Thoughts of the Day...

I haven't laughed for a long time. I mean really laughed. Laughed so hard I cried.

I miss my best friend, she is out there, changing the world...Living her dreams. I miss her.

Jesus is so good! My dad feels pretty good today (after radiation) and he doesn't have to do Chemo, only give himself shots for a year! Praise God!!!

I wonder how the culture in heaven will be? I mean every tribe, nation, and tongue all together praising Jesus, so I wonder what parts of our cultures will be redeemed or if it will all just mesh together? What parts of our culture will be different or just gone? Probably shopping and T.V.... ya definitely. ;)

Why do I make everything so complicated? I mean really, just take it as it comes. But no I have to take it, analyze it, figure out the history of it, decide what I think about it, and state my opinion about it. See what God says about it, see what others think about it. Then it rolls around in my brian over and over until I feel I've sincerely dealt with it. ("it" does not necessarily mean anything in particular, just anything that I deal with in my everyday life pretty much.)

Why do we have to always "like" someone? I mean seriously. And why if you don't "like" someone, does everyone have someone for you to like? As if you didn't think of them...."Oh ya you're right, I forgot about him. Ok I like him now." C'mon, I hope it's more than that!

Why do I have to pay for classes I don't want to take?

I really like salad. I like lots of vegetables. I wish I had a salad now.

ok, I am done now.

The Future of Modesty

I am read this essay for class, and it was really good! I thought I would share some...And girls be sure to share it with the world!!!

But is our current interest in modesty and codes of conduct just a craze, or will today's young women succeed in changing the cultural climate? I think we may succeed, because there is enough dissatisfaction with the current state of affairs, as well as a recognition that the revolution our parents engineered hasn't worked. The most common complaint I hear from women my age is that there is no longer any "dating scene". Young people go out in packs, they drink, they "hook up," and the next day life returns to normal. I supposed you could find much depression in this behavior---for starters, that there is not even a pretense of anticipation of a love that will last forever in the cold expression, "to hook up"--- but there is also a lot about this behavior that should give us hope, and that is the fact that all of them have to drink to do it.
They aren't drinking wine to begin a delightful conversation. They are drinking beer and hard liquor to get drunk---precisely to cut of delightful conversation and get "right to the point," as it were. That is the advertised purpose of most college parties, and this kind of drinking is really quite a stark admission: that in fact we realize we are not just like the lower animals, that our romantic longings and hopes should inform our most intimate actions, and that if the prevailing wisdom decrees "hook ups" don't matter, that sex is "no big deal," than we must numb ourselves in order to go through with it. Thus we pay tribute to the importance of modesty by the very lengths to which we must go to stifle it.
We are all modest already, deep down---because we are human---we just need to stop drinking so much, get off our Prozac, and come out of the closet about it. Like Modesty Anonymous. I am writing because I see so much unhappiness around me, so many women settling for less, because I don't want to settle for less and because I don't think you should have to, either. I don't' want to have sex because "I guess" I want it. I want to wait for something more exciting than that, and modesty helps me understand why.

by Wendy Shalit

The essay is a lot longer, but these were some of the highlights. I think it is so important to stand out for modesty in our generation. Let other girls know they aren't the only ones who have those feelings of discontentment, or feeling trapped into the ways our society defines "normal" as having as many "hook ups" as possible. And then being left with that utter feeling of emptiness and defeat after you give in to all those lies. So don't be afraid to speak out, even if it's deemed as uncool.

GUS GUS

"I know! We can call him Actavious, but for short we'll call him Gus." I love Disney's Cinderella. It is my favorite. I have worn out the movie, and we never bought a new one...Until now! My mom got the new limited time DVD, and I love it. Most movies I liked when I was younger and watch now, I think they are stupid. But this movie is funnier now, and it's still my favorite!!!! Gus Gus by far is my favorite character ever!!!! But I don't think I will be collecting memorabilia anytime soon. Favorite parts...

Salacadula Mencha kabulka roo.... Bippity Boppity Boo!!

(the mice make her a dress and say, "surprise!!!" and gus gus says, "da duh HAPPY BIRTHDAY!")

Every part with Gus Gus in it.

Whoa...when all the girls in the room are coming up to the Prince, The Prince goes up to Cinderella....that is being pursued.


A dream is a wish your heart makes.

If you keep on believing, a dream that you wish will come true.

LAST BUT NOT LEAST.... Cinderella is a red head.

???????

whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa.
am i the only one feeling flakey?
feelin' like i think too much?
one day crazy, drank too much coffee,
the next; confused, what are we here for?
i buy "designer love and empty things"
i ache for truth, real raw reality
but i'd rather sit
where tangled stuffed up thoughts
accomplish nothing

Music Speaks

Music speaks to me. My heart swells, feels like it's gonna burst. I've come to believe I am not alone in this, you can see it the people at a concert or in worship at church. I love personal lyrics when you relate to the song, and you think they are explaining your soul. Most times it's hard for me to explain or even know for sure what I am feeling, then you hear it in a song; awwhh, you feel at peace, like you are not alone in what you feel. I get in these ruts of certain singers or style of music. I am pretty much open to anything (except country; absolute NO) but I love music. Here is some of the lines speaking to me now...

"And it's hard to lead the life you choose,
All I wanted
When all your lucks run out on you.
All I wanted
And you can't see when all your dreams are coming true.
Oh yeah, it's easy to forget, yeah.
And you choke on the regret, yeah.
Who did I think I was?"

This one is goo goo dolls Sympathy, I love the line in bold. It's hard for me to dream sometimes, or at least remember them. It seems like it's easy to go with the flow and do what is expected and normal instead of some of the wild and bold things I have dreamt of doing. I don't want to live in regret, I want to live in the now and in God's awesome gift of faith He's given us to jump in and do crazy things for the Kingdom!

"far better is to be with You even for a day
than to live, a thousand years, and to never see one glimpse of your face.
As for me, I want to be close to you."

The desperation band is one of my favs. I am a little obsessed with all their songs (except where that one guy sings kinda funny) but this one seems self explanatory. I sometimes feel like I lived a thousand years without the Lord, and I don't want that again for anything. His love is SO much more fulfilling and amazing than anything else I've ever tried. I am so in love.

Well, you win, it's your show now
So what's it gonna be
Cause people will tune in
How many train wrecks do we need to see
Before we lose touch of
We thought this was low
Well, it's bad, getting worse so
Where'd all the good people go

They got this and that
With a rattle'l'tat
Testin, 1, 2
Man, what you gonna do
Bad news, misused
Got too much to lose
Gimme some truth
Now whose side are we on
Whatever you say, turn on the boobtube
I'm in the mood to obey
So lead me astray, and by the way now

Where'd all the good people go
I've been changing channels
I don't see them on the TV shows
Where'd all the good people go
We got heaps and heaps of what we sow

Sitting around, feeling far away
So far away, but I can feel the debris
Can you feel it
You interrupt me from a friendly conversation
To tell me how great it's all gonna be
You might notice some hesitation
Cause it's important to you, it's not important to me
But way down by the edge of your reason
Well, it's beginning the show

Station through station
Desensitizing the nation
Where'd all the people go
Going, going, gone

Ok, I have this obvious obsessive love affair with good 'ol Jack. He sings with all the things my over analytical mind wonders about, and I agree almost every time with the issues he chooses to emphasize. I think our society is so desensitized with the tragedies all over the world because of the television, and the words in bold describe exactly all the downfalls of our choices to idolize T.V. and the people who are on it. Things are getting worse,and the world is begging for some truth. I am changed by this song.

Ok, so now it's your turn. Tell me some of your favorites and why...

Better Days

And you ask me what I want this year
And I try to make this kind and clear
Just the chance that maybe we'll find better days
Cause I don't need boxes wrapped in strings
And designer love and empty things
Just the chance that maybe we'll find better days

So take these words and sing out loud
Cause everyone is forgiven now
Cause tonight's the night the world begins again

I need someplace simple where we can live
And something only you can give
And that's faith and trust and peace while we're alive
And the one poor Child who saved this world
And there's ten million more who probably could
If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them

So take these words and sing out loud
Cause everyone is forgiven now
Cause tonight's the night the world begins again

I wish everyone was loved tonight
And that someone might stop this endless fight
Just the chance that maybe we'll find better days

So take these words and sing out loud
Cause everyone is forgiven now
Cause tonight's the night the world begins again
Cause tonight's the night the world begins again

by Goo Goo Dolls

Time's a Wastin'

Today, well all weekend in fact, I did nothing. Nothing, constitutes as being unproductive with your time. Here is part of my weekend...
I slept in
I didn't work
I sat around and watched football with my dad
I sat around with my sister
Went to Yankee Candle with my sister
Watched "Punk'd" with my sister (yes very productive)
I watched Hotel Rwanda with my the fam
I did actually make it to church...not TN though
But today, in fact, might have been the most unproductive day to date. I seriously sat around ALL day ( I worked but only 7-11). I sat, watched T.V., read, slept and that is it.
I am totally an extreme person. I am either so busy I am dying or I am so bored and I sleep all the time. Lately I have felt more busy than ever in my life, and now that I have a break, I feel so unproductive and useless in my time. It makes me thankful I am doing something...going to school. So I guess you need those "waste" days so you can feel productive in the busy days.

There's Crazy Weirdos Out There...

Did your mom ever tell you, "You can't go there it's not safe, there's crazy people there." Or, "Be careful, there may be weirdos out tonight." I wonder- why is it not safe for us "normal" people or what is so unsafe about it? I mean, at some point did a normal person say, "I am just gonna go there, " and become a crazy person, so therefore it is safe for them there now; all because they are a crazy weirdo person.
So what my mom ways always saying is... only the crazy weirdo people are safe there. I don't know. I mean, if you go to a dark ally (usually we wouldn't go there cause there might be wierdos in there) but if you did, would you be considered a weirdo? How long does it take to actually become "those crazy weirdo people?" Were they born that way or did it take some time? Are we all the same? Do we all come from the same place? Are we all weirdos?
I think fear has always been instilled in us. From a young age we are being told not to do certain things because "the bogeyman will get you." Then we grow up afraid to risk, afraid to step out and find the crazy weirdo people we are asked to love. I want to find the crazy weirdos and tell them I love them, tell them Jesus loves them, and tell them- "I'm a crazy weirdo too!"

Monotonous Rebellion

I've decided to not do it today... I am changing the system... I am not going to clean my room. And I am not going to finish writing my English paper! I've realized my life is predictable and boring. I can't stand the fact that I do the same thing everyday. I wait on the same customers at work everyday (who by the way order the same weird things everyday!) I am sick of the fact that I always do laundry and it makes my floor a mess, even though I feel like I just cleaned my room. And just when I finished some big assignment, I have another one due again! So I've decided to rebel. That is right, I am rebelling against the monotonous system. No longer will I be a slave to my chores, no longer will I be a slave to school and work. I am free; I am ready to face the day with no expectations or limitations. The sky is the limit!

Ok...So I guess I will pick up my clothes so I don't have to step on them.

Sexy Mama

This is not a model, this is my baby sister. Back off boys, she is only 17. Such a beautiful girl, seriously inside and out. She is a true Moulton, dramatic, funny, and athletic. (Ya, the latter has maybe skipped a sibling.)
I love her so much, I am so proud of her. I remember growing up how sweet and gullible she was, I mean REALLY gullible. It was hilarious actually to tell her things and freaking her out so much that she would cry. She cried all the time actually. And I was so horribly mean to her (just ask her about the knife story). But through God's awesome forgiveness and restoration she has forgiven me of my sinful ways and we are so close! I love chillin' in her room (like right now) and chatting with her, sharing my frustrations, or just jumping around and dancing like crazy. I love who God has created her to be. She is growing up so fast, just such a little lady. She is going to check out Asbury College next week. She explained to me how she wants to give God these next 4-5 years of her life to pour into her and seek Him, she doesn't want to go change the world right away, she wants to discover who God is and what He has for her. What a mature decision. She is my sister, and I love her!!!

Frame of Reference

I learned something in class the other day...Imagine that! Wow going to school really does pay off.
Everything a speaker says is filtered through a listener frame of reference. Frame of reference is the sum of a person's knowledge, experience, goals, values, and attitudes. No two people can have the same frame of reference. It's obvious no two people are the same, I mean we learn that in kindergarten. But for some reason this was freeing to me because I don't have to feel bad for the things I feel or the way I see things, and I don't have to wonder why I sometimes feel like I am the only one, because no one has the same knowledge, experience, goals, values or attitudes as me.
So let that encourage you, whatever unique features make up who you are, we can share some of those same qualities, but no one has all of the same frame of reference as you!
"Te alabo porque soy una creation muy admirable." Salmo 139:14

Jesus, Seen Differently

"Is anyone in the U.S. innocent? Although those at the very pinnacle of the economic pyramid gain the most, millions of us depend - either directly or indirectly - on the exploitation of the lower developing countries for our livelihoods. The resources and cheap labor that feed nearly all our businesses come from places like Indonesia, and very little ever makes it way back. The loans of foreign aid ensure that today's children and their grandchildren will be held hostage. They will have to allow our corporations to ravage their natural resources and will have to forego education, heath, and other social services merely to pay us back. The fact that our own companies already received most of this money to build the power plants, airports, industrial parks does not factor into this formula. Does the excuse that most Americans are unaware of this constitute innocence? Uninformed and intentionally misinformed, yes - but innocent?"

This is from a book I read this summer, Confessions of an Economic Hit Man. The author, John Perkins, is not christian (at least is not a christian author). It's a quote that I think about everyday. I think about the God of righteousness and justice, and I think how is our country going to be held accountable for our actions. I believe we are paid with a price and those who trust in the name of Jesus and repent will be spared. But what is our role in all this? What is my role? How are You calling me to live; what will You say to me on that day when I see Your face? Another quote from the book...

"I had seen Christ standing in front of me. He seemed like the same Jesus I had talked with every night when, as a young boy, I shared my thoughts with him after saying my formal prayers. Except that the Jesus of my childhood was fair-skinned and blond, while this one had curly black hair and dark complexion. He bent down and heaved something up to his shoulder. I expected a cross. Instead, I sae a axle of a car with the attached wheel rim protuding above his, head, forming a metallic halo. Grease dripped like blood down his forehead. He staightened, peered into my eyes, and said, "If I were to come now, you would see my differently." I asked him why. "Because," he answered, "the world has changed."

My heart says, Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful person! But the Lord says, Don't be afraid, behold, I make all things new!

Six Month Adventure...

I like to be familiar with my surroundings, but growing up for me meant that every six months I got a new room, new school, and new friends. I didn’t really have a secure feeling until we moved to the blue house I lived in for seven years. I knew the noises in the middle of the night on the back porch were just cat fights. I knew all the best hiding spots; they were under the stairs. I knew the faster way to go down the stairs, by jumping off the banister (although mom didn’t like that way.) I liked adventure too.
When the opportunity came to go to an unfamiliar land for six months, it gave me mixed feelings. I was asked to go serve in a small community called Loma Linda. I was going to teach English and volunteer in orphanages. I wanted to make a difference in the world. In the beginning, it seemed so exciting and adventurous. I thought of all the new things I could do- meet exotic people, eat foreign food, learn a new language, and see incredible sights! But it all hit me the first month what I really was going to be subject to.
Being welcomed into the Nicaraguan home was not exactly what I expected. The first night I thought we would sit around and get to know each other a bit. I forgot a minor detail; we don’t speak the same language. In the living room, the television was on as an older looking man was sitting on the couch watching it. Two young girls are sitting on the chair by him, and kids are running around playing. Who are all these people, I thought. There I was, bringing out the dictionary, while they all stared and giggled. I tried to bring presents out, then to my surprise the strange man did know some English. “Oh, regalos for the poor blacks,” he said with a smug glare on his face. The girls sitting on the chair laughed, while the rest smiled awkwardly at me. Regalos, meaning presents, was meant to be an ice breaker. It sure didn’t make the conversation get any better, and I most assuredly had a sense of how he felt of my being there.
The first night might have been a little shaky, but it got better. I had been there for a couple weeks and I had not yet met the grandpa, Don Alex. He lived half of the year in the United States and the other half in Nicaragua. He came in a taxi, walked right in through the gate with a million bags and things. He looked like one of those sugar daddies in Vegas as he tried to tip the taxi driver. The kids came out and carried his bags for him. He looked at me and greeted me. I was expecting a polite, normal Nicaraguan greeting, you know, like a “Hola”. But instead I got, “Who are you?” “You weigh too much.” He, out of all the nine people in my house, knew English very well. Great, I thought, just great.
Since I didn’t know Spanish, I didn’t have a car, and I didn’t know the bus system, I was literally stuck in the house. This might have not been so bad, since it was 105 degrees outside, except that there is no air conditioning inside either. Ana Gladys, my house mother, was too busy working at first to show me how to take the bus. She told me stories of foreigners being mugged, robbed, held at gun point, and she tried to convince me that I should not leave the house. “Every time you go out, there are gangs waiting to steal your purse; there was a mugging this week just two blocks away.” This was going to be difficult since I came to work in orphanages and I had other meetings to attend. After about one month, she finally started to allow me to leave the house.
Ana Gladys first taught me the bus system. Easy enough, I thought, just get on the bus and go to your destination. That was what I thought before I actually saw the bus. The buses in Nicaragua are mostly donated from the states. Have you ever seen a picture of a bus from the 1950s? The buses in Nicaragua look exactly like that, with holes in the floors, a big flashy, sparkly sign in the front window that says, “God guides me.” When you add about two hundred people inside it, and you start to go down a hill at 70mph, trusting that the sign on the front window is true, then you know you are truly in Nicaragua.
There are many things growing up that you are taught never to do. You never ride in the back of a moving truck. You never eat food that is not inspected by the health department. You never jump off of a moving vehicle. You never litter. You never eat hot soup when it is 115 degrees outside. All these “I never” situations I thought the whole world knew about. I came to find out that in Nicaragua these are “I daily” statements. Any sense of familiarity here was out of the picture. Absolutely everything was the complete opposite of what I was used to.
At one point I thought I couldn’t take it anymore. It could have been the hot soup in the hot weather or the fact that after 2 months I still couldn’t speak Spanish, but what ever it was I wanted to give up and go home. I felt like I was not making any difference in the lives of these people. I didn’t feel I knew what I was doing or where I was going. I was sobbing. I was crying and I couldn’t explain why. The whole house got involved; they all sat around the table talking and trying to figure out what was wrong with me. They were asking questions and hugging me. I realized how much they cared about me. I had made an impact in some way or otherwise I wouldn’t have nine people around me trying to console me. It was then that I made a decision to stop comparing my opinion of what normal life should be like and start admiring their traditions. This changed everything.
I began to enjoy the loud and crazy bus rides. I made so many friends, and my Spanish improved, the locals no longer stared at me saying, “What?” Don Alex and I became the best of friends, he called me the daughter he never had. I learned about Nicaraguan history and all the terrible natural disasters that have happened there. I learned all the bus routes, even showed a few Americans around town. I started to look forward to riding in the back of pick up trucks. I began to walk the streets more and find my own secret ways through the markets and the neighborhoods. Until one day it was time to leave.
Walking the dusty, brown streets for what could be the last time, made me feel a sense of nostalgia. I had mixed feelings about leaving a place that was now so familiar to me. The loud, obnoxious honking of the horns from the buses, the hot soup, the people staring, the garbage in the streets, it was so different from what I grew up with but now was so expected. Almost like if it’s not loud, dirty and uncomfortable, I will feel out of place. Ana Gladys and I were walking to her father's house for the last time. “Where are you going?” she asked me, “it’s this way.” I smiled to her, “Follow me, I know a different way; it’s faster.”

Awake and Dreaming

My thoughts are racing, and I can't seem to slow them down. Thinking about everything and anything. I am not worried about anything, I am not freaking out; I am just awake and dreaming. Dreaming of the future. When will I meet the one who will fulfill all the love songs I listen too? Will I ever finish school? How will the Lord use me in the nations? I am dreaming about Nicaragua...Again. Will I go back, or better yet...When? Dreaming about the things I know, things I've learned about my country and the ways I choose to live. Wondering what my responsibilities are in living in this 'blessed' society. I am also dreaming of The Day. How will He come? What will it look like to be spotless and blameless? My heart is so full to see that day! It's coming, and I can't wait! I can't wait till my wedding day with the king! I am dreaming of all the peoples, tribes, nations, and tongues...What are they doing now? How long until they can know true love? Someday, this will all be answered, and sometime I should go to sleep. But until then, I will keep dreaming...