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PenielHunter
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Name: Penamus
Country: United States
State: New York
Metro: Syracuse
Gender: Male
Interests: baseball, beach, bible, biking, books, Christianity, driving, God, golf, Jesus, laughing, learning, love, movies, newsboys, photography, romance, running, sand, sign language, snow, sunsets, talking, Truth, Valley Forge, writing, volleyball, youth ministry, and good old fashioned just being real
Expertise: I think I'd definitely have to say "love," or at least trying to love and spreading it everywhere I trod. Unfortunately, you can't put "love" in the Industry box. Hospitality is like the closest thing. So there.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Hospitality
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
2/12/2005
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| So I want to be fully surrendured to whatever my Lord asks of me. And I was reminded of one of my first Xanga entries. Here tis... torn... I Surrender all... Even if it means I must be torn some more. No matter how much it hurts, I'll say "yes" to this painful surgery. I won't take any anesthesia. Wield your knife no matter how loud I scream. If it must be broken before it can be fixed, then break it. I will cling to you like never before. Break me so I can cling even stronger. And when I start to slip and say "no" or "stop", keep going, so I only grip tighter. Break me, for I am yours and yours alone. Break me so you can fix what I tried to fix myself. | | |
| Ok, so maybe my title is a little over-stated. or maybe not. But when it comes to my eyes, I tend to get moody. like almost irrational moody. But this might not be irrational.   My eye exam was pretty awful. I'm so glad that Bethany was the one doing the pre-exam because she knew how bad my eyes were. There were several tests that we tried, but were not able to get through and get decent results. I got shot in the eye with blasts of air. Blinded by white, purple and green lights. And I felt like crying. So I go in to see the doctor. And he blinds me some more. And here is what is wrong... I have scarring on my left cornea. There are also blood vessels growing where they shouldn't grow. And he says it is like having a windshield with cotton patches on it. And I was like, "Yes! That's exactly what it looks like!" Anyway, ummm, yeah. It's really not good. The doctor called up a specialist right there on the spot to see about me seeing him. He is out of town for 2 weeks. He then called the personal cell phone to talk to the specialist about me! (That's when I was really like, "Oh, crudmuffin, this is not good.") He gave some suggestions and I am seeing him when he gets back in two weeks. In the meantime, I am seeing another cornea specialist on Thursday, and am being started on steroid eye drops, to hopefully stop or slow this process of going blind. this could be caused by my Lymes. However, the doctor thinks it is a side effect from one of my current arthritis medications. Soooo, nothing can be done, because I don't have a Rheumatologist up here in NY yet. So I'm switching to glasses (maybe permanently) just in case, so that my eye gets the most oxygen possible, and so it won't be irratated further, even though he doesn't think the contact is a cause of the problem. My eyes look perfectly fine. Still bright and blue. But this is horrendously upsetting to me, because I love my eyes. They are my confidence lifter if I am ever in a "Thomas is ugly today" mood. I am scared. As I sat in the office, fighting back tears and fears (not very succesfully), and the doctor struggled to get me into a specialist as soon as possible, I feared that there were things in my life that I would not see the same ever again. Some faces passed across my mind. That reminds me. I MUST upload pics asap. I think I will do that right after I finish this, even if it is just a few photos. I digress. What happens if I have to have eye surgery, and they don't look like they do now. I guess this is what I get for preaching about "being expectant" on Sunday. So God, what are you gonna do? I felt really convicted ealier today when I was thinking about what God might do, and I thought of a miraculous situation occuring. And immediately after that, I thought, "God doesn't work like that." Well, though there may be a slight bit of truth to that, (God does usually work in certain ways and has patterns), He can still do whatever the hell He wants. Or even whatever the heaven He wants. (I made a slight funny in a depressing post. WoOt!) Why would I doubt that my God might miraculously heal me? Why not expect that He can do something big here? Man, we all screw up, don't we? No matter how much we know, or how good we are, we still screw up. Thank God for His grace. Literally.  | | |
| A pen-name, that is. I will not be sharing my Xanga with the entire world anymore. I advertised the fact that I had one on my facebook, (which no one seems to check the contact info anyways, but oh well), but if I write about my youth group kids, I don't neccesarily want them readng it. Soooo, I need a pen-name. Or rather, I don't need one, but I want one. Something cool and suave. And smart-sounding. (I didn't say sophisticated. Because "smart-sounding" does not sound smart. Hence, I made a funny.) Like all the chicks would go, "ooooh, I want him" just by hearing the name, and nothing else. But I will be taking down identifying markers of who I am. (Picture, actual name, etc..., (if there is an etcetera. (By the way, you should look up the original Latin for "etcetera" if you don't know it already. (It's quite entertaining!)))) <-- That's four parenthesis! That's like a world record for me. Well, just a Thomas record. Which is still pretty cool. So basically, gimme your ideas for pen-names. NOW! I'll be blogging in the near future on how my first Sunday went preaching, my awesome pastor, cool youth pastors in the area, as well as some of the delinquincies of my youth. (I love that last phrase. "Delinquincies." It sounds like french crime.) p.s. - Oh, and tomorrow is my supposed day off for this week! I only have a lunch meeting! But I do have a dreadful eye exam, as well. I hate getting shot in the eye with blasts of air. Being poked, prodded, and blinded are not on my lists of "Favorite things to do", as well.  ( <-- A "faux-vomit" emoticon would be much more appropriate here.) | | |
| Why must you torture me so? In my thoughts, you are there. In my readings, you are there. In random things I see, you are there. In green apple shampoo, you are there. I compare it to being angry with God. He’s right there, and for some reason, you do not speak to Him. The access is right there, screaming to be taken hold of, and yet, you don’t. You turn your back to the easy communication of just opening your mouth and forming words. Or even just speaking to Him in your mind. Or throwing out pictures and feelings to Him. But with you, I feel it is much harder, for some reason. I can’t place this torn feeling. You are as close as a text message, a phone call, an e-mail, and yet for some un-earthly reason, I can’t. Well, I can, but I shant. (Is shant a word? Whatever. You understand what I wrote.) And the reason, though it may be un-earthly, is not unwise. I know that it isn’t your purpose to torture me, and in reality, it is myself doing the torture. When the mind is left empty and blank, it starts to make up its own thoughts and ideas as to what you might be thinking. Worried that you have forgotten. Forgotten that the words that were said days ago still carry the same power today. And will carry the same power weeks from now. And that, well, that would be myself doing the torture. I am grateful that times like these are few and far between. Fasting from communication is worse than fasting from food. I want to yell and pull and claw my way out. Like when my brothers would gang up on me and wrap me up in a blanket or sheet and sit on me so I couldn’t move. I would feel trapped, and immediately throw everything within myself into freeing my body. That feeling, is the one I am wrestling with at this very moment. But I am not allowed to fight it. Why is it so hard to let go, and lay down my arms? | | |
| ACK! Stuff needs to slow down! After I preach tomorrow, stuff should slow down immensely. At least for a few days. My day off has been moved from Monday to Tuesday this upcoming week, which is fabtacular because the only day I could get an eye appointment was Tuesday. The Youth Garage Sale was a huge success. we raised over $700 for sure. (There are some questionable items that may be raising the actual monies raised to over $800.) And it looks like a good amount of that money will not go towards the kids for Kingdom Bound, because we just scored 20 free tickets for the kids to go (Booyah!) Which means a lot of the money can go towards our new youth room!!!  + =Thomas' current state, also know as "Ecstatic Thomas" I am currently in need of food, as well as infinite time to finish my powerpoint for my entertaining sermon tomorrow morning. It is also a little difficult to prepare because I haven't solidified my writing/creative space. I don't have my own one here yet. And I'm sorta waiting to do that because I may be picking up and moving in a couple of weeks (to my new home!). Nervous, you may ask? No, I am not nervous. Excited and expectant is more like it. If we aren't expectant, why should God show up? | | |
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