The porch door is open escorting the warm air in; the roommates are all gone; my Bible and my books are on the coffee table; its just me.



The irony sets in that I am sitting here, 38 hours away from leaving to El Salvador, and I am in a state of nostalgia...I haven't even left yet!

Besides coming to college and some vacations, I have never gone anywhere. Even in all those times that I have gone somewhere, I have never had this feeling in my bones. Never. 

I believe that if the LORD is takes me somewhere, He intends to change me in the process. He is all about His Glory, and conforming me to the image of CHRIST brings Him glory.

The stirring is excitement and expectation, and it causes my insides to burst with yearning.

In most of the books that Paul wrote, he so wonderfully talks about his desire to be with brethren. He longed to be with the people who rejoiced in the LORD with him, and with those who were faithfully laying him down before the throne in prayer. He desired to return to fellowship with them and to share in the blessings and sufferings of Christ with them. He wanted to greet them with a "holy kiss" and I imagine a hug as well. He could not wait to see them and talk about all the LORD has done. He desired a true relationship that flowed directly from the LORD.


Imagine how communication worked back then... Send a letter, hope it gets to the designated place, wait weeks/months for them to receive it. Then, wait months to receive a response. If that isn't long enough, I imagine Paul was moving from place to place as the LORD led him and as his responsibilities required him to. Plus, he spent a lot of time in prison or on boats, how would letters get to him there? Quite a tricky situation.

What I find so beautiful is that Paul's longing did not interfere with his work. His longing did not debilitate him. No, it was the opposite. His heartfelt desire to see them allowed him to pursue the LORD boldly. Paul knew that the LORD would reunite them in His timing and that joy would overflow.

His desire and longing to see his brothers/sisters was a manifestation of the LORD at work in him and in those around him.

That up there, what I just stated and that verse, is something that I am still getting used to.

By the Grace of God, I am blessed to be able to miss some of my brethren without sacrificing my focus.

So, I sit here ready to embark on this journey with the LORD to El Salvador and yes, I long to see some people, but the LORD has made it a blessing and not a burden, for nothing,  no height, no depth, no power, no principality will separate my life from the will of the LORD.

Today, I arose with such an urgency, an urgency that was unrelated to the early shift I picked up at work. I tried my best to bustle softly around my apartment, in hopes to preserve my roommates' sleep.  I managed to scour my closet for a decent outfit, only to find that my favorite "dressy" sweater fits about a size too big. The gym should come with a with a warning label saying, "Caution: working out may cause you to spend lots of money on a new wardrobe". I finished getting ready just in time to ponder if I should walk or bike to work; my common sense said bike, but my soul said walk.

I tried to talk myself out of walking, but words or rationale was no weapon to the Lord asking me to walk, asking me to talk a walk with Him.

So, I threw on my columbia fleece and my backpack-- water bottle on one side pocket and tea in the other-- and  I ventured out.

Yesterday, today held so much promise; it always does. Sitting here, in today, I can't say that I am disappointed with what the Lord has brought to me on this Sunday November 13, but in my few waking hours, it somehow felt too overwhelming to bare alone.

This is how yesterday went:
Four a.m. rolled around and this time it was accompanied by someone's fist viscously attacking my front door. As many times before, the noise was first part of my dream, until the pounding became too loud to stay in the haziness of dreams.

A disoriented guy was knocking on the front door for a good 30 min. He was claiming desperately that  he lived there. He innocently shouted that he, "Just wanted to come in". It did not take long for this guy to make his way to my window. He knocked and pleaded with Jason to open the door. I didn't even know a Jason.He was persistently trying into his apt, not knowing that he was at the wrong one.

Three hours later, I not annoyed with him (not that I was then, i was just dazed and confused... who isn't at four a.m?). I am not mad at him for waking me up before my alarm rang. At this point, Im not even appalled that this happened at all.

My body tried its best to lull back to sleep, only to be awoken by a text at 4:40 a.m. reporting that there was a shooting at a Frat across the street from my work-- where I was headed to at 6 a.m.

I think I was supposed to feel fear or frustration, but I didn't. What I felt was hopelessness. I curled into a ball, hugging everything within reach and tightly closed my eyes.

What good is it when your sister is across campus, your parents are 230 miles north and the person who always protects you is ten time zones away? What happens when danger is at your door, and those who you've counted on all your life are absent?

What happens, is that the Lord's voice resounds and in His solemn roar proclaims, Yessenia, I AM here. 
Thats why I can claim without any doubt or regret that being far from loved ones is an ongoing sanctification. It seems that somehow, that I have found favor in the eyes of LORD to be given this gift.

So, Jason's roommate, I hope you finally got into you apartment. Maybe you should learn your apt. number or carry a key with you.

Jason, I commend you for being a good friend if you always let your roommate knock on your window at the crack of dawn.

People at the Frat party across the street, don't count your safety from the bullets as luck. If you were looking for a sign to turn, well take the shooting as that.

It is 830 a.m. and today still holds so much promise. My friend is getting baptized in a few hours--God's sovereignty is all over that.  I have the rest of the day to study for my exam, and the weather is just beautiful. I look out the window from the desk and between the rays of sunlight, I see the yellow police tape and the cop cars. When I go to my email or my phone, the Crime Alert taunts me, and, thats okay. Its okay, because I do not wish to hide from the reality of what is, because I know the Reality of who IS.

Hermano Sandoval, he was a kind man.

I wish I would have known the Lord while he was still alive. I say that because every time he preached, i yawned and every time he prayed, i stood looking the clock instead of postrated at the feet of the LORD.

He loved my mother like a daughter. He took her in when my father was gone and he took us in as well. I remember those days. He lost his daughter to suicide earlier in his life and my mom unknowingly took her place.

I still remember venturing out in the cold and into the city to go visit him. He was the oldest person i knew. I think he died at age 94?I remember him buying my sister and i our first digital camera and taking us to a jewelry store to buy us watches. I wish i hadn't lost mine within the week.

I don't know why i didn't like him back then. I had this terrible bitterness towards him. In my eyes, he was taking up all of my mothers time.

I was a foolish child. I look back now and although the amount of time my mother alloted to him was plenty, he was her spiritual father. I don't think i ever fully realized that until now, just sitting here.

Time.

Why am i so jealous for it and of it. Why?
I remember unplugging the telephone from the jack because i wanted to tell my mom something, but she had been talking to Bolivar for what seemed like an eternity.
I remember crying because my cousin Liz wouldn't sleep in my bed and instead chose to sleep with Mayra.

I remember, TIME.

I recall the punctuality of my family, and the warped notion of time at my house.
I recall how last year seems like yesterday and tomorrow seems forever from now.
I recall the way time stands still when i want it to pass and when i cling to it, it slips through the cracks
I recall the manner in which time rudely passes without any concern for my person.
I recall the way a deadline approaches too fast and a goodbye comes to soon.

TIME.

I express my love through time.  If you have my time, it means you are important to me. it means i care about you and that i value your company.


Time, just think about it.

Time, it ticks itself away. It counts itself down. Its hums down to nothing. It sings as the soundtrack of our lives never knowing when it will cease.

If i just sit; sit in the stillness with someone and be unbothered by the ticks that tock away. That is my gift.

Time, I cannot control but i was created to love through it. Time, something so precious. It is priceless, i can never get it back. Sometimes i spend 3 hours talking to someone, and never... can i ever, get it back. But still, i offer it up.

Time; I release it unto those i love.




God is above what offer to my fellow brothers/sisters. The priceless gift i give, does not even apply to my GOD and KING. The beautiful thing is that although God is not subject to time, the time i spend and offer to him is all the more valuable unto Him.

Wait, how can that be?

Its because offering time:
its sacrifice.

I think this is why the LORD emphasizes closet time. "Take the time to know Me for Me", He says. Do not settle to rely on what what you think I AM is or what people have told you I AM... child," I AM". He whispers.

Take time to know Me for yourself. I must take the time to know Him for myself.

"Seek ME while I may still found" He suggests that to you and i.

Time, we are bound by it for now, but one day time will be no more, and it will just be eternity.