Even The Teensiest Thing

Alyssa Kay (a friend I met during The Core) called me up from Virginia today. This is the first time we talked since one of the CFNI Campus Days where we both shouted each others' names and then she had to go to work. Our conversation went at a million miles a minute (I missed that too) and I mentioned how my relationship with God controls everything, even my acne. She started to talk about how God should be a part of every aspect, even what we wear in the morning, 'cause what if you decide to wear purple one day and someone says, "I love that shade of purple," and the conversation ends up heading towards God? God wants to have all of us. What you give Him decides what He can work through directly. If we give everything to God, we even give the trifling things. 'Cause to Him, they aren't trifling. They're important tools for His kingdom.

Inconceivable? With God, All Things Are Possible.

As the official planner for the senior trip, I have found several intriguing options. Road trip to South Padre was a good one, but we wouldn't get any school funding for it. A better idea, one that we didn't shoot for 'cause we figured it would be impossible, was a cruise. How could we afford a cruise, you may ask? Well, our school has a nasty habit of giving us a week off of school at times other than the traditional, "Spring Break." This has normally worked to our disadvantage. However, the last week in February or the week before Easter just might be the weeks for fun. The February date is iffy, but the Easter one shows promise. Student Council is willing to put in $100 to each senior for whatever trip we do (this is partly due to the work I started as president *takes a bow*). This still means that we need to raise over $200 each, but that's without negotiating prices for a large group. There is potential here. Smokin' hot potential.

Down A Level

I was at my locker today, and I saw Sydney at hers next to me, so I said, "Hey Sydney," to which she replied, "I was standing here five minutes ago and you didn't say a word!" I, rather than face the fact that I may very well have ignored her, asked, "Do you need a hug?" So we hugged and she said, "Woah, you went down to my level. That's way better." My hugs are normally coming from quite a height.

This is what earns the most respect from me when it comes to leadership. The best preachers that I know of always bring themselves down to a level of, "I'm only human; I'm right on your level." I once prayed with Jed at a leaders meeting when he was still asst. youth pastor, and when we prayed for each other, we were both going through the same thing. When Pastor Benny Perez spoke at YFN, he talked all about his insecurities regarding his unhealed body, while the bodies of everyone around him were getting healed.

If you want to gain respect, go down to the level of those you want respect from.

Sketching

The first thing that really got me thinking in artsy terms recently was when I was drugged up from wisdom teeth, and I was trying to think of what use I could put to this intoxicated state.

Last night, I was watching a documentary on Dr. Seuss (I'm doing my senior thesis on different aspects of his books). Apparently, like me, he was a crappy artist, 'cause he never ended up drawing what he intended to. He would try to draw a kangaroo, and it'd look crappy and nothing like one. This is one reason why he made up his own animals (it also helped with his rhyming quite a bit). I gave up on drawing quite early, thinking that I was simply untalented in that area. However, after looking at the way Dr. Seuss did things, I'm thinking that maybe it's not too late to try putting pencil to paper and drawing a few sketches.

Reminiscing

Cold, rainy days are good for reminiscing, right? As it happened, my dad was cleaning some stuff out, and he came across an old camera. He tossed it to me and I discovered some pictures of me back in my most awkward phase. In all my years, I avoided feeling out of place by thinking, for a time, that I'm a loner. My mom once told me that, like my oldest brother, I don't need friends to keep going, unlike some people. I let this define me for a time, and I soon found that loners have a hard time having close friends. Not because loners aren't likeable, but because loners isolate themselves, whether consciously or unconsciously. I've learned to be better at making friends, but I have a lil' subconscious worry wort in the back of my mind wondering whether I'll be making the close friends that I have desired.

Quality Time

In response to some advice, I'm gonna try doing some short daily blogs, then maybe a recap of the week like I've been doing (this part is for my own personal reference).

We were in a student leader meeting today, and, although the topic was failure, my mind drifted, 'cause I was alright on the subject. I started to think of what things are most memorable to me. See, my primary love language is Quality Time. This summer, I spent ten or fifteen minutes talking with Katie at a birthday party outside by a pool. This makes me think a lil' bit. The "Quality" in "Quality Time" makes a huge difference. Those ten or fifteen minutes meant more to me than many of the hours that we had hung out. The Time factor was filled by hours of study halls together, but they fade in comparison to the Quality.

Trust VS. Discouragement

Last Friday, I went to work at Canton, which was way more fun this time, 'cause there was work to be done (lifting furniture). It was also Halloween, and I had no costume besides three dots (I was gonna go as a 3-hole-punched London, like Jim in The Office). But there was a costume contest on The Mountain, so Zach Nickel insisted that I dress up. Never being one to turn down such opportunities, I stuck a feather duster in the back of my pants, drew whiskers on my face, and competed as a cat. Unfortunately, I lost to a hairy cross-dresser.

The next day, I went to the lady across from us and got an airbrush tattoo of "D Andrew" (for David Andrew Nemeth) on my chest.

It was a good birthday present for him, and his party that night was great. We watched Iron Man outside, and Trish, Bri, and I snuggled closely on the couch, for it was chilly outside, but this problem was solved when Mrs. Nemeth brought out hot chocolate for everyone. Incredible. That night, after the party, I came across the problem which I blogged about in my previous post. I was an hour and a half past the deadline for Early Decision to BU. I panicked and freaked out, too.
I went out to eat with Trish, Jordan, Hiro, and Pasha the next day, and Trish was in a more reserved mood, and, with me still being upset from the previous night's occurrences, so was I. This helped us to get along until I left for the Kenya meeting (which was just more fundraiser stuff). I went home after this to prep for small groups (God always tells me a whole bunch during that hour before small groups, so when I get there, I feel like changing what our planned discussion would be, but I have a partner, so that don't work). At small groups, we played human Foosball, which involves rolled-up newspapers. I'll take pictures of these things as soon as I get my camera back (Priscilla left it with a friend FOR WEEKS NOW). After all of this, I finally got to tell God how angry I was, and I let the sun go down on my anger towards Him (never, EVER smart to do) for letting me miss that deadline.

Monday, I was angry all day, and God's favor left me. This showed itself with teachers. Mr. Harber gave me an unofficial detention, so I had to stay in during lunch. This punishment was given because while everyone else was making jokes in class (and joking around was the general mood), I made some little joke, and for some reason, Mr. Harber thinks of me as "the feather that breaks the camel's back". I told Newman about my discouragement and anger at God, and he said that he was frustrated too, what with being medically disqualified from going to the air force academy due to braces. However, I knew all day that the only way to fix this with God was to go and sit with Him, talk to Him a lil', then just listen. I demanded that He show me where He was going with all the discouragement. I fell asleep a lil' during this time, and I don't know whether I was asleep or not when God basically told me (kinda angrily), "How dare you make these demands! You cannot comprehend what I am doing, so just trust in me." It was a good quiet time.

Tuesday, I was totally aiming to go to EMP, but then I definitely didn't. Our prayer meeting was good. Jordan also had discouragement, plus some weariness, so we all prayed over that junk. Also, we're having a retreat in January, 'cause One Voice was so effective that it inspired the administration and the prayer team. So yeah, be looking out for that.

THE ELECTION! I, like everyone on myspace, have to state my political opinion, right? Obama is alright. Not only is he alright, but he's also the man that God put in charge, so he's actually the best possible choice for president at the moment, right? Plus, he represents the small but important minority of half-African Americans whose fathers were born in Kenya. We need more representation! Anyway, I'm glad that my Dreams will come true and that Change will happen everywhere and that I won't have to worry about college, car, or house payments because Obama is gonna fix it all. FIX IT. Oh, and we are all Obamans, citizens of Obamadon, the land of Obamanation. And black people are also Obamans. My political opinions matter!

Wednesday, I had some more discouragement. I only cry three or four times a year, for serious situations (or if I'm with my brothers, 'cause they're gifted in that area). I cried that day. Mr. Harber had assigned homework, and, after working some on the board, he suddenly decided to take it up as a quiz grade. I went to his desk and asked him if he could go over one more problem, 'cause I didn't understand it. He said to the class and I, "Everyone sit down," quite seriously, seemingly expecting immediate results. However, the assignment was still in my notebook, and I had yet to tear it out. So I began to ask him if I could tear it out and turn it in before going to my desk, but I could not complete the sentence before he said, "London, come with me. You're getting a real detention." He told Mrs. Rapacz to write down "Disrespect" for the reason. I cried for two reasons (as a man, I have to justify if I can). Number one: just one detention means that I will have to take my Finals at the end of the year, with no chance to cop out of them. Number two: I was not being disrespectful in the least, and felt that it was an unjust punishment. I could not talk to him afterwards, 'cause the voice of wisdom told me that I would end up being disrespectful to him, and I didn't wanna do that. On the way home, I kept myself from getting mad at God. I didn't wanna do that again.

Thursday, I felt a lil' better, 'cause Mr. Harber was on a sailing vacation in the Virgin Islands for a week, and we had subs. Honestly, I wish Mr. Barlow was our normal Physics teacher. I understood what he talked about. This is a new thing. Mrs. Townsend is always hilarious, and she is gonna be giving us Algebra II refreshers. I talked to my One after school about reading the Bible, 'cause (as I told her), it's God's Words for you. It's almost like cheating to hear from God, 'cause all you have to do is read. Following this, I went to Prototype, which was at Caleb's new apartment (a few apartments over from where Preston used to stay). We talked about our Romans stuff, and he told me about the difference between quiet time, Word time, and prayer time. They aren't all the same thing, apparently. Then I drove over to CFNI and hung out with those college kids, found out that some of them hated me talking about Obama, found out that Trish's TVO had accidentally been turned off so we had no Office, then went home.

Today (being Friday), I went to the computer lab and stole my yearbook pictures so I could have them on my computer, then went to the McBrides' house for a prayer team get-together. Apparently, Michelle is annoyed by me at every second. We don't get to hang out much, so maybe I tend to act extremely casual around her. Anyway, it was a good ol' time, and I went home from there and kicked back and relaxed a lil' bit. I've gotta work on my senior thesis tomorrow, 'cause Mr. Beaumont wants a working outline of it and evidence of research by next week, and I have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to show for it.