Thanks so much to Jonathon for suggesting this fantastic virtualrosary.org website. I downloaded the program and it's such an amazing little thing! I'll use it for my daily Rosary until I get the hang of it completely :) Thank you!!!!
I have no plans for New Years. It's going to be a quiet one at home. My stepfather is at work and my Mum and I are here at home. New Years Eve is blah. Last year I went to Sydney to watch the fireworks because my friend was visiting from New Zealand so I thought I'd make the effort. It was like a tin of sardines, though, honestly. And the fireworks were pretty and all, but I was just like.... ew can we go home now? I hate crowds. And I hate how people think New Year is a great excuse for random hobos and rogues to come up with their skanky drunken breath and give you a New Years kiss.
Yucksville. And all the New Years Eve parties I've ever been to end up turning out to be masqueraded orgies. Oh sure, exactly the type of scene I hang with.
Not.
In saying that, I hope everyone has a fantastic and SAFE New Years Eve. Ill be sitting outside watching the firecrackers from my yard, probably and then I'll call my bestfriend who's stuck in hospital. Poor her!
Be safe, God Bless!
Jess
Saturday, December 31, 2005
I've got a hole in my soul
In the shape of a Michael Jackson's trademark sillohette. Thanks Oprah, for all the dramatic material that you give me to work with...
Firstly I'll start by saying something that relates to my journal. The Catholic Calandar confuses me. Immensely. I was watching an episode of F.r.i.e.n.d.s today on DVD and there was a scene with Rachel and her little sister who she was trying to get to find a job and an apartment and her sister thought it was a good idea that she started dating different types of guys ... (I.E Ross) ... and Rachel said (while trying to deter her);
"Oh! No! You don't want to try too much too soon!"
To which her sister gave her a pensive glance and nodded slowly and Rachel added out of desperation; "You know what happened to the little girl who tried too much, too soon, don't you?"
Jill, her sister shook her head no and gave a perplexed look. Rachel struggled to find something to say and finally just blurted out; "She died Jill."
And right now, I feel like the little girl who's trying too much, too soon! (And yes. I just realised that the pretty little anecdote above proves nothing to my readers except that I watch way too much TV of a daytime) I am having problems grasping everything and as a result, I get overwhelmed and think "Wow, there's so much to learn........" and I feel a bit discouraged. (It's the type of person I am.) But I'm thinking that it'll all come within time. I feel even since I began this journal I have learned so much more than I knew even just a month ago through the blogs that I read and the websites I have been given to look at. So thanks to everyone :)
Secondly. It was a stupid windy day today and it was very hot. I got sunburned which I am pleased about. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be so sunburned that my shoulders are blood blistered or anything -- just a little bit burned so it'll turn to tan. Yes, I'm one of those people with the olive skin that goes to brown rather than to bright red! The extremes we go to for vanity. I am going back to Sydney at the end of the month for a week or so cause it's Penny's 21st and my other friend bought tickets to a concert for me.
Thirdly and finally. I despise people mocking my beliefs or opinions. I respect other people and their beliefs and opinions so why can't they do the same? I also despise when someone realises how much I (or anyone else for that matter) am enjoying something and they feel that they have to remark, comment or state something very, very spiteful to ruin it.
Let me explain. It's no secret that I'm a massive fan of Michael Jackson. I have been since I was about 6 and nothing has ever changed. And so as you can imagine, I've heard it all. In fact, I was known in my 3 short years of highschool as "the Michael Jackson girl" rather than people bothering to learn my actual name (yes, high school was a real treat). Sometimes people assess you as as much of a freak as they expect that he is (which he is not). My stepfather, for instance hates Michael Jackson. I sometimes wonder how someone could bother wasting their energy on hating someone who hasn't done anything that affects them at all, but hey, that's just me....
So anyway, my Mother likes Michael Jackson if for no other reason, but because she feels sorry for him and the way he is unjustly treated. And so we always get the same tired old questions and remarks. "Don't you think he looks like a freak?" No. "How come he bleaches his skin?" ...He didn't ever bleach his skin. "Do you think he is guilty?" No, but God help those kids because thier mother is an absolute psycho. "He was better when he was black." I'm sorry, did I miss the memo about him changing his heart and soul with the estrangement of his outward skintone? "His music is crap these days." Have you even heard his music these days? Or are you just going by what every other critic says?
I've heard it all. ALL. Some people have this idiotic misconception that Michael Jackson fans are stupid. I don't agree with everything that he has done with his life. I don't really care about his cosmetic surgery or the fact that his skin tone is different (vitiligo incase you're interested is the disease that is not-so-rare, MJ suffers from it and underwent skin de-pigmentation as he lost more than 50% of his pigment). I just care about his music and the Michael Jackson that I have come to know. Almost everything that is written is such crap. He's broke, he's dying, he's "abducted" his children, blah.
So someone decided to stir the pot with me, knowing it's one of those things that I just won't shut my mouth about. So this person who shall remain nameless began to tell me just out of the blue, "I watched this thing about Michael Jackson.... what a wacko." I get defensive when anyone calls Michael a wacko or anything else, for that matter, besides Michael. I asked what made him think MJ was a wacko. It's a futile question really, I always know what's coming...
Not surprisingly, all of the above was brought up. It was all very calm, I try not to become too fan-like when people ask me about him but generally people are very open to wanting to hear my own experiences of being a fan and what the real truth is. This guy just kept being so friggin' rude though. "He's an absolute freak of nature. Oh my God, did you see the amount of make up he wore, the shades suit him!" Blahblahblah.
I said with as much sarcasm, "No but man, did you see how much money he donates each year to charities internationally? Over ten million!!! What a repugnant freak!"
Someone then stepped in to tell the moron how I had traveled to California in April to support Michael Jackson. He ripped in to me about how I could support a proven paedophile. This angered me to a point that I thought it might have been better just to walk away -- but no. I glared at him took a deep breath and explained nicely (as I could) that what was shown on the news, in the stupid gossip magazines were a vast difference to what I witnessed with my own two eyes in the courtroom (I had court passes) and that the whole damn thing was a sham. And excuse me, but Michael Jackson was NEVER ever a proven paedophile. I added that people should be very, very careful with how they label people, especially if they don't know the truth.
Basically, I explained, as it was proven repeatedly in court. The accuser, his brother, sister and mother all lied. None of their stories were consistent, each lie was torn apart and pretty much laughed at after each court day. Of course the world wanted to see the worlds most successful musician fall from fame once again, so the media basked in their spin game and no matter what Michael did/does, it was turned in to a joke. He was stressed, sick, sad, depressed, at one point, injured, and the media and general public laughed. He was stripped of his dignity, physically strip-searched, had his house torn to pieces (literally -- funnily enough the public were never privvy to that), personal items stolen, his pride was smashed and yet nothing was proved because nothing took place to begin with. In fact, so many things testified to his innocence, but why did the media never report that?
Cause it doesn't sell.
So furthermore when I mentioned that I had met Michael Jackson (twice now) the first time, and had a chat to him, he asked me and I quote...
"Why didn't you shoot him in the face while you had the f*cking chance."
What. On. Earth. Is. That?
The bigger part of me wanted just to burst in to tears because of how in-my-face, rude, harsh and arrogant this person is. And it's sad that after everything Michael Jackson has done (musically and through charity) ... it all goes unnoticed, yet Bono gets this massive world wide acclaim, respect (and rightly so. He's a good guy) but all Michael Jackson can get is a 2min spot on the 6pm news where they'll brand him a weirdo, wacko jacko, side-show freak and so on, when still, quietly, without raising flares, he's giving all he can to others- not only around him, but in 3rd world countries, in Africa, in Asia... Not only 3rd world countries, but he's also given so much to other massive charities ...I remember one of his tours in particular, half of the proceeds of an 18month tour went to a charity. That was a LOT of money. Each year he spends well over 10 million dollars on charity-- and yet, you still get jerks saying that he should be shot in the face?
Bah. Maybe I'm naive, maybe I miss the point -- so he might be a bit weird, but every encounter that my friends and I have had with Michael have always been so full of love and so kind. And regular. Nothing weird, nothing crazy or even slightly eccentric. If anything, he was shy. And there's no crime in that. At the end of the day, I'll stand up for anyone who has a heart full of love who will do anything for anyone as per request, who will bring so much joy upon the faces of thousands, and irrespective of anyone's opinions or hatred, he has done exactly that. And soldiered on, never bleeding a bad word about anyone at all (even those who have tried to bring him down), but just staying silent and finding bliss in his own little world.
People make me mad.
Firstly I'll start by saying something that relates to my journal. The Catholic Calandar confuses me. Immensely. I was watching an episode of F.r.i.e.n.d.s today on DVD and there was a scene with Rachel and her little sister who she was trying to get to find a job and an apartment and her sister thought it was a good idea that she started dating different types of guys ... (I.E Ross) ... and Rachel said (while trying to deter her);
"Oh! No! You don't want to try too much too soon!"
To which her sister gave her a pensive glance and nodded slowly and Rachel added out of desperation; "You know what happened to the little girl who tried too much, too soon, don't you?"
Jill, her sister shook her head no and gave a perplexed look. Rachel struggled to find something to say and finally just blurted out; "She died Jill."
And right now, I feel like the little girl who's trying too much, too soon! (And yes. I just realised that the pretty little anecdote above proves nothing to my readers except that I watch way too much TV of a daytime) I am having problems grasping everything and as a result, I get overwhelmed and think "Wow, there's so much to learn........" and I feel a bit discouraged. (It's the type of person I am.) But I'm thinking that it'll all come within time. I feel even since I began this journal I have learned so much more than I knew even just a month ago through the blogs that I read and the websites I have been given to look at. So thanks to everyone :)
Secondly. It was a stupid windy day today and it was very hot. I got sunburned which I am pleased about. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be so sunburned that my shoulders are blood blistered or anything -- just a little bit burned so it'll turn to tan. Yes, I'm one of those people with the olive skin that goes to brown rather than to bright red! The extremes we go to for vanity. I am going back to Sydney at the end of the month for a week or so cause it's Penny's 21st and my other friend bought tickets to a concert for me.
Thirdly and finally. I despise people mocking my beliefs or opinions. I respect other people and their beliefs and opinions so why can't they do the same? I also despise when someone realises how much I (or anyone else for that matter) am enjoying something and they feel that they have to remark, comment or state something very, very spiteful to ruin it.
Let me explain. It's no secret that I'm a massive fan of Michael Jackson. I have been since I was about 6 and nothing has ever changed. And so as you can imagine, I've heard it all. In fact, I was known in my 3 short years of highschool as "the Michael Jackson girl" rather than people bothering to learn my actual name (yes, high school was a real treat). Sometimes people assess you as as much of a freak as they expect that he is (which he is not). My stepfather, for instance hates Michael Jackson. I sometimes wonder how someone could bother wasting their energy on hating someone who hasn't done anything that affects them at all, but hey, that's just me....
So anyway, my Mother likes Michael Jackson if for no other reason, but because she feels sorry for him and the way he is unjustly treated. And so we always get the same tired old questions and remarks. "Don't you think he looks like a freak?" No. "How come he bleaches his skin?" ...He didn't ever bleach his skin. "Do you think he is guilty?" No, but God help those kids because thier mother is an absolute psycho. "He was better when he was black." I'm sorry, did I miss the memo about him changing his heart and soul with the estrangement of his outward skintone? "His music is crap these days." Have you even heard his music these days? Or are you just going by what every other critic says?
I've heard it all. ALL. Some people have this idiotic misconception that Michael Jackson fans are stupid. I don't agree with everything that he has done with his life. I don't really care about his cosmetic surgery or the fact that his skin tone is different (vitiligo incase you're interested is the disease that is not-so-rare, MJ suffers from it and underwent skin de-pigmentation as he lost more than 50% of his pigment). I just care about his music and the Michael Jackson that I have come to know. Almost everything that is written is such crap. He's broke, he's dying, he's "abducted" his children, blah.
So someone decided to stir the pot with me, knowing it's one of those things that I just won't shut my mouth about. So this person who shall remain nameless began to tell me just out of the blue, "I watched this thing about Michael Jackson.... what a wacko." I get defensive when anyone calls Michael a wacko or anything else, for that matter, besides Michael. I asked what made him think MJ was a wacko. It's a futile question really, I always know what's coming...
Not surprisingly, all of the above was brought up. It was all very calm, I try not to become too fan-like when people ask me about him but generally people are very open to wanting to hear my own experiences of being a fan and what the real truth is. This guy just kept being so friggin' rude though. "He's an absolute freak of nature. Oh my God, did you see the amount of make up he wore, the shades suit him!" Blahblahblah.
I said with as much sarcasm, "No but man, did you see how much money he donates each year to charities internationally? Over ten million!!! What a repugnant freak!"
Someone then stepped in to tell the moron how I had traveled to California in April to support Michael Jackson. He ripped in to me about how I could support a proven paedophile. This angered me to a point that I thought it might have been better just to walk away -- but no. I glared at him took a deep breath and explained nicely (as I could) that what was shown on the news, in the stupid gossip magazines were a vast difference to what I witnessed with my own two eyes in the courtroom (I had court passes) and that the whole damn thing was a sham. And excuse me, but Michael Jackson was NEVER ever a proven paedophile. I added that people should be very, very careful with how they label people, especially if they don't know the truth.
Basically, I explained, as it was proven repeatedly in court. The accuser, his brother, sister and mother all lied. None of their stories were consistent, each lie was torn apart and pretty much laughed at after each court day. Of course the world wanted to see the worlds most successful musician fall from fame once again, so the media basked in their spin game and no matter what Michael did/does, it was turned in to a joke. He was stressed, sick, sad, depressed, at one point, injured, and the media and general public laughed. He was stripped of his dignity, physically strip-searched, had his house torn to pieces (literally -- funnily enough the public were never privvy to that), personal items stolen, his pride was smashed and yet nothing was proved because nothing took place to begin with. In fact, so many things testified to his innocence, but why did the media never report that?
Cause it doesn't sell.
So furthermore when I mentioned that I had met Michael Jackson (twice now) the first time, and had a chat to him, he asked me and I quote...
"Why didn't you shoot him in the face while you had the f*cking chance."
What. On. Earth. Is. That?
The bigger part of me wanted just to burst in to tears because of how in-my-face, rude, harsh and arrogant this person is. And it's sad that after everything Michael Jackson has done (musically and through charity) ... it all goes unnoticed, yet Bono gets this massive world wide acclaim, respect (and rightly so. He's a good guy) but all Michael Jackson can get is a 2min spot on the 6pm news where they'll brand him a weirdo, wacko jacko, side-show freak and so on, when still, quietly, without raising flares, he's giving all he can to others- not only around him, but in 3rd world countries, in Africa, in Asia... Not only 3rd world countries, but he's also given so much to other massive charities ...I remember one of his tours in particular, half of the proceeds of an 18month tour went to a charity. That was a LOT of money. Each year he spends well over 10 million dollars on charity-- and yet, you still get jerks saying that he should be shot in the face?
Bah. Maybe I'm naive, maybe I miss the point -- so he might be a bit weird, but every encounter that my friends and I have had with Michael have always been so full of love and so kind. And regular. Nothing weird, nothing crazy or even slightly eccentric. If anything, he was shy. And there's no crime in that. At the end of the day, I'll stand up for anyone who has a heart full of love who will do anything for anyone as per request, who will bring so much joy upon the faces of thousands, and irrespective of anyone's opinions or hatred, he has done exactly that. And soldiered on, never bleeding a bad word about anyone at all (even those who have tried to bring him down), but just staying silent and finding bliss in his own little world.
People make me mad.
Friday, December 30, 2005
Thoughts, learning, praying, religion...
Each time I read something insightful it just sprouts off about a thousand other questions and my mind feels so overwhelmed by what I don't know in regards to my faith as there is so much! Sometimes I feel like I am completely getting it and other times ... like now, I feel like I'm so far from understanding anything. I guess there's a certain amount of insecurity attached to it, which is silly.
For instance, I learned how to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet ages ago on the Rosary -- but I still am confused as to how to pray the regular Rosary Chaplet even after I've got the diagram and the prayers and such ... and it'd be easier if I had someone to physically show me, but unless someone in my household wakes up with a new skill tomorrow, that won't happen. I think the whole "meditate the mysteries" thing confuses me. It's such a pain to be so far away from anyone of Faith sometimes...
I'm getting so confused with references to all different teachings like, I know very loosely what the Catechism is, but where did it come from and... what's its point?
And boy, is this petty and stupid but ... awhile back -- in September, I had 2 friends praying urgently for me over the phone ... and their prayers were just so direct and to the point and I was so glad that they didn't expect me to say anything because I would have felt like a mumbling fool. It made me wonder if matters any to the outcome. I would be embarrassed if anyone asked me to pray with them because I beat around the bush (especially when I pray out loud) and I don't usually have a point to what I'm saying. And my friends, I was pretty floored by everything that they had said. They knew exactly what to ask for, and it sounded so powerful. Is there such a thing as praying wrong? Is there specific ways to pray that are more effective than others?
And as for purgatory. I read something about there being fire in Purgatory, that it's not somewhere you'd want to particularly be for a long time. However, my friend described it to me as a place where you go to be cleansed before "meeting" God. He told me that the good thing about Purgatory is that you can only go on up to Heaven there is no descending to Hell. Is Purgatory a painful place to be? Are souls in deep suffering there, and if so, then what's the point? Why not just cut out the middle man and hang out in Hell ... wouldn't it be the same thing?
I don't pray enough. I guess in all honesty, I still see it as a chore, and don't always think of it as talking to God, but just saying a bunch of stuff to make myself feel more consoled.... There are times of course where I truly do pray with sincerity, but lately those times have been more rare -- I think more than anything it's due to the lack of church, lack Christian family around me... crappy atmosphere and such.
And on top of all that, I'm feeling a bit down cause I'm looking for a place to live closer to the city and everything is so expensive and I'm in way too much debt for someone my age. Maybe I could add this regret to Cube's question... I never listened to my Father enough when he told me about what to and what not to do. "Clean up after yourself and don't get in to debt." lol. And Gosh, it's so hard to find a job when you're living in the middle of a freaking Ghost town and physical limitations ... unless I had a tractor licence or something. (Which I don't.)
So yeah. Feeling a bit flat tonight....And it's way, way, way past my bed time. :(
For instance, I learned how to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet ages ago on the Rosary -- but I still am confused as to how to pray the regular Rosary Chaplet even after I've got the diagram and the prayers and such ... and it'd be easier if I had someone to physically show me, but unless someone in my household wakes up with a new skill tomorrow, that won't happen. I think the whole "meditate the mysteries" thing confuses me. It's such a pain to be so far away from anyone of Faith sometimes...
I'm getting so confused with references to all different teachings like, I know very loosely what the Catechism is, but where did it come from and... what's its point?
And boy, is this petty and stupid but ... awhile back -- in September, I had 2 friends praying urgently for me over the phone ... and their prayers were just so direct and to the point and I was so glad that they didn't expect me to say anything because I would have felt like a mumbling fool. It made me wonder if matters any to the outcome. I would be embarrassed if anyone asked me to pray with them because I beat around the bush (especially when I pray out loud) and I don't usually have a point to what I'm saying. And my friends, I was pretty floored by everything that they had said. They knew exactly what to ask for, and it sounded so powerful. Is there such a thing as praying wrong? Is there specific ways to pray that are more effective than others?
And as for purgatory. I read something about there being fire in Purgatory, that it's not somewhere you'd want to particularly be for a long time. However, my friend described it to me as a place where you go to be cleansed before "meeting" God. He told me that the good thing about Purgatory is that you can only go on up to Heaven there is no descending to Hell. Is Purgatory a painful place to be? Are souls in deep suffering there, and if so, then what's the point? Why not just cut out the middle man and hang out in Hell ... wouldn't it be the same thing?
I don't pray enough. I guess in all honesty, I still see it as a chore, and don't always think of it as talking to God, but just saying a bunch of stuff to make myself feel more consoled.... There are times of course where I truly do pray with sincerity, but lately those times have been more rare -- I think more than anything it's due to the lack of church, lack Christian family around me... crappy atmosphere and such.
And on top of all that, I'm feeling a bit down cause I'm looking for a place to live closer to the city and everything is so expensive and I'm in way too much debt for someone my age. Maybe I could add this regret to Cube's question... I never listened to my Father enough when he told me about what to and what not to do. "Clean up after yourself and don't get in to debt." lol. And Gosh, it's so hard to find a job when you're living in the middle of a freaking Ghost town and physical limitations ... unless I had a tractor licence or something. (Which I don't.)
So yeah. Feeling a bit flat tonight....And it's way, way, way past my bed time. :(
Thursday, December 29, 2005
How Long?
"How long shall I put up with you and how long will you keep putting Me off?" (Diary 9, pg 7, Notebook I)
I have been reading The Diary Of St Faustina and it's very heavy reading. There's so much in there that I just have to sit and digest before going back to read more. There was a passage in particular that engulfed me with a sense of the utmost reality. St. Faustina had a vision or saw an apparition of another sister that was part of her convent and she was burning in the fires of (I think) purgatory (it may have been Hell, I can't find the passage) and she started praying for her soul, for Jesus to show His Divine Mercy and she appeared nights later worse-off. There was a description of how the sister looked, and I just felt my heart jump. While I don't fear my Lord, I do fear going to the wrong place after I die.
It truly made me take a step away from myself and view my actions and how they affect others around me. Each time I read some of the words that Jesus speaks to St. Faustina, I am filled with joy, and a smile appears upon my lips. To know just how much He loves us! To know that I am the Daughter of Holy Mother Mary.... Wow! The book is so uplifting in so many passages.
I don't doubt the Holiness of St. Faustina, and she is easily my favourite Saint. She had such an amazing life. The opening line of this entry is one of the first things that Jesus said after appearing to her in a dance club (of all places!) I recommend everyone to read it! It's a huge read, intense as well, but so worth it! I have been dreaming of Jesus Christ, St. Faustina and The Divine Mercy for the past week!
So, Penny is pretty much okay. She'll have to stay in the hospital for a bit, but that was to be expected. She was really lucky and is in fantastic spirits as usual, a few of my SMS jokes made her laugh (to be expected :D) ... I went to the doctor and he didn't give me a blood test after all. He was a new doctor, I haven't set up a GP since I've moved to Victoria. So, I seemed happy with him. I was impressed because I told him I had Portal Hypertension and Portal Thrombosis and had a Liver bypass surgery and immediately he knew what the bypass was called - Impressed because Doctors always expect me to know the name -- and yet, I don't cause I have a shocking memory. I also hate seeing Drs for the first time because I have to explain the medical history and endure a look as if I've just sprouted an extra head;
Hyper Plastic Left Heart Syndrome
Cardio Pulmonary Hypertension
Hyper Plasia Right Lung
Absent Left Lung
Absent Left Kidney
Spastic Neurogenic Bladder
Scoliocis
Portal Hypertension
Cardio Thrombosis
PDA....
Oh tra la la la.... I spent an hour in there just explaining that junk. It was about time I went though. It's my new years resolution to start taking care of myself. I haven't been to the cardio since I was 18, and I know if my Sydney GP knew that she'd kick my butt. I also need to make an appointment with everyone else.. So anyway, I went in. Explained that my friend has meningococal and we'd been sharing drink and food and probably saliva of some kind... and so immediately he gave me a course of anti biotics to take and warned me that my urine would turn red.
This seemed somewhat amusing to me, and known for my queendom of inappropriateness, I couldn't help but say in a mock-serious voice, "But it's still gonna taste the same, right?????" You know when.... you tell a joke and ... either nobody gets it or nobody thinks its funny and you hear crickets or see a ball of tumbleweed roll by? .... Yeah.... that's what happened. It was mighty uncomfortable but on the inside I was beside myself in hysterics at just how hilarious my own joke was....
He managed a pathetic teeter.... I think I'll look for a new GP. One with a sense of humour. Ahem.
The Cubicle Reverend answered two questions that I asked him on his journal and posed 2 for me, so here they are in all their answered glory.
What would be your dream job and why?
More than anything I want to be a writer. I have always wanted to write, I spend most of my time writing and it's an amazing outlet. By reading, people can learn and be educated on things that they otherwise wouldn't learn about through people skills, and the ability to relate to others through the written word is a gift that I dare dream and pray to possess. :)
What is your one regret?
Hmm, only one. I try hard not to live in regret, but there's a two huge things and they both weigh out pretty equal. I was closest to my Grandmother growing up and in my family besides my Nana, we were all emotionally void. I saw my Grandmother, conscious on her death bed just hours before she died and I wanted to tell her more than anything else in the world that I loved her but even though I was alone with her and there was no one else around, I couldn't push the words from my mouth regardless of how hard I tried. Instead, I sat beside her, holding her hand trying to pretend everything was all roses, stifling tears because I didn't want her to worry about me. In the end, I couldn't hold my tears back anymore. I said "Bye" very noncommitally, and left the room because I was too coward to say "I love you" ... And that was the last time I saw her. Talk about mental scarring!!
That's all for now!
I have been reading The Diary Of St Faustina and it's very heavy reading. There's so much in there that I just have to sit and digest before going back to read more. There was a passage in particular that engulfed me with a sense of the utmost reality. St. Faustina had a vision or saw an apparition of another sister that was part of her convent and she was burning in the fires of (I think) purgatory (it may have been Hell, I can't find the passage) and she started praying for her soul, for Jesus to show His Divine Mercy and she appeared nights later worse-off. There was a description of how the sister looked, and I just felt my heart jump. While I don't fear my Lord, I do fear going to the wrong place after I die.
It truly made me take a step away from myself and view my actions and how they affect others around me. Each time I read some of the words that Jesus speaks to St. Faustina, I am filled with joy, and a smile appears upon my lips. To know just how much He loves us! To know that I am the Daughter of Holy Mother Mary.... Wow! The book is so uplifting in so many passages.
I don't doubt the Holiness of St. Faustina, and she is easily my favourite Saint. She had such an amazing life. The opening line of this entry is one of the first things that Jesus said after appearing to her in a dance club (of all places!) I recommend everyone to read it! It's a huge read, intense as well, but so worth it! I have been dreaming of Jesus Christ, St. Faustina and The Divine Mercy for the past week!
So, Penny is pretty much okay. She'll have to stay in the hospital for a bit, but that was to be expected. She was really lucky and is in fantastic spirits as usual, a few of my SMS jokes made her laugh (to be expected :D) ... I went to the doctor and he didn't give me a blood test after all. He was a new doctor, I haven't set up a GP since I've moved to Victoria. So, I seemed happy with him. I was impressed because I told him I had Portal Hypertension and Portal Thrombosis and had a Liver bypass surgery and immediately he knew what the bypass was called - Impressed because Doctors always expect me to know the name -- and yet, I don't cause I have a shocking memory. I also hate seeing Drs for the first time because I have to explain the medical history and endure a look as if I've just sprouted an extra head;
Hyper Plastic Left Heart Syndrome
Cardio Pulmonary Hypertension
Hyper Plasia Right Lung
Absent Left Lung
Absent Left Kidney
Spastic Neurogenic Bladder
Scoliocis
Portal Hypertension
Cardio Thrombosis
PDA....
Oh tra la la la.... I spent an hour in there just explaining that junk. It was about time I went though. It's my new years resolution to start taking care of myself. I haven't been to the cardio since I was 18, and I know if my Sydney GP knew that she'd kick my butt. I also need to make an appointment with everyone else.. So anyway, I went in. Explained that my friend has meningococal and we'd been sharing drink and food and probably saliva of some kind... and so immediately he gave me a course of anti biotics to take and warned me that my urine would turn red.
This seemed somewhat amusing to me, and known for my queendom of inappropriateness, I couldn't help but say in a mock-serious voice, "But it's still gonna taste the same, right?????" You know when.... you tell a joke and ... either nobody gets it or nobody thinks its funny and you hear crickets or see a ball of tumbleweed roll by? .... Yeah.... that's what happened. It was mighty uncomfortable but on the inside I was beside myself in hysterics at just how hilarious my own joke was....
He managed a pathetic teeter.... I think I'll look for a new GP. One with a sense of humour. Ahem.
The Cubicle Reverend answered two questions that I asked him on his journal and posed 2 for me, so here they are in all their answered glory.
What would be your dream job and why?
More than anything I want to be a writer. I have always wanted to write, I spend most of my time writing and it's an amazing outlet. By reading, people can learn and be educated on things that they otherwise wouldn't learn about through people skills, and the ability to relate to others through the written word is a gift that I dare dream and pray to possess. :)
What is your one regret?
Hmm, only one. I try hard not to live in regret, but there's a two huge things and they both weigh out pretty equal. I was closest to my Grandmother growing up and in my family besides my Nana, we were all emotionally void. I saw my Grandmother, conscious on her death bed just hours before she died and I wanted to tell her more than anything else in the world that I loved her but even though I was alone with her and there was no one else around, I couldn't push the words from my mouth regardless of how hard I tried. Instead, I sat beside her, holding her hand trying to pretend everything was all roses, stifling tears because I didn't want her to worry about me. In the end, I couldn't hold my tears back anymore. I said "Bye" very noncommitally, and left the room because I was too coward to say "I love you" ... And that was the last time I saw her. Talk about mental scarring!!
That's all for now!
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Meningococal Update....
I have to go have a blood test at 4:30pm to make sure I don't have it - and from there they'll decide what the plan of action is.
Super.
Super.
Absolutely Splendid
I got a call at around 9:30am this morning, just as I was about to get in to the shower from my bestfriend's Mum (pictured below). My bestfriend Penelope, was admitted to hospital with Meningitis last night. As we all know, this is a contagious disease ... I would know having been there and done that a couple of years ago -- however, I don't particularly want to get it ever again, given my medical history. So, her Mum told me she'd call me back a bit later with an update. I was thinking I'd shown no symptoms of having it. No headaches, no neckache, no rash, no lethargy, so far so good. It was just a courtesy call, nothing too important.
So then Belinda called me back to let me know that after the lumber puncture (spinal tap), Penny may just have meningococal. Splendid. If the test is positive (I will find out later) I will have to go to the hospital for a round of medication because it's a life and death illness as per everyone else who spent time with her in the last few days including her recently (as of 2 days) ex-boyfriend. Poor thing.
So can you guys please pray that she doesn't have it? I don't want her to have an illness that serious, and I don't want to go to hospital (I've been on such a good run! lol) I don't want to contract it and I don't want her to have to go through the discomfort of having to contact her ex.
What a Merry Christmas gift! haha. Me and my good ol'e diseased friends! We're a sickly bunch.
....And while I'm waiting for that call; you can see that I fixed my stupid profile side-bar thing-o by changing the appearance of my blog. I did much prefer the other layout, but this one looks a fair bit neater and I've justified all the alignment and added a few new things.
So on to the conversation with my Aunt that I destested so much! (And continual references to it all through the weekend)...
My Aunt is one of those people who just have nothing nice to say about anyone. She's extremely negative, a hypochondriac and all she does is complain about ev-ry-thing. So with that in mind, we decided to go to a Chinese restaurant for dinner -- one in an area that she didn't approve of (this is two nights before Xmas) much to my Mother and my disinterest. We sit down to eat, order and wait. I leave my purse on the table open. I used to have a photo in my purse of Guy Sebastian and one of my friends and I, together from some event taken about 2 yrs ago. I since decided that I've grown out of keeping my celebrity boyfriends from my purse (haha a big decision) since I was also so embarrassed when people saw it. (Especially if they knew my age.) I wanted something to cover it ... and I realised my Divine Mercy prayer card fit there just perfectly so I have Jesus sitting in my purse, with his hand up, ready to show me his Mercy! Beautiful and perfect and this way it'd always be with me.
Now, I'm not at all secret about my faith anymore. At first I wasn't entirely comfortable with people knowing I was choosing to be Catholic (which was only because I wasn't comfortable with my beliefs, myself) I was also a bit embarrassed about my Mum finding out, cause I didn't want her to make me feel stupid. But everyone so far has been really accepting, even my Mum who baits me at times about it (but has since stopped) so for me to talk about it is nothing... So, you could imagine my surprise when, out of nowhere the Aunt says;
"What's with all this God stuff?" She stared directly at me. I gave her a funny look. Another thing is, is that I always take my Rosary with me, wherever I go. I don't normally wear it, but just keep it near in a pocket or something. But I had it on (under my clothes) because I was traveling and scared of losing it and I generally wear a silver Crucifix (and I believe I was not at all advertising my Faith. I despise when I see people who do that).
"What?" I asked her. I was a bit confused I didn't know where it came from.
She pointed to the picture of Jesus and then to my neck and said, "You've become all weird."
"Weird?" I glanced at my Mum (was this their not-so-divine intervention???). She rolled her eyes. I added, "What are you talking about?"
She said, "Oh all of a sudden, all this Jesus stuff... going to church and having a bible and anyway, if you're Catholic what are you doing reading the Bible??"
... I gave her a blank stare. I detest it with all my heart when people try to tell me that Catholics don't study the Bible. We obviously got our beliefs from somewhere, did it sprout from thick air? I said "its not all of a sudden at all."
My Mum, surprised me by interjecting and saying, "It's not weird at all. She goes to Mass on Sundays and she believes in God. What?"
My Aunt scornfully laughed and said, "What, has she been once in her entire life?"
I defended myself (not that I really needed to) and said that I go quite often and that there was nothing weird or sudden about my interest in not going to Hell and going to Heaven after I die.
She then said something that was just oh-so hilarious, "So does the church fall down on you then?" followed by her own laughter.
Oh excuse me while I double over in hysterics, clutching at my stomach until this unmerciful laughter subsides! You are just so funny and nooooo I haven't heard that one at all before!
I rolled my eyes at her and made it clear that I wouldn't be continuing the conversation any further. I told her that the only way to go on and up was to believe and I was going to be getting myself off to the right place! And I let it be that.
I wonder what it is in God's name that repels people so much? Why are people so repulsed by the thought of believe in Jesus, looking at a Bible or knowing that someone has been brought so much joy through The Lord? Why can't they just be happy for me?
As if that wasn't enough... I have a very blunt, bold and sarcastic personality. I say things that could seem quite harsh if you didn't know me (I make a conscious effort to try not to do that in front of strangers these days). I like to be inappropriate and witty because everyone who really knows me thinks I'm hysterical, and they laugh a LOT. and I love keeping my friends and family lauging. When they smile, I smile. My Aunt knows me. My sense of humour shouldn't be taken seriously, well you'd think she knows that. Anyway, I borrowed her street directory and left it in my brother's ute by accident and I told her I'd get him to drop it off. It was a mistake on my behalf and I felt bad.
She went on this spiel about how my brother hates her (it's true, he does. That's not my problem though, and he's never explicitly told her. He just avoids her -- it could have something to do with all the negativity.) and that she wouldn't get the street dir. back without me bitching about her to him. I was offended since she loaned me the street dir. out of kindness, and I'd obviously made a mistake, but why would I say bad things about her? It was my wront to right, there's nothing bad to say about her. I said sarcastically, "Oh, you just know me so well, don't you?" (I was a little annoyed) and she said to my mum, "Don't you think that it's ironic that your daughter who believes in all this God stuff can be such a spiteful little cow?"
I wanted to give her a serving of my own kind, but I said nothing and seethed on the inside. My Mum rolled her eyes and walked outside. I then said, "And why would I bitch about you to him? What could I possibly have to say?"
And she added, "It's just the type of person you are."
....I had two words for her and one of them started with f and ended in k and the second one could abbrieviated in to a single vowel. I didn't say them. I closed my mouth and walked right out of the room. I am still highly offended and I refuse to ever stay at her house again and subject myself to that crap. And she's my God mother too! Ha! Can you select new Godparents during communion? lol! I need a new one. I was at the end of the line when God parents were handed out (or even indirect family)
Isn't that harsh? Also when my Dad arrived to pick me up (he wouldn't come to the door, he too hates my Aunt after she threatened to kill my Dad years back; to which he responded he'd put the backyard hose on her turned up lol) and beeped for me. As I walked out the door she goes, "Big kisses to daddy for me!"
.... Now, I don't expect my Mum to like my Dad. I expect my Aunt to care much, much less about my Dad. But apparently she hates him more than my Mum. I turned and told her in a sugar sweet voice, "Don't be nasty."... Oh man, that woman.... She just makes me seethe. So much happened this weekend that made me want to karate chop her head, jet li style.
*SHAKES FIST*
I'm still recovering from Christmas and the sleep I missed. I want a nap. I hope Penny's Mum calls me soon so I can sleep easy.
So then Belinda called me back to let me know that after the lumber puncture (spinal tap), Penny may just have meningococal. Splendid. If the test is positive (I will find out later) I will have to go to the hospital for a round of medication because it's a life and death illness as per everyone else who spent time with her in the last few days including her recently (as of 2 days) ex-boyfriend. Poor thing.
So can you guys please pray that she doesn't have it? I don't want her to have an illness that serious, and I don't want to go to hospital (I've been on such a good run! lol) I don't want to contract it and I don't want her to have to go through the discomfort of having to contact her ex.
What a Merry Christmas gift! haha. Me and my good ol'e diseased friends! We're a sickly bunch.
....And while I'm waiting for that call; you can see that I fixed my stupid profile side-bar thing-o by changing the appearance of my blog. I did much prefer the other layout, but this one looks a fair bit neater and I've justified all the alignment and added a few new things.
So on to the conversation with my Aunt that I destested so much! (And continual references to it all through the weekend)...
My Aunt is one of those people who just have nothing nice to say about anyone. She's extremely negative, a hypochondriac and all she does is complain about ev-ry-thing. So with that in mind, we decided to go to a Chinese restaurant for dinner -- one in an area that she didn't approve of (this is two nights before Xmas) much to my Mother and my disinterest. We sit down to eat, order and wait. I leave my purse on the table open. I used to have a photo in my purse of Guy Sebastian and one of my friends and I, together from some event taken about 2 yrs ago. I since decided that I've grown out of keeping my celebrity boyfriends from my purse (haha a big decision) since I was also so embarrassed when people saw it. (Especially if they knew my age.) I wanted something to cover it ... and I realised my Divine Mercy prayer card fit there just perfectly so I have Jesus sitting in my purse, with his hand up, ready to show me his Mercy! Beautiful and perfect and this way it'd always be with me.
Now, I'm not at all secret about my faith anymore. At first I wasn't entirely comfortable with people knowing I was choosing to be Catholic (which was only because I wasn't comfortable with my beliefs, myself) I was also a bit embarrassed about my Mum finding out, cause I didn't want her to make me feel stupid. But everyone so far has been really accepting, even my Mum who baits me at times about it (but has since stopped) so for me to talk about it is nothing... So, you could imagine my surprise when, out of nowhere the Aunt says;
"What's with all this God stuff?" She stared directly at me. I gave her a funny look. Another thing is, is that I always take my Rosary with me, wherever I go. I don't normally wear it, but just keep it near in a pocket or something. But I had it on (under my clothes) because I was traveling and scared of losing it and I generally wear a silver Crucifix (and I believe I was not at all advertising my Faith. I despise when I see people who do that).
"What?" I asked her. I was a bit confused I didn't know where it came from.
She pointed to the picture of Jesus and then to my neck and said, "You've become all weird."
"Weird?" I glanced at my Mum (was this their not-so-divine intervention???). She rolled her eyes. I added, "What are you talking about?"
She said, "Oh all of a sudden, all this Jesus stuff... going to church and having a bible and anyway, if you're Catholic what are you doing reading the Bible??"
... I gave her a blank stare. I detest it with all my heart when people try to tell me that Catholics don't study the Bible. We obviously got our beliefs from somewhere, did it sprout from thick air? I said "its not all of a sudden at all."
My Mum, surprised me by interjecting and saying, "It's not weird at all. She goes to Mass on Sundays and she believes in God. What?"
My Aunt scornfully laughed and said, "What, has she been once in her entire life?"
I defended myself (not that I really needed to) and said that I go quite often and that there was nothing weird or sudden about my interest in not going to Hell and going to Heaven after I die.
She then said something that was just oh-so hilarious, "So does the church fall down on you then?" followed by her own laughter.
Oh excuse me while I double over in hysterics, clutching at my stomach until this unmerciful laughter subsides! You are just so funny and nooooo I haven't heard that one at all before!
I rolled my eyes at her and made it clear that I wouldn't be continuing the conversation any further. I told her that the only way to go on and up was to believe and I was going to be getting myself off to the right place! And I let it be that.
I wonder what it is in God's name that repels people so much? Why are people so repulsed by the thought of believe in Jesus, looking at a Bible or knowing that someone has been brought so much joy through The Lord? Why can't they just be happy for me?
As if that wasn't enough... I have a very blunt, bold and sarcastic personality. I say things that could seem quite harsh if you didn't know me (I make a conscious effort to try not to do that in front of strangers these days). I like to be inappropriate and witty because everyone who really knows me thinks I'm hysterical, and they laugh a LOT. and I love keeping my friends and family lauging. When they smile, I smile. My Aunt knows me. My sense of humour shouldn't be taken seriously, well you'd think she knows that. Anyway, I borrowed her street directory and left it in my brother's ute by accident and I told her I'd get him to drop it off. It was a mistake on my behalf and I felt bad.
She went on this spiel about how my brother hates her (it's true, he does. That's not my problem though, and he's never explicitly told her. He just avoids her -- it could have something to do with all the negativity.) and that she wouldn't get the street dir. back without me bitching about her to him. I was offended since she loaned me the street dir. out of kindness, and I'd obviously made a mistake, but why would I say bad things about her? It was my wront to right, there's nothing bad to say about her. I said sarcastically, "Oh, you just know me so well, don't you?" (I was a little annoyed) and she said to my mum, "Don't you think that it's ironic that your daughter who believes in all this God stuff can be such a spiteful little cow?"
I wanted to give her a serving of my own kind, but I said nothing and seethed on the inside. My Mum rolled her eyes and walked outside. I then said, "And why would I bitch about you to him? What could I possibly have to say?"
And she added, "It's just the type of person you are."
....I had two words for her and one of them started with f and ended in k and the second one could abbrieviated in to a single vowel. I didn't say them. I closed my mouth and walked right out of the room. I am still highly offended and I refuse to ever stay at her house again and subject myself to that crap. And she's my God mother too! Ha! Can you select new Godparents during communion? lol! I need a new one. I was at the end of the line when God parents were handed out (or even indirect family)
Isn't that harsh? Also when my Dad arrived to pick me up (he wouldn't come to the door, he too hates my Aunt after she threatened to kill my Dad years back; to which he responded he'd put the backyard hose on her turned up lol) and beeped for me. As I walked out the door she goes, "Big kisses to daddy for me!"
.... Now, I don't expect my Mum to like my Dad. I expect my Aunt to care much, much less about my Dad. But apparently she hates him more than my Mum. I turned and told her in a sugar sweet voice, "Don't be nasty."... Oh man, that woman.... She just makes me seethe. So much happened this weekend that made me want to karate chop her head, jet li style.
*SHAKES FIST*
I'm still recovering from Christmas and the sleep I missed. I want a nap. I hope Penny's Mum calls me soon so I can sleep easy.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Christmas day in a photographic nutshell
I'm now back. I have a bit of a rant to write about what happened with my Aunt and a discussion about my religion, but after the 12hr+ drive home from Sydney today, I am in dire need of a good cool shower (it's so hot!) and a good night's sleep. (And finally home with my beautiful Billie who I freshly bathed) so here are a couple of my photos from Christmas Day. Truly I cherished the time I spent with my best friend, as she has had the toughest and yet most satisfying year of her life. Maybe I'll share more about her later, but her turn around is such an amazing gift from God.
Me, unwrapping my beautiful bottle of my favourite perfume Jean Paul Gaultier. Mmmm. (bad choice with the white skirt. I know.)
Christmas Eve, being a goose.
With my Mummy. :)
With my future sister-in-law (as of April. I'm the bridesmaid!)
My brother wearing one of his silly wigs, and his fiance. (My brother has this strange fettish for wigs. LOL)
With my bestfriend, Penelope.
With my second Mum, Penelope's Mum.
Swimming at Penelope's. Yes. My hair is great, of this I am aware. Spare the compliments, pleeeease... hahahaha.
And finally, satisfying my biting problem. (Hahaha)
I actually look like an extention from her body, right? hahaha.
Okie dokie, don't you all just feel so fullfilled?? I need a quick cool shower then I'm off to the land of nod. Oh man, it feels so good to be home. And man, I need to fix the blog layout, it's driving me insane. It looks sooooooo low-budget at the mo with the HTML errors.
Toorah! Good night and God Bless and Praise God for the gift of family and friends. :)
Me, unwrapping my beautiful bottle of my favourite perfume Jean Paul Gaultier. Mmmm. (bad choice with the white skirt. I know.)
Christmas Eve, being a goose.
With my Mummy. :)
With my future sister-in-law (as of April. I'm the bridesmaid!)
My brother wearing one of his silly wigs, and his fiance. (My brother has this strange fettish for wigs. LOL)
With my bestfriend, Penelope.
With my second Mum, Penelope's Mum.
Swimming at Penelope's. Yes. My hair is great, of this I am aware. Spare the compliments, pleeeease... hahahaha.
And finally, satisfying my biting problem. (Hahaha)
I actually look like an extention from her body, right? hahaha.
Okie dokie, don't you all just feel so fullfilled?? I need a quick cool shower then I'm off to the land of nod. Oh man, it feels so good to be home. And man, I need to fix the blog layout, it's driving me insane. It looks sooooooo low-budget at the mo with the HTML errors.
Toorah! Good night and God Bless and Praise God for the gift of family and friends. :)
Monday, December 26, 2005
Jesus, I trust in You.
I'm not "back" yet but I'm online at my Aunt's house and I brought my laptop with me because I was worried this would be a boring trip (without a car). And actually I've had a great short-trip to Sydney. My lovely friend Valan came to visit me on Christmas Eve, I haven't seen her since my birthday in October which was really nice. :) (She comments here sometimes. :D)
Christmas Day was great. I got to spend some nice time with my brother and his fiance and spent Christmas morning with my Dad until about 2pm and had a beautiful baked dinner lunch with him. I spent some time talking with My Jesus. I got to see my neices, I hung out with my Mum for a couple of hours.
We ate good food, exchanged some good gifts and then my brother showed an amazing gift of kindness by asking me how I was getting to my friends house later (my Mum was dropping me off, but I wasnt entirely sure how I was getting home) once I told him, he offered to loan me his spare car as he and his fiance were going away for a few days.
By car I mean ute. And by ute I mean 4WD. I'm 4'8ft and I looked like I hijacked my Daddy's work truck. Hurrah! It was great though, I could get around without having to rely on anyone. My brother even went and put some petrol in the car for me :) Nice!
I went and spent some time with my best friend Penelope in the afternoon and saw her lovely Mum (who we both joke is my real mother) and we pigged out more, swam and invited one of her other friends over. We stayed up really late last night watching TV and giggling in bed over nothing.
Today we woke up late, ate a late breakfast, swam, got sunburned and went out to dinner (which in all seriousness wasnt very nice) and then I drove back to my brothers and dropped his car off and here I am....
I can't wait to get home because I feel a really strong separation anxiety from my doggy, Billie! I love my puppy doggy!! :(
I hope you all had an amazing Christmas and were able to remember the true meaning of it :)
God Bless,
Jess xxx
Christmas Day was great. I got to spend some nice time with my brother and his fiance and spent Christmas morning with my Dad until about 2pm and had a beautiful baked dinner lunch with him. I spent some time talking with My Jesus. I got to see my neices, I hung out with my Mum for a couple of hours.
We ate good food, exchanged some good gifts and then my brother showed an amazing gift of kindness by asking me how I was getting to my friends house later (my Mum was dropping me off, but I wasnt entirely sure how I was getting home) once I told him, he offered to loan me his spare car as he and his fiance were going away for a few days.
By car I mean ute. And by ute I mean 4WD. I'm 4'8ft and I looked like I hijacked my Daddy's work truck. Hurrah! It was great though, I could get around without having to rely on anyone. My brother even went and put some petrol in the car for me :) Nice!
I went and spent some time with my best friend Penelope in the afternoon and saw her lovely Mum (who we both joke is my real mother) and we pigged out more, swam and invited one of her other friends over. We stayed up really late last night watching TV and giggling in bed over nothing.
Today we woke up late, ate a late breakfast, swam, got sunburned and went out to dinner (which in all seriousness wasnt very nice) and then I drove back to my brothers and dropped his car off and here I am....
I can't wait to get home because I feel a really strong separation anxiety from my doggy, Billie! I love my puppy doggy!! :(
I hope you all had an amazing Christmas and were able to remember the true meaning of it :)
God Bless,
Jess xxx
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Higher lifted up we bless Your name.
In your Holiness, we find redemption song
In your majesty, I find where I belong
Hosanna, you are Holy and exalted
Hosanna, you are higher lifted up
Hosanna, you are worthy of all praise
We worship You...
One of my dearest friend's grandmother passed away at around 4am this morning. Please can you keep her family in your prayers.
At about 3am, Mum and I are leaving to drive to Sydney for Christmas day (it's about 14 hr drive from where we live in Victoria.) It's so hard to split Christmas between two parents, but this year it's going to be exceptionally hard with my brother (24yrs) finally being settled and engaged with his own house (last yr he was with a different girl and still living with Dad and I at home) and doing his own thing with his fiance's family.
I expected for some silly reason to go to my Aunts house around lunch, after having morning with my Dad and his long-term girlfriend. And at my Aunts house my brother would turn up with his beautiful fiance and her daughter, and I'd spend the rest of the day there with them and my Mum. That would have been my perfect day, anyway... but alas not. My brother is having Christmas at his house with his fiance's entire family. I was invited there for lunch. My Mum and Aunt are going elsewhere for lunch and my Dad is going up the coast right after lunch. So I'm a bit in limbo as to how to spend it. My Mum then decided she would have lunch too at my brothers... but then found out my Dad would be there, so she went back to plan A.
It's not even like my parents hate each other or had some disgusting, selfish and messy divorce. It wasn't anything like that, they're mostly quite civil, just in the past year or so things have been awkward. Weird. And yet, selfish. Anyway.
So I'm a bit bothered by it all and it's really stressful. I dont want to go to my brother's house on my own cause I dont know anyone and I always seem to commit social suicide wherever I go, so unless my Dad is going, I won't. The plan for now is that I'll stay the night at my Aunt's have Xmas morning with my Mum, go to my brothers (if my Dad is there) and then go to my bestfriends house in the afternoon.
My bestfriend is the closest person in the entire world to me. She knows me the best. (Well, not as well as Jesus knows me!) Going to her place will be a massive wind down, thank the Good Lord. I need to just relax about it all, there's no point stressing. I also want to make a visit to church, but because I don't have a car while I'm in Sydney, it probably wont get to happen. :(
Anyway, I hope everyone has an amazing and merry Christmas filled with lots of blessings, joy and love. I hope that we'll all remember the day for it's true meaning and will keep safe!
I won't be back for about 4 or 5 days! God Bless!
xx
Jess
In your majesty, I find where I belong
Hosanna, you are Holy and exalted
Hosanna, you are higher lifted up
Hosanna, you are worthy of all praise
We worship You...
One of my dearest friend's grandmother passed away at around 4am this morning. Please can you keep her family in your prayers.
At about 3am, Mum and I are leaving to drive to Sydney for Christmas day (it's about 14 hr drive from where we live in Victoria.) It's so hard to split Christmas between two parents, but this year it's going to be exceptionally hard with my brother (24yrs) finally being settled and engaged with his own house (last yr he was with a different girl and still living with Dad and I at home) and doing his own thing with his fiance's family.
I expected for some silly reason to go to my Aunts house around lunch, after having morning with my Dad and his long-term girlfriend. And at my Aunts house my brother would turn up with his beautiful fiance and her daughter, and I'd spend the rest of the day there with them and my Mum. That would have been my perfect day, anyway... but alas not. My brother is having Christmas at his house with his fiance's entire family. I was invited there for lunch. My Mum and Aunt are going elsewhere for lunch and my Dad is going up the coast right after lunch. So I'm a bit in limbo as to how to spend it. My Mum then decided she would have lunch too at my brothers... but then found out my Dad would be there, so she went back to plan A.
It's not even like my parents hate each other or had some disgusting, selfish and messy divorce. It wasn't anything like that, they're mostly quite civil, just in the past year or so things have been awkward. Weird. And yet, selfish. Anyway.
So I'm a bit bothered by it all and it's really stressful. I dont want to go to my brother's house on my own cause I dont know anyone and I always seem to commit social suicide wherever I go, so unless my Dad is going, I won't. The plan for now is that I'll stay the night at my Aunt's have Xmas morning with my Mum, go to my brothers (if my Dad is there) and then go to my bestfriends house in the afternoon.
My bestfriend is the closest person in the entire world to me. She knows me the best. (Well, not as well as Jesus knows me!) Going to her place will be a massive wind down, thank the Good Lord. I need to just relax about it all, there's no point stressing. I also want to make a visit to church, but because I don't have a car while I'm in Sydney, it probably wont get to happen. :(
Anyway, I hope everyone has an amazing and merry Christmas filled with lots of blessings, joy and love. I hope that we'll all remember the day for it's true meaning and will keep safe!
I won't be back for about 4 or 5 days! God Bless!
xx
Jess
My head hurts...
I had a really sore tummy all night and so I went to bed early (just after midnight) fell asleep for a bit... now here I am. I hate having screwed up sleeping patterns. My tummy ache is feeling a bit better (and so it should more than 5hrs on) and I decided that I'd steal thecubiclereverend's idea to share photographs through the flickr thingo. So, if you wanna see some terribly fanatical and nutty shots of me galloping around California for Michael Jackson, thinking I'm a hardcore thugged out gangsta who's starring in a hardcore movie, or if you just wanna browse some pictures of me and my lovely friends and pets, then click to see my photographs.
I also want to plug three people who I have already began to love a lot since starting at blogger just a week ago. :)
Carmel - She embraced my journal the first entry I made and I had been viewing hers for about a week prior. I love her posts and we share an affinity for beautiful kitties and other animals. :) And I read that she's a qualified blood sucker... and that works out well for me since blood's always being stolen from me and my last pathologist made my vein collapse! Oh yeah! Carmel is so sweet and lovely and I'm proud to have her on my blog roll already!
Antonia - We're the same age and she's from the UK and she has such staunch faith in The Catholic Church that I'm left a bit astounded. I aspire to some day have this kind of unfaltering faith and dedication to God, and with all these new positive and embracing bloggers around me, I think I won't have a problem :) Already I'm on her blog roll and she's on mine. I hope we'll become good friends :)
The Cubicle Reverend - I love someone with an awesome sense of humour and a good sense of wit about them. From reading his blogs, I've learned that he is both of those things and more! He's intelligent and his blog is full of other great bits and pieces and links to awesome readings. I'm honored to be a cubehead, and to have been welcomed so quickly in to the cubisphere! :)
And so now I can hear my dog snoring her absolute head off on my bed and so perhaps its time for bed. But before I go, I have a few questions -- maybe someone could help me with them. I apologise if they are stupid, but the knowledge won't simply fall in to my lap! :)
Firstly, I haven't done a confession before. I would like to. I didn't exactly know what to expect but I found this nice little piece and I felt a little clearer on the matter. The thing that confuses me is that it says we do not need to confess things that are not mortal sins. My question is, is what is the difference between a mortal sin and something that is not a mortal sin?
Secondly, I asked my Mum this (no, I have desire to hide my faith anymore, and so I'm comfortable with it, and she mostly pretends I'm not religious -- it works nicely for both of us.) question earlier but of course she didn't know the answer. What is the difference between protestants and catholics?
Lastly, I hear the priest in church talking about The Roman Missils (sp?) and making references to it. What is this and how is it relevant?
If you can help, I'd be largely appreciative!
Oh and why does my side bar information turn up at the bottom of my screen now?? This displeases me immensely. >=(
I also want to plug three people who I have already began to love a lot since starting at blogger just a week ago. :)
Carmel - She embraced my journal the first entry I made and I had been viewing hers for about a week prior. I love her posts and we share an affinity for beautiful kitties and other animals. :) And I read that she's a qualified blood sucker... and that works out well for me since blood's always being stolen from me and my last pathologist made my vein collapse! Oh yeah! Carmel is so sweet and lovely and I'm proud to have her on my blog roll already!
Antonia - We're the same age and she's from the UK and she has such staunch faith in The Catholic Church that I'm left a bit astounded. I aspire to some day have this kind of unfaltering faith and dedication to God, and with all these new positive and embracing bloggers around me, I think I won't have a problem :) Already I'm on her blog roll and she's on mine. I hope we'll become good friends :)
The Cubicle Reverend - I love someone with an awesome sense of humour and a good sense of wit about them. From reading his blogs, I've learned that he is both of those things and more! He's intelligent and his blog is full of other great bits and pieces and links to awesome readings. I'm honored to be a cubehead, and to have been welcomed so quickly in to the cubisphere! :)
And so now I can hear my dog snoring her absolute head off on my bed and so perhaps its time for bed. But before I go, I have a few questions -- maybe someone could help me with them. I apologise if they are stupid, but the knowledge won't simply fall in to my lap! :)
Firstly, I haven't done a confession before. I would like to. I didn't exactly know what to expect but I found this nice little piece and I felt a little clearer on the matter. The thing that confuses me is that it says we do not need to confess things that are not mortal sins. My question is, is what is the difference between a mortal sin and something that is not a mortal sin?
Secondly, I asked my Mum this (no, I have desire to hide my faith anymore, and so I'm comfortable with it, and she mostly pretends I'm not religious -- it works nicely for both of us.) question earlier but of course she didn't know the answer. What is the difference between protestants and catholics?
Lastly, I hear the priest in church talking about The Roman Missils (sp?) and making references to it. What is this and how is it relevant?
If you can help, I'd be largely appreciative!
Oh and why does my side bar information turn up at the bottom of my screen now?? This displeases me immensely. >=(
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
A terrible addiction.
Well, I know there's addictions that could be much worse -- but blogging has always been addictive. I've had a blog since I was 16, way back in 1998. It's funny when I read back on the entries because they were so angry and so filled with heavy teenage angst that I liked to console myself that I never harbored. What a joke.
Today has been one of those days where I just didn't want to force myself to get out of bed. I could hear the wind blowing hard outside my window, my beautiful Billie was nosing at my arm to wake me up to be let outside to pee, and I just didn't want to. I'm an insomniac, and last night I went to bed before midnight and finished reading my trashy Nicole Richie novel (yeah, that's right. I own it. It was a birthday gift, in my defense and it wasn't too bad, surprisingly.) so I had no excuse for sleeping in so late.
I hate to be bored, but that's I am -- hence me boring everyone with a non-eventful blog entry. The first thing I did after my shower was jump online because there's nothing else to do in this ghost town! I was supposed to pick up a Christmas gift for my friend, but I told myself I'd do it tomorrow. (which is what I told myself yesterday when I couldn't be bothered getting out of bed before 11.) I'm turning in to a sloth.
I was having a conversation with a friend the other night about what type of things I want to change in my life, or rather what things I need to change in my life. And they're not massive things, but they are things that I recognise that I do that could be damaging to other people, and make me feel really bad.
I swear a lot. It's sometimes like breathing, that's how easily it comes to me. I look like I'm 15, curse words coming from a little girl is not at all becoming. There's nothing worse than seeing a young girl, pretty and sweet with a whole load of gutter talk coming from her lips. Infact, when I see it, I crinkle my nose and shoot a look of repugnance. It's cheap and tacky and turns me off. So why am I letting myself do the same?
I think bad things about people - some that I know, some that I don't. I was watching TV at a friends house cynically hurling insults at just about anyone who appeared on the screen. My friend commented on what a mean bitch I was, and we laughed... but-- in that instance I felt a hard slap upon the realisation that, it was a joke that thinly vieled the truth. I do it a lot -- when people say things that I deem as stupid, ask stupid questions or do something to annoy me, I conjure up the most arrogant and hateful things in my head about the person. Or, I make some sarky remark, that usually the other party doesn't entirely get. I hate myself for even thinking badly about the attire of someone walking down the street. How dare I be so judgemental?
And isn't it ironic that my self-esteem is generally so low and my biggest fear is being in public or amoungst a load of people that I don't know because I am frightened of being judged or of people thinking that I'm a dud? (That's dud, not dude.)
My friend told me that these are normal things that everyone does, that it's human nature. She (from an unreligious stand point) told me that God would understand. But I disagree. Our Lord Jesus tells us not to judge or else we shall be judged. I don't want to judge other's because, I myself, do not like to be unjustly judged. And it's not normal behavior at all - it's just a pattern of behavior that our twisted society let's us believe is normal -- just like everything else.
Of course I tell God I am sorry what I do, I ask him for the strength to curb my dark thoughts and unfair judgements, but mostly I find myself just doing it again. And I hate myself for it. I know I have made a bit of an improvement. My forked tongue isn't so forked anymore. I find forgiveness comes a lot easier than it did in the past, but sometimes the devil still fills my head with spite.
I do go on, don't I? I guess my point is, is that I dislike how these things can all be accepted as normal behavior just because everybody does it. It's like drinking alcohol, being promiscuious and doing drugs just because it's what society tells us normal behavior. It's not. I don't like to be given the raised eyebrow when I tell people I'm a virgin or that I don't believe in pre-maritual sex, or drink until I get soooooooOOooOO traaShed!!!!1111one. It's annoying and patronising.
But yet, I'm still doing the same, just on other levels (and possibly worse, because I know what I'm doing is wrong, but I keep doing it.)
Sigh.
And so on top of that, I feel that today I am a traitor to my Guy Sebastian post-teenage fandom, because I have been listening to the new Shannon Noll (his 2003 Australian Idol arch nemises) album, non stop. And did I mention my new crush on the lead singer of Taxiride, Jason Singh? Oh yeah. I wonder who will be my object of affection next week.
Today has been one of those days where I just didn't want to force myself to get out of bed. I could hear the wind blowing hard outside my window, my beautiful Billie was nosing at my arm to wake me up to be let outside to pee, and I just didn't want to. I'm an insomniac, and last night I went to bed before midnight and finished reading my trashy Nicole Richie novel (yeah, that's right. I own it. It was a birthday gift, in my defense and it wasn't too bad, surprisingly.) so I had no excuse for sleeping in so late.
I hate to be bored, but that's I am -- hence me boring everyone with a non-eventful blog entry. The first thing I did after my shower was jump online because there's nothing else to do in this ghost town! I was supposed to pick up a Christmas gift for my friend, but I told myself I'd do it tomorrow. (which is what I told myself yesterday when I couldn't be bothered getting out of bed before 11.) I'm turning in to a sloth.
I was having a conversation with a friend the other night about what type of things I want to change in my life, or rather what things I need to change in my life. And they're not massive things, but they are things that I recognise that I do that could be damaging to other people, and make me feel really bad.
I swear a lot. It's sometimes like breathing, that's how easily it comes to me. I look like I'm 15, curse words coming from a little girl is not at all becoming. There's nothing worse than seeing a young girl, pretty and sweet with a whole load of gutter talk coming from her lips. Infact, when I see it, I crinkle my nose and shoot a look of repugnance. It's cheap and tacky and turns me off. So why am I letting myself do the same?
I think bad things about people - some that I know, some that I don't. I was watching TV at a friends house cynically hurling insults at just about anyone who appeared on the screen. My friend commented on what a mean bitch I was, and we laughed... but-- in that instance I felt a hard slap upon the realisation that, it was a joke that thinly vieled the truth. I do it a lot -- when people say things that I deem as stupid, ask stupid questions or do something to annoy me, I conjure up the most arrogant and hateful things in my head about the person. Or, I make some sarky remark, that usually the other party doesn't entirely get. I hate myself for even thinking badly about the attire of someone walking down the street. How dare I be so judgemental?
And isn't it ironic that my self-esteem is generally so low and my biggest fear is being in public or amoungst a load of people that I don't know because I am frightened of being judged or of people thinking that I'm a dud? (That's dud, not dude.)
My friend told me that these are normal things that everyone does, that it's human nature. She (from an unreligious stand point) told me that God would understand. But I disagree. Our Lord Jesus tells us not to judge or else we shall be judged. I don't want to judge other's because, I myself, do not like to be unjustly judged. And it's not normal behavior at all - it's just a pattern of behavior that our twisted society let's us believe is normal -- just like everything else.
Of course I tell God I am sorry what I do, I ask him for the strength to curb my dark thoughts and unfair judgements, but mostly I find myself just doing it again. And I hate myself for it. I know I have made a bit of an improvement. My forked tongue isn't so forked anymore. I find forgiveness comes a lot easier than it did in the past, but sometimes the devil still fills my head with spite.
I do go on, don't I? I guess my point is, is that I dislike how these things can all be accepted as normal behavior just because everybody does it. It's like drinking alcohol, being promiscuious and doing drugs just because it's what society tells us normal behavior. It's not. I don't like to be given the raised eyebrow when I tell people I'm a virgin or that I don't believe in pre-maritual sex, or drink until I get soooooooOOooOO traaShed!!!!1111one. It's annoying and patronising.
But yet, I'm still doing the same, just on other levels (and possibly worse, because I know what I'm doing is wrong, but I keep doing it.)
Sigh.
And so on top of that, I feel that today I am a traitor to my Guy Sebastian post-teenage fandom, because I have been listening to the new Shannon Noll (his 2003 Australian Idol arch nemises) album, non stop. And did I mention my new crush on the lead singer of Taxiride, Jason Singh? Oh yeah. I wonder who will be my object of affection next week.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Oh and...
Would someone mind telling me why on earth last night I dreamed that Bebe Winans wanted to give me a record deal after hearing me sing a Latin Hymn at a Catholic church service when I can't hold a note to save my life, and I haven't ever really given this man or his music a real thought, but rather have seen his wife Cece in concert once-- and again, really don't give her a lot of thought either? ... What exactly does this mean?! Some covered up, subconscious aspiration to be a gospel singer? Who knows! I'm odd.
Always faithful...
It was all kind of sprung on me quite unexpectedly, but a grave feeling was enshrouding me at the time, and I knew it wasn't just nothing. It's so difficult to have adult thoughts while still in the body of a child-- it's difficult to know what is right and what is wrong and who's beliefs are legitimate and whose are in vain. The resident specialist came to visit us in the emergency room just after my poor thin and frail wrist had been violated massively. It was all in the hands of an incompetent doctor who had failed quadruple times to thread an IV in to my veins. After surviving multiple surgeries in the past, I had been quite accustomed to the hospital life-style just as so many other little survivors had. I hadn't, on the other hand, been quite prepared for this.
I was at the age where I was on the border of still having those child-like and innocent qualities, but they were just inches away from leaving me. I had, up til this point, known that even though I wasn't the same as every other kid at school, I could still feel as mostly carefree and as immortal as every one else. It all came to a blinding halt though. I was being prepped for a massive blood transfusion and in the time span of about 30 minutes of arriving to the hospital, I realized that my life was about to change forever. The something that felt very, very wrong -- was indeed something very, very wrong. I felt the kind of fear that I had never felt before, I was infinitely scared of dying, a feeling that suddenly struck me like a tonne of bricks.
Death.
I'd never considered it before. What would happen if I wasn't alive anymore? How would I cope without my family? What if I had commit too many of these things... what did they call them? Oh right ... sins. And how did God work anyway? This thing about the Jesus guy.... was it really true? Oh Lord, I don't want to be wrong.
And so with fear brideling my heart, and a doctor that lamented the complications of my 12 year-old body to my shaken mother, I fled the room, mumbling an excuse to use the bathroom. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to know that I was going to die if I continued to haemmorhage. I pulled down the lid of the toilet seat and sat down. I plugged my ears with my forefingers, careful not to hurt my already bruising wrist, or knock the temporarily capped-off, canular. I fought the tears back so hard, but they defeated my attempts. So I sat and cried and prayed to this person that I had never known or bothered to learn anything about.
I started out saying, "Dear God, please forgive me for all the bad things that I have done. I don't want to die. I don't want to be sick. I want to be healthy. Please God, make that happen for me." I went on asking him to bless love on to everyone possibly that I knew, including distant cousins and family that I'd never met. All I could ascertain at 12, was that God was a vengeful being who was punishing me for every bad thing that I had ever committed in my life. And I truly was sorry.
I was still too proud to ask my family questions about God, for fear of their scorn or incase they made me feel stupid. I didn't have anyone to ask. So I just prayed every single night. My transfusions went throughout the night, possibly the longest night I have ever lived through -- if that makes sense. I was scared to sleep for fear of not waking up. For months afterward, still with doctors scratching heads, I prayed. Morning and night, almost as if it was some fanatical and superstitious regime and if I forgot, I would pray doubly hard before bed.
I had no idea why I was praying or who I was praying to-- but it comforted me and that encouraged my belief, if only just fleeting.
The nightmare didn't end. I began to fear a visit from the doctor doing his rounds every morning and while they shared the bad news with my parents, I hid in the ward bathroom, ears plugged so I couldn't hear (even though I caught bits and pieces of things like, "50% chance", and "no gaurantee", etc) and prayed. Sometimes if nothing else, I just prayed for the doctor to leave.
After awhile they came to their conclusions as to what caused my haemmorhage. I needed a bypass surgery and since I have missing vital organs already, the surgery would be as tricky as it could be. I was horrified. It was to happen 2 months down the track. No school, no going out, no doing anything that would induce more stress on my body.
Hello couch potato.
I prayed morning and night still. It turned in to something that was just words, I did it because I felt obliged, if I didn't God would let me die. I think it was more superstitious than faithful. But something was encouraging me to pray, something had lit a spark in me to begin with to even give God a thought, especially after coming from such a Godless background. I even changed my ways for awhile. For a 12 year-old, I had a pretty foul mouth (thanks to my older brother and trying to fit in with his friends!) and listened to some pretty outlandish music (gangsta rap! I thought I was Tupac's best homie! ha!) but I stopped all of that. I tried only to be nice to everyone because I didn't want to feel God's wrath anymore.
I felt constantly fearful that at any second I could just keel over. Memories of crying and wondering why, when all my friends were so happy and carefree always seem to make me laugh now.
The surgery went well. God didn't let me down. He gave me an obstacle with a specific purpose. While he gave me fear he also gave me strength and while he took away my mobility temporarily, he gave me the courage to not give up on the will to keep fighting through medical bout after medical bout. He also gave me the wiseness of someone double my age, and way of viewing the world forevermore that set me apart from my peers. Sometimes I don't recognise this as the blessing that it is. Sometimes, I feel God left me jaded and cynical of other people's problems as they are not as life and death as a lot of mine have been. Those feelings shame me.
My faith didn't continue for too much longer after my recovery. I thanked God for his grace and ran from it because it was too hard for me to live in faith with such a judgemental family who joked about religious types. "Thanks God, see ya!" But Praise God that he tried again 10 years on.
When I think of this, it reminds me of how I sometimes (in my more cynical state-of-mind) feel that prayer is futile. What's the point of it? ... but funnily enough when I'm down and out, no one else can help me besides my Lord. How dare I turn him away when things are great? I make the effort to Praise Him more for the good, and just trust and open my heart more when they aren't.
So many wonderful things happen in my life and sometimes I forget who is responsible for it. Silly me for being so self-absorbed at times that I fool myself in to believing, if only for a split second, that good graces came to me just because I made myself who I am. It's laughable really.
And this friends, is one of the most beautiful gifts that God graced me with;
I was at the age where I was on the border of still having those child-like and innocent qualities, but they were just inches away from leaving me. I had, up til this point, known that even though I wasn't the same as every other kid at school, I could still feel as mostly carefree and as immortal as every one else. It all came to a blinding halt though. I was being prepped for a massive blood transfusion and in the time span of about 30 minutes of arriving to the hospital, I realized that my life was about to change forever. The something that felt very, very wrong -- was indeed something very, very wrong. I felt the kind of fear that I had never felt before, I was infinitely scared of dying, a feeling that suddenly struck me like a tonne of bricks.
Death.
I'd never considered it before. What would happen if I wasn't alive anymore? How would I cope without my family? What if I had commit too many of these things... what did they call them? Oh right ... sins. And how did God work anyway? This thing about the Jesus guy.... was it really true? Oh Lord, I don't want to be wrong.
And so with fear brideling my heart, and a doctor that lamented the complications of my 12 year-old body to my shaken mother, I fled the room, mumbling an excuse to use the bathroom. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to know that I was going to die if I continued to haemmorhage. I pulled down the lid of the toilet seat and sat down. I plugged my ears with my forefingers, careful not to hurt my already bruising wrist, or knock the temporarily capped-off, canular. I fought the tears back so hard, but they defeated my attempts. So I sat and cried and prayed to this person that I had never known or bothered to learn anything about.
I started out saying, "Dear God, please forgive me for all the bad things that I have done. I don't want to die. I don't want to be sick. I want to be healthy. Please God, make that happen for me." I went on asking him to bless love on to everyone possibly that I knew, including distant cousins and family that I'd never met. All I could ascertain at 12, was that God was a vengeful being who was punishing me for every bad thing that I had ever committed in my life. And I truly was sorry.
I was still too proud to ask my family questions about God, for fear of their scorn or incase they made me feel stupid. I didn't have anyone to ask. So I just prayed every single night. My transfusions went throughout the night, possibly the longest night I have ever lived through -- if that makes sense. I was scared to sleep for fear of not waking up. For months afterward, still with doctors scratching heads, I prayed. Morning and night, almost as if it was some fanatical and superstitious regime and if I forgot, I would pray doubly hard before bed.
I had no idea why I was praying or who I was praying to-- but it comforted me and that encouraged my belief, if only just fleeting.
The nightmare didn't end. I began to fear a visit from the doctor doing his rounds every morning and while they shared the bad news with my parents, I hid in the ward bathroom, ears plugged so I couldn't hear (even though I caught bits and pieces of things like, "50% chance", and "no gaurantee", etc) and prayed. Sometimes if nothing else, I just prayed for the doctor to leave.
After awhile they came to their conclusions as to what caused my haemmorhage. I needed a bypass surgery and since I have missing vital organs already, the surgery would be as tricky as it could be. I was horrified. It was to happen 2 months down the track. No school, no going out, no doing anything that would induce more stress on my body.
Hello couch potato.
I prayed morning and night still. It turned in to something that was just words, I did it because I felt obliged, if I didn't God would let me die. I think it was more superstitious than faithful. But something was encouraging me to pray, something had lit a spark in me to begin with to even give God a thought, especially after coming from such a Godless background. I even changed my ways for awhile. For a 12 year-old, I had a pretty foul mouth (thanks to my older brother and trying to fit in with his friends!) and listened to some pretty outlandish music (gangsta rap! I thought I was Tupac's best homie! ha!) but I stopped all of that. I tried only to be nice to everyone because I didn't want to feel God's wrath anymore.
I felt constantly fearful that at any second I could just keel over. Memories of crying and wondering why, when all my friends were so happy and carefree always seem to make me laugh now.
The surgery went well. God didn't let me down. He gave me an obstacle with a specific purpose. While he gave me fear he also gave me strength and while he took away my mobility temporarily, he gave me the courage to not give up on the will to keep fighting through medical bout after medical bout. He also gave me the wiseness of someone double my age, and way of viewing the world forevermore that set me apart from my peers. Sometimes I don't recognise this as the blessing that it is. Sometimes, I feel God left me jaded and cynical of other people's problems as they are not as life and death as a lot of mine have been. Those feelings shame me.
My faith didn't continue for too much longer after my recovery. I thanked God for his grace and ran from it because it was too hard for me to live in faith with such a judgemental family who joked about religious types. "Thanks God, see ya!" But Praise God that he tried again 10 years on.
When I think of this, it reminds me of how I sometimes (in my more cynical state-of-mind) feel that prayer is futile. What's the point of it? ... but funnily enough when I'm down and out, no one else can help me besides my Lord. How dare I turn him away when things are great? I make the effort to Praise Him more for the good, and just trust and open my heart more when they aren't.
So many wonderful things happen in my life and sometimes I forget who is responsible for it. Silly me for being so self-absorbed at times that I fool myself in to believing, if only for a split second, that good graces came to me just because I made myself who I am. It's laughable really.
And this friends, is one of the most beautiful gifts that God graced me with;
Her name is Billie. Yes, that's right. As in Billie Jean. Who looked more like a movie scene. With every head that turned with eyes that dreamed of being the one. Who would dance, on the floor, in the round. She's my pretty baby with the high heels on.... and so on and so forth. Excuse me-- poor comic relief for such a heavy post.
Take care and God Bless you all who read this.
Jess
Monday, December 19, 2005
Just quickly!
About 3 weeks ago I ordered Divine Mercy In My Soul which is the Diary of St. Faustina as I had been reading some of it online (and Im not much of an online reader so much as I am a reader of physical books) and it's estimated time of delivery was january or february of 2006 (oh the joy of living in Australia!!) but I received it today!! What a great surprise! I am so pleased!
Not only that, but my Divine Mercy picture also came!
Thanks Lord Jesus! :D
Not only that, but my Divine Mercy picture also came!
Thanks Lord Jesus! :D
Seek And You Will Find
During my very first true and interested conversation about God with another Catholic, a passage of the bible was recited to me. I couldn't remember it word for word, but at the time it meant so much to me. A couple of weeks later I bought my own bible and without having any idea where I should begin reading, I flipped open the page very casually during the train ride back to my house and found the exact quote that had been recited to me;
"Keep on asking, and you will be given what you ask for. Keep on looking, and you will find. Keep on knocking , and the door will be open. For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And the door is opened to everyone who knocks." - Matthew 7:7-8
I felt amazed that this passage had simply fallen in to my lap as I had been struggling so hard to remember it. I felt like it was God reminding me of his persistence with me. I found this passage to be helpful in reminding me that nothing would be kept from me. It gave me confidence and strength in seeking to find answers to everything that didn't clearly make too much sense just yet. It made me feel less guilty about impeding on the lives of other Christian's by asking for their help in guiding me along the right path, to help me understand.
It basically summed up how God and I had made friends. At first it was He, who was knocking. I was doing my part as usual, pretending I wasn't home. Closing the curtains, hiding under the table, fearing His company or what he sought-after in me. My Lord is unrelenting and persistent, though. He never gave up on me. He found other means of unlocking my door - He was a bit tricky about it, a little mysterious if you will -- but I think it was my Grandmother who once told me that God worked in mysterious ways. How right she was!
Once the door to my heart was ajar, He let outside forces do the rest. Upon unlatching the lock to my heart, I took a peep around to see who had been knocking, but no one was there. I was confused. I stepped outside, took a bigger look around -- everything outside of that door had changed. Everything that seemed familiar and normal seemed dark and hard to face. It was almost as if I could see evil working overtime all of a sudden. Things that seemed perfectly acceptable in society, seemed no longer. I ran back inside, and shut the door until I felt safe.
God's game of knock-and-run carried on for a little while until I was coerced by an unknown force to again, step outside of what I knew and take a good look around me and try to figure out what and who it was pulling at my heart strings. I started to do a bit of digging myself, followed by some door knocking. Surprisingly, people answered - they heeded my desire to know why this mysterious fellow was continually disturbing my self-absorbed and surface-happy life!
The answers that I'd been searching for, I had struck like a pot of Gold at a rainbow after a dark and bleak storm. The smile that filled my lips was one of pure gladness, of light and of love and of a superior knowing that God loves me.
And you know what? Nothing else matters anymore. The depression went away, the anxiety filling my heart seemed to dissipate and the loneliness that encumbered me is also no longer - because God is always with me, and I can never ever be alone. The only times that these feelings come back to me, is when I start to stray from Him.
But with Him, I can never be unhappy.
Praise God!
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Forgiving others to be forgiven by God.
I was attending Hillsong AOG church in Sydney earlier this year and was soaking up the atmosphere like a sponge. I like that church, I really do! The music was amazing and I thought the atmosphere was just breathtaking at times. To look around and know that these hundreds, and I suppose sometimes, thousands, of people were here to worship Jesus Christ -- wow.
For me though, something wasn't right about it. I guess it's just a personal thing. I felt out of place if I didn't raise my hands up for the Lord, if I didn't clap to the music or if I didn't jump for Jesus when everyone else was jumping for Jesus. I knew I shouldn't have been feeling like that, but I did. I didn't like watching alter calls. I didn't really understand why you would have to "accept Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior" if I'd already been baptised (which to my knowledge, washes away all your sins just as devout Christians tell you "accepting Jesus in to your heart" will.)
I continued going simply because I didn't know what else to do, nor did I know anyone else who went to another church. I liked Hillsong because I could get swallowed up in the crowd. I'm ashamed to say that I'm a rather unsociable (mostly just because I am shy and feel socially inept.) and find it hard to respond well to people that I don't know. I was scared of going to a small-type of congregation in case someone would approach me. Silly, I know!
I wanted to go to a more traditional type of Mass and see how that worked for me, as I was starting to read more in to Catholicism (as I was baptised Catholic at two yrs) and to me, it made more sense.
In september I found out that one of my closest aunts was dying of lung cancer. I informed a friend and asked for his prayers, to which he willingly obliged and prayed with me. The night after I went back to church, feeling as though I really needed to be close to God. I waited and waited for a moment where we could pray silently -- but no such time came. I remember in that particular service, we were told by the pastor who and what to pray for - to pray out loud! he requested.
Everyone was praying loudly including the pastor in to the microphone. I felt so distracted that I couldn't even begin to think of what I wanted to ask God for, and before I knew it, the prayers were over and the choir had began to sing their awesome pop-rock worship songs. I felt really disappointed that the place designated for prayer, wasn't really what it seemed. And as I looked around at everyone "jumping for Jesus" with their hands raised to the roof ... I kept thinking of how... fake, it all seemed. I thought about how I had raised my hands at moments because I didn't want to be judged by the people standing around me. I wondered if anyone else felt the same. I don't want to judge anyone's faith or anyone's church at all -- but for me it wasn't right. And perhaps it had something to do with what was going on in my life -- but nothing made sense there.
I had confided in a devout Christian friend that my Aunt wasn't religious at all and that I was scared for her soul. I talked to her about my belief in purgatory to which she blankly told me it didn't exist and that I would just have to accept that some people were going to hell and other's weren't. This deeply disturbed me and made me take a step away, thinking that Jesus could never turn away someone. I prayed with ferver that she could "accept Him" before she died.
I confided in another Catholic friend who told me about The Divine Mercy Chaplet. This gave me such strong hope. I didn't understand it at first, but since my Aunt died, (only about a week later) I have began reading and learning all about The Divine Mercy and St Faustina Kowalska of Poland. The Divine Mercy brings to us many miracles especially to those who are facing death. This is why I have so many links to it. St. Faustina is an amazing and couragous woman who spoke her entire life to Jesus, who kept a diary of her conversations and revelations of our Lord's love for us.
One of the most profound things I came across while reading over some of the miracles of the Divine Mercy was something that Jesus told to Stanley Villavicencio; "You cannot appreciate the beauty of My Mercy unless you experience the misery of sin" and more importantly, that the only sin that God will never forgive is refusing to believe that he can forgive.
This was poignant to me, as my biggest fears when coming in to faith was that God could never possibly forgive my sins for they were too big and too shameful for me to ever have the courage to confess before anyone, let alone my Lord.
Now there is a joy in my heart upon knowing that I should celebrate the confessing of my sins, because Jesus will show me his mercy by forgiving me for things that I am truly sorry for. Whomever I will confess my sins to, is merely the middleman, washing them away on behalf of my Lord and giving me a penance.
And this speaks volumes to me -- if my Lord can forgive me for the things that I feel are almost unforgivable, then, to live In Christ, shouldn't I be doing the same? Forgiving other's for the things that they have inflicted upon me? The answer is clearly yes-- and in order to be forgiven, I must learn to forgive others.
That's all for now, but I do have a prayer request for my dog, however silly it might seem. She's not very well. She's not eating nor is she really drinking anything and I'm very worried about her.
For me though, something wasn't right about it. I guess it's just a personal thing. I felt out of place if I didn't raise my hands up for the Lord, if I didn't clap to the music or if I didn't jump for Jesus when everyone else was jumping for Jesus. I knew I shouldn't have been feeling like that, but I did. I didn't like watching alter calls. I didn't really understand why you would have to "accept Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior" if I'd already been baptised (which to my knowledge, washes away all your sins just as devout Christians tell you "accepting Jesus in to your heart" will.)
I continued going simply because I didn't know what else to do, nor did I know anyone else who went to another church. I liked Hillsong because I could get swallowed up in the crowd. I'm ashamed to say that I'm a rather unsociable (mostly just because I am shy and feel socially inept.) and find it hard to respond well to people that I don't know. I was scared of going to a small-type of congregation in case someone would approach me. Silly, I know!
I wanted to go to a more traditional type of Mass and see how that worked for me, as I was starting to read more in to Catholicism (as I was baptised Catholic at two yrs) and to me, it made more sense.
In september I found out that one of my closest aunts was dying of lung cancer. I informed a friend and asked for his prayers, to which he willingly obliged and prayed with me. The night after I went back to church, feeling as though I really needed to be close to God. I waited and waited for a moment where we could pray silently -- but no such time came. I remember in that particular service, we were told by the pastor who and what to pray for - to pray out loud! he requested.
Everyone was praying loudly including the pastor in to the microphone. I felt so distracted that I couldn't even begin to think of what I wanted to ask God for, and before I knew it, the prayers were over and the choir had began to sing their awesome pop-rock worship songs. I felt really disappointed that the place designated for prayer, wasn't really what it seemed. And as I looked around at everyone "jumping for Jesus" with their hands raised to the roof ... I kept thinking of how... fake, it all seemed. I thought about how I had raised my hands at moments because I didn't want to be judged by the people standing around me. I wondered if anyone else felt the same. I don't want to judge anyone's faith or anyone's church at all -- but for me it wasn't right. And perhaps it had something to do with what was going on in my life -- but nothing made sense there.
I had confided in a devout Christian friend that my Aunt wasn't religious at all and that I was scared for her soul. I talked to her about my belief in purgatory to which she blankly told me it didn't exist and that I would just have to accept that some people were going to hell and other's weren't. This deeply disturbed me and made me take a step away, thinking that Jesus could never turn away someone. I prayed with ferver that she could "accept Him" before she died.
I confided in another Catholic friend who told me about The Divine Mercy Chaplet. This gave me such strong hope. I didn't understand it at first, but since my Aunt died, (only about a week later) I have began reading and learning all about The Divine Mercy and St Faustina Kowalska of Poland. The Divine Mercy brings to us many miracles especially to those who are facing death. This is why I have so many links to it. St. Faustina is an amazing and couragous woman who spoke her entire life to Jesus, who kept a diary of her conversations and revelations of our Lord's love for us.
One of the most profound things I came across while reading over some of the miracles of the Divine Mercy was something that Jesus told to Stanley Villavicencio; "You cannot appreciate the beauty of My Mercy unless you experience the misery of sin" and more importantly, that the only sin that God will never forgive is refusing to believe that he can forgive.
This was poignant to me, as my biggest fears when coming in to faith was that God could never possibly forgive my sins for they were too big and too shameful for me to ever have the courage to confess before anyone, let alone my Lord.
Now there is a joy in my heart upon knowing that I should celebrate the confessing of my sins, because Jesus will show me his mercy by forgiving me for things that I am truly sorry for. Whomever I will confess my sins to, is merely the middleman, washing them away on behalf of my Lord and giving me a penance.
And this speaks volumes to me -- if my Lord can forgive me for the things that I feel are almost unforgivable, then, to live In Christ, shouldn't I be doing the same? Forgiving other's for the things that they have inflicted upon me? The answer is clearly yes-- and in order to be forgiven, I must learn to forgive others.
That's all for now, but I do have a prayer request for my dog, however silly it might seem. She's not very well. She's not eating nor is she really drinking anything and I'm very worried about her.
Saturday, December 17, 2005
The reasons behind this...
I like to refer to my reversion to Catholicism the day that I "made friends with God again." I don't like the expression of "getting saved" or "accepting Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior.", because that doesn't feel real to me, and I always thought it sounded a bit too easy.
Never the less, since I picked up where I left off with God way back at my baptism almost 20 yrs ago, I have found things really difficult and hard to grasp in regards to pretty much everything. My views on life have dramatically changed, sometimes I find it hard to decipher between right and wrong and what would please my Lord and what would displease my Lord.
Since no one in my family is remotely religious, I also found it difficult to find someone who could help answer my questions-- especially the ones that I felt extremely stupid for even having to ask. I wished that there had of been a website or something that could answer all of the ending questions that seem to swim around my head, even now, almost an entire year on. So, the reason for this website is so I can share the knowledge of what I've learned about my Lord, my God and share it with people that too, have questions that they aren't sure who to direct them to.
If I am asked things that I don't necessarily know the answer to, I will strive to find it and in that way, I will also be learning more, myself. I will post links that I find worthy of reading and I will post a passage a day and explain what it means to me.
I hope that readers will find this interesting and will add this blog to their links.
God Bless you,
Seek2Find.
Never the less, since I picked up where I left off with God way back at my baptism almost 20 yrs ago, I have found things really difficult and hard to grasp in regards to pretty much everything. My views on life have dramatically changed, sometimes I find it hard to decipher between right and wrong and what would please my Lord and what would displease my Lord.
Since no one in my family is remotely religious, I also found it difficult to find someone who could help answer my questions-- especially the ones that I felt extremely stupid for even having to ask. I wished that there had of been a website or something that could answer all of the ending questions that seem to swim around my head, even now, almost an entire year on. So, the reason for this website is so I can share the knowledge of what I've learned about my Lord, my God and share it with people that too, have questions that they aren't sure who to direct them to.
If I am asked things that I don't necessarily know the answer to, I will strive to find it and in that way, I will also be learning more, myself. I will post links that I find worthy of reading and I will post a passage a day and explain what it means to me.
I hope that readers will find this interesting and will add this blog to their links.
God Bless you,
Seek2Find.
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