A Voyage

exhausted.

November 2, 2009 by Elizabeth

I am so tired.

Exhausted and I don’t know why.

I just want to sleep, and sleep, and sleep.

Today I got to go with my brother and my friend Sam and hear them talk about China in this college.

I really love listening to people talk about things that they love and have a passion for.

It just makes me really happy and encouraged and I love to watch their faces light up and see them get a smile on their face when they start thinking about the memories.

A couple days ago my dear, sweet, previous roommate came up to visit me from the south and it was so wonderful!

We totally made a wedding cake.

I have always wanted to make a wedding cake.

[pictures coming soon]

I am finally interviewing some Mexicans tomorrow for this rather large presentation/senior paper I have due.

And I simply cannot wait!

So excited to learn more about Mexican culture and the Mexican people

I really, really miss my Mexican friends…a lot.

My friend sent me this card in the mail and I read it today while I was sitting in church (not that I wasn’t listening to the sermon, but rather, I was multi-tasking….it can be done) and I pretty much started crying because of how sweet she is and how much I extremely miss her. I had to close the card a couple times before I read it all the way through to maintain my composure.

Today in church I was supposed sing on the worship team (I have never sang on the worship team before, I only play the guitar and quite frankly, mics scare me…a lot), so I got the mic set up and through the whole service I was “kind of” singing in to it, it was only after the service that I realized it wasn’t even on. Which I was completely okay with and I just might keep it like that next time…seriously guys, mics scare me or maybe my voice going through the mic and coming out of speakers scares me. Either way.

The clock says 11pm right now, but my body is definitely saying it is 12am.

So I bid thee goodnight.

Sorry this is very sporadic and nonsensical.

Love to you all.

-liz

ps. currently, as you can see, I have this obsession with having all my sentences aligned to the middle of the page, I don’t know why other than it is pleasing to my eye.

what a weirdo.

Buenos noches

Or as my friend Charlie Alberto Garcia Yepez says, “buenos naches”

In the inside, I am laughing, really hard.

Posted in Blogroll | Tagged Life, love, Mexico, tired | Leave a Comment »

Today.

October 27, 2009 by Elizabeth

1. Sat next to a Latino man. He had a great smile. And it made me think of El Cedral, Sabinas, LaVilla (pronounced: la beeya, not la vill-a) , and Reynosa.

2. My bus pass actually worked and my excitement twas great. I think my bus driver may have had something to do with that, guessing by the proud-I-accomplished-something look on his face.

3. I got free chips and guacamole from Chipotle today. Speaking of Chipotle, I think it was ”order in Spanish” day today because everybody was doing it. So I went right along. But I don’t know how to say ”chips” in Spanish. So I used my very favorite category… known by many, practiced by few….Spanglish.

4. In my intercultural communications class today, we watched a fantastic video instead of going over the endless, monotonous, and extremely boring process of learning about the ”Generation of Series” I’m not even sure what it means, but thank the good Lord we are done with that section.

5. My teacher decided excuse us from doing a paper. In the good words of a very dear friend and brother of mine, “OH HAPPY DAY”-Omar Alejandro Gracia Yepez

6. My dad bought me a cup of Chai tea.

7. Tonight is Communitas.

8. I have firmly decided that I am, and probably will forever be, a stretchy pants/leggings type of girl. Since the days of old (when I got out of my “I can only wear twirly dress” days, wait, what am I saying, I still love to wear twirly dresses!) to this very moment in time as I type this, I have always preferred stretchy/legging pants to jeans. In fact, I only one pair of jeans that I will wear, other than that, it is stretchy pants for the rest of my days. and like you really wanted to know that. ha.

9. I was too lazy today and decided not to work out or go running. Now I shall pay for it for the next three days.

10. “A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need” -Proverbs 17:17

-liz

Posted in Blogroll | Tagged College, friends, Life, lists | 1 Comment »

My Meeting with Jesus (AKA Chester)

October 21, 2009 by Elizabeth

*WARNING*

This is very long.

I am going to share a story with you.

Not because I want to, but because some “people” have told me I should.

And so I will share it, but only to show you that God is constantly calling out to you (if you listen) and to show how really selfish and shallow I can be.

To begin, a couple weeks ago, I was hanging out at this certain spot on campus just because I had time to spare and I liked to walk around at this certain spot because it was interesting looking and a place I had not yet explored.

While walking down one of the side walks, I hear this creaking and cranking type of noise coming from behind me.

So, curious of the sound, I turn around and look to see what is making that noise.

What I saw froze me in my tracks and etched a look of horror on my face (I didn’t see my face to know for sure if I had “horror” etched across it, but it sure felt like I did).

Coming at me, riding this old bike, that looks something like this….

series-636-20-lowrider-bike

….was an old man who looked like he had died back in 1848 and someone had disturbed his peaceful slumber and had taken him out of his eternal bed (coffin) and set him on the bike he was presently riding and gave him a little push my way.

He was wearing a faded, black top hot, and had long, thin, yellow/white-ish looking hair whisking out from under it.

He also had a very long scraggly beard (and a sad looking mouth that was hiding under it) and was dressed in a suit coat that prompted me to assume he was from the 1800’s.

The thing about him that had the most horrifying effect was his face…..

His face was rather wide, but extremely wrinkled and sunken in. His pallor was an ashen grey, and he had a larger looking nose. But his eyes…..his eyes (which were set under his bushy white eyebrows) were a glossy faded blue; distant eyes, eyes that have seen a lot in this world, and has not liked much of what they have seen. They were sad eyes. Eyes that probably told many stories if I would have looked into them longer, but I didn’t.

My first reaction to this dead-looking man riding straight towards me was to take a couple deep breathes and slowly turn back around and proceed to walk slowly the way in which I was at first attempting to go.

Well, I did that exact opposite.

I took a couple short, frightened breathes and then mentally freaked out and ran.

I ran around a corner and got behind some tables and chairs which I knew a bike could not manuever through and I watched him.

He wasn’t even coming after me but was biking, as it looked, his daily, regular bike path. Only, he stopped at Chipotle’s and grabbed a newspaper and sat down, about 15 feet away from me.

Well, I was sure that he was still coming after me so I kept backing away slowly, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, nor could the people who quickly walked by him.

Eventually, the old man got back up on his bike and rode away.

And I breathed a prayer right then and there that I would hopefully never see him again.

I did.

A couple days later, I am sitting in this shop by the window and I see him ride past on his bike. Again, I freak out and for about 6 minutes keep my eyes glued to the door that led outside, praying he wouldn’t come in. He never did.

A couple days later, I see him again, and again. Each time fear gathering in my throat and mind and invading my knees making them quite weak.

Well, yesterday marked four days since I had seen him last. I was VERY glad of that.

I was feeling very joyful and alive, eating some almonds and taking my time walking across this bridge when all of a sudden I heard this violin music.

I can’t remember, but I think I may have told you about the Gypsy Lady (well, I don’t know if she really is a gypsy, but she certainly looks and acts like one) who plays the violin on the bridge every once in a while. Anyway, she was playing her violin today and I stopped to listen.

The Gypsy Lady is a very talented violin player who sings sometimes as well and always plays the loveliest tunes on her violin.

That day she was playing some sort of mournful tune, and as I stopped to listen I caught out of the corner of my eye someone sitting on a bench by her, also enjoying her music.

I thought this was odd because a lot of the students at my college are very time-consumed and usually never stop to listen to the Gypsy Lady, much less any other human (yes, yes, I am guilty of that too).

So I took another look at the person who was sitting on the bench and my heart just about stopped.

It was indeed the dead-looking man in the top hat.

Without a second thought I took off walking as fast as I could, fear invading me again.

I was in the process of quickly walking away and trying to keep the fear somewhat tamed when I heard these words in my head

“You should go back”

“Haha” I thought, what a crazy person I am turning out to be. Why in the big, old, world would I say those crazy words in my head.

Then again, I heard them, louder (if words can get louder in your head):

“Go back”

It was at this point that I began to wonder who that little voice in my head was.

“Go back”

This time I was sure that the praying man I had heard speak at my church on Sunday was getting to me.

“Go back to that man, now”

Now this was definitely not me. And I knew then that it was God.

And the conversation ensued:

“Okay God” I thought, “You are out of your mind! There is NO WAY I am going back to that man!”

“Go back and give him your apple”

“Are you crazy God? First of all, why would I go back and second of all, why in the world would I give him my apple?”

“Go back and give him your apple”

“God, that guy freaks the heck out of me and why would I give him my apple…I mean, maybe if I had a granola bar, maybe then I would, but an apple….who would want someone else’s fruit?”

“Go back and give him your apple”

“Nope. Sorry God, I am not going to do that”

And so I kept on walking and was almost off the bridge when I stopped and realized that maybe I should listen to God. But giving him my apple? So I tried to reason with God.

“Okay, I’ll go back, but I’m not going to give him my apple, it’s just so weird and…well, what if he rejects my apple, or me…and then people walking by would laugh at me and think I’m a loser”

Then these words came so clear:

“I was rejected. I was mocked and laughed at”

“Dang” I thought. “You’re right”

So I slowly, oh so slowly started walking back.

When I finally reached the spot to where the dead-looking man was last sitting I found, to my utter joy and relief, that he was gone.

“Well, sorry God, too bad, he’s gone”

So I turn back around to continue walking and right away I see the dead-looking man biking right beside me.

I kind of had another freak out attack, and watched as he slowly rode away from me.

“Whew…sorry God. He’s gone. Oh well, maybe next time I see him I’ll have a granola bar in my backpack *or maybe (hopefully) I’ll never see him again*”

“Go after him”

“Haha, God, you are really funny, there is no way I am going to go after that freak. Fat chance dude”

“Go after him, pursue him”

“No way God….there is no way I am going to do that, he’s gone already”

“Elizabeth, I am constantly going after and pursuing you”

“Dang. You’re right”

So I follow the man for a while until he finally pulls over and leans his bike up against this bench, takes a seat, pulls out a cigarette and begins to smoke.

The whole time I am walking towards him, getting closer and closer, I have a billion thoughts going through my head:

“Maybe he really isn’t homeless and he will be offended if I offer him my apple. Maybe he is allergic to apples and he will think I’m trying to kill him”

and on and on.

But I knew I couldn’t turn away now.

Finally, I was about two steps away from him.

The almonds I had previously been eating were now stuck in my throat and making it very hard to breathe.

One step away.

I could smell him; his clothes, his cigarette, his hair.

I took the last step and held out my apple: “Sir, do you want my apple”

He looks at me shyly and says, “What?”

“There, you see God, he isn’t going to take my apple”

“Ask again”

“Do you want my apple, sir?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you can have it”

“Well, I mean, if you aren’t going to eat it”

“Nope. It’s all yours”

He takes it from my hand all the while not making eye contact with me, yet I still caught a glimpse of those sad, glossy, blue eyes.

“Thank you. Hmm, maybe I’ll give this to my girlfriend over there playing the violin, she likes these sort of things”

“Yeah, sure. What’s your name?”

“Chester. What’s yours?”

“Elizabeth. Nice to meet you Chester”

“Nice to meet you too. You have a good day”

And with that, I smiled, and walked away.

It was only after I had been walking for about five mintues or so that this verse popped into my head:

“‘For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you ungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and to to visit you?’ The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine you did for me’”.

-Matthew 26: 35-40

And it was at that moment that I realized that I had met Jesus.

And I started to cry.

I cried for Chester, for his sad life, for all the other Chesters out there. But mostly I cried because of how I had been treating those Chesters. Not caring, walking by them day after day, fearing them as if they were sub-human and not worth my time.

It was as if I was seeing that verse for the first time, in fact it was as if I was seeing people for the first time.

Everybody was Jesus now; the lady leaning agaisnt the wall of the bar, smoking a cigarette was Jesus. The man with the backpack on his back waiting to cross the intersection was Jesus. The man driving by in the nice car was Jesus. Everyone.

I know that I am not going to be some “saint” or “good” person for realizing this. Far, far from it. But rather, I am going to not just see people and pass them by, but with every chance, every time God leads, I am going to try to treat them like Jesus, as much as I possibly can.

-liz

Posted in Blogroll | Tagged Jesus, Life, love | Leave a Comment »

sincere.

October 21, 2009 by Elizabeth

Last night I went to my church to hear this man speak.

This man was originally from Wisconsin and he had this incredible testimony.

After he shared his testimony with us, he said that if anybody wanted prayer he would pray for them.

Normally, I don’t go up to the front of the church just because everybody else is (I suppose sometimes it is my stubbornness mixed with a sense of “I am not going to follow the crowd but wait for the Holy Spirit to prompt me to go” which can otherwise be translated into, “look at all those other people just following the crowd and going up, I am so much more spiritual then them because I am actually waiting on the Holy Spirit to guide me” which in turn, can be tranlsated to mean “Fake”, “Phoney”, “Religious hypocrite” you know what I mean)

But that night, I followed the crowd.

And I didn’t follow the crowd in hopes that people would look at me and think me “spiritual” or a “good chrisitan” for wanting prayer, or as I said before, “weak and following the crowd” just because everybody else was doing it (funny how whether I go up or not, my judgmentalism is always guiding my actions, not always, but enough for me to notice and be sickened by it)

I went up because I had heard this man’s testimony, and how God had worked through him before, and I wanted to see it, taste it, witness it….believe it.

I don’t think I went up because I was a skeptic or because I was curious to see if prayer really does work.

I went up because I knew prayer was going to work, however God moved through it, and I needed to see.

I needed to see because….well, I don’t really know. I just knew that I needed to see it…what is “it”? The Spirit manifested through prayer in people. I guess.

So I lined up with all my other brothers and sisters.

For what ever reason they stood up there, it didn’t matter to me. I felt though, that they were maybe up there for the same reason that I was, which is kind of funny because I’m not even sure of the reason why I went up there.

But there we stood. Watching the praying man move from person to person; not in any order, but only in the order of who God called him to pray for next.

I stood there, somewhere between watching and praying with the man that was praying over people. Beleiving that God was working and answering prayers right there as the man prayed.

Then, all of a sudden, I found myself looking at the carpeted floor in front of me, and feeling this HUGE load of love just being poured on me.

And I started crying.

Tears just kept slipping out from under my eyelids.

I didn’t know why, at first, I was crying but then I realized it was God. He was whispering words to my heart that only my Spirit could understand. I don’t know the words exactly, but all I knew is that He was dousing me in love.

I overheard the praying man pray for this person and he prayed God’s “liquid love” to fall on her.

And I know that was what was falling on me.

It was really quite lovely, and I was almost falling over from the power of love being poured on me.

Honestly, my legs didn’t want to hold me anymore. So I tried to dry my eyes up and shake my legs around a bit but I couldn’t stop the tears from falling or my legs from wobbling. Then I looked up and saw other people on the ground. Laying there. And decided to forget about my wobbly legs and my tear-stained eyes and face and embrace it.

Eventually I got prayed for. It wasn’t some miraculous moment, but a moment like any other moment when you are talking to God and asking for revelation and things that you normally talk about when you talk to God.

There was a difference though. And that was an expectancy. A blatant expectancy that God was going to reveal. That God was going to heal and restore.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve prayed with expectancy before to God. But nothing like this type of expectancy.

It was banking on the fact that we know all the promises of God are true and asking with the faith of a child that it would come about, that God would answer.

We were asking with sincerity.

I was reading this verse a couple days ago and I found this line that said, “Love is sincere”. And I guess I didn’t really know the right definition of sincere.

Well, it means to not be feigned or affected; without hypocrisy or pretense.

So with real, raw, honest faith, we believed that God was going to answer our prayers.

And He did.

There were miracles that night. That I saw with my own two eyes.

God was glorified. And I was hit with the realization again and again that there is no one, NO ONE like God. None.

That night I was encouraged and my faith was strengthened.

-liz

Posted in Blogroll | Tagged Faith, God, Jesus Christ, power | Leave a Comment »