I don't know why but I look forward to the Christmas season (basically December and New Years) so much more now than I ever did when I was a child. And it really has NOTHING to do with celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ (I know that sounds bad, but I celebrate that every day of my life, not just on Christmas). Furthermore, it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with being around people I love. For instance, last year I spent my first "alone" Christmas. My family was in the Philippines and though I spent the evening with Alana's family, I spent most of the day by myself, and I LOVED it. It was one of the most relaxing days I could recall. I had cleaned up the entire apartment, and on Christmas morning I woke up, made myself some Dunkin' Donuts coffee, opened the gift Ryan's family had left for me, sat back on the couch, and watched "A Christmas Carol" (cartoon) on YouTube on the livingroom computer screen. I even took pictures 'coz I wanted to remember that relaxing moment. Maybe it's being able to sip on hot coffee or hot chocolate in the midst of the coldness outside. Maybe it's the colors of white, red, and green that remind me of so many happy Christmas seasons during my childhood, or the nostalgia of movies like Home Alone or TV shows like Peanuts or even The Twilight Zone. Or maybe it's the extra lights that shine at night on houses and in the streets. Maybe it's the cold itself outside, the visible air I blow out because of it, and the warmth my sweater, scarf, and whatever fancy jacket I happen to be wearing gives me (I love jackets- if I were rich, they would be my "thing"). It's DEFINITELY the snow (though it's a pain driving through and digging your car out of- but hey, it's part of the seasonal experience). It's DEFINITELY the music- heck, I pretty much never stop listening to Christmas music all year long because it reminds me of that time of year and it makes me feel... good. Maybe it's knowing that I'm NOT the only one who feels a little more care-free, shoot, maybe even LAZIER than usual. Or knowing that on Christmas day, most everybody else won't be doing a darn thing, and I don't need to feel guilty for taking that day off either. Maybe it's the fact that people are generally much nicer during that time of the year. It's a wonderful, catchy, contagious spirit. I understand that the evil and suffering in the world does not cease to exist, and that not everyone loves Christmas time. The problems I am going through myself will continue, but this is how I feel about the season, and I don't think it's a crime for me to feel this way and to love it personally. This year, I'll actually be in the Philippines for a little bit (which is awesome), but I still look forward to the Christmas season nonetheless. It makes me happy.

When I was a kid, I used to love to draw. It came from my father. My dad taught us this pretty cool technique for copying a drawing: Draw grids on the picture, then draw grids on a blank sheet of paper, and finally, copy each little square box one at a time (all using a mechanical pencil). It's like taking a task that looks huge and impossible and breaking it down to smaller, less-intimidating tasks, and once you put it all together, you get the thing done. After we finished copying each box, we'd take a black ink pen and retrace the main parts of the picture, and then use an eraser to get rid of the penciled parts & box grids. It was such a great technique, and once we were done, we were free to color it, 'coz that was the easy part (but fun!). I would do this especially any time I had to do a book report for school. I'd always have a front cover to my report (though it was never required), and it would be a drawing I did of the book's cover. Or sometimes, I'd just ask my dad to draw it, and he never needed to use grids- his drawings were amazingly perfect (of course, he left the coloring to me).

I used to love copying pictures from comic books too, and for some reason I liked drawing maps (I even won a map drawing contest at school one time, drawing a map of New Jersey, earning me a nice framed certificate and an opportunity to meet and shake hands with the then mayor Bret Schundler). At school, my older brother Ryan was known for being an artist, and when I got a bit older, our art teacher, Ms. Ongaro, saw the same talent in me. She gave me the nickname "The Architect." My favorite tools to use were oil pastels. I once drew a very impressive rendition (if I may say so myself) of "John on Patmos." I remember having all my oiled pastels sprawled all over the table, and ripped up pieces of paper towels which I used to blend the colors together on the poster paper. I used oiled pastels too when I had this kite project, where we had to make a kite that somehow related to a book we read. The book I had chosen was one of my favorite books, but for the life of me I can't seem to recall the title or the author. But anyway, I drew the cover on some brown paper that I placed above the skeleton of a kite I bought. The kite looked like a really cool glider, and the drawing I had done looked great. My kite didn't fly nearly as well as anybody else's- in fact, it was probably the worst- but my teacher gave me first place because of how nice it looked. And man, I used to love going to Rag Shop with my mom to buy art supplies: pastels, poster paper, stuff for school projects, colored pencils, any and everything.

One particular piece I made during one of our sessions with Ms. Ongaro (we were part of a special group that had extra art time privileges since we were deemed to be more gifted in this area- I can't remember the name of our group though either [EDIT: ATC!! Artistically Talented Class! Thanks Ray!]) was a mini oriental folding screen, with about 3 or 4 flaps. Onto it I painted the silhouette of a tree, bonsai tree style, all black as far as I can remember, with a bright gold background. It was simple but I thought it was one of the best things I had ever created. Ms. Ongaro had stored a lot of our work in a storage room at the basement of PS#27, and I once was in there (I don't remember what for) and I saw this particular screen painting I had done on a top shelf. I left it alone and sadly never got it back- it's probably been long gone, as many of my other works are. But those were fun and happy days for me. I look back on them with much fondness, and I thank God once again for the awesome childhood my mom and my dad provided for me. These things will never leave my heart.

[EDIT: I also remember that we used to have a set of encyclopedias, and I used to enjoy drawing ANIMALS, especially painting birds using water color paints! I used to love doing that! I also remember how fond I was of drawing the Batman symbol and Darkwing Duck!! LOL]

I walked out of the library at Seton Hall pretty calm, pretty cool. You could never tell just by looking at me that a monsoon was taking place in my head. I walked past a student: Think college is hard? Ya'll don't know what suffering really is yet. I immediately walk past a second student: Take it easy Ro, you don't know these people. They're human being, just like you. God, please bless him. Bipolar thoughts. Bipolar emotions. Bipolar faith. I'm calm. Went to cross the street towards the parking deck and instead of waiting for me to get to the other side, this car swerves around me while I was still crossing. Stopped and turned my head, but who am I gonna grill? Car sped away. Walking into the parking deck, a group of guys had been loitering by the stairs and were now walking away. As soon as I get to the stairs the air is THICK with the smell of Black & Milds. Now, I hate cigarette smoke with a passion- I tried breathing into my sleeve but nothing could really stop the aroma from entering into my lungs. I just walked up as fast as I can, and when I could finally take deep breaths of fresher air, I couldn't stop cursing. As my OCD self customarily does, I hack up spit and blow my nose, and this time blood came out of my nose. Great, do I have tissues? Looked all over the place, cursing the whole time, not remembering I had put a roll of tissue in my back seat. "Thank You Lord," as soon as I spot it. Damn hypocrite- you really think He just received that from you? Finally got in my car and drove out.

I want something pumpkin. Too late to get pumpkin coffee at Dunkin' Donuts, so let me stop by the supermarket and pick up some pumpkin pie. F the world, I don't care if it's gonna make me fat. I don't care if I gain weight and people judge me; I don't care if I can't breakdance as well as other people. I don't CARE. I'll do what I want. I'm buyin' this pumpkin pie. I drive into the parking lot, and I am pleasantly surprised to find that right next to the supermarket, there is a Dunkin' Donuts, a Chinese restaurant, AND a Subway open- all right next to Seton Hall! Cool God!! Oops, sorry God, You really don't wanna hear that kind of thing from me right now. I find a parking spot, get my pie, and pay at the register. $4 pie, but $5 minimum for card purchases. "Can you just add a dollar?" The cashier gives this look like it's gonna be a hassle, and I myself am thinking: Dude, a whole freaking dollar?! You wanna throw away a whole dollar, do you know what you can do with a dollar?!! I pull out my wallet just to see if I had enough singles and what do you know, 4 one dollar bills. Thank You Lord!! Ahem... got my pie, time to go home.

On my way home, my cell phone playlist was on shuffle, and Pastor Peter's message entitled "Life Interruptions" (week 1) comes on. These past couple of days, I've admittedly (and ashamedly) been skipping over any Christian music that randomly pops up from my playlist. I just don't wanna hear it. I know this, but it won't change anything. But when Peter's sermon came on, something (or should I say, Someone) inside of me said, "Ro, you better keep this on. You better listen man." So I proceed to listen, for like the 10th, 20th time ever. Needless to say, Peter (or should I say, God) woke me up again. I won't get into all the profound and powerful words I heard tonight, as if hearing them for the first time. But I wanted to mention a few things. There was a moment when Peter was talking about how far we've taken self-entitlement these days. We've gotten to a point where we FORGET (so easily might I add, and I speak from experience) that GOD is the only reason ANY good happens to us, and we neglect to thank Him for such things. Even the things we don't notice, the little things- and I got to thinking about all the crazy close calls I've had while driving, and yet am, to this day, still accident-free. That's God always keeping me safe and I'm so freaking ungrateful. And RIGHT AT THAT MOMENT, this big truck on my right hand side attempts to proceed through a stop sign even though I had the right of way (I had no stop sign on the four way). I honked my horn like a madman and swerved around him. It was close, and any of a number of things could have happened to cause an accident: the truck could have proceeded and not stopped, the truck could have decided to try to beat me and speed up, there could have been a car tailing me in the back, or there could have been a car coming towards me on the opposite side of the street- BUT GOD...

You got my attention now God. That could have ONLY been God just now. Whew, shake it off. I get onto the highway and check it out: another truck almost hits me!! This person decides to switch lanes with me still on their right side, sending me off onto the shoulder! I honk like a madder man 'coz this time I'm not just shocked, I'm pissed! He honks back, I'm not sure why, but it makes me even madder and I honk some more as I drive away, banging on my steering wheel each time. Said truck slows down and never catches up to me. And what is Peter talking about now? First of all, he had been talking about the RIGHT questions to ask during a life interruption: God, what do you want to do IN ME? Who do You want me to meet? (as opposed to asking: Why me? How long? etc. etc.) And then Peter, quoting what God MIGHT say, says: "...let's start right there, let's start with your ANGER issue... let's start here, how you HATE it when life doesn't go the way you want it to go, AND LET'S START HERE (!) (yes, he's shouting)- the fact that you give LIP service, Oh Lord, You're in control, YEAH RIGHT!... let's start with the fact that you THINK you've surrendered control of your life, but you haven't... and God might say, let's keep going, let's keep going- it's dangerous when you ask this question... why are you so angry, why are you so mad, why is it so INTENSE?? Is it because there's something in your life that you think you MUST have..? The foundation of your soul has been taken away. And you can't LIVE without it..."

Ouch. Think about it.. think about it. So I started thinking about it. They say you should never place all your hope and happiness onto ONE person (or thing). You'll set yourself up for ruin. But WHAT IF, YOU are the one on whom an entire person's life, hope, and happiness is being placed upon?! YOU are on the other side of the table, and YOU have to deal with and carry THAT burden. That WEIGHT. If I knew someone on that side, I'd tell them that it isn't fair, for them to carry that weight, and that they gotta let it go. They can't be responsible for another person's happiness... Ro, you ARE that "someone." And you know what it's turned you into? Think about it. Your anger is so intense because the thing in your life that you MUST have, that THING that you cannot live without, is the happiness of your parents. It's like one big, twisted circle. You say God is the center and foundation of your soul, but the moment the HAPPINESS of your parents is threatened, you buckle down bro. You can't take it. You get angry.

But do you know why I get angry? One of my brothers was built so that the suffering of my parents doesn't really affect him much, at least as far as I can tell. But me, I was built differently. Is that why they feel like they can do this to me? Consciously or not. How does one try their very best to do what's right, give of him or herself so selflessly, and still end up where I am? SO FREAKING SELFLESSLY. I have given blood, sweat, and tears for the people I love. The self-entitlement complex. You know what, I do feel like it's unfair that I've been placed in this situation. I see my parents suffering. I am seeing my fiancee suffer. I am suffering. But whether it's fair or not is not up to me. I was asking myself also, on my drive home: how the heck did you think you can pit yourself against GOD and survive?!! I've said this before and I'll say it again: I cannot claim to be more fair, more just, and more good that God. The fact is, I DON'T see God in my situation, and I won't front like I do. But Peter says I'm in good company, because David, Abraham, Joseph, and a bunch of other godly GIANTS of the Christian faith oftentimes did not see God in their situations either. But "everything God sends is necessary, and everything God withholds, is NOT necessary" = "God gives you what you would have asked for, if you knew what HE knew" = Romans 8:28.

I want to have the strength to change, but it's difficult because I feel like my weakness is born out of pure goodness. And love. But it's not healthy. But Lord, You placed me in this situation, and no matter how many times I play it over in my head, I don't see how I could have avoided getting stuck like this. No, I'm not blaming you, but... thoughts like this were racing through my mind as I continued to drive home, and at one point I just SCREAMED in my car. At the top of my lungs. TWICE. And almost immediately after, Pastor Peter screamed too- it was kind of funny and I just had to smile afterward. But now... I hear You gently telling me, that You DID place me in this situation, and that I am exactly where You want me to be. Where I need to be. I'm still very confused, still trying to sort things out in my head, and probably still very bipolar, but I think I'm starting to see a few things Lord. Father, thank You for tonight. Thank You for getting me home safely. Please forgive me for my anger, and the myriad of emotions that I continue to struggle with. Most of all, forgive me for my unbelief.

I'm there.

i was almost there. DAMN IT.

in my own world..

Confession: I am struggling with too much self-pity. I am struggling with anger. I am struggling with trusting God the way I ought to.

⁹ There he went into a cave and spent the night. And the word of the LORD came to him: "What are you doing here, Elijah?" ¹⁰ He replied, "I have been very zealous for the LORD God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too." ¹¹ The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. ¹² After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.