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My heart is so small. Why is it so hard for me to be loving?

1. Disneyland, Downtown Disney, or anything Disney. Everywhere you go, you will be sandwiched between couples in love. This, unless you are a robot, is not fun.
2. Movie theater. If you want to watch a movie by yourself, watch it at home in your room. Don’t come here to feel even more lonely as you will also be sandwiched between couples in love and/or annoying teenagers who think their conversations are muted for all other attendees in the audience.
3. Weddings. This is the main event for a couple in love. You better come as one of the groomsmen, with a thick crew of homies, or with a plus one of your own. Or people will just annoy you with questions on when your turn will be, and why you haven’t brought anyone with you! Just kidding, I lied. Even if you come with a plus one people will annoy you with questions on when your turn will be. Just don’t go to any weddings unless you have one of your own. (Just kidding. Maybe.)
4. Grad Nite. No one celebrates their own graduation by themselves. Even if this is possibly your last “grad nite” ever. Even if they’re giving away freebies at the event. Even if there is free food. Even if they gave away discounted grad packages. Dammit. Why didn’t anyone want to go with me today? Eff.
5. Paper Source (as I learned today), is not a place for a guy to go alone. This is like the closest an artistic, creative girl who makes nice crafty things as a hobby can get to heaven while still on earth. Plus, I don’t think they have male friendly air in their vents, because I think I held my breath the entire 2 minutes I was there to pick out my thank you cards and pay. Next time I’ll pay someone to go get it for me to save myself the trouble.

1. In my last year of junior high, a short time after I was saved, I attended my first Christian conference with my church youth group at the San Diego Convention Center called “Set Apart.” Delirious? led worship that weekend, and I still have the Deeper album sitting on my desk. I still remember the last night of worship, when they opened up with thick British accents saying, “We lahv you, Sandy Eggo!”
2. In my senior year of high school, I didn’t get into UCLA. I did, however, get in early to Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia. I went to visit during my spring break with my dad, and we ate some bomb soul food (even fried sushi rolls), but ultimately I came back scared to go so far away from my family and friends. I committed to UCSD, though I didn’t like it.
3. In my senior year of college, I went through a mini-crisis trying to discover what it meant to know what God’s good, and pleasing, will is, and what it meant to live according to it. And through that process, I came to realize that it wasn’t a matter of finding what God’s will for me in a specific career path was, but more of finding out what God’s will and desire for the world was, and then finding my place in His plan to love and save the world. I began to look for opportunities to stretch myself and to go see things that would make me uncomfortable, things that would break His heart, and prayed that He would allow my heart to be broken over the things that break His. Last week, I was accepted as a Teach for America Corps member, and though I applied late (and was told repeatedly that the probability of placement in California was close to zero), I’ve been assigned to teach in San Diego for the next two years.

Almost every big milestone in my life thus far has been tethered to San Diego. Over the years, I’ve fallen in and out of love with San Diego—but as I prayed for Him to align my heart with His, I find myself bound even more tightly to San Diego… what does this mean?

Lord, help me to love this city and its people!!

whatshouldwecallme:

To the one whose dreams have fallen all apart
All you’re left with is a tired and broken heart
I can tell by your eyes you think you’re on your own
But you’re not alone

Have you heard of the one who can calm the raging seas?
Give sight to the blind, pull the lame up to their feet
With a love so strong, He’ll never let you go
No, you’re not alone

You will be safe in His arms
You will be safe in His arms
The hands that hold the world are holding you now
This is the promise He made
He will be with you always
When everything is falling apart, you will be safe in His arms

Did you know that the voice that brings the dead to life
Is the very same voice that calls you now to rise
So hear him now, He’s calling you home
You will never be alone

These are the hands that built the mountain
Hands that calmed the sea
These are the arms that hold the heavens
They are holding you and me
These are the hands that healed the leper
Pulled the lame up to their feet
These are the arms that were nailed to a cross
To break our chains and set us free

Sometimes, my mind wanders and I think about what people will say about me after I die. Not that I live for what other people say about me, but I would like to know what people will say about what I lived for. When I die, will my eulogy speak of my life truthfully? Will I have lived truthfully enough, intentionally enough, that people were aware of my convictions, my beliefs, my vision, my goals?

My favorite president is Abraham Lincoln. My favorite line, from my favorite speech, is the closing remark from the Gettysburg Address. Lincoln ends with, “It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.”

One day I hope I will be remembered as a man who gave the last full measure of devotion to my life’s cause. That I gave my last full measure of devotion to the One who I was devoted to, served and loved Him with all my heart, mind, and soul. And that it is not left to question whether I could have done any more to devote myself to that cause for which I gave the last full measure of my devotion…

Every day since they’ve been married, my mom has helped my dad get dressed. My dad has zero fashion sense. He has no idea what goes well with what, but more importantly, he doesn’t really care.

All that really matters is this: Am I comfortable? If the answer to that question is yes, it really doesn’t matter what he’s wearing (or not wearing). This is why my dad is totally content with wearing cheesy, fobby, and neon shirts he gets as gifts from his Sunday school students, and why he still wears his Awana Commander t-shirt in Sunday service at church. And when we’re at home, a t-shirt and boxers is the absolute maximum. If he had it his way, he would wear a white undershirt and sweats everywhere else in public. 

This past Saturday, my mom took me shopping. We were picking out a few clothes for my birthday present, and my mom decided to give me some life advice. “You need to find a wife like me.” What do you mean? “You have absolutely no fashion sense. You’re just like your dad. You know he wakes me up every morning to ask what he should wear?” I honestly have no idea what goes well together. I tried putting together an outfit at J. Crew, and my mom cracked up because I had mixed clashing colors and designs (which looked totally cool and hipster, jussayin’). So she told me I just needed to find a girl with a killer fashion sense that loved me enough to help me pick out what to wear everyday. I could deal with that. But for now, I’ll stick with my Kirkland t-shirts and soccer pants.