San Francisco Trip

Alan, my dad and I are off to Frisco. We are leaving right now!

My dad will stay with my sister and his grand kids. Alan and I will hit frisco first for a bowl of clam chowder. Then we are off to fremont, ca for a wedding.

Will post blogs through trip.

Peace!

Father -

help me to stop being a legalist.

I confess that I choose legalism on a constant basis.

I confess that I do not truly know how to live in your love.

I confess that discipline seems more holy than submission to your love.

I am stuck in bondage once again and don't know how to get out. I am afraid to get out. I am afraid to live.

I find myself once again as the apostle paul cired out -- I do what I do not want to do...and the very thing I do not want to do I do. And the very thing I hate I do. What I want to do I do not do.

Latinos and their Queen of Salsa

Celia Cruz died today.

I did not personally know her. But I knew her music.

Her death is a big ordeal for the Latino community and many others around the world.

Here is a link a to a news article. I choose this article because of its vast information, but also, the article offers six 30 second snippets of her music.

If you never heard her stuff, please take a listen. Particularly, listen to "Guantanamera" and "Vida es un Carnaval"

One thing to note: to hear the music you must have real player. If you don't have it, click here to download a free copy.

Thanks.

LIFE

"Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name
And it feels like home"

-- Madonna

These are the thoughts that ran through my head early one morning not too long ago. I found some comfort and solace in it. But my Christian upbringing say's "don't listen to what she says -- its the work of the devil...."

Quite frankly, I don't want to care much for some of the things that I have been taught.

I have been taught that "a Christian does this or a Christian does that...." I get so angry with the crap that I believe at times.

The things that my culture tells me about Christ and who he is just plain freakin' wrong at times. And then at other times it is completely right.

But here's the kicker...I think I am more mad at myself for being to sheepish, to afraid or just plain gluttonous with my thoughts.

Why the heck do I believe the lies that I believe? What not take the same energy and time and dedicate myself to believing in the truth?

For the last six months or so, I have had the following thought run through my head "if Drew Carey can find mental peace with who he is and can come to enjoy life and enjoy himself, why can't I?"

That probably makes no sense to any of you -- so I will try and explain. And after I explain and it still doesn't make sense, well then, maybe one day I can better explain it in person.

Here I go:

One day I heard about this dramatic story of how Drew Carey found healing from severe depression (Just for the record, i don't think I suffer from severe depression. I may, however, suffer with a mild to a medium case of depression -- who knows!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?).

Anywho, the story I heard on TV was all about how Drew Carey found solace and contentment in life through self-help books. Apparently, Drew Carey became a healed man! Whoopi freakin' do! You go boy!

Okay, aside from my sarcasm, I did eventually come to a point where I questioned "how" Drew Carey found healing. Drew Carey found healing through self help books. He found healing by thinking better thoughts about himself. He found healing by believing he was a better man. He found healing by believing that his belief was a good belief which lead him to believe that his belief would work for him.

What's my point? Here, we have a man who believed himself to health. For all I know, he could be believing that ... it doesn't matter what he believes. What matters is that he had the ability to believe.

I believe in Jesus. I do my best to live for Jesus. I am probably harder on myself than Jesus is on my me. Apparently, Jesus has a better understanding of a thing called "Grace". And Ramon has very little understanding of "Grace".

Belief is a big thing. And although I don't care what Drew Carey believes -- I really do care what he believes. I care because what he believed ain't Jesus. Maybe it is and I have no clue what I am talking about.

But the fact of the matter is, Drew Carey had the ability to believe in something.

Jesus, whom I believe in is more powerful than what Drew Carey believes in. Unless, of course, he believes in Jesus. Then, who knows what happens from there, maybe the two cancel each other out. BLAH!!!!!!!

Drew Carey is a better man than I am. Not because of his riches or his fame, but because he evidently has the ability to believe. Unless he is just faking it. And if he is faking it then I am the better man because I am trying to believe.

Forgetfulness

I seriously don't know why, but for the last two weeks I keep forgetting to put on deodorant. Some days I put it on, some days I plain forget. Like this morning. I specifically made a mental not in my head to put it on, but then I plum forgot. What gives? Is this a manifestation of some emotional state that I'm in? Argh!!!!

Father Maloney AKA George A. Maloney, S.J.

About a year ago I went to a monastery. While there, I rummaged through the monastery's book store. I came across a book called:

Jesus, Set me Free!
Inner Freedom Through Contemplation

Up until this week I hadn't pick up the book. On Monday I read the introduction. It goes as follows:

You and I are more slaves than freed persons. Part of our slavery consists in having forgotten what true freedom means as children of God. We often are content to live in the narrow confines of our slavery, mainly because everyone else is in the same prison. Blindness is not so great a suffering if all human begins were born blind and never could know any other possibility. But blindness would become unbearable if there were among all the blind persons one man who really could see!
The way we perceive ourselves, God and the world is fairly much the same way others perceives the same relationships. That precisely is part of our slavery. But Jesus Christ came among us with the eyes of God. He was "the true light that enlightens all men" (Jn 1:9). That light shines in our darkness and cannot be overpowered by our darkness (Jn 1:5).

I wanted share this 'cause it reminds me of the Matrix and the study we are doing at Apex.

I can't recommend this book per se cause I haven't read it. But when I'm finished, I'll pass along my thumbs up or thumbs down.

My Sister

Each time I encounter my sister I learn from her. Thank you, Heidi.

Spinach in my teeth

Today I have spilt three different things on my shirt in six different places.

1. Coffee on my shirt this morning.

2. Barbecue sauce on 4 different places.

3. And lastly, a peice of honking lettuce on the middle of my shirt which I didn't notice until a co-wroker pointed out.

God loves me :-)

And on a related note, God has shown me his love through this incident. Just earlier today I said to myself "self" all your blogs are about hard, hurting, depressing issues, when you you gonna write about something funny? I didn't plan it folks. Hopefully you found it funny. I did. And I laughed too!

I think I'm finally figuing out this HiLo LoHi safe mode stuff with blogger

I was reading my friend's Blog today (Meghann Kathleen Peterson). She wrote about her childhood. Interesting story. As she told her story, she recounted what she recalls as her first memory (Christmas 1982: Puppy in a box).

I read her story with curiosity and then began to wonder about my first memory. I'm sad to say that my first memory is of fear. Fear of my mother dying, a fear that still consumes me to this day. How I hate fear. I fear just about everythig. And then again, there are times I don't fear at all.

Every so ofetn I get into these stages of my life where there is much chaos and heart-ache. I find myself in such a place now. Part of it is due to not understanding God and the things he's doing in my life. Part of it is me being selfish. Part of it is based in pain. And part of it is just confusion.

Please pray that God would speak to me and to people in my community. Pray that I and my community are able to clearly identify his voice. Pray for confirmation on things.

Thanks.

Prayer

There are days when I FEEL prayer.

There are days when I feel like not praying.

There are days when I am afraid to pray.

There are days when I am ashamed to pray.

There are days when I WANT to pray.

There are days when I ought to pray.

There are days when I wish I could pray.

There are days when I can't pray.

There are days when I don't know how to pray.

There are days when I just wanna pray.

This morning I laid my hand on my Father and prayed for him. I felt all the apparent negative from the list. God still provided amidst my feelings.

What am I to learn from this?

It is 6:41 p.m.. It is Thursday, May 29, 2003. I'm sitting in my work chair looking out of my window. It's a little breezy outside. I'm waiting for my brother to call me. I'm supposed to check out his step-son perform and receive an award at some sort of function this evening. His step-son's name is Anthony.

The event is to be held at an outdoor auditorium. It's one of those places where you sit outside and watch people on stage. I was looking forward to this event, but now I'm waiting to hear if there is an available ticket. The phone just rang....looks like I'm headed off to see a performance.

Later.

Sadness

Certain areas of the city bring sadness and despair to my heart--quite possibly a mild depression. In what people may see as life, I see death. The inner city is where life is for me...Green Valley is death for me. I see loneliness and despair masked by nice buildings, fancy cars and chic looking restaurants. I'm having lunch at a chic restaurant today. The only plus is that it is family owned and operated...which means there should be lots of people and many kids running around. Thank God for big Italian families.

This is my first real blog.

Although, this is not my first blog account.

Back in August 2002, I created an account with the title name of "La Calle Catorce."

14th street, I thought, was to be an experience in my life unparalleled to any other. I along with a friend (Alan) moved into an apartment in the barrio, which happened to be on 14th and Mesquite. Alan and I had planned to live there for one year. My stay lasted 2 moths.

Usually when people find out that I only lasted 2 months in the barrio, I typically receive a half-cocked smile, maybe a wince--as if somehow they were feeling my pain of defeat. Usually, in my opinion, their wince, half-cocked smile is out of sympathy because an assumption is made. That assumption goes something like this: "the barrio chewed you up and spit you out, that's tough bro...[pat, pat on my back] you'll do better next time."

If that were only the case.

Truth of the matter, as I reflect back, I think it was totally in God's plan for me to move into an apartment for only two months. Regardless of all the planning, prayer and preparation that went into the decision of moving into the barrio. I think God allowed it that way--which quite frankly, has served me well.

For those of you who don't know my story and this whole barrio thing makes no sense, let me explain.

I'm a schmuck. And I have a problem with controlling myself in many ways. But even more truthful, I don't know who I am. Well, I think I have a better idea of who I am now, than I did back then. Back then was August 2002 and the 25 years before that.

My friend Alan and I moved into the barrio with a specific goal: to love people, have a good time, experience community and in the end, if a house church birth through this process, then we were cool with that.

I left our goals. And I left the barrio, too.

I no longer live in a 2 bedroom, cockroach infested, no air-conditioned apartment. I now live in a 3 bedroom/2 bath home with a front and backyard. However, I still have the roaches. I think my parents are still peeved about me bringing my roaches to their home. But, I'm quite positive that it is the last thing on their minds. Especially my father's.

My father has brain cancer.

And that is why I left the barrio.