against

A friend of mine made the observation this previous summer that for the majority of my (semi)adult life, I’ve been operating under the pretense of being independent and thus, comes the ease in disagreeing with my parents. Throughout all of highschool and most of college, I’ve learned that the fundamental thing that separates myself with my family, deeper than even the home and blood we share, is a faith in Jesus Christ that puts us in drastically separate places on the other side of death.

Because of this, I’ve ensued in a number of arguments, disagreements, fits, where my parents claim such things that I believe in are but a fads and phases… because of this, it is now that I have no problem disagreeing with them and standing up for what I believe in. My entire life has been a series of rebellious cases against them, though contradictory to the nominal definition of ‘rebellion.’

Though the ease does not come without heartache, nor the exasperation I feel whenever I hear them talk about how important a successful career, successful marriage, successful life, all are…

numbers

A few days ago, I had a somewhat memorable dream. I was sitting in an older, wood lodge cabin,… one of the ones you’d find at a ski lodge, with a huge fireplace. All around me were CCMC (now LWEC) college kids, asking how each other were, loving on one another, catching up, talking, laughing,… I was talking to someone new on the side, asking me what this community was like, and myself answering with a smile. It was home, I replied,.. what else could it be?

Then I got a phone call. “W… are you coming? We saved a seat for you.” I get a sudden glimpse (through my dream, go figure) of cornell. of my cornellian friends sitting at a large table, with one empty seat, with c.hung on the phone asking about where I was…

Then I woke up. feeling torn.. homesick.. lonely.

All this time,… I couldn’t, can’t let go of Chicago. Of the roads driven and places eaten and people prayed over, those who took the time to disciple and grow me, the time to talk to and teach and mold,… more often than not I’d feel, I do feel a void of that here.

Yet a couple of days ago at Mini-O’s, a brother of mine got hurt playing the snake game (think the cheap java game but with people). And as he was lying on the ground, blood gushing out of his left temple, and me and several alumni fumbling with first aid kits to bandage and clean,.. he says, “haha,… w, you know why I bought that first aid kit? it’s ’cause last year, you kept telling me to bring it,.. haha…”

And at that very moment, though I didn’t know it until today, that’s when our Father, my Father who had before only shown me family in suburbia illinois,… said this is your brother. He was suddenly the timmie’s, the tommy’s, the jon’s,..

And maybe it is because the junior class and I just spent the last.. almost 12 hours working on felly dinner food & presents in my dinky little apartment,… playing the pen game with toilets and aslan. But somehow, in the midst of the delirium,.. it’s there… You’re there…

edit: bandaged little bro & myself:

it doesn’t mean anything… does it?

More than a few months ago (maybe even a year ago), I made a post on a blog (similar to this one) about how Ohana means family, and family means noone gets left behind. I made a comparison to how the church is Family, (or… supposed to be Family).

Then a friend, through an IM, after reading my blog, made a comment to me: After reading your blog about how Ohana means family…  I couldn’t help but feel angry and bitter because i know that in any church, that means absolute bull.

At the time, I thought my friend was just suffering from some sort of resentment towards particular people within that church, or a few broken relationships. But you know… the older I get, the more small groups and fellowships and meetings I do to, see how that’s true. sometimes, the concept of family is just… nonexistent in church today.

how sad…