'm thinking healthy interaction, right? And here are some ideas. To always remain as a group is a great idea. But what can we do as a group? I want to make sure there is opportunity for conversations. 1) Bible studies: It's always, ALWAYS a great idea to learn more about God, to grow together in our faith and to live out Daily Christ-like lives - lives that please God. 2) Coffee & Tea Sessions at Cantabria (Bemidji's Starbucks): That has always encouraged great get-to-know-you conversations. 3) Camping// Weekend trips: Short weekend campouts to learn cooperation and team work. 4) Volunteering: Maybe we should all sign up to volunteer to do something at an old folk's home, children's hospital, homeless program, soup kitchen, etc. This can encourage us to serve others, or at least constantly think about what we can do for someone else. 5) Picnics//Grill outs: Food and friends are always a great combo for convo. *chuckles* today's phrase that pays, that one. 6) ...<br /><br />So...<br /><br />I can't think of a sixth idea now, right? But it'll be okay. I feel like i am pretty set for at least the next couple of months. I've never had to worry about the relationships of my friends before. But since this is what has been brought up to me, and although i am as clueless as fogged up glass after a hot shower, I will take on this challenge. What they do with the opportunities created will be up to them entirely. Hero, we want to live out lives you can be proud of. Help us to live worthy of your calling and glory. Keep us dreaming up your vision, so that we won't walk aimless, egocentrical or dead.<br /><br />Teach us to live.nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-44234226745249178662009-04-28T14:41:00.001-05:002009-04-28T14:48:51.674-05:00Final Photography Project<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMow0oYbXo533nzcDPF0HVXy0OMgs805_sw-hCneseOTvRXP6RFXeoLDGRAIIEo7rbRG5t5sRx7jRsMhGWmC9CQqthgPSkY1xKgoOBJrg8bA2GRSfWm1qUzULx132WPWXXwBkC/s1600-h/Final+Photographoe+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMow0oYbXo533nzcDPF0HVXy0OMgs805_sw-hCneseOTvRXP6RFXeoLDGRAIIEo7rbRG5t5sRx7jRsMhGWmC9CQqthgPSkY1xKgoOBJrg8bA2GRSfWm1qUzULx132WPWXXwBkC/s400/Final+Photographoe+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329831336920584834" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">My Photo Essay!</span><br /><br />Final Project for Photography 2009.<br /></div>nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-67474228386989907662009-04-15T01:07:00.001-05:002009-04-15T01:09:06.773-05:00To you.There's a whole lot to me than what i tend to let surface. One cannot truly engage in conversations of desires and identity out of hues of blue. One waits for the right time. And that time did not come. Perhaps it never will.<br /><br />There's not much you or I need to know about who i was, who i am or who i want to be - because i am not defined by all that -- not even by my name. not anymore.<br /><br />My name does have some form of bearing to my life and legacy here on earth. But what is in a name? Countless times i've failed it's meaning. Countless times i've acted adversely out of spite, immaturity and folly. What is my name? Do I really want it to matter to you? You, who've walked with me through all shapes of my sorrow and grief. and you, who've shared my laughter in times of childishness. Or you, who've sat with me under the tree of imagination and dreamed of higher heights no human have yet tread.<br /><br />My identity now lies in someone more wonderful than I. He gave so much to be with me. So i choose him. And he will always take precedence in my life.<br /><br />So no, i'm not interested in any other person, any external relationship, any developing bond that may threaten to sever this budding tie and usher me into distraction, into the comatose.<br /><br />I cannot yet engage myself in another. Not till i'm ready. Not yet, not now. For i have awakened from twilight's tight grasp and have now seen the sun at the end of that tunnel. I will not turn back. You can't make me.<br /><br />True, i may meet someone on my way out of that tunnel. But it is not Now. And you are Now. Therefore, things cannot be.<br /><br />There's just very little time. Too little, in fact. It's too early for me to be wandering about sorting issues of companionship.You'll find someone who is and will be ready for you.<br /><br />But i am not. I come through those doors later. You finish before me.We are still running our races simultaneously. But Parallel and not Together. You will always be a cherished brother.<br /><br />Fret not. Our hearts are made up of more than just cells and tissues, and it pumps and works with more than just blood or its platelets.<br /><br />I can only hope you understand, dear old friend. I can only hope.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br />Phoebe Lee Mathius<br />p/s Phoebe : radiancenothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-38569617297932957772009-04-02T16:03:00.003-05:002009-04-02T16:14:53.713-05:00The Alien AutisticThis is my latest assignment guys!<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Iz5POHGmuo0&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Iz5POHGmuo0&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oEp_vjBpfgM&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oEp_vjBpfgM&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />I am not happy with the text graphics during the poetry slam, but i totally lost hours of work when the software crashed on me. I was running out of time, so i decided to just do a mess of sample fonts/styles.<br /><br />My professor just told me to keep working on it so that i can submit it for Fall's fargo's film fest. But he needs to check on competition rules and formats before we move ahead with this extracurricular project!<br /><br />P/s i won another small scholarship. The first was from a Roy Blackwood. and now, i won something from Sullivan. I hope to hear from Milowski soon. Thanks Hero, for helping me find favor with the people behind the considerations.nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-40338646356713224732009-02-28T11:57:00.002-06:002009-02-28T12:03:42.385-06:00Light of Day - The Music Video<span>This is a Music video i made (filmed, edited) for a track/song i composed at a time when i had a lot of questions.<br /><br />So yeah....<br />this is:<br />"Light of Day"<br />Music and Lyrics by Phoebe Lee Mathius<br /><br />This turned into my assignment, and I presented it to class several days ago. Here it is... in it's full song-likeness and etcetera.<br /><br />*chuckles* enjoy. and gimme feedback!<br /><br />p/s it didn't really turn out the way i originally intended for it to look. but oh well, i finished it anyway, (a day before it was due) so i won't complain. haha.<br /><br />CREDITS<br />Jon M. Chiaravalle<br />Sarah McKee<br />Samantha Sorenson<br />Katie Nelson<br />Tony Barber<br />Tim Roberts<br /><br />Thanks for your time investments, ideas and flexibility. You were all great to work with!<br /><br />and All gratitude is due to my hero. I love you.<br /></span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zzT3275EET4&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zzT3275EET4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bO7CNu1qdb8&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bO7CNu1qdb8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-86784572382889101952009-02-21T12:38:00.003-06:002009-02-21T12:54:37.133-06:00Of Chris Tomlin, Israel Houghton and New Breed.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.268media.com/eblasts/helloLove/datessellingout/images/3rd-leg-eblast_02.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 600px; height: 296px;" src="http://www.268media.com/eblasts/helloLove/datessellingout/images/3rd-leg-eblast_02.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Their concert is coming up in March! 29th to be exact! It will be held in the Xcel Energy Center, in St. Paul, Minnesota - a four hour drive away from Bemidji. Not unlike the journey between Taiping and Kuala Lumpur.<br /><br />And guess What? I'm going! *does a jig*<br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Wanna go too? Click <a href="http://www.ticketmaster.com/event/06004171BDA787D8?artistid=982298&majorcatid=10001&minorcatid=50">here</a>!</span><br /><br />Deep gratitude to Edrian for informing me of the concert. I know he has been the biggest fan of Israel and New breed. And i will definitely take you in spirit, bro!<br /><br />4 other good friends of mine are heading over there with me! and it is going to be SWEET!<br /><br />ROAD TRIP!!!<br /><br />Thanks, hero. For granting me the tiny desires of my heart. You are so real to me even in my brokenness. You're real to me in my joy. Thanks for being around. *shuffles feet bashfully* I love you.nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-21533568434122037922009-02-20T09:21:00.001-06:002009-02-21T12:32:07.124-06:00I cried.I'd just gotten off from a sob fest.<br />('twas only for a few seconds, but still.... i never knew i was capable of being such an emotional <span style="font-style: italic;">girl</span>.)<br /><br />I never knew i would have it in me to just burst into tears, gab-smack in the middle of a song - with no warning too.<br /><br />well, there was SOME warning. it was this swelling swirl in my chest that grew and grew and ...I never could tell what it was. When it finally peaked, out came niagra falls!<br /><br />(I laugh sheepishly at myself as i type this. and some of you may even be having a field day with this.)<br /><br />but what you need to know is that there are several causes to this [phoe]nomenon, of course.<br /><br />one must first look at the song that i was listening to.<br /><br />The song had caused me to feel this burdened sense of nostalgia... i remembered listening to it during a certain tough period of waiting and direction in my life. And it's a wonder how far I've come. How God led me through, step by step, phase by phase...word for word.<br /><br />As i listened, what i experienced for the most part, was the feeling of relief that that time has already past. And that there was nothing to fear. But on the other hand, I've also been feeling burdened for the future. What specifically, i do not know...yet. A spiritual battle, really. But my hero, i know, will be there to save the day! No matter how battered or wounded we are from the battle, I know i will see him riding towards the bloodied field with the strongest army you will ever live to see!<br /><br />Yes, I see a storm cloud looming up ahead. And i cannot help but feel my heart sinking; remembering the last time i've had to go through this. But the sunlight is still reflecting its intensity on my sword, the battle is still raging. We WILL grow from this. Whatever it is. Whatever that is coming.<br /><br />My hero, lover and friend has made me ready. I await with bated breath.nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-60361180857214961352009-02-18T21:36:00.002-06:002009-02-18T21:40:55.833-06:00Light of DayI guess, I wrote a new song. =)<br /><br />"Light of Day"<br />(by Phoebe Lee Mathius)<br /><br />She conjured up a world<br />Where she could hide<br />With arching trees stretched over lakes<br />Watched by purple skies<br /><br />Poor innocent girl<br />How will your story unfurl<br />Poor innocent girl<br />How they shatter your world...<br /><br />Chorus:<br />In the midst of fools<br />there's a trickle of reason<br />for every season<br />in the eyes of one<br />So beautiful<br />But we claim not to see<br />Nod our heads to agree<br />while a dream never sees the light of day<br /><br />Tag:<br />Poor innocent girl, we say.<br /><br />I conjured up a world<br />One so ideal<br />Where there's no hatred<br />and there's nothing to conceal<br /><br />But it's all in my head<br />It's all in my...(chorus)<br /><br />Tag 2:<br />It's all in our heads, we say<br /><br />Bridge:<br />After everything we've lived through<br />You'd think we would understand.<br />After every wrong suffered<br />You'd think we would have a plan...<br /><br />But we choose not to see<br />We're content, we're carefree<br />While a dream never sees the light of day.<br />But we choose not to see<br />Nod our heads to agree<br />While our dreams never see the light of day.<br /><br />End:<br />It's all in our heads, we say.<br /><br />No more dreams today<br /><br />Where is the light of day?<br /><br />~~~~~<br /><br />I have just completed filming for this demo's music video. this is wonderful news for me as it started out pretty behind schedule. hopefully, after the editing is done, it'd turn out better than i can even hope for. Hope with me.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"If God be for us, who can be against us?</span>"nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-28797410796292157202009-02-13T10:24:00.004-06:002009-02-13T10:31:27.041-06:00Oh, Phanuel!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh1f-5Pz2Lr6QGQ_cm3BPkCWCSo7NIgXDlM6O6KqmxcfMZtgGp29oy2aagnRqgTODoS7fZDC0c82FBrlxuC7NNVehXbWpKF38Nx2nsH8kQ9vJOJe_Pzpz5Y_PtQCLRMJ53KVGi/s1600-h/DSC00158.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh1f-5Pz2Lr6QGQ_cm3BPkCWCSo7NIgXDlM6O6KqmxcfMZtgGp29oy2aagnRqgTODoS7fZDC0c82FBrlxuC7NNVehXbWpKF38Nx2nsH8kQ9vJOJe_Pzpz5Y_PtQCLRMJ53KVGi/s400/DSC00158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302320186085773186" border="0" /></a><br />My little autistic brother, whom i love so ever, ever MUCH, has found a new craze!<br /><br />Check it out! It's adorable!<br /><br /><object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RVWWw5twmEA&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RVWWw5twmEA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object><br /><br />Remember how he loves dinosaurs and animated cartoons? Well, this is perfect for him! Although my younger sister, Parmena, thinks it's annoying. I can see how it can be for us "grown-ups". Or rather, should we call ourselves "growING-ups"?<br /><br />Can we ever fully achieve maturity? I say, no.<br /><br />Love you, Phanuel. You'll be one of the greats someday, leaving behind an amazing legacy for the world to exemplify!nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35691319.post-37495935955344338292009-02-13T09:47:00.000-06:002009-02-13T09:48:33.752-06:00Got a Date For Val's?I do.<br /><br />*smiles*nothing of interest herehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15760914275310350147noreply@blogger.com0