God is good

in the midst of emo meltdowns

he disrupts despair

and restores

the joy of salvation.

dads and control issues

I can tell it bothers my dad that I’m leaving UCLA. He texted me last night after I told him I had to go on the phone because I did not want to hear him tell me about how I should go about finding a job. (He suggested that I ask my boss and UCLA professors for letters of recommendations for jobs that I hadn’t yet applied for even though employers don’t ask for letters of recommendations. He thinks this way my former supervisors will be able to remember me because in his words “if it’s not in writing, it does not exist”).

His text asked me if perhaps the difficulty I have experienced so far (after actively looking for jobs for a week…)  was perhaps a way of God telling me I should stay in the PhD program…

Instead of calling him to yell at his face that this program is KILLING MY SOUL, I texted him that I didn’t hear God telling me to stay or to leave.

He asked if we could talk about this another time.

Dads and control issues. Tell me something I don’t know.

on talking to strangers

Today I met a rapper on my way home. He explained to me an acronym “RHILL”, which stands for “respect”, “honesty”, “integrity”, “loyalty”, and “love”.  I thought he was one of those crazy people who say bizarre things, but he seemed like he was there so I listened to him. Anyways, we ended up sitting on the stoop and talking for an hour. He shared with me his music and I shared with him mine. He considered it part of his work to tell people face to face about “RHILL” since it’s related to his music and he’s trying to make it as a rapper. He told me he was surprised that I talked to him. I told him I was surprised that we were having a conversation.

I decided at some point that I’m open to listening to people who make conversation with me (depending on how safe I am) on the street because it’s an opportunity for me to share with them the gospel. I don’t enjoy sharing the gospel and if someone’s going to throw some random information in my face, I’ll throw some information back.

I told him about how I grew up in a nice neighborhood and why I lived in Oakland. I told him that my co-worker was killed for no reason, possibly gang-related initiation. He whispered to me that he used to be a part of the gang GD and I looked it up later on wikipedia. He said gangs are a group of people that come together and he didn’t stand for the stuff he did. I asked him if his gang sold drugs and killed people. He said he grew up in a safe neighborhood but when crack came to town, gangs got in on it and greed drove them to do bad things.

Anyways, I wish I could talk to someone without wondering if they will try to kill me. I kept reading his body language, tattoos, and his clothing to see what his mental status was. I kept feeling like he would take advantage of me or at least ask me for money. In the end, though he never mentioned it, I think he is homeless and trying to make it as an artist. I hope he does.

 

 

There is no greater feeling

80 degrees in Los Angeles under the shade of a tree is truly bliss.  

 

on the gift of prophesy

Pursue love, and earnestly desire the spiritual gifts, especially that you may prophesy. (1 Corinthians 14:1)
Prophesy in the greek comes from: pro + phēmi. The verb phēmi means “to speak.” pro has many different possible meanings, depending on the context in which it is used; it can mean “before”, but it can also mean “for” or “on behalf of”.

Epicentre is big on speaking prophetic words. This is when someone shares with you a word or image or verse that God is revealing to them. Having grown up in a church that hardly mentioned the holy spirit coupled with my natural cynicism, you can imagine my skepticism towards this all.

Over time though, my heart has changed as people who don’t know me at church and people who do have spoken encouraging words into my life–words that have uplifted my spirit because I knew those words to be true and divinely-inspired. Yet, I still felt weird about practicing, let alone desiring, the gift of prophesy.

Today Lawrence made a case for prophesy. We often dismiss prophesy as one of those gifts we don’t have- certain people have certain gifts and others don’t. But, just because we don’t have certain gifts doesn’t mean we ought to disregard the pursuit of them. For instance, just because I don’ have the gift of public speaking doesn’t mean I should dismiss opportunities to voice my opinions aloud to an audience.

Since we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, each of us is to exercise them accordingly: if prophecy, according to the proportion of his faith; if service, in his serving; or he who teaches, in his teaching; or he who exhorts, in his exhortation; he who gives, with liberality; he who leads, with diligence; he who shows mercy, with cheerfulness. (Romans 12:7)

Similarly, you can take all of the gifts mentioned in Roman 12:7 and draw the same conclusions. That is, even if you don’t have the gift of service, you could still serve. In fact the way things are phrased, if you have the gift of service, you are called to exercise service. But, no where does it say that you should not exercise any of the other gifts and exclusively exercise the gift(s) you do have.

And there seems to be this extra emphasis on prophesying: earnestly desire the spiritual gifts, especially that you may prophesy. (1 Corinthians 14:1). 

Anyways, Lawrence encouraged us to practice listening to God and how He may be showing us to prophesy. I felt uncomfortable in the next couple minutes where we listened and prayed for revelation. Nothing. no word, no image, no verse came to mind. The word “faith” flashed by for a second but I wasn’t sure if I made it up or not. The worship leader came up to me and asked if she could pray with me. The word she heard for me was “compassion” and she thanked God for me and then prayed that God would continue to stretch me in this area and grow my compassion for others. I find it harder to be compassionate as I age so this was good for me to hear, even if I was a bit offended that she didn’t think of me already as compassionate enough. lol.

Anyways, I sat back down thinking I would just pray alone. I checked the room situation, expecting to see most people also praying alone, except that people were getting into pairs to pray for each other. Faith. Great, the word popped back into my head. But what if I made that word up to do this exercise? And who am I supposed to tell this word to? The people I was closest to as friends popped into my head. Eh..not them. Wait, the girl next to me? I want to but I also don’t because I’m not sure this is legit. Go, it’ll be ok. Ok, here it goes. And then I told the girl next to me this was my first time doing something like this. I told her the word and I prayed for her. I felt like my heart was completely for her in that moment and desirous of her to know how much God loved her.

Thoughts on prophesy to be continued.

my neighbor

is blasting dramatic classical music 

for the last hour. 

making it hard to sleep.

I want to kill him. 

but not really. 

inter-group work

This took about five headaches to get through. I’m proud of this because I wrote the English blurb several times until my boss approved and then our contractor decided not to include it in the final display- and then they decided to after all. Peace I’m out.

   
 

strangers comraderie

I was on campus all day today wearing a Warriors t-shirt in honor of the Warriors beating the Bull’s record number of wins in one season last night. UCLA students could care less apparently. One person today came up to me as I was waiting for the bus off campus hat would take me home and he said to me “go warriors” softly, awkwardly, and then we talked more easily about being Bay Area transplants to LA. 

In no other circumstance would an older African American man and a nerdy teenager-looking Asian American have a conversation that time and place. 

And it’s great how unexpected things like a shirt can bring people together, for a moment allowing us to realize how we might not be so different after all.

misplaced resources

My roommate and I love a particular  section at the West LA Ralphs (grocery) that sells bags of mishapen-and-delicious fruit for $1 each.

Contrast that with a meeting I sat through today about how a foundation is investing in groceries to take on risk to build in low-income communities where fresh produce is more expensive and harder to come by. 

West LA- one of the richest neighborhoods in LA county with bags of $1 fruit. 

Certain neighborhoods in LA- poor neighborhoods with liquor-store-sold expensive fruit.

road trip

it hurts my head to listen to synthesized studio constructed generic pop melodies for too long.