about three days late
June 20, 2011 § 1 Comment
alright. ive come to this point. i must write. again. unfortunately, what i think about as my cruising and observing go on in the car, i cannot replicate in words. i wish i could. i wish all the thoughts that cross me — as fast as the lexus i drive crosses santa monica blvd, the setting sun of early summer behind me in full glory, well dressed black boys waiting for the metro, sky scrapping palm trees lining my way to the hazy smog crowned tips of downtown buildings — could be written down, captured, immortalized
this city of angels. i love it. ive forgotten. i love it. i cant bear the thought of leaving the bay. but every second i spend wasting gas, getting lost in the hills of silver lake, blasting red hot chili peppers and chemical brothers on the radio, i care less and less about everything else in the world. i can drive forever. and im not even missing anyone. i am free. i dont want to think about human relationships right now
the way buildings occupy such sentimental place in ones mind is a mystery. why do i find these beautiful? the tagged and graffitied walls. giant commercial posters of hiphop artists and movies. skater boys in vans and trucker hats. girls in their tights and fly kicks and huge hoops. their backpacks, skinny jeans, faded rock band tshirts. i miss. i dont understand what any of this means, whether im trying to embrace culture not my own, life not my own. where does my lovesick heart fit in here? i dont belong in that world. i wonder, the summer before college, is this what its really about? reincarnation ministry? do i still believe that? when i most feel alive? im almost twenty five, quarter of a century. shouldnt i have some answers by now?
i didnt plan on talking to you Jesus, but i want to know what you think, where im bringing up dead bodies, things that should remain in the past. what good is my pondering of the neighborhoods in la? what can possibly come out of me loving the drive around this city except green house gas emission and narcissistic writing?
Jesus. if youre to live here, will i meet you in the line for tacos at night? will i see you at a club in hollywood? what about bus stops? ive always thought public transit is such a spiritually open door. hipster cafes in downtown and smaller streets surrounding it? with the middle school and high school kids roaming the streets with hot cheetos and sidekicks? do you know that their parents work everywhere? busing my parents tables, sewing their shirts in factories, picking their fruits and veggies displayed at ralphs and krn markets? i pass them all day everyday on my way to church on my way to dinner on my way to beach. i can come home for a whole wk even though i have fucking zero money bc my parents can afford to chip in for my rent. and i can think about what its like to live in different cities around the world. im not limited by anything really
why do these things matter? why do i care? why have i learned to connect the dots here and be able to explain them? Jesus why? what do you think? do you care too? you have any opinions one way or another?
i love la God. i dont even know how im thinking this in my right mind. but i can see myself moving back. i can see myself doing ministry. i… its fucking ridiculous
Lord. yes you are Lord. you decide what to do with my life. you decide where i live, what i eat, whom i meet and befriend, how i act and work. i need to make this clear to myself. you are Lord and God, not i.
then Father. hear me out — that living and loving the city thing i thought about back in april last yr — im thinking about it again. i know there must be ppl like that in my vicinity. regen ppl think that way if not the ark. and i need to somehow bring the parts of my heart together. i need to be whole. i need so cal hatty to see the light of day up in the bay; the ethnic studies and Holy Spirit hatty in east bay needs to take some authority down here. because the streets of ktown and south central la extend all the way to oakland and richmond. i grew up here so i feel more connected here. this is my turf. but the foreignness of different skin colors and mother tongues wont be easy in either context. at least not right away. only when i plant my two feet and grow roots down down down — so when theres a shooting happening or relationships turning sour, i cant run away i wont cut out — will i be able to finally cross the line, from an outsider to one of us. reincarnation ministry. yeah im back to summer ’05 in watts
the open road. the freedom in driving wherever i want to go. the mexicali food music murals and street arts, and most importantly, the kids. i will keep my heart out. im going to make this happen Jesus
this isnt what i wanted to write. not what i thought was on my heart. but maybe this is what you needed to hear Jesus. maybe its what needed to come out of me. youth ministry. ive found it God ive found it. this is what i need to do. yeah this is what i need to do
“The journey into God should translate into the journey to the hovels of squatters, into the dungeons of death-row inmates, into hiding places for battered women, where the suffering of the human community is going on. Everyone who accepts Christ as Lord and Savior needs to be in solidarity with the poor because they are most often sinned against and Jesus has hidden himself among them. Solidarity with the poor is a cleansing of the heart, a receiving of gifts, a relieving of distress, a strengthening of hope. It is coming into my own, into my own way to God. And in the end, it is not the voice of the poor and the needy that you hear, it is the Lord’s.”