Dreams.
I often wonder what they mean.
The other night I was falling. I was falling with my co-worker, my friend.
In mid-flight I said to him, "Well, I guess this is it." I remember feeling unexpectedly calm.
He was a little bit more perturbed, and responded with, "No! This can't be it!"
Feeling like I was floating rather than falling 100 mph toward the solid, rocky ground, I said, "I'm not afraid to die."
"It can't be our time yet!" he yelled.
Suddenly, a parachute came out of nowhere, and each of us struggled to reach the strings. It wouldn't fully open.
As I continued to fall, I thought about why he was so upset about slamming into a solid, rocky ground that would literally shatter every bone in his body as he hit it. I knew that he knew that his mangled, physical body would mean nothing once he died. I knew that he knew that when he hit that ground and passed from this life into the next, he would be safe in the arms of Jesus. I knew that he knew this, so why was he fighting death?
In the split second that I had left before I hit the ground, I thought about his fiance', and instantly knew why he was wasn't ready to leave this world yet.
I closed my eyes. A white light.
I smiled, and hit. No pain. There were arms that caught me. Mighty, yet so gentle.
I don't know what this dream means, but I do know that I am safe in the arms of God now and after I leave this world. Forever.
"I give them (people that follow Jesus) eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand." John 10:28-29
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Self...
Selfishness. Self-sacrifice.
Two totally different words with totally opposite meanings.
Selfishness. Concerned about self. Interested in self. Placing one's own needs or desires in front of other's needs or desires.
Self-sacrifice. Concerned about others. Interested in others. Sacrifice of oneself or one's own interests for the benefit of others.
One of my favorites and I sat at a coffee shop tonight talking about these two words. Selfishness...and...self-sacrifice. We both acknowledged that we are really good at the first one.
It's MY turn to shower and she is messing up MY routine. I always shower at 7 am.
Let her borrow MY necklace? What if she loses it? or breaks it?
We are selfish with our time and our things.
We have some friends that are really good at self-sacrifice.
You're cold? Here, take MY jacket.
I'll eat last in case there isn't enough food.
My favorite and I acknowledged that we should take notes from our friends and work on being less selfish and more self-sacrificial.
Interestingly enough, tonight we had our chance.
When I called one of my other favorites, he seemed to need some encouragement. Hard day.
What part of self came out at this point?
He's sad. I don't want to him to be sad. What can I do to bring him joy? I immediately began mentally planning for a late night. No question. If he needed encouragement my sleep would wait...all night if it needed to.
So maybe I'm a little bit hard on myself...but it's pretty easy to be self-sacrificial with my favorites.
I'm going to try to be more aware of what part of self comes out more often. Not only to my favorites, but to all those around me. I'm going to try to be more like my self-sacrificing friends. Less about me. More about others. I'm going to try to be more like my friend, Jesus.
“Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross!” Philippians 2:6 - 7
Two totally different words with totally opposite meanings.
Selfishness. Concerned about self. Interested in self. Placing one's own needs or desires in front of other's needs or desires.
Self-sacrifice. Concerned about others. Interested in others. Sacrifice of oneself or one's own interests for the benefit of others.
One of my favorites and I sat at a coffee shop tonight talking about these two words. Selfishness...and...self-sacrifice. We both acknowledged that we are really good at the first one.
It's MY turn to shower and she is messing up MY routine. I always shower at 7 am.
Let her borrow MY necklace? What if she loses it? or breaks it?
We are selfish with our time and our things.
We have some friends that are really good at self-sacrifice.
You're cold? Here, take MY jacket.
I'll eat last in case there isn't enough food.
My favorite and I acknowledged that we should take notes from our friends and work on being less selfish and more self-sacrificial.
Interestingly enough, tonight we had our chance.
When I called one of my other favorites, he seemed to need some encouragement. Hard day.
What part of self came out at this point?
He's sad. I don't want to him to be sad. What can I do to bring him joy? I immediately began mentally planning for a late night. No question. If he needed encouragement my sleep would wait...all night if it needed to.
So maybe I'm a little bit hard on myself...but it's pretty easy to be self-sacrificial with my favorites.
I'm going to try to be more aware of what part of self comes out more often. Not only to my favorites, but to all those around me. I'm going to try to be more like my self-sacrificing friends. Less about me. More about others. I'm going to try to be more like my friend, Jesus.
“Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross!” Philippians 2:6 - 7
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Stomp
If you wanna stomp the devil down
Stomp twice.
Hip hop has never been a choice music for me. Sure, I'll move my body to the beat, but it's not typical that I search for hip hop on iTunes.
One of my favorites was asked by one of his favorites to add a lil electric guitar to some hip hop beats for a concert this weekend. Truthfully, my main objective in driving 3 1/2 hours to the concert was to support my favorite in his love for playing music...but after hearing the band rehearse the night before the event, I was pumped to bounce to some hip hops beats.
With lyrics like, "stop, drop, and roll with the Holy Ghost", how could I not enjoy the show?
The morning after the concert, the band lead worship for a church in town. One of the cover songs they did with a hip hop twist was called "Enemy's Camp." It goes a lil something like this...
I went to the enemy's camp
And I took back what he stole from me
He's under my feet
He's under my feet
If you wanna stomp the devil down
Stomp twice
Because of my new appreciation for hip hop, I was paying more attention to the beat of the song rather the words. It wasn't until the preacher brought the lyrics into his sermon that the light bulb went on and I was reminded of the power of Satan. Sometimes I forget that Satan is constantly attacking my mind and soul like a lion seeking to devour it's prey.
Satan is powerful...
BUT...
...God is even more powerful.
Do you remember the Crocodile Hunter? I know he died in a freak accident a few years ago, but let's go back to his glory days. What were the chances that a crocodile was going to beat his hunter in a battle? No chance. Steve Erwin was hunting crocodiles for years and was killed by a sting ray. Not a crocodile. Even though the crocodile is a mighty beast, Steve Erwin was more powerful. A croc trying to beat the Croc hunter is kind of like Satan trying to beat God. He gets stomped down each time.
If you wanna stomp the devil down
Stomp twice.
The problem is I tend forget that I can't stomp the devil down in my own power.
So sometimes the devil beats me...
BUT...
...God beats the devil every time.
If I want to stomp the devil down, I can stomp him down through the power of my Lord, Jesus Christ. Not through my power. His. I can stomp the devil down twice. Thrice. Every time with the power of my almighty God. I just need a reminder once in a while.
If I wanna stomp the devil down
Stomp twice...
...with God's stomp.
Stomp twice.
Hip hop has never been a choice music for me. Sure, I'll move my body to the beat, but it's not typical that I search for hip hop on iTunes.
One of my favorites was asked by one of his favorites to add a lil electric guitar to some hip hop beats for a concert this weekend. Truthfully, my main objective in driving 3 1/2 hours to the concert was to support my favorite in his love for playing music...but after hearing the band rehearse the night before the event, I was pumped to bounce to some hip hops beats.
With lyrics like, "stop, drop, and roll with the Holy Ghost", how could I not enjoy the show?
The morning after the concert, the band lead worship for a church in town. One of the cover songs they did with a hip hop twist was called "Enemy's Camp." It goes a lil something like this...
I went to the enemy's camp
And I took back what he stole from me
He's under my feet
He's under my feet
If you wanna stomp the devil down
Stomp twice
Because of my new appreciation for hip hop, I was paying more attention to the beat of the song rather the words. It wasn't until the preacher brought the lyrics into his sermon that the light bulb went on and I was reminded of the power of Satan. Sometimes I forget that Satan is constantly attacking my mind and soul like a lion seeking to devour it's prey.
Satan is powerful...
BUT...
...God is even more powerful.
Do you remember the Crocodile Hunter? I know he died in a freak accident a few years ago, but let's go back to his glory days. What were the chances that a crocodile was going to beat his hunter in a battle? No chance. Steve Erwin was hunting crocodiles for years and was killed by a sting ray. Not a crocodile. Even though the crocodile is a mighty beast, Steve Erwin was more powerful. A croc trying to beat the Croc hunter is kind of like Satan trying to beat God. He gets stomped down each time.
If you wanna stomp the devil down
Stomp twice.
The problem is I tend forget that I can't stomp the devil down in my own power.
So sometimes the devil beats me...
BUT...
...God beats the devil every time.
If I want to stomp the devil down, I can stomp him down through the power of my Lord, Jesus Christ. Not through my power. His. I can stomp the devil down twice. Thrice. Every time with the power of my almighty God. I just need a reminder once in a while.
If I wanna stomp the devil down
Stomp twice...
...with God's stomp.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Least of These
For 40 hours in June, I will have the opportunity to experience what it feels like to be homeless.
When I was growing up, I lived in the low income housing section of town, but even so, I had a roof over my head. I had 3 nutritious meals a day. I had different clothes to put on each morning, and most importantly, I had people around who loved me. In that small town, I never saw poverty. It existed, but I never saw it.
The first time I experienced poverty was this past winter. I traveled to Guatemala City where there is a garbage dump that over 10,500 people live and work in each day. Thousands of humans spend 14 hours a day in the extreme heat or heavy rain searching through infected rubbish to provide for their families. Their works consists of searching for pieces of recycled materials so that at the end of the day, they can sell their findings for a few pennies. I saw poverty in Guatemala City.
Since I've returned from Guatemala, I have had the opportunity to volunteer at a couple homeless shelters. Each time has been different, and each time I get glimpses of the lives of people who don't have roofs over their heads...who don't get 3 nutritious meals a day...who have to wear the same dirty, stinky clothes day in and day out...who rarely feel love.
But...God is at work through His people!
There's an organization in Guatemala City called Potter's House that reaches out to the people who live and work in the dump. Their vision is that “One day not even one Treasure will scavenge in all of beautiful Guatemala”. With the help of short and long-term missionaries, the staff of Potter's House works hard to build houses for the poor...to feed the hungry...to the clothe the least of these...and most importantly, to love God's treasures.
There is a group of Jesus followers that I gather with on Mondays. Once a month during our gathering, we spend our time feeding the hungry at the homeless shelters...clothing the least of these...and most importantly, spreading the love of Jesus to those who desperately need Him. They have nothing else. No home. Little food. Dirty, stinky clothes. They need love. We give them love.
God is at work through His people! In Guatemala and right here in my backyard.
I don't know that a 40 hour poverty simulation is going to give me an accurate picture of what it's like to be homeless, but it will surely give me a glimpse into what it is like to be one of the least of these.
Is God at work in your backyard?
When I was growing up, I lived in the low income housing section of town, but even so, I had a roof over my head. I had 3 nutritious meals a day. I had different clothes to put on each morning, and most importantly, I had people around who loved me. In that small town, I never saw poverty. It existed, but I never saw it.
The first time I experienced poverty was this past winter. I traveled to Guatemala City where there is a garbage dump that over 10,500 people live and work in each day. Thousands of humans spend 14 hours a day in the extreme heat or heavy rain searching through infected rubbish to provide for their families. Their works consists of searching for pieces of recycled materials so that at the end of the day, they can sell their findings for a few pennies. I saw poverty in Guatemala City.
Since I've returned from Guatemala, I have had the opportunity to volunteer at a couple homeless shelters. Each time has been different, and each time I get glimpses of the lives of people who don't have roofs over their heads...who don't get 3 nutritious meals a day...who have to wear the same dirty, stinky clothes day in and day out...who rarely feel love.
But...God is at work through His people!
There's an organization in Guatemala City called Potter's House that reaches out to the people who live and work in the dump. Their vision is that “One day not even one Treasure will scavenge in all of beautiful Guatemala”. With the help of short and long-term missionaries, the staff of Potter's House works hard to build houses for the poor...to feed the hungry...to the clothe the least of these...and most importantly, to love God's treasures.
There is a group of Jesus followers that I gather with on Mondays. Once a month during our gathering, we spend our time feeding the hungry at the homeless shelters...clothing the least of these...and most importantly, spreading the love of Jesus to those who desperately need Him. They have nothing else. No home. Little food. Dirty, stinky clothes. They need love. We give them love.
God is at work through His people! In Guatemala and right here in my backyard.
Jesus says, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' Matthew 25:40
Through loving people, we love God. We love God by loving the least of these.
I don't know that a 40 hour poverty simulation is going to give me an accurate picture of what it's like to be homeless, but it will surely give me a glimpse into what it is like to be one of the least of these.
Is God at work in your backyard?
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Empathy. Strength or weakness?
Colon cancer.
Tonight as I sat listening to Kary Oberbrunner talk about the Kingdom of God, he told a story about a man, Mark Palmer, who died of colon cancer.
As soon as those two words left his lips, my stomach knotted.
Empathy. Strength or weakness?
About 8 months ago one of my favorites called as I was just arriving at a summer party. "I am following my dad to the ER. Pray."
My stomach was instantly in knots. My appetite was gone. I literally felt sick.
I gathered my friends in a circle, and we prayed. I knew the situation wasn't good, but I absolutely believed God could heal my favorite's dad.
Colon cancer.
It spread. FAST.
Stomach in knots.
Empathy. Strength or weakness?
My favorite's dad fought the cancer for about 7 weeks. Then he went to be with Jesus.
God didn't heal my favorite's dad, but I absolutely believe He is capable of healing...if it's in His plans. Did I want my favorite's dad to be healed? Of course! But I trust that God knows better than I know. He IS my creator. Kary says that life is about advancing God's kingdom rather than our own selfish kingdoms. Jesus said that too. "I must preach the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns also, because that is why I was sent." (Luke 4:43) Maybe my favorite's dad had fulfilled God's purposes here. Maybe my favorite's dad had advanced God's kingdom enough, so He called him to rest. I bet God said something like, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
There were many at the funeral. My favorite read a profound journal entry about his dad and lead worship through song. Heavyhearted, but joyous.
As I write, my stomach knots. I'm instantly brought back to that day I received the phone call. The 7 week journey walking alongside of one of my favorites feeling helpless. I hear those two words.
Colon Cancer.
Stomach in knots.
Empathy. Strength or weakness?
According to the StrengthsFinder, empathy, the ability to sense and understand someone else's feelings as if they were one's own, is a strength of mine.
Sometimes I wonder...strength?...or weakness?
Tonight as I sat listening to Kary Oberbrunner talk about the Kingdom of God, he told a story about a man, Mark Palmer, who died of colon cancer.
As soon as those two words left his lips, my stomach knotted.
Empathy. Strength or weakness?
About 8 months ago one of my favorites called as I was just arriving at a summer party. "I am following my dad to the ER. Pray."
My stomach was instantly in knots. My appetite was gone. I literally felt sick.
I gathered my friends in a circle, and we prayed. I knew the situation wasn't good, but I absolutely believed God could heal my favorite's dad.
Colon cancer.
It spread. FAST.
Stomach in knots.
Empathy. Strength or weakness?
My favorite's dad fought the cancer for about 7 weeks. Then he went to be with Jesus.
God didn't heal my favorite's dad, but I absolutely believe He is capable of healing...if it's in His plans. Did I want my favorite's dad to be healed? Of course! But I trust that God knows better than I know. He IS my creator. Kary says that life is about advancing God's kingdom rather than our own selfish kingdoms. Jesus said that too. "I must preach the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns also, because that is why I was sent." (Luke 4:43) Maybe my favorite's dad had fulfilled God's purposes here. Maybe my favorite's dad had advanced God's kingdom enough, so He called him to rest. I bet God said something like, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
There were many at the funeral. My favorite read a profound journal entry about his dad and lead worship through song. Heavyhearted, but joyous.
As I write, my stomach knots. I'm instantly brought back to that day I received the phone call. The 7 week journey walking alongside of one of my favorites feeling helpless. I hear those two words.
Colon Cancer.
Stomach in knots.
Empathy. Strength or weakness?
According to the StrengthsFinder, empathy, the ability to sense and understand someone else's feelings as if they were one's own, is a strength of mine.
Sometimes I wonder...strength?...or weakness?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Music. It speaks to me.
I don't have a musical bone in my body.
Actually, I can keep up with most people on the dance floor...as long as I'm at a wedding.
And I can play a mean set of drums in Rockband...as long as I'm on the easiest level and I don't have to use the foot pedal.
Well, and I played the recorder in 4th grade.
But aside from that...
You don't want to be in the car with me when I'm screeching at the top of my lungs...especially when I'm rockin' out to Bon Jovi or Skillet.
I don't have a musical bone in my body, BUT music is a necessity in my life.
It gives me energy.
It gives me hope.
It soothes me.
It puts a smile on my face.
It makes me want to dance.
It makes me want to cry.
It speaks to me.
I heard this song by Tenth Avenue North two times today. I can't help but believe that I was meant to hear this on the radio today...twice.
Why are you striving these days
Why are you trying to earn grace
Why are you crying
Let me lift up your face
Just don't turn away
Why are you looking for love
Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough
To where will you go child
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run
Chorus:
And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you
Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life
(Chorus 2x)
Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go
(Chorus 2x)
Last night I had what I call "deep life conversations" with some of my favorite people. Deep life conversations are special because they don't happen all the time. They are even more special when I am with my favorites. We talked about death, marriage, and gender differences, among other things.
What drives men and women in a relationship?
Our verdict...
In general...Men are more physically driven than women. Women are more emotionally driven than men.
We talked about how women long to be loved...how women long to be held...how women long to be protected...how women long to find all of that in a man...and without him, feel empty.
The lyrics.
God loves me. God is holding me in His hands. God is by my side. God can fill me....if I let Him.
Music. It speaks to me.
After we had deep life conversations, one of my favorites who IS musically inclined pulled out his guitar and we sang together. I sounded terrible, but I found hope. I was soothed. I felt close to my favorites. I talked to my God. I smiled.
I don't have a musical bone in my body, BUT music is a necessity in my life.
Actually, I can keep up with most people on the dance floor...as long as I'm at a wedding.
And I can play a mean set of drums in Rockband...as long as I'm on the easiest level and I don't have to use the foot pedal.
Well, and I played the recorder in 4th grade.
But aside from that...
You don't want to be in the car with me when I'm screeching at the top of my lungs...especially when I'm rockin' out to Bon Jovi or Skillet.
I don't have a musical bone in my body, BUT music is a necessity in my life.
It gives me energy.
It gives me hope.
It soothes me.
It puts a smile on my face.
It makes me want to dance.
It makes me want to cry.
It speaks to me.
I heard this song by Tenth Avenue North two times today. I can't help but believe that I was meant to hear this on the radio today...twice.
Why are you striving these days
Why are you trying to earn grace
Why are you crying
Let me lift up your face
Just don't turn away
Why are you looking for love
Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough
To where will you go child
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run
Chorus:
And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you
Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life
(Chorus 2x)
Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go
(Chorus 2x)
Last night I had what I call "deep life conversations" with some of my favorite people. Deep life conversations are special because they don't happen all the time. They are even more special when I am with my favorites. We talked about death, marriage, and gender differences, among other things.
What drives men and women in a relationship?
Our verdict...
In general...Men are more physically driven than women. Women are more emotionally driven than men.
We talked about how women long to be loved...how women long to be held...how women long to be protected...how women long to find all of that in a man...and without him, feel empty.
The lyrics.
God loves me. God is holding me in His hands. God is by my side. God can fill me....if I let Him.
Music. It speaks to me.
After we had deep life conversations, one of my favorites who IS musically inclined pulled out his guitar and we sang together. I sounded terrible, but I found hope. I was soothed. I felt close to my favorites. I talked to my God. I smiled.
I don't have a musical bone in my body, BUT music is a necessity in my life.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
What's in a nickname?
Have you ever had a nickname? If not, let me know and I'll give you one.
My grandpa used to call me The Man in the Moon. Why? No idea. I'm a girl. I've never been to the moon. I should ask him sometime.
In elementary school my nickname was Einstein. I was kind of a nerd. Ok, I was a nerd. But that nickname was much better than Beached Whale. Kids can be so cruel. I've lost touch with that friend, but I hope she has forgotten her nickname from grade school.
Monkey. I used to climb a lot in college. Super high energy. I like monkeys so I didn't mind that name.
When I think about my current nickname, I smile.
T$ can be translated as T-Money, T-Dollars, T-Quetzales. The irony is that the green stuff that we all wish grew on trees has nothing to do with my nickname. Sure I like having enough money to support myself...to share with others...like Potter's House (There will be plenty of posts about PH in the future so stay tuned)...to buy my favorite songs on iTunes...to vacation in the mountains...but T$ isn't special because of money.
Just under 2 years ago, one of my favorite persons, B, decided that I needed a nickname. T-dog. That stuck for all of 3 days. It just didn't fit. I look nothing like Snoop. How 'bout T$. Perfect.
B was popular. People listened to B. He had a way with words. Soon my boss began calling me T$. Then my close friends. T$ is special because the people that call me T$ are special. Not just anyone calls me T$. You have to know me pretty well to use my nickname...or some variation of it.
One day another one of my favorites, A, wanted to be different so he called me T-Shift4 (figure it out?). He found out pretty quickly that I didn't like that. He resorted to T-Dollars. That's special. What's even more special is almost every time I call him now, he answers with "Dollar dollar bill, yooo." That probably means nothing to you. But it's special to me. He's special to me.
Quetzales is the currency of Guatemala. I recently got back from a missions trip where I built a house for some beautiful people who live in the Guatemala City garbage dump. Yup. There are people in the world that live and work in a garbage dump. I went down with 9 other people to join God in His healing of the world. Antonio was the master construction worker/missionary who showed me how to stucco, use a power drill and build a stove...among other things. Antonio heard my nickname, but wanted to be different just like A wanted to be different. TQ, short for T-Quetzales. TQ is special. Antonio is special for many reasons.
F and D call me $, no T. Just $. D has tried to make T-Party stick because he wants to be different too, but it hasn't yet.
A lot of people call me T, no $. Just T. I got to spend time with one of my favorites today. He calls me T. He has AIDS so sometimes he forgets my full name. T is easy to remember. We ate delicious apple pancakes with our friends and played UNO. It was a glorious day.
As I finish writing, I notice that most of my nicknames were given to me by the male species. Interesting. I don't want to exclude the ladies in my life. They are just as special. I suppose I have a few nicknames from some special women. Just less unique than from the gentlemen.
Gram calls me Babe. She's a SUPER special woman.
Girlfriends call me Hun, Sweetie, Honeybear...ok, not honeybear...just wanted to see if I could get a reaction.
I have a friend who works at Potter's House who recently nicknamed me Bite Size. Her explanation. Think of a mini snickers. It leaves you satisfied, but wanting more.
Nicknames. Special names given by special people.
My grandpa used to call me The Man in the Moon. Why? No idea. I'm a girl. I've never been to the moon. I should ask him sometime.
In elementary school my nickname was Einstein. I was kind of a nerd. Ok, I was a nerd. But that nickname was much better than Beached Whale. Kids can be so cruel. I've lost touch with that friend, but I hope she has forgotten her nickname from grade school.
Monkey. I used to climb a lot in college. Super high energy. I like monkeys so I didn't mind that name.
When I think about my current nickname, I smile.
T$ can be translated as T-Money, T-Dollars, T-Quetzales. The irony is that the green stuff that we all wish grew on trees has nothing to do with my nickname. Sure I like having enough money to support myself...to share with others...like Potter's House (There will be plenty of posts about PH in the future so stay tuned)...to buy my favorite songs on iTunes...to vacation in the mountains...but T$ isn't special because of money.
Just under 2 years ago, one of my favorite persons, B, decided that I needed a nickname. T-dog. That stuck for all of 3 days. It just didn't fit. I look nothing like Snoop. How 'bout T$. Perfect.
B was popular. People listened to B. He had a way with words. Soon my boss began calling me T$. Then my close friends. T$ is special because the people that call me T$ are special. Not just anyone calls me T$. You have to know me pretty well to use my nickname...or some variation of it.
One day another one of my favorites, A, wanted to be different so he called me T-Shift4 (figure it out?). He found out pretty quickly that I didn't like that. He resorted to T-Dollars. That's special. What's even more special is almost every time I call him now, he answers with "Dollar dollar bill, yooo." That probably means nothing to you. But it's special to me. He's special to me.
Quetzales is the currency of Guatemala. I recently got back from a missions trip where I built a house for some beautiful people who live in the Guatemala City garbage dump. Yup. There are people in the world that live and work in a garbage dump. I went down with 9 other people to join God in His healing of the world. Antonio was the master construction worker/missionary who showed me how to stucco, use a power drill and build a stove...among other things. Antonio heard my nickname, but wanted to be different just like A wanted to be different. TQ, short for T-Quetzales. TQ is special. Antonio is special for many reasons.
F and D call me $, no T. Just $. D has tried to make T-Party stick because he wants to be different too, but it hasn't yet.
A lot of people call me T, no $. Just T. I got to spend time with one of my favorites today. He calls me T. He has AIDS so sometimes he forgets my full name. T is easy to remember. We ate delicious apple pancakes with our friends and played UNO. It was a glorious day.
As I finish writing, I notice that most of my nicknames were given to me by the male species. Interesting. I don't want to exclude the ladies in my life. They are just as special. I suppose I have a few nicknames from some special women. Just less unique than from the gentlemen.
Gram calls me Babe. She's a SUPER special woman.
Girlfriends call me Hun, Sweetie, Honeybear...ok, not honeybear...just wanted to see if I could get a reaction.
I have a friend who works at Potter's House who recently nicknamed me Bite Size. Her explanation. Think of a mini snickers. It leaves you satisfied, but wanting more.
Nicknames. Special names given by special people.
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