Later, again.

Currently on my last I’ll-stay-up-until-the-wee-hours-of-the-morning-then-wake-up-right-before-lunch-ooh-perfect-things-while-on-holiday for the year. To be honest, the holidays were kind of disappointing. Now I’m not sure if this is normal, but it seems to be among yuppies or at least for those really working on trying to figure out what to do with their lives, to get that serving of blues right before the year finishes. I won’t lie, there were three consecutive days when I just cooped out without a word because I was caught smack in between panic/fear and some good faith in possibilities. Champagne was my savior.

During the past year, I realized that I was a go-getter in so many ways that I’m just darn proud. I was out there and I was doing! and although I did not exactly get everything that I went for, the pitches were thrown, gave it my best hit and now I’m ending the year feeling fantastic because it was a home run.

I learned a lot about myself this year. That really is the exchange when you simply decide to face life head on. Backing down? What on earth is that. I found myself doing things, wholeheartedly I must say, that I never thought I would. It’s funny when I recall how I gave so much of myself in a year and yet, I feel that I have gained more than ever. Let us not get too giddy though, it wasn’t a smooth ride. Rain checks, striking out — awful days and nights, times when you feel horrible and drowning seemed interesting— all part of the package. My wallet and bank accounts were unfortunate victims, too.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that life is one crazy force, and if you just let it carry you, you just might find yourself in a place where you’ll feel spot on, as though it was just waiting for you to arrive.

Who knew that this would turn out to be a year end entry. Up until its last day, this year just won’t quit surprising me. I can’t say I’m not smirking.

One hundred eighty eight.

188 drafts, to say that I have been stuck in a rut would just be absolute rubbish. With all honesty, I have no idea how to draw this out of my system, whatever this is, and put it into writing. I will be honest and say that there will be plenty, if not an avalanche, of unsteady entries. All the same, I’m determined.

So there has been an ongoing purge. I stopped myself from displaying too much emotions for the sake of…self-preservation. Now I just realized how crazy that comes off. Writing has always given me comfort, a form of release I’ve always cherished—hence what was in your head to take on a choice that inhibited you from doing the things you love, because you weren’t sure how to feel, since frankly you don’t know how else to coin it.

Of course that wasn’t the whole story. You were happy, over the moon happy. It was well worth it. And that’s why you took the time off from writing, you chose to feel and live, solely.

But it’s not so easy to write when you’re happy. Not because you have less feelings or feelings about those feelings, or because your happy feelings are any less worthy of being written about than your sad feelings, but simply because being happy makes you want to do rather than respond. Being happy makes you want to go out and enjoy your happiness — there’s just no incentive for you to be crouching in half darkness over your notebook or laptop, muttering sinisterly and chain smoking for days on end without showering when you’re happy.

Whatever it is that’s making you happy, you just want to enjoy it — you certainly don’t want to hole yourself up in a dank, windowless room writing moving things about your feelings, you want to be out FEELING THEM. You don’t want to talk; you want to do. You don’t want to reflect; you want to be. So it’s harder, much harder, to write when you’re happy. You know people want to read about your happiness, that yes, people will relate, just as they relate to your sadness. And you know that when you’re happy, you’ll rush through whatever it is you’re writing anyway, because you just want to thrust open a window looking down over a busy street and sing out to the crowd before you race down into the throng to embrace whatever it is that is making you so deliriously, distractingly, overwhelmingly happy.

SOURCE

Is this an attempt to be cryptic in saying that I’m in a sorry state? I won’t sugarcoat, it’s slightly shameful to have gone back to writing only because I’m at a tipping point. I’m not exactly sure how I got here but it’s more than true to say that sadness triggers analysis, plus we’ve got less than a week left for 2011. Nope, the hormonal rage isn’t making this any lighter.

Oh well who knows with these magnificent combinations, they sometimes say the mad ones do get all the glory at the end. I mean, to justify all the extra alloted shit, there must be something a bit more at the finish line.

CCF's focus on the Family

I love my family even if it is dysfunctional sometimes.

My father was a man of principles and wisdom. When I was younger his form of discipline was his belt. When I got older it became one on one discourses. Whether it be spanking or talking, every single session would end with him praying then hugging me. So even if I felt bad or guilty, I knew I was very much loved.

My mom on the other hand had a completely different strategy because she has super powers – Ultra Pinch and Mega Eyes. Whenever I do something bad, she’d instantly pinch any part of my body her fingers could reach. This ultra pinches are long and hard, I find myself repenting for present, past and future sins. She fires the Mega Eyes when I commit a booboo and we are in public company. She’d stare at me with her mega round unblinking eyes and I’d know I was in big trouble. All her power exhibitions taught me a lot about manners and respect.

My sisters would be the same siblings I’d pick if I were to live another life. Yes, we do fight a lot but the love my parents bonded us with is greater than all our misunderstandings put together. There is no such thing as a perfect family. But there can always be a perfectly loved family.

My mom and dad raised us in just two ways: in the FEAR of God and with the LOVE of God. Everything else stemmed out from that. I just finished listening and watching CCF’s archived sermon series about FAMILY. As I listened to Ptr. Peter Tanchi I remembered my dad and how he not only preached the same Biblical principles but how he modeled them in our family life.

I am personally very picky with sermons and I am sharing this because a lot of us have the same desires: to be a better parent, be a better son or daughter, raise exceptional kids or start a happy family. I took the pains of putting these together because I know, if one spends just an hour of a busy day and listen to what God has to say, lives will be changed.

The videos/audios can be an hour long so I suggest you take time and watch one sermon a week or a day. Click on the photo to go to the link.


Here's a summary:

* Focus on the Family
*Heart Parenting
*Build Positive Relationships
*Teach Intentionally Part I
*Teach Intentionally Part II
*Train Your Children
*How to Treat Family Members

The quality of the relationship parents cultivate with their children determines the weight of their influence. We only have one life and it is too short for trial and error.