Muses, and confessions.

HELLO BLOGOSPHERE.

This is pax domini for realsies, I just transferred to an account that uses the gmail that I use at my university for the general ease of everything. amator deus is Latin for lover of God, which is what I am :D


So I'm going to share something with you guys. I have a few problems.
One is an anxiety problem. I have what I describe as an "inappropriate panic reaction" to situations; that is, where normal people would feel, say, butterflies in their tummy, I begin to freak out. Occasionally I'll lapse into a panic attack. For me, panic attacks consist of A) wanting to run in the other direction OR curl up in a ball; B) feeling like my heart is trying to crawl out of my throat; C) heart pounding so hard it feels like it's about to burst out of my chest; D) the "lump in the throat" sensation without the tear pricks; and of course, E) general PANIC. Sometimes I just have a panic attack because my brain decides it wants too.

I love when that happens.
(I don't actually love when that happens).

Another problem is that I have a little thing called dysthymia. It's usually described as "mild depression", but that's an insult to everyone person who suffers from that.
Here's a couple of definitions, courtesy of MedicineNet.com

Major depression: A disease with certain characteristic signs and symptoms that interferes with the ability to work, sleep, eat, and enjoy once pleasurable activities.The characteristic signs and symptoms of major depression include loss of interest in activities that were once interesting or enjoyable (...); a persistently sad, anxious or empty mood; feelings of hopelessness, pessimism, guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness; social withdrawal; unusual fatigue, low energy level, a feeling of being slowed down; sleep disturbance with insomnia, early-morning awakening, or oversleeping; trouble concentrating, remembering, or making decisions; unusual restlessness or irritability; persistent physical problems such as headaches, digestive disorders, or chronic pain that do not respond to treatment; thoughts of death or suicide or suicide attempts. Disabling episodes of major depression can occur once or a number of times in a lifetime.

Depression, dysthymia: A type of depression involving long-term, chronic symptoms that are not disabling, but keep a person from functioning at "full steam" or from feeling good. Dysthymia is a less severe type of depression than what is accorded the diagnosis of major depression. However, people with dysthymia may also sometimes experience major depressive episodes, suggesting that there is a continuum between dysthymia and major depression.

So.
--- Major depression means that you occasionally have spells where you are broken. As a psych major, I know that the diagnosis for this disorder requires a minimum of 2 weeks with the symptoms.
--- Dysthymia means that you always feel broken. Not quite as broken as you feel during a major depressive spell, sure, but the thing is, you have those too. Oh, and the minimum required time with the symptoms? 3 years.

Sure, sure, dysthymia is "mild depression". But call me crazy, 'cause I would way rather have the first disorder than the second.

I've suffered greatly since I was about twelve, because I knew that I didn't feel quite right, but I was also told by my doctor and my family that I wasn't depressed. Which I wasn't. I was just....flat. But I decided recently to screw them all, and I went to a doctor at my school and requested an antidepressant.

Do you know how wrong it is that the feeling of happiness for no reason excites me? I haven't felt this way since I was a kid. I laugh again, and I smile just because I can, and I enjoy going out and having fun. For the first time in a long time I'm dating and I'm enjoying it. I don't feel broken anymore.
I needed medication. Those lines I was being handed, that there were people worse than me out there, that I wasn't truly depressed, they were full of garbage.
I giggle now. I haven't giggled since I was six.
And now when I'm lying on my couch and I feel the familiar dark shadows begin to settle over my shoulders, I don't curl up and shiver and begin shaking and crying. I just take a deep breath, and I can walk it off. That's pretty amazing, too.


I bear what I now describe as my battle scars. I'm inordinately proud of them, because I over came them, and they're all fading. They're proof of what I went through, of my desperate solution to my sleep-killing panic attacks.

Can you see them? They're fading, but they're there.

These were my proof. When I went back to my family doctor, knowing he would not be impressed that I'm on medication for a problem he thinks doesn't need to be medicated, I rolled up my sleeves and pointed to the lines etched into my skin. I told him I was tired of wishing I was dead, tired of craving the feeling of pain.
I needed help, and I got it.


I feel so happy. I keep finding myself wondering what happened that could put me in such a good mood, then I remember that I can actually just be in one without having any particular reason. Life puts me in a good mood. It never used to.


An important aspect of this post is God.
I know I haven't mentioned Him at all, but let's face it: I panic when a guy compliments me. How on Earth was I ever able to confess to my best friend that I think I needed help? Where did I find the courage to book an appointment at the Health and Counselling Centre, and confess everything to a therapist, and find a doctor and explain what I knew I needed? I didn't have that in me; the thought even now of going to do that makes me feel nauseated.
The answer, of course, is that I had help from a certain Man Upstairs.

I love you, Lord. Thank You for showing me that You love me, too.

I'd like to end this post in a little prayer.

I pray for all of you, and all of your friends and family and loved ones. I pray that you find your inner strength, and you allow yourself to admit that sometimes you need help, especially from God. I pray you are able to do what you need to, whatever that may be.

I love you all.

XO,
amicum et sororem tuum
Your friend and sister,

amator deus
SK

Tidbits: Comfort renewed, and links to boot

Do you remember this post? That's the one about the time God gave me a hug via rainfall...

Well, if you liked it then YOU'RE IN LUCK! Because for my Writer's Craft class, we were told to write about an intimate experience with Mother Nature, and that is the experience I wrote about. It's a smidgeon longer, but I think it's rather better. I was pleased with how it turned out...
So yeah. Here's a link: BAM! (If you go to the link, then you can scope my other stuff, too...nudgenudgewinkwink). And here it is, text-style:

My mom and I seem to be incapable of arguing with one another. This is not to say that we never argue, but rather that one or both of us will end up crying about it soon after. So when I say that after a particularly loud argument I stormed into my room, slammed the door, collapsed on my bed and began to sob, you will know that it was not an unusual end of a fight for me.
On this particular day, though, the argument seemed to be only the thing that tipped me over the edge. There were other things that were behind the tears—stress, homework, frustration, and hormonal unbalance from it being that time of the month again—and all of these causes together are what made a few minutes of angry tears turn into a half hour of gut-wrenching sobbing.
It felt like I had been holding tears inside of me and now that they had an exit, they were tearing out as quickly and as aggressively as they could. It frightened me, this savage way in which I was crying, and that made me sob even harder.
I curled up into a little ball on my bed, forehead pressed the cool, green surface of my wall, and choked down my heaves. You see, pride is an ugly thing. I had just argued with my mom, so even though I was no longer mad at her I didn't want her to comfort me, and she have would if she heard me cry.
But yet...I did. I did want my mom to come running to my side, to have her pull me into her arms, smooth my hair and tell me that it was alright, that she still loves me. What is it about a mother's embrace that is so inordinately warm and comforting? I craved that assurance, my friends, but my pride did not. My pride wanted nothing to do with her, and so I was alone in my misery.
I felt terrified of the silence that surrounded me outside of my cries, and even more terrified of the murmur of sounds outside my door. I'm not sure what was making me so scared, but my fear felt very real, regardless of how unreasonable it was.
Even the weather outside had lent itself to my mood, for as the day wore on the sky had clouded, then gone from fluffy and white to black, dark, and so typically brooding. Likewise, I had gone from cheerful to irritable and, as I said before, so typically brooding. I have no doubts that my mood had played a large part in the start of my argument, but that knowledge would not have been useful to me then.
I needed someone there with me so I silently called out to my Lord, but I was met by a stony silence. With that, I knew that I had been abandoned by everything I needed, everyone I needed. Another sob flew from my mouth and my stomach tightened. Was I really capable of creating such a guttural sound? I shivered. Now I was terrified of myself, too.
My fists clenched in tight little balls, I tried to curb my crying. I had indulged in this weakness for too long, and it needed to stop. Now. But try as I might, I couldn't make it stop. I didn't even know what I was crying about anymore, certainly not that argument. My grief was rooted deep, so I gave in and stopped fighting against it.
Through the hiccupping sound that echoed in my ears, I heard something. It was faint and barely perceptible, and I had just chosen to ignore it when I heard it again, louder this time. I listened closer then swallowed hard, because it was a beastly sound, like an animal clawing to get in.
I racked my mind for what it could be. I live on the second floor, so whatever was clawing—beating, now—wasn't an idly curious passerby. This thing wanted in, badly, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I strained my ears to the sounds and curled even closer to my wall, instinctually protecting my underbelly and exposing my bony back. While I lay there waiting for hell-knew-what to finally break through my window, I realized exactly what was scratching so feverishly:
Rain.
Those angry clouds had finally released their torrents, slowly at first, then throwing it down with enough force to make my window rattle in its frame. They were so thick and dark that I couldn't tell if the sun had set or not.
Rain is an interesting thing for me. I find it mesmerizing, with its steady rhythm and occasional peals of thunder. During a summer downpour, I can often be found outside with my arms stretched out on either side of me and my face tilted up at the sky, welcoming the water. My dad sometimes asks me why I do this, and I patiently explain to him that the rain is so pure, so precious, that it feels like God is reaching down and hugging me. Dad doesn't usually understand what I mean once I say this, as he is a practical sort of person with little use for dreamy words. So he leaves me alone in the rain and I stand there, soaked to the bone and completely content. I don't need to be standing in it for this feeling to come; the mere presence fills me with this peace that flows to every extremity. And it always has this effect. Always.
Slowly, I came back to myself, and realized that I had stopped crying, first stopped by my fear, then kept away by my awe and fascination. The sharp, hurting sensation had fled my chest and I no longer felt like was going to suddenly start sobbing uncontrollably all over again.
I began smiling as I realized, then, that I hadn't been ignored. I hadn't been abandoned. I had needed a hug desperately, and that prayer was answered in a completely different way from what I was expecting. But in its sudden, unanticipated arrival, that rainy hug soothed me more than any sought-after comfort could have done.


:)
~Godspede

P.S. My DeviantArt page's link is ever-present...just click on the tab at the top of this page that says "Links you might like" and it's under there.

Tidbit: Luther

I've stated this before, but for the sake of this particular blog post I'm going to restate it: I'm a Lutheran.
A Lutheran? you might ask, What's a Lutheran?

I love this question because of the beautiful answer I get to give. You see, the founder of my religion was a German fellow by the name of Martin Luther. Luther was a Catholic priest, and one day while he was looking through the Bible for his next sermon he came across a passage that read, "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast" (Eph. 2:8-9). He wondered to himself why he had never heard that passage before. And with that, he decided to nail 95 Theses to some church doors and began the Protestant Reformation.

This is the great thing about Christianity. You don't have to be a perfect saint for your entire life in order to go to Heaven; you could realize at the end of your life that God is great and wish that you had been a saint. And that realization, that wish... they're your salvation....

~Godspede

Muses: Poetry

Poetry? Poetry.
What I love about this poem is that the first three stanzas were scribbled on a piece of paper and stuffed into my bag. I found it nearly a month later, and I thought for a moment then wrote the last two stanzas. I then tucked it away and found it a year later, and chuckled at my giving advice to myself.
This poem is also on my DeviantArt page, and it's just called Untitled. The link to my DA page is always under the tab labelled "Links you might like" at the top of the page.

Moving up while looking down
Smiling face when heart's a frown.
Steady grip; spinning head
Empty laughter, emotions dead.

Falling over, faces high
Lightness shining, dark is nigh.
Parts of mind left buried deep
Depths of soul you're forced to keep

Keeling over in midst of day
Grimly show you're not okay
People pray it's not too late
How will you accept your fate?

Discuss your problems. Face the fear.
Duck the evil! Keep love near.
Follow paths and ride the dreams
See the 'full life' for all it seems

Trust the instinct. Burn your doubt.
Smile and mean it, never pout.
Respect your mom and honour your dad.
Live all the goodness; laugh at the bad.

~Godspede

Visions: Music

So, I'm not a particularly skilled songwriter. I do, however, have a trained enough ear to pick out melodies from music. This sheet just has the vocal line which I tend to copy out first, and then next I copied out the piano line. I like the way the picture turned out, though.

~Godspede

Muses: Lovers

Early today, I got to thinking about my multitude of lovers.
I know what you're thinking: Seriously, chicka, I didn't need to know that. I don't want to hear about your intimate life. But you're thinking of the wrong lover.
I once wrote that we have different kinds of lovers in our life. There are the lustful lovers, the ones who sleep together and don't actually love each other in any way. Then there's the lovers who are still lustful, but also have a lot of love for each other.
Then there's the kind I was thinking about: the kind who just have a lot of love. Those people are who make the world go 'round, don't you think? They are the ones who form, essentially, your safety net. They catch you once you fall, and they tell you some of the things you want to hear but all of the things you need to hear.

In this sense, I have lots of lovers.
I've got my family, which is huge and amazing... it consists of my mom, dad, five brothers, three sister-in-laws, one niece, and one nephew. They all support me extensively, and no matter how nuts they drive me I wouldn't trade them for the world.
I've got my best friend, who puts up constantly with all my nonsense and who has an endless fountain of happiness and support whenever I need it. I'm so glad we discovered each other as friends, because there are times when she is the sole reason I can smile and carry on. And I've got my other friends, the relatively new, exciting kind, where every moment you're discovering something new about each other.
And of course, I've got my Father and His Son, who love me so unconditionally that I can't even begin to explain its depth.

And this? This brings me comfort. 'Cause I, like everyone at some point in their lives, am terribly insecure. There are times when I sit down and feel worthless. At those points, I seek out my lover and I give them a big hug. Because there's nothing more comforting than a hug, right? Hugs remind me that these people, they love me for who I am.
But sometimes these people aren't around for a hug. So I sit there wallowing in my lack of self-worth, until I remember that I've forgotten two very big People. And so I pray. It's usually a short one, something along the lines of Hey God, it's me again. I feel like dirt today, and I've probably done everything wrong in your book. Is it actually possible for you to still love me?
And then I experience something that I can honestly only describe as a Heavenly Hug. It's like that sensation of drinking hot chocolate on a freezing Canadian winter day, where this warmth floods your entire body and makes you smile.

So I got to thinking about my lovers today. Have you ever sat down and thought of them? If you did, I think you'd be surprised. And comforted.


~Godspede

Muses: Love of a Child

You know that nephew that I keep mentioning? Well, I don't know if I've mentioned before that he has a little sister... but he does. He's four, and she's two. The little dear has formed an attachment to me. I'm not sure when this happened, to be honest, but it's awesome 'cause she's the sort of child who loves to be snuggled and cuddled.
So yes. Today's story, my children, takes place on New Year's Day. I was at my brother and sister-in-law's for a nice family dinner. When I got there with my mom, dad, and two of my other brothers, I was told by my sister-in-law's mother that my niece had been eagerly waiting for me to arrive. Once she saw me, she ran over to me and demanded to be held. For the rest of the evening she wanted to be by my side, playing with her uncles and baby-talking with her Nana, but always making sure I was within eye-shot. When her bed-time came, she refused to let her mom brush her teeth or put on her pyjamas... Aunty had to. And when the time came for her to be tucked in, she didn't want Mommy or Daddy to do it... Aunty had to. So I went upstairs and put her in her crib.
She didn't lie down, like she usually does once you place her in there. She stood instead, holding on to the railing and saying my name in her soft little voice: "Aunty... Aunty...".She's never done this before and I babysit for my brother often, so I knelt in front of her and asked, "What's wrong, sweetie?"
She looked at me, then threw her arms around my neck, buried her face into my shoulder, and started sobbing. "Aunty, don't leave! Don't go! Stay!"
I was kind of stunned speechless. Having a little, beautiful two-year old cling to you like that, well, it breaks your heart. But I couldn't take her out and indulge her... I was going home soon, and it was way past her bedtime. So I told her that I'd stay there until she fell asleep, and that I loved her lots and lots and that I knew she was sleepy (she had been falling asleep in my arms)... after a lot of that sort of convincing, she lay down on her bed and let me tuck her in, sniffling occasionally but looking incredibly tired.

I felt like such a villain when I shut off the light and left the room. All that my poor little niece knew was that her Aunty wasn't staying with her, and now she was all alone in a little room. She didn't understand something, though; she wasn't old enough to understand the one thing that makes me feel safe enough to fall asleep at night.
All that she knew was that she was alone, but what she didn't realize was that... she wasn't. She never is. Yes, her mommy and daddy were downstairs, but there was Someone upstairs for her, too. Someone that would provide all the comfort and protection she'll ever need in her life.

~Godspede

Merry Christmas!!

And so this is Christmas... and what have I done?

Nothing, it seems, to this poor little blog. I'm so sorry for my absence, but it turns out that the last year of high school spits out a large amount of homework, and so when I have free time I sort of relish it and let my brain shut down, essentially.

But apologies are not the purpose of this post. Today is Christmas Eve, and in about half an hour it will officially be Christmas. So...

Merry Christmas!

Last year I posted the passage from Luke that is the Christmas story. The link to it is here: LINK! and I will post the URL at the bottom of the post.

My four year old nephew has a habit of justing shouting Happy Birthday! to everyone when he knows it's a special occasion. No, he's not getting his celebrations mixed up, he's just a little monkey like that. But today when he stood in the middle of my living room and shouted it, it somehow seemed appropriate.

Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Talking to my mom today, I mentioned how every year, Christmas more and more seems to lose its sparkle. I no longer get all giddy at the thought of it, and instead of wanting to stay up all night (to see "Santa"), I'm actually pretty darn sleepy right now. The only reason I'm still up is that this blog post is my present to you, my few but very much loved readers.
However, this isn't to say that I'm not excited for Christmas now. I'm actually quite excited. The sensation that I get is akin to the one I get when my two year old niece snuggles up to me and falls asleep... you know, that warm sensation that travels down to your toes and up to your nose? Christmas has stopped being this awesome time where I get lots of presents from this big guy with a tummy as large as his toy sack, and more about
a little baby who was born in a manger this day and just so happens to have saved all of our souls.

My pastor during today's sermon mentioned the lyrics to the song Mary Did You Know?, and I'd like to end this post with them (I always attend the Christmas eve service... if I didn't, I don't think it would quite feel like Christmas). And I think that they are enough in themselves... they don't need to be elaborated upon. I'd suggest doing a youtube search on the song if you aren't familiar with it, because it's one of the most gorgeous Christmas/Advent songs you'll ever hear. I recommend Kenny Roger's version, but that would be because my family is way into country music, and all our Christmas CDs are by country artists. Ergo, a country version of the song is way more Christmas-y to me.

Mary, did you know that your baby boy
Would one day walk on water?
Mary did you know that your baby boy
would save our songs and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy
has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered
will soon deliver you...

Mary did you know that your baby boy
will give sight to the blind man?
Mary did you know that your baby boy
will calm the storm with his hand?
Did you know that your baby boy
has walked where angels trod?
When you kiss your little baby, you kiss the face of God...

Oh Mary, did you know...

The blind will see
The deaf will hear
The dead will live again
The lame will leap
The dumb will speak
The praises of the Lamb!

Mary did you know that your baby boy
is Lord of all creation?
Mary did you know that your baby boy
will one day rule the nations?
Did you know that your baby boy
is Heaven's perfect Lamb?
The sleeping child you're holding is the
Great
I
Am...

~Godspede

The URL: http://justtryasking.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas.html
The Bible passage in it: Luke 2: 1-20 (NIV)

Muses: Poor, Unfortunate Souls

This is an excerpt from my pastor's sermon:

Famous Christian author, Tony Campolo, once said that on one of his mission trips to Haiti, he was walking the streets, praying for this poverty-stricken country. Three little girls approached him from the street. The oldest one of them was fifteen; the other two much younger.
As they approached him, the oldest one said, "Sir, if you give me ten dollars you can have me for the night." Campolo wondered how many American businessman had come to Haiti and used God's children in that way.
He said, "Really? For ten dollars, I can have you for the night?"
She said, "Yes."
He said, "Well, what about your friend here; can I have her for the whole night for ten dollars also?"
She said, "Yes."
He pointed to the third girl. "How about you; can I have you for ten dollars for the whole night?"
She said, "Yes."
He said, "Fine. Meet me at this hotel at six o'clock tonight." They agreed to be there. He went back to his hotel and rented a VCR and had it brought up to his room. He scoured the city for Disney tapes and bought all of them that he could find. At a quarter to six, he ordered four banana splits (one was for him!). When they came, they stayed up late eating banana splits and watching The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and other movies. The last of them conked out at one in the morning.
For at least one night, those children were given their childhood back because someone cared enough to treat them as Jesus taught us.

Imagine the life a prostitute lives.
Imagine being so poor and so desperate that you'd actually sell your body to complete strangers.
...poor souls with nothing else to turn to.
And then imagine being fifteen or younger and doing this. By entering into such a life, which they had doubtlessly been in for years already, they not only sell their bodies but also their innocence, their childhood, their purity.
It warms me down to my toes to know that someone took the initiative to give back their childhood and their young innocence, even if just for a few hours. It's such a powerful move... and what a perfect way to evangelize. This man didn't walk up to the girls and berate them for giving themselves away time and time again and for making a poor life choice. No, he looked at them and saw children being forced by their social and economic circumstance to behave like adults, and decided to change that for at least one night.

"By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13:35 NKJV)

~Godspede

Tidbits: Reformation Day.

October 31st is called Reformation Sunday in the Lutheran church. It is the day, historically, when Martin Luther nailed the 95 Theses to the doors of the Catholic Church, which was the thing that really seemed to kick-start the protestant Reformation. To honour this (as I am a Lutheran), I thought I would put some of Martin Luther's quotes up, the ones that I find particularly special, and just, you know, comment on them. Like I do.

~~~

"Even though I am a sinner and deserving of death and hell, this shall nonetheless be my consolation and my victory that my Lord Jesus lives and has risen so that He, in the end, might rescue me from sin, death, and hell."
I find that the most beautiful thing about Christianity is that we are sinners and so undeserving of love that really, God should just throw his hands in the air and give up on us. But he doesn't. He just keeps on believing in us again and again and again.

~~~

"God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars."
I read a story one time about a monk who spent his entire life trying to find God. In his old age, he was in the midst of despair because of his lifetime of dedication when all of a sudden, a leaf blew in front of him. Then all of a sudden he realized that the leaf... it was God. The trees, the water, the very ground that he sat on, every object around him, everything was God. And that news made him so happy that he got up and he just danced.
God is certainly found in nature, and all around us. I can feel it every time I watch the sun set or feel the breeze brush against my skin.

~~~

"If you are not allowed to laugh in heaven, I don't want to go there."

This is my last, and my favourite. Who wants to live somewhere that you can't experience joy?

I believe that in heaven, there will be laughing and joy, dancing and singing. It'll be the merriest party we've ever seen, and it will be made the merriest by the presence of our Heavenly Father.

~Godspede

Another comic for the day

I have another comic I'd like to share. The website, once again, is not a religious website. The artist simply happens to occasionally draw things that are religious. And again, this comic is more often then not dirty, and it usually contains swears. The name of the site is Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal and it updates daily (even on weekends!)
This particular comic isn't really what I'd consider funny. It just made me blink then smile, softly. It rings pretty close to home.

The URL is: http://www.smbc-comics.com

Link to comic: http://www.smbc-comics.com/index.php?db=comics&id=1851

And here it is (Warning, it's long):


~Godspede

Tidbits: Let My Words Be Few

I find it easier to concentrate on homework if I have music playing around me, so today as I wrote a paper on English I had a playlist on Youtube of Christian songs. When one song came on I happened to glance at it and saw an incredibly long post by the creator of the video. I decided to read it, and I thought I'd share it with you. The link to the video is at the bottom of this post, and if you click on the title of this post it'll bring you there (note: if you have a Windows and hold the ctrl-key while clicking the title, it'll pop it up on a new tab/window) (note #2: I've fixed his/her typos, and only the ones that are possible to "fix" without changing the meaning of his/her post).

Music video slide show created and inspired by the beautiful Christian worship song Let My Words Be Few by Phillips, Craig & Dean. I couldn't sleep very well one night this past week so I decided to peruse the Internet while at the same time listening to the Christian music radio station. I came across something online that peaked by interest. What I was viewing were actual photos from the NASA Hubble telescope. One of the photos was that of a nebula in our galaxy. A nebula is a large and colorful conglomeration of gas, dust and other matter that can be several light years in size. A nebula is what occurs prior to the birth of a new star. The short description next to the photo stated that this nebula was so far away that the image snapped by the Hubble telescope took place 3,000 years before Jesus was born on earth. The attached article went on to explain that our Milky Way galaxy is nearly 100,000 light years across. In other words if we could travel at the speed of light, or 186,000 miles per second, it would take 100,000 years to cross it. If you do the math, that is 586,971,360,000,000,000. For the record, that's 586 quadrillion, 971 trillion, 360 billion miles across. And within our own galaxy, the nearest sun to our sun is 4 light years way, which is a "mere" 25 trillion miles. And we are only talking about the Milky Way galaxy, not to mention the hundreds or even thousands galaxies around it.

God is so incredible and so awesome we can barely comprehend how big He really is. But God didn't create just things that are incredibly huge. As we all know, all matter is made up of incredibly tiny particles. As early as the 1800's, scientists believed that molecules were the smallest structures in the universe. They were able to see them with a regular microscope. But by the end of that century they realized that molecules were made up of even smaller particles called atoms. Atoms cannot be seen by any typical microscope, it requires an electron microscope. So just how small is an atom? If you lined up the atoms in a straight line on a period printed on this page it would take 2 million atoms to cross the diameter of that period. And if that is not incomprehensible enough, today we know that there are particles that are thousands of times smaller inside the atom. For example the neutron, a particle located inside the atom, is 10,000 times smaller than the atom.

Again, God is so incredible and so awesome we can barely understand how significant He really is. During His creation, God was the ultimate chemist, physicist, astronomer, and biologist. He was most certainly an artist, a maker of all of our world's and universe's beauty. He was the lawmaker of all of the unseen forces that make "nature" orderly and predictable. The universe as it exists was not produced by some cosmic accident. I know with all my heart that the conditions of creation were intricately planned and considered. A mindless uncontrolled "big bang" would result in destruction and chaos, not the life and order we now see. Thus God created the big and the small, so incredibly big and so infinitely small that is difficult to describe or comprehend it.

The most amazing thing to me is that as small and insignificant we truly are relative to the size and complexity of the entire universe that God created, the Bible tells us that what the Lord wants most is a relationship with each and everyone of us and that He is there for us at all times, if only we will reach out to Him. And if we conclude that God truly is the maker of all things huge and small as described previously, then why do we have difficulty surrendering our will to him? Are we so blind or arrogant to think that our problems, our hurts, our habits or our hang-ups are too big or too complicated for God?

That evening as I was looking at the photos of the stars, planets and galaxies and researching related articles, a song came on the radio called Let My Words Be Few. One of the verses in that song hit me like a lightning bolt: "I Stand in Awe of You". That is exactly how I felt at that very moment; that is, how awesome God really is. This backdrop was the inspiration for the following music video that I created that night using real photos that I found on the Internet and that beautiful song, Let My Words Be Few performed by the Christian group Phillips, Craig & Dean. It was totally God-inspired. True to the title of the song, the lyrics are indeed simple and few. But that may be the best way to describe how we should feel and act when we come to pray and humble ourselves to our wonderful creator. He truly is our Alpha and Omega. It doesn't get any simpler than that. To Him, I stand in awe.
                                                                                                        --HaitiMissionary

http://youtu.be/12z4dvc2kjo


~Godspede

Visions: Nails

Note: I had to climb a tree to get this picture. I was higher than the roof of my boathouse. Appreciate it.

When one of my older brothers was a preteen, he didn't want to build a treehouse; he wanted to just put platforms in a tree so that it still had that adrenaline feeling of being in a tree, but had the stability and comfort to stay up there for a while. These platforms went way high up in the tree, higher than he'd ever be able to climb without them.
When my younger brother and I became old enough to climb trees, we naturally loved these platforms. The only problem is that since my older brother is my elder by six years, these platforms had become pretty unstable---they had only been made out of chipboard. So my trusty little brother borrowed a hammer from my dad and knocked off the boards, which were mostly rotten. He tried to pull out the nails but they were stuck fast. And every time I see the nails, I can't help but hear the voice in my head label them as a "nail in the tree".

Tidbits: Promises

On the bulletin board in my kitchen, there's a little poem that's been there for as long as I can remember. A few years ago my mom got me to retype it, as it was so old and so punctured by thumbtacks that it was falling apart. I typed it to be exactly the same as it had been before, down to the little picture of the Trinity that was beside it, and I thought it was appropriate to share here.

God has not promised skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways all our life through.
God has not promised sun without rain,
Day without sorrow; peace without pain.

But God has promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labour, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.


 ~Godspede

Visions: Little dude

First off, yes. Yes, I do call my four-year old nephew little dude. He grins, does a little "how absurd!" laugh that he got from his daddio (my brother), then runs off to tackle his Uncle Great (Greg).

Now, to my pictures. When I go to bed at night, there's a wall that I wind up staring at until my eyes obey my command to stay closed. On this wall, I've hung things that make me smile: my certificates to prove I've passed certain levels in piano (first class honours with distinction, baby), art from when I was younger, heartfelt things people have bought me, and best of all -- art my nephew has made me.

Last Easter, he painted everyone watercolour pictures and gave them as gifts. He's so precious... my best friend (my brothers call her "pseudo-sis") was sitting next to me, over for Easter. My nephew hadn't anticipated this, so when he had given everyone their art and he didn't have one for her, he thought for a minute and told me that the painting he gave me could be for both of us (his words, I believe, were "umm... aunty, that's for you and her, K?")
I asked him what the painting was of, and he told me that it was "Princess turning into the Easter bunny" (Princess is my cat, remember).
So precious.

This was the top half of the birthday card he gave me this year. I love his drawings of people!! They have hair, arms, legs, and eyes with pupils! So awesome...
This is two people jumping rope. I asked him what it was about and who the people were, and he thought about it then said he couldn't remember. Heh.

These are some tulips that he made my mom and I. I can't remember how long ago they're from, I just know that I keep them in that porcelain watering can I won at a bridal shower. It seemed useless at the time, but now it has a purpose. And yes, it is posing on top of my laptop.

Art given from a 4-year old feels so special, doesn't it? There's just something particularly gratifying about knowing that a child loves you. It's like it gives you a place in the world. And this little child is full of lots and lots of love... he's a blessing in a little, rambunctious package.

~Godspede

Tidbit: Joy

It's amazing how ordinary things can be so inspirational and so uplifting.

This blog is aware that my French teacher died last year (see here). On the day that we found out, I happened to have choir practise that afternoon. I went with my best friend even though we were both pretty emotionally stripped. When we showed up, I told the choir leader what had happened---my friend burst into tears after hearing me just start the sentence.
That practise was very sombre. Whereas they are usually filled with laughing and teasing and the general weirdness that befits us, at this one we barely even smiled. We were distinctly just going through the emotions without feeling or meaning a single word that we sang.
The last song we did was called "Days of Elijah". I'm sure you can youtube it and find the melody, but our particular arrangement of it is very upbeat, with an infectious rhythm and a bouncy piano part. We debated whether or not we should actually sing it.
Eventually I sat at the keys and stared at the page for a few seconds then started to hit the notes, feeling mostly unemotional. But as I began to play through it and the singers joined in, my voice mingling with their's, I felt my fingers begin to become more lively.
About halfway through the song I looked up at my friend, who was looking back at me. I had a small smile from the pure enjoyment I was getting from playing that piano part, and she saw my smile and got a small one of her own. Her small smile made mine grow, which made hers grow, and so on until I chuckled and she got lost and we both started laughing as we entered into the chorus of the song. After the practise we still had those smiles on our faces and our spirits were considerably lifted. That one song, with its fun beats and inspiring lyrics, managed to make our whole day better.
I thought of this at my choir practise yesterday, a different one without that friend. We sang Days of Elijah, and as I sat down at the keys I got a small, sad smile thinking of that French teacher, then a warmer smile as I remembered what a wonderful effect that song has.
I just thought I should share.

~Godspede

Muses: Good/Bad

When I was just coming out of my really low spell, my mom had this habit where every morning, sometime after I'd gotten downstairs (my bedroom is upstairs) and there wasn't too many people around me, she'd ask me "is this a good day or a bad day?" Good days, back then, just meant that I had the will to live. Gradually as I got better the meaning expanded, growing to include not feeling irritable, having a bit of a smile, laughing occasionally, and upward. Bad days used to mean that I was exploring the depths of despair again, toying with ideas that are not light enough to be toyed with. Though of course days where I feel like that always will be bad days, they also grew to include lighter definitions as my mood crept upwards on the depression scale: things like feeling listless, irritable, extremely distracted and, my old normal, numb.
My mom asked me that question again a few days ago. She's quite perceptive of when I've been creeping down the scale, so she notices the reasons behind my seemingly random mood swings. The huge benefit to this is about my irritability. See, I have a rather bad temper. So when I'm feeling down in the dumps, I'll often wake up with this ball of anger wenched in my stomach, just waiting to burst out and punch someone in the face. I do my best to control it, but I wind up being less than polite to everyone. My mom, such a kind person, puts up with it if she sees its reasonable cause. I love my mom. Have I mentioned that before?
My answer was it was a bad day, because I felt alone in the world... alone, with no one to love me because I was so worthless. I've discovered that I have self-worth and self-image issues, which results in me being very hard on myself. So my mom walked over and gave me a huge hug, kissed the side of my head, and told me that she loved me and that she'd never stop.
It felt good to be loved.

This event made me realize something. That question is so important to ask ourselves everyday.
Is this a good day or a bad day?
Knowing the answer will drastically change how we look at ourselves. For example, today was a good day for me, so I was able to practise for a couple of hours at the piano, drilling bits that were difficult and challenging myself around every corner. But yesterday was a bad day, and I couldn't even finish one song. I didn't push myself, either, because I knew I would get frustrated and end up feeling like I was just too stupid to ever learn a piece like that. I recognized the state of my emotions, and I was able to adjust accordingly.

Is this a good day or a bad day?
On a good day, I'll stay at home and I'll read. I'll finish that stuff I've been letting pile up. I'll clean my room; I'll do menial work that just has to be done, no matter how much I hate doing it.
On a bad day, I'll call up a friend and talk for an hour, then go to her house and hang. I'll play a video game, I'll watch a movie. I'll turn on a comedy rant that I love and laugh my butt off. Key thought, here: I'll distract myself. I know that my bad days will become worse if I try to subject myself to solitary activity. So I'll get happy stuff around me. I'll fake a good day. Something I learnt a while back is that if you fake a good day for long enough, it'll stop being fake.

~Godspede

Now I'm asking you

So. I've noticed that I have more followers to this blog... people that I don't actually know. While this is cool, it also means that I don't know what you're looking for. So if you don't mind, I'd like you to tell me why you started following the blog, and for you to tell me your favourite section. The sections, which I'll list at the end, have two different names: the full name that I call "key words" and an abbreviated version that I put at the beginning of the title. The key words are at the bottom of every post that are in that category, and a list of them are on the right panel of the blog. The bigger the phrase, the more posts under that category. And if you click on the phrase, it'll bring up all of the posts that are under that category.

They are as follows:
Entertaining my muses (Muses)
My inner vision (Visions) [this is the picture section]
Prayers (Prayer[s])
Questions: ANSWERED
Tidbits
Sermon (Sermon #)

Please tell me the one you'd like to see again or more often. This will help me prioritize. Thank you!

~Godspede

Visions: Music

Okay, so I'm a musician. I play piano, flute, sing, and I dabble in guitar. So one day, I decided that I wanted to have a Christian display picture on my instant messaging account and took this picture. (Bonus points if you can figure out the song).
The only problem with this picture is that every time I look at it, the song gets stuck in my head... and mostly just that particular section of it. At first it doesn't bother me, but when I see the picture often... I get slightly tired of the song. Then I change my display picture.

~Godspede

Sermon 11

Sayeth David:

Passage: Psalm 23 NKJV
  The LORD is my shepherd;
         I shall not want.
  He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
         He leads me beside the still waters.
  He restores my soul;
         He leads me in the paths of righteousness
         For His name’s sake.
  
  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
         I will fear no evil;
         For You are with me;
         Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
  
  You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
         You anoint my head with oil;
         My cup runs over.
  Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
         All the days of my life;
         And I will dwell in the house of the LORD
         Forever.
shep·herd (ʃɛpərd): 1. A person who herds, tends, and guards sheep. 2. A person who protects, guides, or watches over a person or group of people.

I'm pretty sure that this Bible passage is the most famous passage. I mean, I have the whole thing memorized... and I was surprised when I went to look it up that I had memorized the New King James version of the passage. I don't think I even own a copy of that particular translation, and I do have several different Bibles.

Part of this Psalm is my second favourite Bible passage, right after Luke 23:39-43 ---the one with the two other criminals hanging on the crosses at the same time as Jesus, and where one is told He'll be in Paradise after standing up for Jesus and asking for redemption. Anyway, the part that's my favourite is the "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...", 'cause that really is what faith is to me: fearing nothing, not even death, because you know that God's going to be there right there beside you. I do take comfort in His rod and staff. I'm overfilled with His blessings.
Basically, what I'm saying is that I love Psalm 23 because it rings so, so true. That's probably why so many people know it, too. Psalm 23, one of many psalms of David, is a summary of our relationship with our Father, and a reminder that we can, as I read somewhere, let go and let God.

~Godspede