Spirit Week!!

Ahh! Today was good! I was at spirit week! (It's what my school does every year. We have a guest speaker that speaks to the entire high school. And then games. No classes! For a week!)
Anyway, Will Galkin a well known christian evangelist is here this year! He's a really good preacher! And funny!
Today he spoke on why we should remember our creator (Ecc 12:1) Which was really good.
And then his second message was on The New Man (Eph 4:17-32) That one was really good and convicting!!

I met some kids I know by sight today, and I had a blast. But it's so HOT!! And we have to wear BLACK shirts!! Someday, I'm going to do something to who every designed the dark shirts we wear every year!!! :)

Well, today was a good day. I'm looking forward to tomorrow!! I just hope I don't get hurt! There are some rough games.

Ok, I realize, I'm started to go off topic. I'm going to take my hot (not HOT :) body and clean up!! Then supper!!! YUM!

BYE!!

Guam Time

On the island of Guam, everything is laid back.
The phrase: You're never late till it's over. Is definitely true here!
We even have a name for this lateness: Guam time :)
(You arrive late at the party: Sorry, I was running on guam time! Everyone else: OH…)

Of course, while you enjoy not having to rush to most things, it can be frustrating if you're from the states and you're used to being places on time or early! Like you show up for music practice and no one shows up for half an hour!

So, if you come visit me on Guam. If I don't find you at the airport for a good 10 minutes, I'm probably running on guam time!!

Gotta go now. I'm late!…. Wait! I'm on GUAM TIME!

HOT!

Guam is so HOT!
Today, after church, I rode home with my brother in our 'boonie car' (aka: A Junkie :) And it was SO HOT. If there were anything made out of plastic in there, it would've be 're-shaped'! :)
But the weather changes so quickly! One minute, it's so hot, one feels one would melt. The next, it' s raining!!!

But, I love it here! I love my hot, humid, wet, wonderful island of Guam!!

Babysitting

I love babysitting! But sometimes it can be stressful!
Tonight, instead of 5 kids, I only have 3. But it seems that these three are harder to handle then all 5 at the same time!!

I love kids! They are truly gifts from God!

To Digress: I feel like I used a lot of '!' in this post!!

I don't know the point of this post. But hey, I'm allowed to make no sense. It's my blog!!
I'm tired. Tired because I didn't sleep, and because of the rain!!

Gotta go!

Strange....

I was just thinking....
In relation to my last post, one strange thing about me, that makes my SIBLINGS look at me funny. Is that I enjoy eating my chocolate with corn chips!
It's yummy!!!

So, if you have corn chips, and chocolate ice cream. Go try it out. Comment and let me know if you liked it!!!

(Hmm... I want some now!!! Adios!!)

I don't know

Ok, I have totally no idea what I'm going to say..... ok! I have one now...

The chip who lost it's purpose.
I feel sorry for any chip that comes my way at the dinner table. Esp when we eat soup! :) Because I totally take away it's purpose in life. Instead of using it to scoop up what I eat, I use my spoon, scoop the food on the chip, then eat it!!
I know, I'm weird!!!

Last night, I got the 'she's strange' look at drama. I came with my water bottle covered in a (clean!) sock that I had decorated with permanent markers. My friend looked at me funny.!!! :)

Aww well, I like who I am. So, anyone else can think what they'd like!! I'll live!!!

Ciao!

The Room

My Mom got this in an e-mail forward. It's very convicting. It came as part of a story, but I looked it up and found it was wrong.
It was supposed to have been written by a 17 yr old that died soon after writing it.
Actually, it was written by Joshua Harris, and can be found in his book 'I Kissed Dating Good-bye"
Here it is!

"The Room..."

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read 'Girls I have liked.' I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named 'Friends' was next to one marked 'Friends I have betrayed.' The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird 'Books I Have Read,' 'Lies I Have Told,' 'Comfort I have Given,' 'Jokes I Have Laughed at .' Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: 'Things I've yelled at my brothers.' Others I couldn't laugh at: 'Things I Have Done in My Anger', 'Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.' I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked 'TV Shows I have watched', I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked 'Lustful Thoughts,' I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.

I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me.. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!' In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards.. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it.. The title bore 'People I Have Shared the Gospel With.' The handle was brighter than those around it, seemed newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands, and I began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me..

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. 'No!' I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was 'No, no,' as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back.. He smiled a sad smile and began to s ign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.

He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, 'It is finished.' I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.