Eat Music Notes For Breakfast and You'll Look Slimmer

I've realized that what I wanted, is not, what I wanted....

In early February I signed up for this computer program that would allow me access to unlimited music from tons of different genres for one flat price on a monthly basis. I thought it was such a great investment; so much music for one monthly price. How could I say no?! I have a huge passion for music. I should take advantage of having the world of song at my fingertips. (Yes, I am a sucker for those quirky little deals). Today, being the first of the month and the day the automatic credit card payment was to go though to the music company, I received an email saying my account has been renewed.  I realized something. I have spent enough money on music to buy a good amount of groceries. My priorities are a little off. Music is definitely my life's rhythm, but there are times when one has to ask themselves, "what's really important at this point?" And act on it. So I'm cancelling by subscription to this library of music. 

The reason for this blog entry isn't to tell the world about how I regret using my grocery money on music. There's something a little deeper. I'm talking about misplaced priorities. I made a swift decision that should be reconsidered. A lot of times we think that something is what we want only to find out that it really wasn't what we wanted for ourselves. It could be that unlimited music library that takes away from your food budget, or that chocolate cake after you've already ate an entire meal, or that person you know isn't the one God has for you but you go for it anyway, or that friend you associate yourself with who isn't the best influence, or allowing yourself to get into a conversation that isn't really appropriate. It's easy to loose sight of priorities. Thankfully there are things such as "unsubscribe" buttons that give us the chance to redeem ourselves. 

Hello Life, You Seem A Little Difficult

A picture I took while walking and thinking.

I've had a monstrous amount of things on my mind lately:

money, college, job, work, skills, school, grades, moving, car insurance, friends......
decisions, morals, values, drinking, smoking, art, voting.....
being an adult, driving, car, tuition, application, relationships, love, independence, boys, plans.....
God, destiny, callings, praying, volunteering, missions, laundry, responsibilities, style, modesty, standards....
fun, entertainment, Facebook, social life, church, and eating.....

Dealing with the combination of all these thoughts has become overwhelming at times (This is why I haven't blogged in a while). Sometimes I am so concerned about everything I start to tear up. I want to have control of everything; yet, at the same time, I don't want to have the responsibility of controlling anything. (These are truly the times I should reach for God.)

I see teens my age goofing off when it comes to school, watching television for hours at a time without a care in the world and doing whatever, whenever; carefree.  I should be proud to say I have a better perspective; a deeper revelation about life, but, in all honestly, I just feel old. There are days I feel OLD. When did all these concerns creep up on me?! Man, they are sneaky. And frustrating. And...(Let's give it to God).

My dad calls it "being mature".

Yet, when you see a group of kids sitting on the side of the road while you're on your way home from a night's work you don't really say, "Hm, they are just immature young people who haven't gotten a grip on responsibility yet." You think, "I must be getting older." proceeded by a bummed look on your face.

BUT, the concerns, struggles and all those things that have me feeling old now, will make me wiser! So for now, I need to keep saying, "Hello Life, you look difficult, but you will also make me wise."

Running Up Escalators

Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Matthew 6:34

When I was younger I remember running up the escalators at the JCPenny store and trying to reach the top before anyone else. Of course, I'd always win because no normal person would dart up a stairwell that automatically ascends to the higher level (except the very hyper Ceci). There I'd stand panting for breath with my hair displaced as a result of my sudden sprint with eyes wide (sweet victory). As the shopping trip carried on and everyone enjoyed themselves, I would be the first to get tired... my energies were prematurely exerted at the entrance. I'd turn cranky and ask myself why I felt like I had HAD to run up the metal moving stairs. Silly girl.

I've noticed this pattern in my life- trying too hard too early. I sometimes wear myself out when I should be relaxing; hassle over a situation when it really isn't something to stress over, or jump into meaningful relationship before its God's time. In the beginning the sense  of control, independent and responsibility seem to be there, but before long, I feel the way I'd feel at the end of a shopping trip. Tired and regretful. Honestly, I enjoy being first (in life, love, success and all things "grown-up") but I'm learning now that it's better to take a normal pace (let Life be an escalator) so that I'll still have it together at the end. 

Double Lives Means Double Meals

As teens we want to be able to make our own decisions (no matter how destructive), live our own lives (without limits), to choose words (no matter how profane). If we feel restricted or stifled by someone, we defy. Some of us rebel in a way that can be seen. We’re told to do one thing and we intentionally do it the opposite way. Others, are more subtle in their defiance. We form another life. Secret and unseen. Within it we are who we want to be, without another’s influence on us.

As I think about my past I ponder:

There’s a problem, though, with this second life. It has no rules, limits or boundaries. When living a life without the protection of wisdom and reason self destruction is inevitable. Yep, it may seem like freedom now, but in the long run the things I did: broke the trust, rose the guilt and took me far from God.

Before I knew it, I didn’t know who “Cecilia” was. Was she the “good girl” who listened to the latest Christian music releases? Or was she that girl who secretly did things that would keep her from sleeping at night? Nope. She was both. I was burdened with living two lives. Two very real lives but two very real lies.

Long story short, this is what I did:

But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God. 2 Corinthians 4:2

I renounced it and thanked God for his redeeming power along with super supportive parents. My life isn’t perfect nowadays. I have my mistakes, my bad decisions, but I live one life now.  And if I pursue something that might introduce “another” life, I get back in check.  Because really, who wants to eat 6 meals a day...double meals?

Pizza With a Side of Faithful

I just started training at a local pizzeria. (Yes, can anyone say free pizza! I'm all smiles.) One of the things stressed while in training is faithfulness; coming in on time and making sure you do things the same and consistently. Faithfulness at a pizza place job?! Indeed, it's  very important. Who would have known! It's not just slapping dough and memorizing pizza toppings. If faithfulness is vital in making a 14" pizza pie then how much more important is it when it comes to the most precious relationship we have?!

Moreover, it is [essentially] required of stewards that a man should be found faithful [proving himself worthy of trust].

1 Corinthians 4: 2

Here's to applying pizzeria training to my relationship! 

Frozen Fingers Make Good Writers

What's cold, smiles and fills out a ton of applications?

A young "ex-pat" who has recently re-entered her country and is looking for a job.

She learned a few lessons today:

One of the applications filled today.

- It's the year 2012 and 89% of all applications should be done online. (I found this out after walking 25 minutes, in the cold, to the shopping center at which I was planning on applying, at least I got in some exercise). 


- I need to be over 18 to work at a warehouse. (I guess putting teens and saws in the same building is dangerous??) 


- After just one day of job hunting. I found some promising places. (Thus, I'm not understanding the whole "I can't get a job" thing that I've heard some say.) 

It's a matter of determination and self motivation. I'm not an expert in job hunting or anything, but it's easy to find an excuse for something that just takes some effort to get done. If you go our there, in the ice, with a grin on your face and fill out some papers you may end up with some money in your pocket later on.

My Toilet Paper is a Blanket

After dismounting the plane from Port-au-Prince, Haiti to Newark, New Jersey:

I’m standing in line to go to the immigration desk I see a lady directing people to their corresponding line.  My first thought: “She looks like a clown”, with her heavy eye makeup and 5-tones-too-dark lipstick. As I looked at her I saw that she had both fake eyelashes and fake hair. This is America? No. America can’t be summed up in one artificial woman.

Fast forward a few more hours. I’m sitting at the toilet. My arm reaches for the toilet paper; I grab a hold of it, “Gosh! I’m about to wipe with a blanket!” The toilet paper was so thick, full and plush I didn’t know what to do. I rerolled it and ripped off two dainty squares, one. by. one.  

Looks like I’ve come to a land where we have more than enough…and maybe, sometimes, too much; too much makeup, too much synthetic stuff and even too much toilet paper. 

Outfits, Eggs and Expectations

I've chosen my outfit for tomorrow's voyage back to the freezing state of Pennsylvania. A tank top, one t-shirt, one heavy shirt, one pullover hoody and one zipper down sweater. Yes, I passionately dislike the cold. In fact, not many people like the cold. Another thing people don't enjoy is lowering their standards and changing their expectations.

Whooooa! I know I caught you off guard with that one. Let me back up a little.


Along with thinking about what to cloth myself with, today, I also thought about relationships and what we, as people, expect out of them.

Gosh, okay maybe you still don't see the connection. My deepest apologies for the inevitable confusion.

Really, from the start we have this idea, this image in our head about what we want, need, and desire in someone else. And then, we do this freakish "egg-hunt" for someone to be ALL that. Then there are times when we find an "egg" (even if we're not looking) and they meet almost all the criteria but are shy a few for the major, ermmmm, elements. So what do we do? Toss the egg? Keep it and change it? Find another one? Sadly, all I did was think today, not find answers.


I do know that tomorrow I will experience coldness against my cheeks and therefore I'm preparing for it with many layer of clothing.

Teen Mom?

I never really wanted to be a teen mom, but maybe it's too late.

Estherline, (our nine year old, in third grade) came home from school and, like everyday, she relayed her school day to me. This is a daily routine that I sometimes find myself subconsciously ignoring. She told me about who got in trouble for not completing their homework. I started to produce the robotic nods so that she knew I was listening. She repeated the jokes that the class clown used to interrupt the lesson. She told me what grade she received for her recitation of her history lesson. Then she shared about what the teacher talked about; mothers. Now, Estherline lives here with her three brothers and hasn't seen her biological mother for a while. I was suddenly intrigued, I wondered how Estherline participated in such a class conversation. I listened as she began her extended explanation of what was said. 

Estherline

"The teacher had us stand up in front of the class, one-by-one and talk about our mothers. We had to tell what they do for us, what they buy for us, how they take care of us."

     
As she said this, I thought, "What in the world did this girl say to the class?!" 

She continued, "I told them my mom's name is Cecilia."

My heart stopped...

"She takes care of me and helps me when I need help."

I didn't know how to respond...

I looked at her with a blank look on my face, let out a nervous laugh and said, "Ok...What. Else. happened today?"

Later on, I told my dad what she shared with me. He explained that the concept of "mother" is slightly different than what we would normally think. "Mother" is the one who takes care of you everyday.  

If Estherline looks to me as her mother I'm going to do my best to "take care of her everyday", thus making me a teen mom. 

It's Not That Bad; Being Alone.

At times when you see someone going through a circumstance the best way to show them that you care is to let them go through their situation alone. It’s when they are alone that change will have complete liberty to take place. 

They will be forced to recognize themselves for who they really are. 

Sometimes, if we aren't careful, our intention to make someone feel good about who they are can be like a sheet that blocks them from seeing their true self. If they can’t see their true nature they won’t see what needs to be changed.  

Similarly they can gain a perspective on who they desire to be.  

It is the human condition to want to help another but there are times when we put so much importance onto our own influence on someone that we forget to allow God to provide the purpose and stability that they so desperately need. 

(Adapted from a Journal entry I had written on April 26. 2011)

Pancakes

Ever since I was a child whenever my father made pancakes for breakfast, which was every once in a while, he'd make a personalized pancake with the first initial of our names. "E" for my brother, Elijah. and a "C" for Cecilia. This was tradition. This was the way pancakes were done in the Sweeney household.

This morning my dad made pancakes. He made Elijah's stack first. My mom put the plate in front of my brother. There is was a beautifully golden "E" on top of a pile of round, warm pancakes. Elijah asked me for a cup of water so I stood, located a cup and filled it up. By the time I sat again my plate was on the table. I saw what looked like the letter "L" and another pancake that were in the shape of eyeglasses or the letter "B". I sat there for a minute and just looked at it trying to figure out what it meant. I picked up my fork, still dumbstruck. 

Then, it hit me. 

The "L" was a 1.

 The "B", an 8. 

18!

I started to laugh! 

"Thanks!" I said, as I flooded my pancakes with syrup. 

Confessions of An 18 Year Old

Since today is my 18th birthday, the day I official can say "I am an adult", I'd thought I'd publish a confession for my parents entertainment and all those who read my blog.

When I was about 9 years old, my father bought these modern eyeglasses. They were the kind that you could bend every which way and they would never break. He had them for about a month or so, when, one day, he asked me to wash them for him. This would be my first time handling these super, special, new glasses. My immature and innocent 9 year old mind couldn't fully grasp the fact that these glasses were, in no way, breakable. It was unbelievable! I thought it was phenomenal, innovative and almost scifi.

So, as the water was running out of the faucet I decided to BEND the glasses in odd directions that, if these glasses were normal, would cause them to fall apart.

I bent,

twisted

and folded.

You can imagine my surprise when I found out that these space age glasses really could break. As I glared in complete disappointment at the fallen piece in the sink I thought, "What am I going to tell Dad?!" I suddenly dropped the eyeglasses in the sink, breathed in a few times and took the pieces to my father.

"what happened?" he asked.

"I dunno..."

"what happened?" he asked again.

"I dropped them, in the sink."

He never bought the bendy glasses again because he thought they didn't live up to their name and I never informed him that it was me who broke his glasses and not the sink.

Maybe I should buy my Dad a pair of bendy glasses for Christmas this year!