This post was written in November (which explains the first line), but for some reason I never hit the publish button.
Well, elections were two days ago, but as Abby's mother promised, "It'll be over soon. The election will be over soon." Cancel on promise. Me and Abby are still hearing about Bronco Bama and Mitt Romney. (Go here if you don't know what I'm referencing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjrthOPLAKM )
I'm hearing a lot about the "black vote," the "latino vote," and the "women's vote." The women's vote is particularly interesting because a lot of women stated that they voted for the president because they support women's rights, chiefly a woman's right to not have a baby. I mean, after all, men have that right, so why shouldn't we?
Please forgive my utter sarcasm and tone. You can probably guess which side of the pro-life/pro-choice chasm I am on. But this Bible-thumping gal just may surprise you. I am actually very much in favor of a woman's right to her own life.
The difference is that I also support the right of the woman that is in the womb.
....and I probably just lost 70% of you.
The majority of America seems to believe that a fetus is not a human and therefore does not have any rights. But, what I want to know is, when does that fetus become a human? Now, that question just may be too deep for this humble ole blog. So in order to tie this into a women's rights issue, the better question would be when does the fetus become a girl?
Because when I ask myself that question, the answer isn't so mirky. The fetus never becomes a girl, she is a girl from the second that egg is fertilized. And maybe if I didn't believe that, then I would be left to say that the fetus becomes a girl at around 9 weeks. Why? Well, here's your daily biology lesson. No worries; tuition's on me.
About 6 weeks after fertilization, the fetus (boy or girl) begins to develop an external genitalia. These are essentially developing the same until about 9 weeks. After this, the genitalia start to form differently depending on the sex, but generally the differences cannot be accurately seen until about 16-18 weeks on a sonogram. And this is typically when parents can discover the gender of their baby. At about 20 weeks, the external genitalia are fully formed.
Regardless of when you think a fetus becomes a girl, one has to agree that it is at the latest 16-18 weeks after conception (which is really 18-20 weeks pregnant). Here's the problem: abortion is legal in the state of Florida up to 22 weeks pregnant.
So, when I hear women talking about women's rights, I can't also help but think about the girls (and the boys) still growing in the womb and their rights.
I'm thankful that there even is a "women's vote" to talk about and how we women, at least according to the media hype, probably changed the outcome of the elections. I mean, less than 100 years ago (92 to be exact) we weren't even allowed to vote.
But the sad truth at hand is there are thousands of women-to-be, who will never get the chance to vote.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Yes, you there, in the back. You have a question?
Lately, I've been trying to muster up the courage to talk to people about Jesus and the gospel: go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation (Mark 16:15). My own thoughts begin to hinder me. You see, whenever I have to make a decision, my mind automatically then plays every possible scenario that could happen as a consequence of that decision. Not only that, my brain then tries to process the next 10 scenarios that could happen after that. Then I start to panic. On my own, I'm not very good at making decisions.
So, during a moment when I was trying to get the boldness to talk with someone, the scenario of, "What if they ask, '_______'? Then what do I say?" One question stuck with me.
Many people ask, "If God is a loving god, then how can He send good people to hell?" I was pondering this question the other day. I've heard the cliche answer. That our definition of good does not come close to God's goodness. That even our righteous acts are as filthy rags when compared to God. That all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. In other words, our "good" would never meet his standards. In His eyes, we're not seen as good and so in His eyes, good people actually don't go to hell because there is no one who is good without God (refer to Psalm 16:2).
The idea behind this argument is something I have to and do agree with. But it doesn't really address the implied issue behind the question. The above response really just addresses the fact that God is really and utterly perfect, like beyond-our-understanding perfect. But what people really want to know is, "Is God really loving?" And that's what I was chewing on.
Incredibly (I say incredibly because I'm really not that bright when it comes to the ways of God), I had a revelation. You see, I could reword the question to: If God is a loving god, how can someone who has told one lie deserve the same punishment as someone who has murdered thousands of people? It does seem a little lopsided doesn't it. But here's my revelation: God is so in tune with each and every hurt, betrayal, grief, regret, pain, fear, sadness of His children (that's you and me) and no matter how small or minor these hurts are, God takes it seriously and seeks out the ultimate justice and retribution against the perpetrator.
Here's the thing: every sin has a consequence. Telling one small lie can hurt someone's feelings and God takes this so seriously because He loves you so much, that He has to justify your hurt. He does not leave one broken heart, hurt feeling, broken pride, or shattered hope unturned. To Him, His child was wronged and because He is so in love with His child, someone needs to pay.
That punishment is death. We have all at some point in our life, whether intentional or not, wronged someone, or even ourselves. And God is not okay with that because He is so in love with us and never wants us wronged.
But check it. His love goes even further. He is SO in love with the perpetrators (us), that He was willing to take this death penalty upon Himself. God is a loving God because He died for all of us who deserved death. We don't have to face the pits of hell because Jesus already went there in our place -- IF we choose to accept His offer.
"If God is a loving god, how can He send good people to hell?" Here's my answer: yes.
Yes, He does love you.
So, during a moment when I was trying to get the boldness to talk with someone, the scenario of, "What if they ask, '_______'? Then what do I say?" One question stuck with me.
Many people ask, "If God is a loving god, then how can He send good people to hell?" I was pondering this question the other day. I've heard the cliche answer. That our definition of good does not come close to God's goodness. That even our righteous acts are as filthy rags when compared to God. That all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. In other words, our "good" would never meet his standards. In His eyes, we're not seen as good and so in His eyes, good people actually don't go to hell because there is no one who is good without God (refer to Psalm 16:2).
The idea behind this argument is something I have to and do agree with. But it doesn't really address the implied issue behind the question. The above response really just addresses the fact that God is really and utterly perfect, like beyond-our-understanding perfect. But what people really want to know is, "Is God really loving?" And that's what I was chewing on.
Incredibly (I say incredibly because I'm really not that bright when it comes to the ways of God), I had a revelation. You see, I could reword the question to: If God is a loving god, how can someone who has told one lie deserve the same punishment as someone who has murdered thousands of people? It does seem a little lopsided doesn't it. But here's my revelation: God is so in tune with each and every hurt, betrayal, grief, regret, pain, fear, sadness of His children (that's you and me) and no matter how small or minor these hurts are, God takes it seriously and seeks out the ultimate justice and retribution against the perpetrator.
Here's the thing: every sin has a consequence. Telling one small lie can hurt someone's feelings and God takes this so seriously because He loves you so much, that He has to justify your hurt. He does not leave one broken heart, hurt feeling, broken pride, or shattered hope unturned. To Him, His child was wronged and because He is so in love with His child, someone needs to pay.
That punishment is death. We have all at some point in our life, whether intentional or not, wronged someone, or even ourselves. And God is not okay with that because He is so in love with us and never wants us wronged.
But check it. His love goes even further. He is SO in love with the perpetrators (us), that He was willing to take this death penalty upon Himself. God is a loving God because He died for all of us who deserved death. We don't have to face the pits of hell because Jesus already went there in our place -- IF we choose to accept His offer.
"If God is a loving god, how can He send good people to hell?" Here's my answer: yes.
Yes, He does love you.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Disclaimer
It is my hope that at this URL you will find subsequent posts on my thoughts and opinions about everything from the Apple phenomenon to where do I go when I die? But before I begin to expound on these topics, I want to make a disclaimer so that no reader is deceived or disappointed. I deny that I am a know-it-all and submit to you who I am so that you can better understand my point of view and my limitations.
I am a Christian. Five hundred different ideas about me just popped into your head. But, what I hope you come to realize is being a Christian simply means this: I admit that I am messed up and need someone to save me from my junk and that savior is Jesus. "I am so bad that Jesus had to die for me. But I am so loved, that He was glad to die for me." Being a Christian means that I allow God to permeate, infiltrate, and dominate every aspect of my life, including my views expressed in this blog. However, that does not mean that everything I say is God-breathed and that does not mean that my words are exempt from human error or selfish ambition.
I am married without kids to a serving, loving, and admirable man. If I ever were to write about parenting, I acknowledge that I am doing so without prior knowledge of parenting first-hand. I am a product of parenting, though, and pretty good parenting at that.
I am a biracial woman. Now that probably brought on just as many preconceived notions as when you learned I am a Christian. I am Filipino-Caucasian. Some of you will think that's not biracial. But growing up biracial and bicultural really shaped who I am and therefore a lot of my views. At the same time, I am not trying to represent the Filipino race or the white race. I'm just representing me.
I have chosen to block comments on my blog. Here's why: I never asked you to read my blog. However, somehow you came across this blog and you yourself decided to keep reading (I hope that you find it enjoyable and continue to do so). With the same respect, I don't want to read anything that I didn't choose to read myself. If someone were to comment on my blog, I am subject to your point of view when I never asked for it. But here's the real why: I think part (okay, most) of me is just too weak and insecure at this point in time to be able to handle comments (negative or positive) to my writings. Maybe one day I will get there.
Sometimes I think I'm funny, which translates to: sometimes you will roll your eyes and think, "This girl is lame."
Now, as you read my blog, other blogs and even befriend other people, keep in mind your own disclaimer, your own list of "I am"s and how that affects everything you say, do, and listen. My hope is that as a consequence of my humble blog people draw closer to our Creator and God gets a round of applause, because He is "I am" and, well, He doesn't need a disclaimer.
I am a Christian. Five hundred different ideas about me just popped into your head. But, what I hope you come to realize is being a Christian simply means this: I admit that I am messed up and need someone to save me from my junk and that savior is Jesus. "I am so bad that Jesus had to die for me. But I am so loved, that He was glad to die for me." Being a Christian means that I allow God to permeate, infiltrate, and dominate every aspect of my life, including my views expressed in this blog. However, that does not mean that everything I say is God-breathed and that does not mean that my words are exempt from human error or selfish ambition.
I am married without kids to a serving, loving, and admirable man. If I ever were to write about parenting, I acknowledge that I am doing so without prior knowledge of parenting first-hand. I am a product of parenting, though, and pretty good parenting at that.
I am a biracial woman. Now that probably brought on just as many preconceived notions as when you learned I am a Christian. I am Filipino-Caucasian. Some of you will think that's not biracial. But growing up biracial and bicultural really shaped who I am and therefore a lot of my views. At the same time, I am not trying to represent the Filipino race or the white race. I'm just representing me.
I have chosen to block comments on my blog. Here's why: I never asked you to read my blog. However, somehow you came across this blog and you yourself decided to keep reading (I hope that you find it enjoyable and continue to do so). With the same respect, I don't want to read anything that I didn't choose to read myself. If someone were to comment on my blog, I am subject to your point of view when I never asked for it. But here's the real why: I think part (okay, most) of me is just too weak and insecure at this point in time to be able to handle comments (negative or positive) to my writings. Maybe one day I will get there.
Sometimes I think I'm funny, which translates to: sometimes you will roll your eyes and think, "This girl is lame."
Now, as you read my blog, other blogs and even befriend other people, keep in mind your own disclaimer, your own list of "I am"s and how that affects everything you say, do, and listen. My hope is that as a consequence of my humble blog people draw closer to our Creator and God gets a round of applause, because He is "I am" and, well, He doesn't need a disclaimer.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Blogging.
Though I do not live far away in some developing country, doing adventurous things, experiencing exciting things and enduring hard things, I shouldn't think that would disqualify me from keeping a blog. Adventurous, exciting, and hard things are no stranger to me. So, here I am writing into the oblivion of the internet.
Mainly, I am writing because I've had too much caffeine and cannot sleep. It doesn't help that my husband, for the last 2 and half weeks and counting, is sleeping 3000 miles away. I also have some ridiculous fantasy, I guess you could say, that somehow my blog will turn into something "big," and be read by thousands, even millions, because clearly what I have to say is so important and interesting. Not only that I am the world's greatest articulator. I mean I won the writer's award in 6th grade.
But also at the same time, I see that blogging takes quite a bit of time if one were to wish it to rise in popularity. Potentially, though, I may have that sort of time. I'm finishing school and moving back to Florida where my husband has just started medical school. I am nervous at how much his time will be taken up by this endeavor, but at the same time, I can't stop bragging and couldn't be more impressed by him. I am fortunate enough to have a job once I get there. But that is only 40 hours of my week and sometimes it's hard to know what to with the rest of my time without my partner in crime (also an aspiring rap-star, here). As is evident now.
Time has always been something that has intrigued me, actually. Though only 25, I feel like I have such an amazing perspective on life. What 7, 13, 25, 45, or 60 year old doesn't? But seriously, the seasons of my life are growing, and sometimes it's hard to believe that I have gone through all of them. And that there will lots and lots more seasons to come. I sometimes get angry with time because it never does what I want it to do. There are instances when I wish it would just stop, at least be kind enough to slow down, so that I can enjoy such perfect moments. There are other instances where I demand it to get it's lazy butt off the couch and hurry up. Like now. Time is kind of a blob and I wish the next 3 weeks would go by quickly so I can be reunited with my husband again. But I've been here before. Time faithfully gets off its butt and at the same pace it always does, it gets going. And once it's where I wanted it to go, I'm left wishing that it hadn't done it so quickly. I wish that time would've lingered a little longer so I could've spent more time appreciating my supervisors and colleagues here and taking the amazing beauty that is Oregon. I guess time never does what we want it to do because we don't really know what we want it to do.
I am realizing that I need to work on my vocabulary if I wish to become any kind of "good" writer.
So, here's to sleep. I'm not sure that blogging has made me any closer to that state. My husband took nearly all of our furniture when he moved to Florida. A choice of a couch or air mattress, coupled with caffeine in my veins, makes sleep objectionable (used the thesaurus for that one -- should've paid more attention when I studied for the GRE).
Since my husband's departure I've been bewitched by the Walker family (Brothers & Sisters series) and by the altered story of Dinah (The Red Tent book). It seems I've resigned that time will not speed up nor slow down for me. So, I've made adjustments and have learned to pass time by passively participating in other lives, though fictional and intangible.
I don't really know what I want this blog to be -- a simple "journal" of my life's events or a listing of the rambling thoughts and ideas that go through my head. Clearly, I've made a step towards the latter. But, just like I have idea what I want time to do, I have no idea what I want this to be. But, in the end, everything happens and turns out precisely how it was supposed to.
PS. Ending sentences in a preposition: is it still technically wrong? Everybody does it these days, which totally negates previous rulings.
PPS. I wish the tone in which I said my initial PS could be heard.
PPPS. So many thoughts that I want to quickly scribble. But time, though not obliging to our demands, is dependable. Morning will come. And night will also come again, perhaps lending to more blogs. Til then.
Mainly, I am writing because I've had too much caffeine and cannot sleep. It doesn't help that my husband, for the last 2 and half weeks and counting, is sleeping 3000 miles away. I also have some ridiculous fantasy, I guess you could say, that somehow my blog will turn into something "big," and be read by thousands, even millions, because clearly what I have to say is so important and interesting. Not only that I am the world's greatest articulator. I mean I won the writer's award in 6th grade.
But also at the same time, I see that blogging takes quite a bit of time if one were to wish it to rise in popularity. Potentially, though, I may have that sort of time. I'm finishing school and moving back to Florida where my husband has just started medical school. I am nervous at how much his time will be taken up by this endeavor, but at the same time, I can't stop bragging and couldn't be more impressed by him. I am fortunate enough to have a job once I get there. But that is only 40 hours of my week and sometimes it's hard to know what to with the rest of my time without my partner in crime (also an aspiring rap-star, here). As is evident now.
Time has always been something that has intrigued me, actually. Though only 25, I feel like I have such an amazing perspective on life. What 7, 13, 25, 45, or 60 year old doesn't? But seriously, the seasons of my life are growing, and sometimes it's hard to believe that I have gone through all of them. And that there will lots and lots more seasons to come. I sometimes get angry with time because it never does what I want it to do. There are instances when I wish it would just stop, at least be kind enough to slow down, so that I can enjoy such perfect moments. There are other instances where I demand it to get it's lazy butt off the couch and hurry up. Like now. Time is kind of a blob and I wish the next 3 weeks would go by quickly so I can be reunited with my husband again. But I've been here before. Time faithfully gets off its butt and at the same pace it always does, it gets going. And once it's where I wanted it to go, I'm left wishing that it hadn't done it so quickly. I wish that time would've lingered a little longer so I could've spent more time appreciating my supervisors and colleagues here and taking the amazing beauty that is Oregon. I guess time never does what we want it to do because we don't really know what we want it to do.
I am realizing that I need to work on my vocabulary if I wish to become any kind of "good" writer.
So, here's to sleep. I'm not sure that blogging has made me any closer to that state. My husband took nearly all of our furniture when he moved to Florida. A choice of a couch or air mattress, coupled with caffeine in my veins, makes sleep objectionable (used the thesaurus for that one -- should've paid more attention when I studied for the GRE).
Since my husband's departure I've been bewitched by the Walker family (Brothers & Sisters series) and by the altered story of Dinah (The Red Tent book). It seems I've resigned that time will not speed up nor slow down for me. So, I've made adjustments and have learned to pass time by passively participating in other lives, though fictional and intangible.
I don't really know what I want this blog to be -- a simple "journal" of my life's events or a listing of the rambling thoughts and ideas that go through my head. Clearly, I've made a step towards the latter. But, just like I have idea what I want time to do, I have no idea what I want this to be. But, in the end, everything happens and turns out precisely how it was supposed to.
PS. Ending sentences in a preposition: is it still technically wrong? Everybody does it these days, which totally negates previous rulings.
PPS. I wish the tone in which I said my initial PS could be heard.
PPPS. So many thoughts that I want to quickly scribble. But time, though not obliging to our demands, is dependable. Morning will come. And night will also come again, perhaps lending to more blogs. Til then.
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