Guard Your Heart

It is the theme of a new album set to be released come Summer 2005, by an ordinary guy by the name of Jacob C. Thomas.  It is a statement of gratitude, conviction, worship, prayer, and reflection.  Written as if in a journal, Jacob writes from his heart.

I lay it on the altar
My wishes my desires
Driven by my self and my pride
I realize it’s not worth it
For my soul to strive and fret
To gain the world, and lose my soul

  It is what many would call a self-realizing, God-inspired journey of faith. 

The GYH Project website contains messages of hope, photos of the GYH Team, lyrics and two songs from the album which can be downloaded. But first, a message from Jacob:

 

Dear Readers…

“The GYH Project is a musical production of the International Christian Fellowship.  In Proverbs 4:23, God says, “Keep your heart with all diligence, for out of it spring the issues of life”.  The heart of the inner man is what is connected to the source of life.  Out of the inner man, our lives are shaped and directed.  That life inside of us governs what we are, who we are, and most importantly...it determines where we are going or what is going to happen to us!  Therefore, God tells us to protect and to guard our hearts…with all diligence! 

We know God's truth and yet we find that outwardly we can display the best behavior, but inwardly we can be miserable with envy, bitterness, anger, lust and other works of the flesh.  It is because the heart is not guarded that Jesus said, “the things which come out of man, those are they that defile the man”...”For from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness: All these evil things come from within, and defile the man”...Mark 7:15-13.  There is a way out of this!  There is freedom from all of this!  

Although the Lord used me to write the songs contained herein, they are really reflective of the life of Jesus Christ Himself and the believers whom I have associated with over the years in the fellowship.  How to experience blessing in freely giving and never expecting anything in return.  How not to hold grudge toward those who have offended you, instead be more loving and kind.  How to be always forgiving and never lose hope on anyone. How you don't judge the other, but have compassion and patience and instead pray earnestly for their redemption.  How you truly experience unity among the brethren.  How not to complain or fret about life's difficulties or challenges, but rather be joyful in those situations because they become huge opportunities to trust more in the Savior and depend more on Him.  In the face of gross adversity and trial how to stand firm in the faith and not be shaken.  How to just simply believe in His word for what it says and live the blessed life of Jesus Himself. 

I have been able to witness the saints of God who have strived to live this life and after carefully watching them over the years and experiencing this abundant life in a small measure in my own life, I am inspired to write these songs of devotion and spiritual exhortation.  Such a life is only possible if it stems from the heart.  “It is the heart that God wants to dwell in. It is in the state of the heart God wants to prove His power to bless.  It is in the heart the love and the joy of God are to be known.  Let us draw near with a true heart”, quote by Andrew Murray.  And so the theme of this album—“Guard Your Heart.”   -- Jacob C. Thomas.

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Interesting Word of the Day:  denouement  [day-noo-MAWN]  noun:

  1. The final resolution of the main complication of a literary or dramatic work.

  2. The outcome of a complex sequence of events.

And  perhaps  this  helps  to  explain the frequency of the violent  denouement in contemporary novels: in the country that  embraced  the  slogan  "Today is the first day of the rest of your life," how do you call it quits on a character who is still breathing?

Of  course, the crusaders were losers in the short run, but Europe's  storytellers  have traditionally awarded them the righteous   victory  and  not  dwelt  on  the  embarrassing denouement.

Though still only a prospect on the horizon, this, I think, could  well be the next revolution. What a denouement if it is! 

Denouement is from French, from Old French denoer, "to untie," from  Latin  de- + nodare, "to tie in a knot," from nodus, "a knot."

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Sore Thumbs

I guess you could call us the “Three S's”.  Sue, Sandra, and Susan.  My buddies and I went on a road trip to Farmville, VA this past weekend.  We went to visit our Chi Alpha buddies, Gil and Lindsay Banton.  These two amazing people are campus missionaries at Longwood University.  Their endeavor:  Investing in students’ lives to enable them to grow in Christ and minister effectively throughout their years on campus and for a lifetime beyond.  They believe in the awesome ability of students leading their peers to Christ. 

  

 

Farmville itself, was a real life Sweet Home Alabama, where everybody knows everybody, and me and my Korean and El Salvadoran friends stuck out like a sore thumb.  I mean a real sore thumb.  The kind of sore thumb that gets jammed in a car door, and takes a lot of screaming and yelling to get someone to open it.  Let's just say I saw about two colored people, besides the two that were with me:) 

Our adventure took us to various antique stores, one of which was haunted by the wife of a shopkeeper.  (He murdered her for sending him to jail)…or so they say.  The neat thing about little towns are the stories.  It would be nice to actually spend time there, and research the town history.  Much of Farmville history dates back to the desegregation of schools and even much before then.  A large portion of the senior citizens in Farmville are uneducated due to a massive resistance to the idea of desegregation in Virginia during the nineteen fifties.  While there is so much more to be told, there is twice as much to be learned. 

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Being the Martha Stewart fan that I am, actually I’m not, but, Oh, what the heck…

“Imprisoned lifestyle guru MARTHA STEWART has been banned from cooking for fellow prisoners this Thanksgiving.  Stewart, who is serving a prison sentence in West Virginia for obstructing justice, will be served all the traditional favorites, but she won't be allowed to have input.

Spokesperson DAWN ZOBEL asserts, "We have an established menu already in place that goes through an examination by a dietician and we don't let the inmates have input into how we run our menu." –contactmusic.com

The domestic style setter, who started serving a five-month sentence at the Alderson federal prison in West Virginia in October, told her supporters that she's doing well, despite being in prison.

"As you would expect, the loss of freedom and the lack of privacy are extremely difficult," she wrote on her site, Marthatalks.com. "But I am safe, fit and healthy, and I am pleased to report that, contrary to rumors you might have heard, my daily interactions with the staff and fellow inmates here at Alderson are marked by fair treatment and mutual respect." –money.cnn.com~~~

If any of you are unsure about your Thanksgiving menu, Martha offers four different menu types for Thanksgiving Day.  All sound pretty scrumptious; but my favorite has got to be the Southern Fried Turkey Dinner…take a look:

http://www.marthastewart.com/page.jhtml?type=content&id=channel172159&catid=cat286

Scripture That Speaks:  Psalms 136

Interesting Word of the Day:  panjandrum  [pan-JAN-druhm]  noun:  An important personage or pretentious official.

Needless  to  say,  when  governors  and  ministers and the panjandrums  of  British  public life asked these appointed advisers and those from whose ranks they were largely drawn for  their views  on democratic development, they gave the answers that might have been expected.

Panjandrum  was  coined by Samuel Foote (1720-1777) in a piece of nonsense writing: “So  she went into the garden to cut a cabbage-leaf to make an apple-pie; and at the same time a great she-bear, coming up  the  street,  pops  its  head  into the shop. "What! No soap?"  So  he died,  and she very imprudently married the barber:  and  there  were  present  the Picninnies, and the Joblillies,  and  the  Garyulies,  and the grand Panjandrum himself,  with the little round button at top, and they all fell  to  playing  the  game of catch-as-catch-can till the gunpowder ran out at the heels of their boots.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

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Heal Our Land

Good Morning People,

A resplendent day today is.  Fall has got to be the nicest season.  I hope everyone is doing well.  With the election come to an end (I have heard just about enough of this blasted election), and a President decided upon, I understand some of you may still be wearing those black veils,…I sympathize with you.   

Actually, no I don’t:) 

Now I’m not certain who would have made the most optimal President, only time can tell such a thing; but I do know I voted for someone who stands firm in his beliefs…to his moral beliefs.  Funny to think that majority of the U.S. voted for the same rationale.  Christians all across the U.S called together for days of fasting and prayer that God lead the right man into office.  Now I am no clairvoyant or soothsayer of any sort, but I do know God’s promise to those who call on His name, and I do know, that He has placed the right man in office.

2 Chronicles 7:14
”and my people, my God-defined people, respond by humbling themselves, praying, seeking my presence, and turning their backs on their wicked lives, I'll be there ready for you: I'll listen from heaven, forgive their sins, and restore their land to health.”

As George Washington observed in his first Inaugural Address:  “No people can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand which conducts the affairs of men more than the people of the United States.  Every step by which they have advanced to the character of an independent nation seems to have [been] distinguished by some token of providential agency.”

I concur.

This morning I was sent an email from a cousin of mine.  It contained pictures of our troops.  Photos that would never make primetime news.  Heartwarming and very real.  Take a look.   

“Of all the gifts to give the U.S. Military, prayer is the very best one…” 

God Bless America.

Interesting Word of the Day:  chantey  [chantee or shantee]  (noun): a song chanted by sailors as they work    

Mid-19th century.  Origin uncertain, perhaps an anglicization of French chantez "sing!"  

The chanties of the soldiers could be heard throughout our small town.  

Welcome to Victoria....

…where orange groves are aplenty (I wish I had my own little one…maybe someday), where the government is corrupt as corrupt can be, and the people are as poor as they can be.  Here, people overtake you on the roads any chance they get.  And people say I’m a crazy driver;)  While the environment is disastrously unkempt, it is all the while still beautiful.  Mountains encircle the town from all angles. 

We went for missions.  Meet some of our team:  Roger Spence, Wyman Pylant, and last but not least…maybe least…me. 

   

We went to visit our missionary friends, Chacko and Annie.  It always amazes me to hear his testimony about how God called him to the valleys and mountains of Victoria.  A smart and able man, he had made a life for himself and his family in Texas.  Until one fateful night, in a dream, God gave him a vision of suffering Mexicans…losing their lives and most importantly, their souls.  He knew it was his calling.  Mind you, an Indian, specifically a Malayalee, gave up all he had to live his life among Mexicans.  He eats with them, he sleeps in their shacks, he treks hours up and down the mountains to fellowship with them.  Like Abraham, Chacko heard God’s voice and he obeyed.

I went because I had gone before.  I knew the people.  I knew Chacko.  We stayed up late one night talking, joking, and sharing.  He told me about how people, all the time, ask him if he is an ordained pastor or if he has a license to be in Mexico doing ministry work.  He looks at them with his comical face and answers back with full assurance, “Sure I do, and you have a duplicate copy!” 

Matthew 28:18-20   Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Praise God for such a calling we all have.  We are all licensed…we are all ordained by Christ Himself to share the Gospel far and wide.

Join me on a photojournalist’s trip through the rough terrain.  And again, Welcome to Victoria…

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Scripture That Speaks:  Isaiah 58:5-8 

Is this the kind of fast I have chosen, only a day for a man to humble himself?  Is it only for bowing one's head like a reed and for lying on sackcloth and ashes?  Is that what you call a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD ?  "Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?  Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter-when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?  Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.

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Interesting Word of the Day:  gadzookery  [gad-ZOO-kuh-ree]  noun - use of archaic words or expressions, e.g. wight (brave), prithee (I pray thee), ye (you, the).  

Apparently from gadzooks, once used as a mild oath, which may have been an alteration of God's hooks, a reference to the nails of Christ's crucifixion.  

“She (Georgette Heyer) wanted to write more serious historical novels.  Unfortunately the books she wrote outside her period have a tendency towards the gadzookery of Baroness Orczy.”

P.S.  I’m on my way to Ohio this weekend for a retreat.  See some of you there!

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In Disguise

The other day I had a doctors appointment.  It was with a doctor I had never met before.  This guy, probably in his early sixties, was the typical doctor.  Nice office.  I mean really nice office.  White lab coat.  Well kept white hair like Steve Martin.  Squishy hands (have you noticed that all doctors have awfully squishy hands?).  Glasses perched at the end of his nose.  Seated behind his thick cherry desk with arms folded and head tilted to the side.  Everything seemed to fit here except one thing. 

Something really weird. 

I am not sure if it was so much him doing the weird thing, or just an aura about him.   

Here it was: he would ask me a question regarding my health.  And I would answer him.  However after I answered him, he would just sit there and stare at me for about 30 seconds with a half, semi-grin on his waxy creased face before moving on to the next question.  Now this was not just any stare, it was a really weird stare.  Like the kind of stare that knows everything.  It was so funny…funny, but really weird.  During those 30 seconds, which by the way felt like a whole lot longer, I just wanted to bust out laughing.  But all I could do was look anywhere but his face.  He obviously knew I was feeling uncomfortable by his silent stare.  But he did it every time.

It got me thinking.  Maybe he’s God.  I don’t mean this as a joke.  Maybe he is God in the human form of course.  Could God actually come down and act as a normal being?He did it 2000 years ago in the form of Jesus Christ.  But could He do it inconspicuously?  Just take the form of man and be an everyday person?  It seemed a crazy juvenile thought at the time, but sure, why can’t He?  There is a song by Newsboys that comes to mind, “Entertaining Angels”.  So be careful, whether it be God or one of His angels walking opposite of you, or the smelly guy sitting next to you on the metro, or the lady behind the cash register.  Who knows? 

Ok enough of my wild imagination….

Please keep me in you prayers.  This week I will be going to Victoria City, Mexico to integrate a new English curriculum for the youth there.  I hear from my good friend, Chacko, the missionary there, that we will also be meeting tribals from the mountains of Victoria.  There are many who desperately need to hear the Good News. 

Scripture That Speaks:  Matthew 5: 1-8,  You’re Blessed

1When Jesus saw his ministry drawing huge crowds, he climbed a hillside. Those who were apprenticed to him, the committed, climbed with him. Arriving at a quiet place, he sat down 2and taught his climbing companions. This is what he said: 3"You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.
4"You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you. 5"You're blessed when you're content with just who you are--no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought. 6"You're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God. He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat. 7"You're blessed when you care. At the moment of being “careful,' you find yourselves cared for. 8"You're blessed when you get your inside world--your mind and heart--put right. Then you can see God in the outside world. 

Interesting Word of the Day:  aerie or eyrie  [EYE-ree]  noun: 

1.  The bird's nest built on a lofty place, such as a cliff or mountaintop.
2.   A dwelling or stronghold located in a lofty place. 

The sun is beating down on the Braes of Balquhidder, at the fringes of the Queen Elizabeth Forest Park, as three of us, each trying to ignore a halo of midges, are peering through binoculars,  surveying  a  cleft  in  a  rock face where an untidy rickle of twigs indicates a golden eagle's eyrie. 

Saunière  regaled  them  with  sumptuous banquets and other forms  of largess, maintaining the life-style of a medieval potentate presiding over an impregnable mountain domain. In his  remote  and well-nigh inaccessible aerie he received a number of notable guests.   

We  could  not  afford a nicer house and all those luxuries besides; he did elaborate sums on the backs of envelopes to regretfully  prove  it -- and then would climb back happily to  the  little  eyrie  he'd made for himself in the attic, where  he  would  lie  on  his  bed  listening  to  obscure continental stations on his radio, smoking his pipe.    

Aerie  derives  from  Medieval Latin aeria, "nest of a bird of prey,"  perhaps  from Latin area, "an open space (for birds of prey  like to build their nests on flat and open spaces on the top of high rocks)." 

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Surefire Faith.  Do You Have It?

Georgetown is five minutes from my place of work.  I didn’t realize that.  Yesterday, Lakshmi and I made a pleasant, quick trip to Georgetown.  We went by bus.  It was one of those fly by your seat kinda decisions.  We went for a few errands.  But since we only had an hour we had to rush rush rush.  It was like in a movie…a rainy Monday afternoon.  Stop at the eyeglass store.  Window shop for some posters. 

Our bus speeds by as we try to wave it down.  The driver didn’t see us jumping and waving frantically.  It stops 100 yards away.  Can we make it?  No we can’t make it.  But wait!  An old man with a cane is getting off…   We ran as fast as our business attired feet could carry us.  We made it.  All in an hour.  Back to our seats…back to work.

On another note…

Why doesn’t he answer my prayers?  What is it you want to do with me Lord?

For those of you who go to my church, you know this has been on my heart.  On Sunday my own father spoke on prayer and faith.  What resounds in my mind: Without faith it is impossible to please God.  Without faith!  What is faith?  Hebrews 11:1 “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”  Hebrews 11:6 “It's impossible to please God apart from faith. And why? Because anyone who wants to approach God must believe both that he exists and that he cares enough to respond to those who seek him.”  How do we have faith?  We have faith from hearing.  Romans 10:17 “Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word of Christ.”  Hearing and believing.  Hearing and believing the wonderful and marvelous work of God in His word, in people’s lives and in your own life…if you believe that is.

Mark 11:24-25  Therefore I say unto you, What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them.  

I was praying the other day, and God revealed a single verse to me:

 

Psalms 51:17
I learned God--worship
when my pride was shattered.
Heart-shattered lives ready for love
don't for a moment escape God's notice. 

I thought it was amazing.  It is a promise that once we are ready to humble ourselves, God’s word says that He notices.  Once we are ready, His grace is sufficient to take us to the end.  But until then… 

Take care people!

I Thessalonians 5:24
The one who calls you is faithful and He will do it. 

Interesting Word of the Day:  wiseacre  [WY-zay-kuhr]  noun:  One  who  pretends to knowledge or cleverness; a would-be wise person; a smart aleck.

All across the United States, journalists and other wiseacres would soon have a field day with the popular mayor's personal problems and public trials.

A  wiseacre on the Oakland to Los Angeles shuttle this week said  the  next technological leap would be implanting cell phones into people's heads. He was kidding -- we think.

Wiseacre comes from Middle Dutch wijssegger, "a soothsayer," from Old High German wissago, alteration of wizago, "a prophet."

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Good Morning People.

I feel wonderfully stretched out this morning.  Last evening I went to an Intro to Ballet class in Dupont Circle.  Please don’t be mistaken.  I don’t want to be a ballerina at the old age of 22, I just want to be able to keep my body fit and live to the ripe old age of 112:)  The class is great for toning and keeping the body flexible. 

Anyway, in order to make it to that nice old age, I have to take care of my body.  How often do you spend some time on yourself?  In our busy lives, we pack so much in that we have no time left for the basics in life: to prepare a proper meal, take a little gentle exercise or simply to relax and allow the stresses of the day to drain away.  We start to feel tired, we become pallid, our waistlines fill out and we suffer from nagging symptoms such as headaches and digestive problems.  Take some time out to pamper yourself and improve your overall health will boost your general wellbeing and make you feel more energized.  You will have a better outlook on life and more self confidence to face the world.  You don’t have to spend a lot of time in order to make a visible difference.  A little effort goes a long way to reducing stress and invigorating your emotional, physical and spiritual wellbeing. 

So do you ever just get overwhelmed?  To the point where your mind becomes boggled down and you just don’t know where to start… …with anything?  It’s time to detox.  Take a hike!  [I mean that literally and colloquially…just kidding.  But yes, please do just take a walk.  Read a book.  Read your bible!  Soak in information.  Be calm.  Sit straight.  Drink your water.  Eat your fruit.  Take an exercise class if you can’t push yourself to exercise at home.  [Hey guys, there were three guys in my ballet class.  Men in tights.  I’m not sure how I feel about that yet.  I’ll let you know later.]   

It’s all about making choices and following them.

Well, here’s to life.  Ciao.

Interesting Word of the Day:  longueur  [long-GUR]  noun:  A   dull   and  tedious passage  in  a  book,  play,  musical composition, or the like.

One  of  the  commentators  compared  my  speech  to one of Gladstone's  which  had  lasted five hours.  "It was not so long,  but  some  of  the  speech's . . . longueurs made Gladstone seem the soul of brevity," he wrote.  --Lord Lamont of Lerwick, "Been there, done that," Times (London).

If this book of 400 pages had been devoted to her alone, it would have been filled with longueurs, but as the biography of a family it has the merit of originality.  --Peter  Ackroyd,  review  of Gwen Raverat: Friends, Family and  Affections,  by  Frances  Spalding, Times (London)

This  book ... has its defects. Sometimes it loses focus (as in a longueur on Chechens living in Jordan).  --Colin Thubron, "Birth of a Hundred Nations," New York Times 

Longueur  is from French (where it means "length"), ultimately deriving  from  Latin longus, "long," which is also the source of English long. 

And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him. (James 5:15 KJV)

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“To you I give my life; not just the parts I want to

Man, oh man, oh man.  Today is one of those days when you just want to stay in bed and curl up under the covers and never come out.  It’s one of those days when everything is unsure and all you can do is hope and pray that God knows what he’s doing.  For starters, my place of work is under an Al-Quaeda threat, second I work with people who think Jesus has a bloodline (The Da Vinci Code…a whole other topic we’ll save for next time), third, my future is one big haze, and last but not least, my mom made me take off my shirt today so she could iron it…she said how can you walk out like that!  (It had like one wrinkle in it, please).  The tears just started rolling once I got on the train.  I closed my eyes so they would stop.  But they didn’t.  I opened God’s Word, it read:  

“What I’m trying to do here is get you to relax, not be so preoccupied with getting so you can respond to God’s giving.  People who don’t know God and the very way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works.  Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions.  You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.  Don’t be afraid of missing out.  You’re my dearest friends!  The Father wants to give you the very kingdom itself.”

Luke 12:29-32 [The Message]

Ok, so on a lighter note, Martha Stewart seems to be doing alright.  “The day after her sentencing, Martha Stewart already seemed to be sowing the seeds for her return.  She spent the afternoon surveying her estate in Bedford, N.Y., paying particular attention to the vegetable gardens she had planted and a groove of magnolias that were just taking root.  Throughout the tour, her cell phone rang incessantly, with friends calling to offer her their support.  The night of the sentencing she told Barbara Walters that “many aspects” of her trial were “not fair”.  Earlier in the day, on the steps of the Manhattan Federal Courthouse, she claimed that all along she had been “more concerned about the well-being of others,” specifically her employees who lost their jobs when her company tanked in the wake of the scandal, than she had been about herself.  And she made a point of flashing her trademark resolve.  “I’ll be back,” she said outside the court.  “I will be back.”  --People Magazine 

Keep it here on IPF for the latest coverage on the Martha Stewart Trail.  (Sike).

Later people.

“A thought went up in my today, that I have had before, but did not finish,-- some way back, I could not fix the year, nor where it went, nor why it came the second time to me, nor definitely what it was, have I the art to say…”

Emily Dickinson

Interesting Word of the Day:  eructation  [ih-ruhk-TAY-shuhn]  noun: The act of belching; a belch.

Ignatius belched, the gassy eructations echoing between the walls of the alley.

    --John Kennedy Toole, [1]A Confederacy of Dunces

The  explosion,  at  this  distance,  sounds  like a faint, feeble eructation.

    --Peter Conrad, "Bangs to whimpers," [2]The Observer   

Eructation comes from Latin eructatio, from eructare, from e-, "out" + ructare, "to belch."

Some of you who know me well, know that I keep a journal of accounts worthy to be written.  That pretty much includes everything from the smallest detail to the biggest occurrence.  I thought I would share with you yesterday’s entry.

As I sit on the train this morning thinking about my weekend, an Amtrak train races beside mine.  Who will win?  Not my train…it rides to slow.  My eyes move forward and stare into black glass in front on me.  I see my reflection.  Sometimes I don’t recognize myself.  Who is this girl?  Too much to think about right now,  my mind goes back to the whirlwind weekend I had.  

A.  I found an interesting article for you all,  that I think is worth a read:

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By Sabaa Saleem
The Washington Post

In spite of myself, I think I may agree to an arranged marriage.

Beginning next month, my parents will contact Muslim family friends around the world with a list of criteria for a husband: a twentysomething, classically handsome, Urdu-speaking Muslim man who is 6 feet tall, with an MD and MBA, as well as a PhD in something respectable like molecular toxicology. He must have a good sense of family and a financial portfolio fat enough to take care of the next 15 generations. My parents will screen the candidates, and after I graduate from college next spring, they will introduce me to the few they deem best. Ultimately, the lucky man will have to pass my own stringent test: Does he own every Radiohead album and listen to them regularly?

Like so many other young South Asians in America, I am the product of two cultures whose conflicting values pull at me with equal urgency. Never have I felt as torn between the two as I do about the question of marriage. I have been a Californian for all but the first year of my life, when my family lived in Britain, where I was born. I grew up in a small town in the Mojave Desert where conservative Republicans were as common as cacti. Inexplicably, I grew up liberal and a feminist.

My mother and father were born and raised in Pakistan, where religion is entrenched in the culture and the culture is explicitly unyielding. Though they left family and comfort decades ago for opportunity in the West, they brought strong religious faith and cultural expectations with them -- and tried to instill sobriety and respect in my two older brothers and me. They have more or less succeeded, but they have also endured nearly 30 years of our stubborn refusal to conform. They have grudgingly accepted that, while respectful, their children are also independent, maybe even eccentric -- qualities not admired by most traditional Pakistanis.

My parents would casually joke about my marriage while I was growing up. I was uneasy about it, but it seemed so far off that it was easy for me to laugh it off. "When pigs fly!" I'd say, and change the subject.

Now, almost everyone I know -- friends, teachers, co-workers -- expects me, as a child of the West, to reject the notion of arranged marriage, to proclaim my independence loudly. Sometimes, I still expect that, too. But as a young Muslim woman, I also expect myself to accept the obligations I have as my parents' daughter -- regardless of the emotional cost to me.

Pakistani culture and Islam beckon me with security, familiarity and ease. By agreeing to an arranged marriage, I could more easily satisfy my religious obligation to abstain from intimacy with the opposite sex until marriage -- not an easy feat, may I say. I would be participating in the ceremony of a culture 11,000 miles removed, a ceremony I've witnessed only twice. By doing so, I could spare my parents the stinging criticism they would face if their daughter chose her own path: barbs from three generations of extended family, all of whom accepted their own arranged marriages without argument -- and some of whom complain about them to this day.

At the same time, Pakistani culture repels me with its expectation that I adhere to a tradition that essentially advocates handing me over to a man for safekeeping. From the endless gossip of aunts, uncles, cousins and friends, I know the courtship ritual well. I will briefly meet my parents' choices and pick those who interest me. With each man, after perhaps a month of chaperoned dating, phone calls, no physical contact and little understanding of whether we would mesh, I am supposed to decide whether to marry him.

In the end, the decision will be mine. My parents would never force me to marry a particular man. But they do expect me not to dawdle. Ideally, I should make a decision after no more than five or six meetings. I am supposed to pick a husband, accept my fate and hope the marriage is successful. Our engagement would likely last a year or two, during which we would get to know each other better -- and maybe even grow fond of each other. (Breaking it off at that point would be possible, but that would reflect badly on me and on my family and would represent time wasted.) Still, I worry that my filial piety could lead me down an empty road -- where independent minds and hearts are given up to the demands of a culture that I often find perplexing.

I am not alone in this struggle. My oldest brother and I have mulled over the marriage question for hours and hours. My other brother, the middle child and black sheep of the family, long ago informed our parents that there would be no arranged marriage for him -- in fact, there probably wouldn't be a marriage at all. My parents hope he'll come to his senses. And though their oldest child is 29 -- marrying age for men in Pakistan -- my parents accept his excuse that he's just not ready. Maybe they focus less on him because my father was 31 when he married. Whatever the reason, until I get married, my parents' eyes are on me. Their priorities for me are that I get a bachelor's degree and marry -- in that order. Thus, I decided to take an honors thesis class last year to postpone my graduation until next March, when UCLA will have to forcibly boot me out. I am searching for ways to extend my school days so that I can put off the marriage decision again. I have to admit, I'm beginning to feel a creeping sense of desperation because I was imbued with a sense of skepticism toward anything that is overly reliant on tradition rather than reason. But my skepticism is outweighed by an obligation to my mother and father, and to their happiness.

My parents are not evil people who have kept me in a box my whole life, bent on handing me over to a man who will do the same. They've always treated me with love and respect and showed trust in my judgment. And the rules they applied to me when I was younger have remained a part of me, even when I have not wanted them to. For example, my parents never allowed me to date and generally frowned any on male friendships. Dating leads to intimacy, which would be out of the question. In high school, I was far quieter than I am now, and a tight curfew ensured my good behavior.

But the coed dorms, parties and freedom of college have presented a moral dilemma for me. I did not want to disappoint my parents. So I developed a complex method of discouraging in myself behavior that they, and Islam, would consider deviant. When I thought someone was about to ask me out, I used the idea that I wasn't sure about my sexuality as a ruse to get him to keep his distance. Or I ran off, claiming an appointment. But after four years of these tactics -- which have not failed me yet -- I find it harder to convince others, and myself, that I'm not interested.

Then I think of my parents and their leniency over the years and I stop having the conversation with myself in which I have doubts. Despite their strict upbringing, my parents do not ask me to wear the Islamic head cover. They did not insist that I attend a local college and continue to live at home, as many Muslim girls do. They do not admonish me when I stay out late, and they only occasionally flare up at my decision to forgo medicine for journalism. They remind me to eat and sleep and worry less about grades and career, and, they encourage me to attend concerts and enjoy my youth.

My parents have given me every opportunity for happiness. And I know that their happiness depends on fulfilling their responsibilities as good Muslim parents. They must see their children married to other Muslims of whom they approve.

That took on a new urgency last January when my father, who has a bad heart, also had a stroke. A religious man, he now even more adamantly believes it is his duty to secure my spiritual well-being in whatever time he has left. If he succeeds in marrying me well, ideally to a Muslim from a good Pakistani family, then my soul will be at peace in the afterlife. Moreover, he will be enabling me to follow the rules set out by Islam -- to respect my parents' wishes, to start a family and to hand down my religious morals to my children.

That holds nearly as much weight as performing his five daily prayers. For him, my marriage would be the crowning achievement in a life nearly complete. I worry that, if his health deteriorates further and I am not married, I will be the cause of his having an incomplete life.

Similarly, my mother doesn't believe she can perform the pilgrimage to Mecca -- of paramount importance to even moderately devout Muslims -- with a clear conscience until I am married. If I refused to get married, my parents would be brokenhearted and confused. Like any child close to her parents, I could not watch them suffer.

And so I find myself defending arranged marriage against those who see it as absurd or even barbaric. Yet I'm disturbed by the doubt these critics instill in me. My fifth year of college buys me more time to resolve my career insecurities. But if I can't even decide between writing or editing, philanthropy or graduate school, how can I commit myself to a man I'll know so little about? Beyond my parents' requirements, there are traits I need in the man I marry that cannot be discerned from a few meetings. Will he be able to hold his own in a discussion with me? Will he calmly accept that I will be at least a half-hour late to any important event? Will he make fun of Bollywood films with me?

If we marry, it will no doubt be for life. Muslims accept divorce, but usually as a last resort, and many Pakistanis, including my extended family, see divorce as an escape for the weak-willed.

And is it selfish and idealistic to want "true love"? My American instincts tell me that love comes before marriage, not a few years after -- if I am lucky. Like a lot of South Asians raised in the United States, I hope for a "love-match" -- where parents accept the Muslim their child has met on her own and has decided to marry. My parents have said that this route would please them most, because it would be a compromise between their ideals and mine.

A month ago, I asked my mother about her determination to have me married soon, especially when her own marriage at 21 took her to London, away from the world she knew, preventing her from pursuing a career and establishing her independence. She said, "Do you think I want to you to leave us -- to have a man at the center of your life? Maybe even to go away? I want my daughter close to me always, but this is my duty; I don't have a choice -- I can't be selfish. I have to let you go."

That day, I decided I would have an arranged marriage.

But now, I marvel at how quickly the summer has passed. I feel like hyperventilating when I think how quickly spring will come, and engagement and marriage will follow. I fantasize about ways to scare off suitors (bringing sock puppets to our first meeting, perhaps?). Briefly, I resolve to put off marriage, for a few years at least.

But then I think of my parents' anguish if I refuse to honor their wishes -- I think of my father and the shadowy road ahead of him -- and of how empty I will feel. And I wonder, if I have one foot in each world, is it possible to keep from being torn apart?

B.  Chris will be updating tomorrow.

One windy night, before family prayer, my grandmother asked me to get the head coverings.  I brought two…one for her and one for my mom.  After prayer that night my grandfather asked me to sit and have a chat with him.  “Why didn’t you wear a head covering?” he asked.  I squirmed a bit as I usually do when being questioned about such issues and said, ”Well, I really don’t know if wearing the head covering applies to me.”  He asked me why the word of God, which forever stays the same, would not apply to me.  I thought about it for a minute and confirmed that wearing the head covering seemed to be something that women had to do back then—more a tradition of that time.  Being a bit [or a lot] more liberal than my Indian parents, I feel that God only looks at the heart…why would it matter so much if I didn’t wear a stupid head covering?  Things have changed—haven’t they?  I’ve always had this stance; but I wore the head covering because my mom and grandma did.  I didn’t feel like following the tradition anymore.  I wanted to make up my own mind.  So I told my grandpa that I would get back to him on that one…after I did a little research. 

Here are my findings:

1 Corinthians 11:1-16

Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.  I commend you because you remember me in everything and maintain the traditions just as I handed them on to you.  But I want you to understand that Christ is the head of every man, and the husband is the head of his wife, and God is the head of Christ.  Any man who prays or prophesies with something on his head disgraces his head, but any woman who prays or prophesies with her head unveiled disgraces her head--it is one and the same thing as having her head shaved.  For if a woman will not veil herself, then she should cut off her hair; but if it is disgraceful for a woman to have her hair cut off or to be shaved, she should wear a veil.  For a man ought not to have his head veiled, since he is the image and reflection of God; but woman is the reflection of man.  Indeed, man was not made from woman, but woman from man.  Neither was man created for the sake of woman, but woman for the sake of man.  For this reason a woman ought to have a symbol of authority on her head, because of the angels.  Nevertheless, in the Lord woman is not independent of man or man independent of woman.  For just as woman came from man, so man comes through woman; but all things come from God.  Judge for yourselves: is it proper for a woman to pray to God with her head unveiled? Does not nature itself teach you that if a man wears long hair, it is degrading to him, but if a woman has long hair, it is her glory? For her hair is given to her for a covering.  But if anyone is disposed to be contentious--we have no such custom, nor do the churches of God.

I went over this passage with my father.  (My dad, dad, I mean;)  I’d never really analyzed this passage before, but what I found surprised me.  Paul says, Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.  Paul goes into talking about the purpose and requirements of Christ followers.  Growing up as a Christian these days, there are sooooo many different beliefs about God’s word and what it really means.  Some take it literally and some dissect it until it fits into their puzzle.  …Almost seems like people are twisting God’s word to make their lives easier.  On a side note, I’ve heard that divorce is most common among Christians.  That is so crazy.  Why?  Because we twist God’s word to conform to how we want to live.  God will understand if I can’t get along with my husband over whether or not he barbeques on the porch or the patio.  Some people. 

But back to my headcovering dilemma.  The word explicitly says that, For if a woman will not veil herself, then she should cut off her hair; but if it is disgraceful for a woman to have her hair cut off or to be shaved, she should wear a veil.  How can anyone dispute this?  Some may say that it was a cultural thing, or a thing from that time period.  But then we can say that about a lot of things.  I don’t want to look to deep into what reads to be so simple.  Wearing a head covering when you pray may seem archaic or even embarrassing for some; but if it is God’s word, shouldn’t we obey?

I am not saying that people who don’t wear one are hell bound.  But if anyone is disposed to be contentious--we have no such custom, nor do the churches of God.  God is not about bringing strife among people.  God DOES look at the heart.  And he does convict people when they need to be convicted.  It is through him that we receive light on these matters—if we are willing to listen.  The more we read and study God’s word, by God’s grace, the more we will heed to what IT says and not to what man says is the right or wrong thing to do. 

Interesting Word of the Day:  boondoggle  [boon dawggl]  (noun):  an activity or project that is trivial and wasteful of time or money  

Mid 20th century. Coined by the U.S. scoutmaster R.H. Link for a braided leather cord made by Scouts.  

The basketball team, after winning almost every game of the season, felt that the practice was a boondoggle since they were sure to win the championship game.  

A.  As promised, here are my spring break photographs.  Taken in the picturesque town of Asheville, NC, a group of seven Chi Alphites embark on a trip to hickville.  …Where who knows what will befall us…  Once there, with the moonlight as our guide, we drive up a winding road which takes us up to the top of a mountain to the front gates of an old abandoned school where we  spend our days traveling up and down the mountain…to and fro…from Mary’s house and back again.  What happens to the boxcar children: Gil, Lindsay, Greg, Kristi, Erica, Gifty and I?  Well, take a look :)

B.  I recently had my resume updated.  I did not even want to think about it…but my mom says I better have a job lined up after graduation.  Woe is me.  Only a month till graduation.  Anyways…my resume is so awesome.  Why?  I had someone else do it for me.  And guess who that person was???  IndaPhatFarm’s very own Binu Varghese—my uncle!  Yes indeed.  Binu is my uncle.  He is my mom’s first cousin.  So that makes him my uncle.  He may only be a few years older than I, but he gets the same respect as an appachan.  So anyways…the other day I showed him my resume and he was like “this is crap…do you really expect to get a job with this???”  I was like…”yeah, well I was hoping I would.”  So, being the Good Samaritan that he is, my uncle takes my substandard resume and turns it into gold.  And, for a simple fee of $35.00, he’ll the same for you!  Just send a self addressed envelope to:

A.  My dad exploded the other day.  He got mad.  And my dad never gets mad.  He is a very sweet, good-natured man of God.  But he got so mad.  Why? 

I cut my hair…again. 

The first time [a year ago] I chopped off a good fifteen inches right up to my ear.  This time, it’s back up there…maybe even a little shorter.  “Girls need long hair”, he says.  He believes it is biblical.  Not stated, but should be understood.  Just like girls should not wear pants.  He is not resolute about this theory of his.  He still lets his two girls wear pants, but he thinks that girls should look like girls.  None of this girls looking like a boy with cropped cuts and manly garb.  [“I looka like a man—Ms. Swann/MAD TV].  Now I am not positively sure about this…because I wasn’t there…but I think guys used to wear skirts and actually have long hair.  I think that is a fact. 

B.  Spring Break.  I went down to Asheville, North Carolina for a week of home repair with ReCreation Experience.  I’ll share more information and pictures in my next update.  But, it felt so good to be out in the mountains—away from the turbulence of city life.  There is absolutely no way to count the stars down there.  They are innumerable.  We all should move. 

[They still have Little Caesar’s…you guys remember that???]   

C.  I am chatting with my brother right now and I notice that he is wearing gel in his hair.  Why does a thirteen year old need gel?  I have this thing about guys and gel.  I hate gel.  Wait.  Hate is a strong word…let me rephrase that.  I have a disliking for gel.  Why do guys wear it?  It makes them look so slick.  Slick like the Gambino Crime Family, slick like alligator shoes, slick like a pink suit and a donnegal hat.  What ever happened to that clean, fresh, run your hands through it kinda hair? 

D.  What’s the old fogey up to these days?  Saddam Hussein. 

AOL NEWS:   WASHINGTON – “He doesn't have a lawyer in the room, but Saddam Hussein apparently is practicing what most attorneys would advise: Don't talk. Diplomatic and military officials say the former Iraqi leader has provided little useful information in interrogations so far - and may even be having fun.

The questioning of Saddam - initially handled by the CIA - is now a joint CIA-FBI operation, a sign that the aim is changing from finding intelligence to gathering evidence for any eventual trials. The people who are asking the questions at the moment are from the FBI, said a U.S. intelligence official, speaking on the condition of anonymity.  Instead, House Intelligence Chairman Porter Goss, R-Fla., now calls the questioning a ''patience project.''  ''He is very good at denial and deception. I am not sure he even knows what the truth is anymore,'' Goss said. ''I think he's been surrounded by yes-men and syncophants.''

On Sunday, Jacques Verges, a French lawyer who claims to be representing Saddam at his family's request, said he expects that a trial is still some time away.  Verges has not met with Saddam and is trying to act as his lawyer from afar, a U.S. intelligence official said.  Verges said he believes the United States has violated the Geneva Conventions in its detention of Saddam, and said the world must wait for a trial to determine whether Saddam was guilty of wrongdoing.

''We know that Mr. Bush has said he's guilty,'' Verges told Associated Press Television News. ''But what does that mean? Mr. Bush is not a judge. We cannot accept him as a judge. He is an enemy of Saddam Hussein.''

Associated Press Writer Curt Anderson contributed to this report.

E.  Interesting Word of the Day:  arcanum  [ar-KAY-nuhm]  (noun):  a secret; a mystery.  Specialized or mysterious knowledge, language, or information that is not accessible to the average person (generally used in the plural, arcana).  SYNONYMS: puzzle, unknown, enigma      

WORD WISE:  Arcanum is from the Latin, from arcanus "closed, secret," from arca, "chest, box," from arcere, "to shut in."  

QUOTE: Here we must enter briefly into the technical arcane of employment law.  
--Paul F. Campos, Jurismania The Madness of American Law.  

I need order.

I need peace.

I need freedom.

I need a break!

“Give me a break.  Give me a break.

Break me off a piece of that… …”

Sorry I couldn’t help myself there.  But, no seriously…

I need a break.

…just had two midterms.  One more to go.  And let me just tell you…procrastination is a killer.  After this week…[hallelujah music]…SPRING BREAK!

I need time to organize my life.  Time to put the clothes back on the hanger [for those of you who know me…one inch apart]…and the books back on the shelf [in alphabetical order, of course].  I need time to disinfect all the doorknobs and dust off all the picture frames.  I need time to myself so I can think clearly and not be swayed by what is going on around me.

I need some tea:) 

The following tea…is calming, yet keeps you alert.  I’ll gladly send you a sample taste…just email me.

Curl Up With a Good Book Tea

by Susan Wittig Albert

To blend 40 servings                                                   To brew 2 cups

¼ cup green tea                                                             2 heaping teaspoons blend

¼ cup dried chamomile flowers                                 2 cups water

¼ cup dried hibiscus flowers

3 tablespoons licorice root

1 tablespoon dried orange peel

1 tablespoon cloves

1 tablespoon aniseed

3 to 4 vanilla beans, finely chopped and dried

"Christopher Robin was home by this time, because it was the afternoon, and he was so glad to see them that they stayed there until very nearly tea-time, and then they had a Very Nearly tea, which is one you forget about afterwards, and hurried on to Pooh Corner, so as to see Eeyore before it was too late to have a Proper Tea with Owl."       -A.A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner

Be Happy, Drink tea.

Ciao!

Interesting Word of the Day:  sobriquet  [sobri kay]  (noun):  an unofficial name or nickname, especially a humorous one

P.S.  Happy St. Patrick’s Day!!!  Here is a little...or a lot of information on St. Patrick himself. 

For more information, check out:  http://www.historychannel.com/exhibits/stpatricksday/main.html

St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, is one of Christianity's most widely known figures. But for all his celebrity, his life remains somewhat of a mystery. Many of the stories traditionally associated with St. Patrick, including the famous account of his banishing all the snakes from Ireland, are false, the products of hundreds of years of exaggerated storytelling.

It is known that St. Patrick was born in Britain to wealthy parents near the end of the fourth century. He is believed to have died on March 17, around 460 A.D. Although his father was a Christian deacon, it has been suggested that he probably took on the role because of tax incentives and there is no evidence that Patrick came from a particularly religious family. At the age of sixteen, Patrick was taken prisoner by a group of Irish raiders who were attacking his family's estate. They transported him to Ireland where he spent six years in captivity. During this time, he worked as a shepherd, outdoors and away from people. Lonely and afraid, he turned to his religion for solace, becoming a devout Christian.

After more than six years as a prisoner, Patrick escaped. According to his writing, a voice—which he believed to be God's—spoke to him in a dream, telling him it was time to leave Ireland. To do so, Patrick walked nearly 200 miles from County Mayo, where it is believed he was held, to the Irish coast. After escaping to Britain, Patrick reported that he experienced a second revelation—an angel in a dream tells him to return to Ireland as a missionary. Soon after, Patrick began religious training, a course of study that lasted more than fifteen years. After his ordination as a priest, he was sent to Ireland with a dual mission—to minister to Christians already living in Ireland and to begin to convert the Irish.

Familiar with the Irish language and culture, Patrick chose to incorporate traditional ritual into his lessons of Christianity instead of attempting to eradicate native Irish beliefs. For instance, he used bonfires to celebrate Easter since the Irish were used to honoring their gods with fire. He also superimposed a sun, a powerful Irish symbol, onto the Christian cross to create what is now called a Celtic cross, so that veneration of the symbol would seem more natural to the Irish.

(Although there were a small number of Christians on the island when Patrick arrived, most Irish practiced a nature-based pagan religion. The Irish culture centered around a rich tradition of oral legend and myth. When this is considered, it is no surprise that the story of Patrick's life became exaggerated over the centuries—spinning exciting tales to remember history has always been a part of the Irish way of life. )

A.  The Passion:  For those of you who’ve seen The Passion of the Christ…there is no way you could have left the theatre without being stirred by this movie.  I went on opening day.  Before even actually seeing it…I had a good feeling that this would be like no other movie I’d seen before.  And it was.  Timeless.  At times during the movie I could not understand how he did it.  How could a man still love while he was being beaten to death?  Jesus’ act of love was truly something special.  His humility and servile spirit was indeed nothing of this world.  He lived, breathed and walked in holiness.  That should be our goal—to live a life of righteousness.

Does anyone have an interpretation of the scene where Jesus is being scourged and the devil furtively walks by holding a baby?  Post your answer on the message board.

Speaking of devils…I could not stop thinking of that face before I went to bed the past few nights;)

"Passion" holds the crown for the second-highest-grossing first five days for a film opening on a Wednesday. The first five days of "Passion" pulled in $122.2 million, just behind New Line Cinema's "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" ($124.1 million), but ahead of 20th Century Fox's "Star Wars: Episode I -- The Phantom Menace" ($105.7 million).   

B.  Oscar Fashion:  I didn’t get the chance to watch the Oscar’s this year, but I did see one Jennifer Garner who looked resplendent in her orange vintage Valentino gown.  Has a sort of Indian flair to it…

C.  In other recent news, Martha Stewart judge drops most serious charge.  "As my trial nears its conclusion, I am hopeful and optimistic that I will be exonerated," Stewart said in a letter posted on her Web site. 

"I'm pleased that the judge has dismissed the most serious of the charges against me, concluding that there is no evidence to support it." 

D.  Welcome Jeremy C. Thomas!!!  My new baby cousin—a LEAP YEAR baby!!!  Quite a handsome little lad.

E.  Please pray for me…I have a lot of reading to catch up on;)

Interesting Word of the Day:  flibbertigibbet  [FLIB-ur-tee-jib-it]  noun:   a silly, flighty, or scatterbrained person, especially a pert young woman with such qualities.

Remember those times when you were little…and the weatherman said something to the effect of...”A significant winter storm may affect your area, but its occurrence, location and timing are still uncertain.”  And you were pretty certain it would snow…but in the back of your mind you were desperately hoping and praying that it would.  And finally morning would come.  Before anyone woke you up…you jumped out of bed, and anxiously ran to the window in anticipation of seeing a white blanket covering everything as far as the eye could see?  Well, this was one of those mornings.  (Yes, I am in my fourth year of college and I still do it…I’m pretty sure you do too).  But alas, no snow or sleet on the roads.  Those were the worst times.  When I dejectedly had to get up, get ready and go to school.  BLAST!  Anyway…I have you all to thank for getting me up this morn.  It is my pride and duty to bring you the very best at IPF.  Regardless of no snow, no sleet or no rain:) 

Hmmm…so I pray you all had an awesome weekend…because I sure enough did! 

Chi Alpha Christian Fellowship is a student group at the University of Maryland committed to following Jesus and his teachings on the campus.  When asked what the two greatest commandments were, Jesus responded, "Love God with all your heart, soul, and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself."  This is what we seek to do on the University of Maryland campus. 

There are many more applications, if you’d like a copy…email me at sak2345@aol.com.  I’d be happy to send it to you.  And to learn more about Veronica Karaman and her ministry, visit  http://www.vkm.org/

Interesting Word of the Day:  skookum  [skoo kem]  (adjective):  first rate; the best (Chinook jargon)

I am officially twenty-two OLD years—but I’d rather not think about that right now.  Let’s think positive.  I am seventy-eight years from turning one-hundred!!!  Much better;)  Thanks to my friends who planned an awesome night out with the cronies.  What was hoped to be a surprise for me…ended up to be a half-surprise and a mugger, (don’t ask;).  Last night we went to the National Gallery of Art Outdoor Ice Skating Rink.  Although it was butt-cold outside, it was as beautiful as it always is—a cozy little rink circled with white lights…the Washington Monument on the right…a sculpture garden illuminated by lights on the left…and twenty super cool people to spend your special day with—what more could a girl ask for?  Afterwards we headed to COSI’s to thaw down and grab some grub.  I recommend the grilled chicken parmesan sandwich.

Other than that, I pretty much had a whirl-wind weekend—went to New York to visit some family—shout out to Serena Koshy…newest member to our family…very sweet baby.  Had a great time there and also came upon something very interesting…(at least it was to me).  I was at a relative’s house admiring the architecture when I happened to notice a family photo in the living room.  (It was of my uncle’s wife’s family).  So I take a passing look across all the faces…but my face stops at one.  A guy.  He looks incredibly familiar to me.  By George!  I’ve seen that dude somewhere!!!  But where?  Ahah!  Blue Radius!  It was Franklin Philips----dude we’re related!!!  Ok, I’ll stop now since I’m sure we’re the only two excited here.

Times Square Church:  I’m sure many of you have been there, but I must give you my impression of it.  IT IS SO AWESOME!  The actual service was great.  But the old theatre-turned-church is what got me really excited.  It’s the perfect example of an old Victorian theatre with its mauve-burgundy drapes, countless mezzanines, little corridors, and beautiful cathedral ceiling with gold inlay and classy old-world designs.  I just wished I had more time to explore that place and see what secrets lie behind that theatre.

In 1991, it was announced that the Nederlanders decided to sell the gorgeous Mark Hellinger Theatre to the Times Square Church.  The Hellinger was the theatre where Julie Andrews and Rex Harrison starred in the original Broadway production of My Fair Lady in 1956.  “Times Square Church was founded by Reverend David Wilkerson in 1987.

It is an interdenominational church located at 51st Street and Broadway in the heart of New York City. Over 8,000 people, representing more than 100 nationalities, gather to worship together every week. Roughly 2,000 volunteers from the congregation participate in over thirty ministries, ranging from feeding the homeless in New York City to staffing an orphanage in South Africa.”

http://www.timessquarechurch.org/

Sorry for the delay, but I’m back.  Back with more vim and vigor.  I had the flu, but thank God that’s over.  It was a bit exasperating, because after one bout of the flu, I got another case a fortnight later.  What a way to spend Christmas break.  Anyhow, post-Christmas shopping has made me more resilient in more ways than one.  All I can say is that it is not so worth it...the packed malls and absolutely noooo parking spots.  I had to park in an office lot, somewhat nearby, and walk to the mall.  And plus, I didn’t really come back with a whole lot.  Never again.

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