'Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; fear him rather who can destroy both body and soul in hell.' Mt 10:28
This was the passage that spoke to me the most at yesterday's scrutatio. On Saturday, I went for a follow up at the doctor's office. The news he had for me was news that I had heard before. But, it was also something that I had thought I'd worked past. I thought that it was a part of my life that I had left behind me with oh so many other things. But, when the doctor said that I was severely anemic, it all came back again. Anemia, in most cases, is nothing to worry about. But, with the word 'severe' attached to it, it brings on a whole new set of possibilities.
When I was living in the states, I was diagnosed with anemia. Back then, my hemoglobin levels were at 2.7. Now, they are at 6.5. While that is nearly three times what it was in the states, it is still half of the normal levels. So, it's back to iron pills... three times a day for no less than six months... preferably for a year and a half. If, by December, my levels do not return to normal, they want to do another blood transfusion. In the states, my transfusion was 100% covered under the state health benefits. Here on Guam, I'm not so lucky. *laugh* Lucky... there's a word that I can expound on. But, I will spare you all the joy of that rant for today. I'm not sure what a blood transfusion would cost me, here on Guam. But, I do know it's beyond my reach. So, I'm praying, as hard as ever, that the iron therapy works.
Did I know I was anemic? Well, I had a feeling that I was. But, I didn't think it was this bad again. The only symptom that I had, that I knew of, was the constant fatigue. But, I had attributed that to lack of sleep due to late night meetings, planning sessions, stress... what have you. Friends would often ask me if I was getting enough sleep. In my mind, I was. But, apparently, trouble sleeping is also a symptom of anemia. As are brittle nails, irritability, the inability to concentrate, shortness of breath, swelling, bruising, and loss of appetite. I never knew that all these things were symptoms of anemia. I always thought that it was just from being so tired all the time. But, knowing now what I should have known before, I realize that I had all the symptoms.
What now? Now, I keep up with the supplements. Now, I make major lifestyle changes to accommodate this condition. No more alcohol... no more apples... no more of a LOT of things. More veggies, more meat, more greens! These are all changes that I should be making anyway. But, now, I have more of a reason, I suppose. In the long run, if things don't improve, my heart will have to work harder than it already is in order to get the oxygen it needs and to get blood circulating the way that it should. So, in the long run, severe anemia could eventually lead to heart failure. But, let's pray I nip this in the bud before it gets any worse.
Yesterday, I kept coming to passages that told me that I don't need to fear this trial that has been put in front of me. Well, the passages were more along the lines of persecution for believing in Jesus Christ. But, to me, it came as more of a message that this is a trial that will be short lived and that in the end, all I have to fear is what can eventually destroy my soul.
To my friends who have put up with my constant fatigue and irritability, thank you so much. You have no idea how much your presence in my life is helping me through this time. I'm trying not to use this condition as an excuse to be a mega pain in the butt. So, if I get to be too much, a swift kick in the butt is more than welcome. Thank you for loving me.
27.9.10
15.9.10
I'm Letting Go...
When I feel that it's spinning out of control and that other things are taking over my life, that's when I need to let it go. Let Him take control. Like that Carry Underwood song... Jesus, take the wheel. Take it from my hands. I can't do this on my own. I'm letting go. So, give me one more chance. Save me from this road I'm on.
You see, it's not that easy. Not for me, at least. I'm not one of those people who will trust fully in someone else. No matter who they are. Even if He is God. When I feel that something is taking up more and more time and that I have less time to be the me I'm used to being, I want to push that something away. To take control of the situation and set things on the path that I am choosing.
Someone once told me, 'Just receive His love. Let Him come first and all else will follow.' But, I find the more I put Him first, the less I feel like I'm being me. This may not be bad, necessarily. But, it's just something that I'm used to seeing or feeling. Change is supposed to be good, right?
So, maybe it's time to just let go and let God, so to speak. It seems to work for others! Why the heck shouldn't it work for me? I've kind of been trying to live like this for the past few weeks. I find that things come a little easier. It's easier for me to love the brother and not to judge. It's easier to take criticism like nothing more than a grain of salt. I find it's easier to say no when I'm really not feeling up to the challenge and believing that, in the end, things will be fine.
Maybe... it's time to just LET GO!
You see, it's not that easy. Not for me, at least. I'm not one of those people who will trust fully in someone else. No matter who they are. Even if He is God. When I feel that something is taking up more and more time and that I have less time to be the me I'm used to being, I want to push that something away. To take control of the situation and set things on the path that I am choosing.
Someone once told me, 'Just receive His love. Let Him come first and all else will follow.' But, I find the more I put Him first, the less I feel like I'm being me. This may not be bad, necessarily. But, it's just something that I'm used to seeing or feeling. Change is supposed to be good, right?
So, maybe it's time to just let go and let God, so to speak. It seems to work for others! Why the heck shouldn't it work for me? I've kind of been trying to live like this for the past few weeks. I find that things come a little easier. It's easier for me to love the brother and not to judge. It's easier to take criticism like nothing more than a grain of salt. I find it's easier to say no when I'm really not feeling up to the challenge and believing that, in the end, things will be fine.
Maybe... it's time to just LET GO!
25.8.10
Desperately Seeking...
Here's a plea to all you genealogy people out there! I know there's a lot of you. Don't try to hide it *wink*. I've been on a task which has been proving to be difficult! So, your expertise would be greatly appreciated. Would anyone out there know a sure fire way of tracking down a lost relative? All I've got to go on is a name and a general time period that he served here on Guam.
I'm telling you, if you give me anything else to search for, I can find it. Easy as pie! But, this time around, it's not so. Maybe it's because I'm trying harder than I usually do. Heck! Maybe I'm not trying hard enough. But, until I've exhausted all the resources out there, I suppose I will have to keep searching!
If, in the end, we are not successful in finding him, then we will have to see it as fate... The Will of God. There would have to be a reason as to why we're not able to accomplish this, correct? But, until the end of this journey, I shall remain optimistic. I will keep my head held high. I will trust in the Lord.
Please pray for us. Thank you!
11.8.10
Thank You...
In my life, there are so many things for which I am thankful. Yet, there are days when I question. When I can't bring myself to be thankful. Days where I feel like I'm alone in the world. On those days, God chooses to throw these gifts in my face. As if to say, 'My Daughter, how can you forget?'.
While I was in Japan, I was blessed to have attended mass in the Cathedral in Sapporo. In the homily given that day, we were given a task. We were told to call our parents, to thank them for the gift of baptism. As a baby, we did not make the choice to become Catholic. We did not answer to the questions that the priest asked. Growing up, we all feel like church is somewhat of a chore. It was something our parents made us do. If we didn't go to church, we wouldn't be allowed to play or to watch TV for the day. Unless we were sick. We never viewed it as the gift that it was... it is! The priest told us, 'Your parents may think you are drunk. But, just do it.'.
That night, after more than our fair share of alcohol, we were sitting at our last restaurant of the evening. We were talking about the events of the day. We'd started with breakfast then mass, shopping and lunch, more shopping and wandering the streets of a town two of us had never visited before. We decided, 'Hey! Let's call home and thank our parents for the gift of baptism!'. So, in a drunken stupor, we each made the phone calls. When it came to my turn, I mustered up the most sober voice I could manage and I thanked my mother for having me baptized in the catholic faith. She probably thought that I had gone completely mad. At the time, I thought I was completely mad!
Looking back at it, it was the most sane thing I could have done. You see, it is my faith that keeps me going. It is my faith that pulls me out of pits so deep and stuffy that I feel like I might drown. It is my Catholic faith that gives me the courage to face each day. To thank my parents for the gift of baptism and the grace of being raised in the church was important. My Catholic upbringing is what makes me the person I am today. This gift is the most precious gift that they could have ever given me and it is the only gift I should have ever wanted.
I am not saying that I grew up in the easiest way I could have. But, it was the best way for me. Any Catholic would tell you that being in the faith is not all rainbows and butterflies! Many times, as an active Catholic, we are judged or mocked. Other people do not understand how we could believe what we do. Many people laugh that we pray to a man no one has ever seen. But, I tell you, this Man... He manifests himself in so many events, so many people. He is the most concrete man I can think of at the moment!
Often times, my faith is tested. Many times, I falter. I stumble. Many times, I fall. But, each time, someone is there to catch me. In these people, I see the love of God. I see the heart of Christ. I see the firm hand of a Father who will never let me down. A love so deep it can not be snuffed out.
So, again, to my parents, thank you for the gift of baptizing me and raising me as a Catholic. I will try to do it justice. I will always remember that it is only through the grace of God that I am.
While I was in Japan, I was blessed to have attended mass in the Cathedral in Sapporo. In the homily given that day, we were given a task. We were told to call our parents, to thank them for the gift of baptism. As a baby, we did not make the choice to become Catholic. We did not answer to the questions that the priest asked. Growing up, we all feel like church is somewhat of a chore. It was something our parents made us do. If we didn't go to church, we wouldn't be allowed to play or to watch TV for the day. Unless we were sick. We never viewed it as the gift that it was... it is! The priest told us, 'Your parents may think you are drunk. But, just do it.'.
That night, after more than our fair share of alcohol, we were sitting at our last restaurant of the evening. We were talking about the events of the day. We'd started with breakfast then mass, shopping and lunch, more shopping and wandering the streets of a town two of us had never visited before. We decided, 'Hey! Let's call home and thank our parents for the gift of baptism!'. So, in a drunken stupor, we each made the phone calls. When it came to my turn, I mustered up the most sober voice I could manage and I thanked my mother for having me baptized in the catholic faith. She probably thought that I had gone completely mad. At the time, I thought I was completely mad!
Looking back at it, it was the most sane thing I could have done. You see, it is my faith that keeps me going. It is my faith that pulls me out of pits so deep and stuffy that I feel like I might drown. It is my Catholic faith that gives me the courage to face each day. To thank my parents for the gift of baptism and the grace of being raised in the church was important. My Catholic upbringing is what makes me the person I am today. This gift is the most precious gift that they could have ever given me and it is the only gift I should have ever wanted.
I am not saying that I grew up in the easiest way I could have. But, it was the best way for me. Any Catholic would tell you that being in the faith is not all rainbows and butterflies! Many times, as an active Catholic, we are judged or mocked. Other people do not understand how we could believe what we do. Many people laugh that we pray to a man no one has ever seen. But, I tell you, this Man... He manifests himself in so many events, so many people. He is the most concrete man I can think of at the moment!
Often times, my faith is tested. Many times, I falter. I stumble. Many times, I fall. But, each time, someone is there to catch me. In these people, I see the love of God. I see the heart of Christ. I see the firm hand of a Father who will never let me down. A love so deep it can not be snuffed out.
So, again, to my parents, thank you for the gift of baptizing me and raising me as a Catholic. I will try to do it justice. I will always remember that it is only through the grace of God that I am.
27.7.10
Confusion...
It is written in scripture:
"And I tell you, ask and you will receive;
seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be opened to you.
For everyone who asks, receives;
and the one who seeks, finds;
and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
What father among you would hand his son a snake
when he asks for a fish?
Or hand him a scorpion when he asks for an egg?
If you then, who are wicked,
know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more will the Father in heaven
give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?"
(Lk 11:9-13)
I will probably be ridiculed and mocked for this post. But, I shall chance it to get some things off of my chest. You may think me a fool, if you wish. But, know this, I am not ashamed of who I am or of what I believe. That, by far, is the only thing of which I am sure.
Lately, I've been feeling confused. Confused about the situation at home. Confused about the choices I have to make when faced with choosing between family and God, friends and God. About things concerning continuing my walk with my community. About the men that are placed in my life and the situations I encounter through them. Most of all, lately, I've been tremendously confused with my vocation.
There are times when I know exactly what I want in my life. No, I take that back, I always know what I want. I want a family. I want to be a wife to a husband. I want to be a mother of a healthy brood of children. I want success and happiness. I am not jaded in believing that marriage comes without difficulties. I know that there are trials on that journey. There are trials on all paths. But, I look at my parents, I look at the mission families and I want that bond with a man that I love. I want to be able to choose to die to my husband. To die for my children. But, what I want and what He wants are not necessarily the same thing.
I feel like I've been asking and not receiving. I've been desperately grasping in the dark and coming up empty handed. I have been knocking and no one has opened the door to this stranger. You see, I've been praying, harder and harder, it seems, for a long time. I've been asking God to just make it known to me what he wants me to do with my life. I've been asking for a sign, a map to show me the path that I am to travel. I've been pounding at the door to ask Him, face to face, what he wants of me. But, I've been feeling like I'm left here, in this cistern, drowning and gasping for air.
Yesterday, I had the opportunity to attend the funeral of a Carmelite nun. I kept thinking about the monastery we visited in Australia. About how happy those nuns were. How beautiful they were. They had this glow to them that I had never seen on the face of anyone I'd ever met. The closest comparison would be to a blushing bride or a new mother holding a swaddled new born infant in her arms and knowing that this child was of her flesh and that of the man she loved. I looked at those nuns yesterday and I saw exactly the same look of those in Australia. They had this beauty in them and a light in their eyes for which I longed. I looked at them and saw that they were not what most men in today's world would deem attractive. But, to me, they were absolutely stunning. The most beautiful women on which I had ever laid eyes.
Yesterday, I heard the faint whisper of Christ in my heart. For the first time in a very long time, I thought that maybe, just maybe, this was my calling. Then, the temptations of the world came tumbling in on me. The desire of a family. The potential pain of leaving my family again. The realization that, if this is the path for me, I would have to give up the things of the world to which I have grown an attachment.
So, maybe I have been asking and God has been giving the answers to me all along. Maybe I have been seeking and He has been laying the pearl in front of me. Maybe it is my heart on which He has been knocking and my ears have been shut to the sounds of the pounding. I just don't know...
"And I tell you, ask and you will receive;
seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be opened to you.
For everyone who asks, receives;
and the one who seeks, finds;
and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
What father among you would hand his son a snake
when he asks for a fish?
Or hand him a scorpion when he asks for an egg?
If you then, who are wicked,
know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more will the Father in heaven
give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?"
(Lk 11:9-13)
I will probably be ridiculed and mocked for this post. But, I shall chance it to get some things off of my chest. You may think me a fool, if you wish. But, know this, I am not ashamed of who I am or of what I believe. That, by far, is the only thing of which I am sure.
Lately, I've been feeling confused. Confused about the situation at home. Confused about the choices I have to make when faced with choosing between family and God, friends and God. About things concerning continuing my walk with my community. About the men that are placed in my life and the situations I encounter through them. Most of all, lately, I've been tremendously confused with my vocation.
There are times when I know exactly what I want in my life. No, I take that back, I always know what I want. I want a family. I want to be a wife to a husband. I want to be a mother of a healthy brood of children. I want success and happiness. I am not jaded in believing that marriage comes without difficulties. I know that there are trials on that journey. There are trials on all paths. But, I look at my parents, I look at the mission families and I want that bond with a man that I love. I want to be able to choose to die to my husband. To die for my children. But, what I want and what He wants are not necessarily the same thing.
I feel like I've been asking and not receiving. I've been desperately grasping in the dark and coming up empty handed. I have been knocking and no one has opened the door to this stranger. You see, I've been praying, harder and harder, it seems, for a long time. I've been asking God to just make it known to me what he wants me to do with my life. I've been asking for a sign, a map to show me the path that I am to travel. I've been pounding at the door to ask Him, face to face, what he wants of me. But, I've been feeling like I'm left here, in this cistern, drowning and gasping for air.
Yesterday, I had the opportunity to attend the funeral of a Carmelite nun. I kept thinking about the monastery we visited in Australia. About how happy those nuns were. How beautiful they were. They had this glow to them that I had never seen on the face of anyone I'd ever met. The closest comparison would be to a blushing bride or a new mother holding a swaddled new born infant in her arms and knowing that this child was of her flesh and that of the man she loved. I looked at those nuns yesterday and I saw exactly the same look of those in Australia. They had this beauty in them and a light in their eyes for which I longed. I looked at them and saw that they were not what most men in today's world would deem attractive. But, to me, they were absolutely stunning. The most beautiful women on which I had ever laid eyes.
Yesterday, I heard the faint whisper of Christ in my heart. For the first time in a very long time, I thought that maybe, just maybe, this was my calling. Then, the temptations of the world came tumbling in on me. The desire of a family. The potential pain of leaving my family again. The realization that, if this is the path for me, I would have to give up the things of the world to which I have grown an attachment.
So, maybe I have been asking and God has been giving the answers to me all along. Maybe I have been seeking and He has been laying the pearl in front of me. Maybe it is my heart on which He has been knocking and my ears have been shut to the sounds of the pounding. I just don't know...
22.7.10
Liberation
Yesterday, the island of Guam celebrated 66 years of what we refer to as 'Liberation'. From dawn until right before midnight, there were people celebrating on the streets or in their homes. But, not all were celebrating for the same reasons.
Liberation Day, to my grandparents' generation, was a day we celebrated freedom from the oppressors. In our case, from the Japanese during World War II. We look back at the suffering that they endured. The torture they were put through. The pain and the loss of innocence through the experiences that can only come from living through a war. We look at all of these things and we take in to consideration how they must have felt through the years.
To go through the pain of watching people you love executed right before your eyes. To hear the screams of your child and not be able to get to him and give him the comfort of his mother's arms. To be the child and to see your father shot and your mother standing by, unable to explain what had just happened. It must have been confusing for the child, heartbreaking for the adult.
There are those amongst us who identify with our elders. We hear the stories and see the joy in their eyes as they remember the Americans flying overhead. We hear the relief in their voices as they speak of the Marines marching from their landing points on the beach. We imagine the great sense of gratitude that they must have felt toward these men, these strangers from a distant land to which most of them had never ventured.
I admire my elders for enduring such as they did and for not giving up hope. I hang my head in shame for those in my generation who do not respect the gratitude of our elders. We say things like 'Reoccupation Day' and we don't appreciate the benefits we have as American citizens. We say that the US has left us for dead and we refuse to see the suffering of our neighboring islands and be thankful for what we have. We scoff at the insignificance of being an unincorporated territory, all the while, standing in line to purchase two carts full of food with federal money.
Who are we to complain?
I know that there are some disadvantages to being a possession of the United States. We are seeing some of these today. But we need to find a middle ground. A common denominator. We need to understand the importance of compromising. We need to treat this like a marriage. A good marriage takes giving on both parts rather than just the receiving.
Don't get me wrong. I am not saying that we are to roll over and be submissive to everything that the federal government is proposing. But, we need to know when to set our foot down and when to give. We need to preserve our culture and our dignity while still acknowledging that the US government is not all evil. We need to respect the love and gratitude that our elders have towards these 'strangers' while still keeping our roots intact. We need to understand that we are not slaves and they are not the enemy.
Liberation Day, to my grandparents' generation, was a day we celebrated freedom from the oppressors. In our case, from the Japanese during World War II. We look back at the suffering that they endured. The torture they were put through. The pain and the loss of innocence through the experiences that can only come from living through a war. We look at all of these things and we take in to consideration how they must have felt through the years.
To go through the pain of watching people you love executed right before your eyes. To hear the screams of your child and not be able to get to him and give him the comfort of his mother's arms. To be the child and to see your father shot and your mother standing by, unable to explain what had just happened. It must have been confusing for the child, heartbreaking for the adult.
There are those amongst us who identify with our elders. We hear the stories and see the joy in their eyes as they remember the Americans flying overhead. We hear the relief in their voices as they speak of the Marines marching from their landing points on the beach. We imagine the great sense of gratitude that they must have felt toward these men, these strangers from a distant land to which most of them had never ventured.
I admire my elders for enduring such as they did and for not giving up hope. I hang my head in shame for those in my generation who do not respect the gratitude of our elders. We say things like 'Reoccupation Day' and we don't appreciate the benefits we have as American citizens. We say that the US has left us for dead and we refuse to see the suffering of our neighboring islands and be thankful for what we have. We scoff at the insignificance of being an unincorporated territory, all the while, standing in line to purchase two carts full of food with federal money.
Who are we to complain?
I know that there are some disadvantages to being a possession of the United States. We are seeing some of these today. But we need to find a middle ground. A common denominator. We need to understand the importance of compromising. We need to treat this like a marriage. A good marriage takes giving on both parts rather than just the receiving.
Don't get me wrong. I am not saying that we are to roll over and be submissive to everything that the federal government is proposing. But, we need to know when to set our foot down and when to give. We need to preserve our culture and our dignity while still acknowledging that the US government is not all evil. We need to respect the love and gratitude that our elders have towards these 'strangers' while still keeping our roots intact. We need to understand that we are not slaves and they are not the enemy.
6.7.10
June Bug
I've learned a couple of things about myself in the past month. It's amazing what a little time to yourself does! There's been epiphanies, realizations... Laughter, tears, joy, loneliness, elation... It's just been a crazy roller coaster ride. But, this one was different from the ones that I'd experienced in the the past couple of years. This roller coaster ride made me want to buckle in and hold on tight.
While it may be a bumpy ride, I want to stick it out until the end. To feel the wind rushing through my hair. To feel my heart pounding to break free from it's cage within my chest. My hands grow slick with sweat from the fear of what comes next. I release my grip on the rail to wipe them on my jeans and grasp on again, hanging on for dear life. The next turn may hold something gruesome, maybe something beautiful. Who knows? But, I'm staying! I don't want off of this ride!
You see, when life is at it's lowest, it seems that it's the end of a long and bumpy road. But, something always happens to pull you up again. Just like on a roller coaster, the cart rushes down and slows and you think it's over but it only brings you to another steeper climb and an even bigger rush as you round another bend. There's always something bigger and better waiting for us.
Last month, I found myself spending some time with a group of friends for whom I never really made the time. In my quest to find happiness, to run from my reality, I never really thought I'd find it in them. I would always find an excuse to get away, to wallow in my self pity, to drink, have a good time and worry about it tomorrow. But, this group of friends is different. This group shows me my reality. They help me to face it and to carry my cross with joy. They never fail to teach me what it is to be a Christian. To be who I am and not to be comfortable with it but to make it better if I really feel that it needs to be better. They teach me not to be afraid of my faith. To walk in my faith and not worry about the persecution or the ridicule that I face with others.
I've seen that I take certain relationships for granted. Not only with friendships but with family. It's not something that I'm proud of but it is something that I've realized. It's something that I need to work on improving in the coming weeks. I enjoy spending time with my family. They never cease to amaze me with the stories they can dig out from our past. I love them and without each and every one of them, I wouldn't have been formed in to the adult that I am today.
I have grown close to a new friend who has a way of dragging things out of me even when I don't think I want to talk. He takes my problems and helps me to see them as journeys to make life better for myself. This man has a way of speaking spiritually yet still seeming very casual but firm. This friendship has taken me to new territory. It has helped me to view him differently. I see him as a gift from God... Someone who will be there for me both spiritually and emotionally. Someone to confide in without the fear of broken trust. I just pray that I am granted the wisdom and strength to be as vigilant as I need to be.
It has been a great month! June... the beginning of one crazy yet beautiful summer! New beginnings, new hope, new friendships, new goals. July is going to be wonderful! I mean... GEEZ!! It has to be with the World Cup finals in less than a week! VIVA ESPANA!!!
While it may be a bumpy ride, I want to stick it out until the end. To feel the wind rushing through my hair. To feel my heart pounding to break free from it's cage within my chest. My hands grow slick with sweat from the fear of what comes next. I release my grip on the rail to wipe them on my jeans and grasp on again, hanging on for dear life. The next turn may hold something gruesome, maybe something beautiful. Who knows? But, I'm staying! I don't want off of this ride!
You see, when life is at it's lowest, it seems that it's the end of a long and bumpy road. But, something always happens to pull you up again. Just like on a roller coaster, the cart rushes down and slows and you think it's over but it only brings you to another steeper climb and an even bigger rush as you round another bend. There's always something bigger and better waiting for us.
Last month, I found myself spending some time with a group of friends for whom I never really made the time. In my quest to find happiness, to run from my reality, I never really thought I'd find it in them. I would always find an excuse to get away, to wallow in my self pity, to drink, have a good time and worry about it tomorrow. But, this group of friends is different. This group shows me my reality. They help me to face it and to carry my cross with joy. They never fail to teach me what it is to be a Christian. To be who I am and not to be comfortable with it but to make it better if I really feel that it needs to be better. They teach me not to be afraid of my faith. To walk in my faith and not worry about the persecution or the ridicule that I face with others.
I've seen that I take certain relationships for granted. Not only with friendships but with family. It's not something that I'm proud of but it is something that I've realized. It's something that I need to work on improving in the coming weeks. I enjoy spending time with my family. They never cease to amaze me with the stories they can dig out from our past. I love them and without each and every one of them, I wouldn't have been formed in to the adult that I am today.
I have grown close to a new friend who has a way of dragging things out of me even when I don't think I want to talk. He takes my problems and helps me to see them as journeys to make life better for myself. This man has a way of speaking spiritually yet still seeming very casual but firm. This friendship has taken me to new territory. It has helped me to view him differently. I see him as a gift from God... Someone who will be there for me both spiritually and emotionally. Someone to confide in without the fear of broken trust. I just pray that I am granted the wisdom and strength to be as vigilant as I need to be.
It has been a great month! June... the beginning of one crazy yet beautiful summer! New beginnings, new hope, new friendships, new goals. July is going to be wonderful! I mean... GEEZ!! It has to be with the World Cup finals in less than a week! VIVA ESPANA!!!
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