reginafalangi's Revelife

cuz facebook doesn't always cut it

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 13:57:57 GMT

Revelife

an online community about God, Love, and the Christian Lifestyle

It's too bad this wasn't around during my high school days, as I attended a Christian school and the original Xanga was the big thing back then (it also got a lot of us in trouble, but that's another story...)

I wish people I know were still into blogging. Social networking's fun, but even stalking people's Facebook walls and photo albums gets really monotonous. I'd rather read their thoughts, or even better, witness the Xanga comment wars once again.

The Hot Girl's Token Funny Friend

Wed, 25 Jun 2008 16:29:19 GMT

One of my most frustrating vices is my sidekick complex. I'm not sure how I developed it, but since my teenage years, I've occasionally dipped into the self-deprecating conviction that I am nothing more than, "[insert name here]'s nerdy/awkward/less pretty/designated driver friend." In the Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson scope of things, I am Watson. I'm always a Pussycat, and never Josie, always the Patrick to the SpongeBobs of the world. It's kind of pathetic, I know, but during those really low self-esteem times I wonder if I'm one of those people who's attracted to Queen Bees/Alpha Females. Since their self-esteem isn't high enough for them to strike out independently, they automatically content themselves with befriending a person they're secretly envious of. Is that me? GAHH!!!

I feel insecure when I'm around friends who are naturally good at things I try hard at, or who have experienced more success than me. Back in high school, I had a friend who was considered one of the prettiest girls in school. While I had puffy hair, crooked glasses, and upper lip fuzz at the time, I didn't care that much about appearances so I didn't feel like the nerdy friend just because she looks better than me. The sidekick complex really kicked in when guys started chasing her though - it wasn't so much that I wanted guys to like me too, but that I became the friend they would obligingly acknowledge to impress her. Whenever the guys ran into the two of us, they'd flirt shamelessly with her and give me a polite "hi," but whenever I crossed their paths without her, they'd totally ignore me. Before long, I *did* become insecure about my appearance, personality, and appeal factor. I determined that I simply wasn't cute or bubbly enough for high school guys to notice me on their own (oh, the tragedy!) My teenage self thought: Great, confirmation that the only reason people talk to me is that they want to win over my hot friend! In retrospect: LAME.

Now that I'm five years older and (hopefully) wiser, I'm more aware of the number of times I still compare myself to other people. When it comes to my social life, I often feel like the token wallflower. When I first entered college, I was very lonely and had a really hard time making friends, whereas my old high school buddies made tons of friends during their first week and were very happy. I thought that I MUST be socially crippled - and when I'm at my apartment checking Facebook on a Friday night and I see that my acquaintances are all out partying or having fun, I think to myself - man, I'm a total no-lifer! I eventually made a friend in college who started out a little shy, just like me, but now she LOVES meeting new people, whereas I still want to run away screaming when forced to make new friends or acquaintances. Why has she gotten over her shyness? Why am I still socially awkward? WHY, GOD, WHY???, I asked myself. My friend and I joined a club together, and soon people were calling her up and talking to her, whereas I remained in the background. Of course, she attracted many guys, and all of them added me on AIM and would try coercing me into talking about her. I started getting flashbacks of my high school days of being the geeky friend of the "It" girl and fell into a pretty sad cycle of self-pity.

The more I considered myself a sidekick, the more subpar my experiences became. My friends found jobs and internships that they were happy with, which made me feel mediocre as I did not enjoy mine. My friends got boyfriends, and I remained single. When I did start seeing someone, he broke my heart whereas my friends' guys treated them like angels. When I went out dancing with my friends, guys would ask for their name and their number, whereas my guys would just ask for my body (which always earns them an emphatic NO!!!!)

Then, one night, not long after I'd reunited (again) with God, He granted me an epiphany: There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven. He has made everything beautiful in its time. - Ecclesiastes 3:1,11a

It turns out that Miss Marigold isn't a weed, she's a late bloomer.

I can't stress how important time was to this realization. I got over the guy and by the time I'd fully embraced the single life the friends I'd been envious of were experiencing their own relationship drama. In time, I made new friends on my own terms. In time, I found a fellowship I was happy with. In time, I found better job fits and became much more useful. In time, I realized that I'm really not a party animal, so staying home with my DVDs over the weekend suits me just fine!

For as long as I live, I will always encounter someone who's prettier, smarter, or richer than me. The bottom line is, what does their life really say about mine? Pretty much nothing, unless I want it to. I have faith in God's plan for me; He knows what I need, and He'll give it to me during the right time.

"I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live." We're all destined for the ground, anyway, so I might as well enjoy myself while living above it instead of resenting those who have it "better" than me.

That being said, I should probably pull up this post come Valentine's Day, if by then I'm still celebrating it with I Love the 80s marathons and cold ramen for one.

How often (or extensively) do you compare yourself to your friends? How do you deal with the envy when your life doesn't seem so great?

God: Missing in Action

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 18:37:12 GMT

On two separate occasions, I've talked to a couple of old friends who've put their relationship with God on hiatus. When I asked them why they stopped having faith in God, they gave me the same answer: "When I needed Him the most, He wasn't there." It wasn't as if they were expecting God to solve their problems, either - all they wanted was some kind of reassurance that things would be okay or that they needed to be more patient. If anything, they wanted to know that God was in the background while they suffered. Still, God remained silent and elusive, and so they fought their battles alone.

At the time, I gave the pat "just because you couldn't feel God doesn't mean He wasn't there" answer, but during my own low period, I found myself thinking the same thing. Not too long ago, a couple of people that meant a lot to me ended up hurting me really badly. Unable to deal with the anger, I surrendered my emotions to God and He answered by instructing me to release them from their debt - to forgive them, which I did, or at least tried to do. While the first person and I had cut our relationship cold turkey, I'd at least try and refrain from spreading dirt (and boy, did I have a LOT of it) about that person - and for awhile, I would smile back at the person (who had the guts to smile at me first!!!) when we would awkwardly run into each other in the cafeteria. Did I feel better? No! I talked to a priest, prayed for hours at church, resisted telling my friends this person's darkest secrets - still nothing! When the second person hurt me, I forgave her and took her back as a friend - which she told me she was surprised that I did - but as time went on, things became so conflictual that I feel as if only the grace of God can restore that friendship, or perhaps help it grow from what it is now.

For awhile, I felt really bothered that God didn't hold up His end of the deal. I read I Peter, which says that it's normal to suffer for doing the right thing/God's will, but that was like hearing "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade" on a really bad day. Reading a verse was not enough. I wanted results!

I'll acknowledge that God poured out His blessings - He gave me jobs, grades, more friends, activities, great professors, things like that - but it just felt like He wasn't actually there during days I felt really down. It was kind of like having an absent parent - it's one thing to receive gifts, cards, and money in the mail, but what kids really want is just for the parent to spend time with them.

When I'd all but given up hope for my relationship with God, I started feeling His presence again. It wasn't as if I'd done anything to lure Him back (as if that's even possible) - one night, almost out the blue, I just felt that "burst" - after a long time of not praying, I prayed those same things and forgave those people all over again, and now...it's actually working.

Then, last night, I came across the story of Lazarus' resurrection. Honestly, I still can't wrap my head around the fact that Jesus waited until Lazarus was dead to pay him a visit. I can almost hear Martha's words echoing in my own: Lord, if you had just BEEN there....if you had just arrived sooner....I wouldn't be so bitter/angry/disappointed/dead inside! (or in Lazarus' case, actually dead.)

Of course, Jesus was sad too and He raised Lazarus from the dead. Ta-da! By letting Lazarus die, Jesus was able to resurrect him and therefore demonstrate the full scope of His power and glory. On a logical level, it makes sense and I'm actually honored that God would choose certain human beings to reveal Himself to others. Not only did Lazarus come back to life, but he came back fully healed. I see God working the same way in me. Not only did God restore a lot of the things I lost in the past, but He's given me so much MORE than I had before!

On the other hand....a part of me couldn't help but feel like God's a big megalomaniac. Did God let Lazarus die just so He could have more glory in the end? Does God like to see me suffer and feel lonely - does He push me to my limits - just so He can sweep in and save me? It didn't sound OR feel right at all.

I don't question the necessity of suffering - death, sickness, depression, and betrayal are all a part of living in a fallen world, and God uses our experiences with those things to show that there is something better out there - something that can conquer them - but my question is, why does God let us feel like we're experiencing those things alone?

Do you ever feel like God's not there?

Who Is God?

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 14:57:02 GMT

While discussing spirituality with me, an agnostic friend expressed surprise when I compared prayer time to conversations. "Let me get this straight," he said. "So when you talk to God, he actually answers back? Like a person?" His tone resembled that of a horror movie parent listening to her child describe the little ghost girl living upstairs.

"So what's God like?" my friend asked me, leaving me stammering, as it felt kind of awkward to describe God's characteristics to someone who saw God as a soulless, yet all-powerful element, perhaps The Force personified. It wasn't as if my friend were mocking me, either. He genuinely wanted to know. Is God emotional? Does He give prompt replies? What does He tell you? I don't remember exactly how I answered, but it was something along the lines of "it takes a spiritual mindset to experience God's active presence," something equally vague and generic.

It's been about a year since that conversation, and I'm still trying to figure out a better answer. After going on a spiritual/prayer hiatus for a few months afterward, I lost touch of who God is and started depending on my (fuzzy) memories of Him or flipping through the Bible at random times. Getting back on track - really praying - felt a little weird - kind of like reuniting with a high school friend I'd only kept up with via Facebook or birthday text message.

Since then, I've realized that the Bible really isn't enough. "God is Love because 1 John says so," is an insufficient answer for a person who wants to know God as an active member of a relationship. Basing God solely on the Word is like basing everything I know about my best friend from her Facebook profile. She watches anime, she likes basketball, she's an accounting major, and she dresses like a tomboy. Those are things you can figure out with the click of a mouse and ten minutes of your time, but it'd take you years to really understand her dreams, her insecurities, and the things that make her laugh or feel loved.

The Bible says things about God, but it doesn't give you a complete picture of who God is. Pardon the extended Facebook analogy, but like wall posts, scripture describes God through the eyes of people who've met him; figuring out that my BFF loves to eat from a wall post that says, "HAHA UR SUCH A PIG LOL" provides a clue to her personality, but it isn't the same as actually sharing a meal with her and seeing her healthy appetite for myself.

Don't get me wrong, the Bible's a great starting point to acquaint (or re-acquaint) yourself with God, but it takes serious, dedicated effort to know His character on a personal level. The Bible says that God is patient and slow to anger, but it took not only serious prayer, but involving God in my personal failings and my growth as a Christian for me to really believe that. Of course, I can't really get to know God through and through since I'm, um, mortal, but I'm getting a little closer to speaking sincerely about the God in my life, not just the God of ancient texts.

How does God reveal Himself to you? How would you describe God to someone who does not know Him?

How can you be a servant without feeling like a slave?

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 21:53:09 GMT

If there's one Gospel passage I have trouble with, it's Matthew 25:31-46, where Jesus explains that those who help the needy are sheep while those who shun are goats. I don't understand how to apply the practice of inviting strangers indoors to modern-day society. Nowadays, it's common sense to not house strangers, lest they be rapists, pedophiles, thieves, or psycho-killers. Fine, maybe I watch too much tabloid news or Law and Order, but I don't know how to exercise Christian hospitality in a world that interprets trust as naivete.

Lately, God's been convicting me to start by freely applying that passage to the people who aren't strangers to me. I often refrain from acting generous not because I'm afraid of physical harm, but because I worry that people will take advantage of me. I don't mind doing the occasional good deed, but it becomes a problem when people expect me to keep doing that deed over and over again.

Last semester, my friend "Katie," (who was also my roommate at the time), would ask me to eat with her in the cafeteria twice a day since she hates eating alone. I didn't mind at first, but spending a couple hours at a time in the caf became really inconvenient when schoolwork started piling up. I'd get annoyed at having to take a break in my work, but I just couldn't tell her directly that I couldn't eat with her because when I did, she'd look disappointed and just skip the meal altogether. Of course, I felt guilty, but I didn't like feeling pressured. Since I'm very non-confrontational, I turned all passive-aggressive and would hide in the library and turn off my phone. I'm pretty sure she knew I was avoiding her, but by then, I felt so spiteful of her "control" over me that I didn't even care. So you can't eat by yourself? Deal with it! I'm not gonna bow to your whims!

One night, while my roommates and I were up late studying for our finals, my laptop started making weird noises. I turned it off and unscrewed the bottom to check if it was dirty. I carefully laid the microscopic-sized screws inside a bottle cap. Of course, my elbow knocked it over, scattering the screws along my cluttered desk space.

Yelling out an expletive, I dove to the floor, which prompted my roommates to ask what was wrong. I gave them a harred explanation and added that it wasn't a big deal.

Before I could stop her, Katie was down on her hands and knees next to me. "Where'd you hear them fall?" she asked. I told her I could find them myself, but she was adamant about giving me a hand.

After an hour of crawling around and rearranging furniture, we'd recovered all but one of the screws. Katie, who's near-sighted to boot, had found 5 of them while I'd found 2. I did not even know how to thank her. She didn't owe me anything, as I'd spent the last couple of weeks hoarding my time even when I didn't need to. Truthfully, were our situations reversed, I would've said something sympathetic while leaving her to her own devices.

The following semester, I accompanied Katie to the caf - not begrudgingly or half-heartedly like before, but with a spirit of generosity that only the Holy Spirit can provide for me. At the same time, spending more time together helped her realize that I can't always afford to take long meal breaks, so she doesn't hold it against me when I can't make it (and am honest, not passive-aggressive.)

I'm not gonna pretend that one instance solved my issues with the passage and with generosity. As much as I try to adhere to Jesus' instruction that we serve others, I feel like a pushover when serving others turns me into a doormat. When resentment stops me from even offering a hand in the first place, I know I've become selfish.

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me." - Matthew 25:35-36.

Do you ever struggle serving others wholeheartedly?

Look Who's Back

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 16:44:48 GMT

Lately, the entertainment industry's been making a lot of bank from comeback talents. After following celebrity news for the past couple of years, I've noticed a couple of trends in the nature of these stories:

The Classic Prodigal Child: Privileged/gifted entertainer goes wayward and sees the error of his ways.
Prime example: Robert Downey Jr. (kidnap me and hold me captive forever, plz), who beat his drug addiction to make his glorious return to Hollywood via Iron Man.
Now rooting for: Amy Winehouse. I'd hate to see a voice like that go into total disuse.

Throwback to the Glory Days: Former mainstream megahits emerge from obscurity in an attempt to reconcile with the present day.
Prime example: Spice Girls; well, Posh wasn't really obscure, but it's not like you hear their songs anywhere outside of a karaoke lounge.
Now rooting for: Hanson!

Throwback, v 2.0: Old Guys Who Act Like They're Matt Damon: It's like watching a mid-life crisis unfold.
Prime Example: Sly Stallone with Rocky and Rambo part XVIIIII. New Kids on the Block with their reunion tour and "Summertime" music video (look it up on YouTube, I promise it's creepy and hilarious.)
Now rooting for: Non-delusional septugenarians. Don't get me wrong, I love old hot guys...as long as they acknowledge that they have aged and they need reinvention! (e.g. Michael Caine, Alan Rickman, Sean Connery.)

The [Re]Inventive Chameleon: An ever-versatile entertainer slips in and out of vogue only to return each time with a new look, sound, or persona.
Prime example: Madonna, of course. Mariah Carey too, but her breathy R&B's a downgrade from the diva pop vocals of yore.
Now rooting for: M. Night Shyalaman. Sure, the guy still makes films, but do any of them blow your mind the same way The Sixth Sense did? C'mon dude, put your muse into overdrive and surprise as all with a good movie!

The False Alarm: Management/agencies try to make a has-been happen again, but audiences and the media tear the attempt apart.
Prime example: Britney Spears at the VMAs, Lindsay Lohan's acting career with "I Know Who Killed Me," and I can't remember any others because their "comebacks" weren't memorable enough to be permanent.
Now rooting for: Meg Ryan. Please don't end up on The Surreal Life!

I'm no celebrity, but I've definitely had my share of dry periods and regressions. After entering an unhealthy relationship during my sophomore year of college, I went from a straight A to a straight B/C student; although I worked back up to A's this year, my GPA still hasn't recovered and it'll take some divine intervention if I want to attend a good grad school. Another time, while recovering from some anxiety, I went through a social regression and reverted from a young adult with a huge circle of friends to basically a shy kindergartener on the first day of school ... except that every day and every social scenario *was* the first day of school 16 years ago, like Back to the Future meets Groundhog Day. My spiritual life swings every other month. I can't count the number of times I've promised God to do better only to fall flat on my face the minute I encounter peer pressure.

How have your comebacks gone, dear readers? After a lot of lame and half-hearted efforts, I learned that my life can't be like a Rocky movie or a New Kids on the Block reunion track. God didn't intend for me to be a one-trick pony; rather, He created me as a dynamic human being capable of enduring change. I made the mistake of believing that if I just ignored my mistakes and went back to the way things were before I went bad, I'd rediscover the formula to success and it'd be as if the dry period never happened.

At one point, I shunned the idea of learning from the past; building character or a earning a life lesson felt more like a consolation prize than anything. I'm not sure who God's turning me into, or why certain people or events were necessary for my reinvention, but I know that life around me moves forward even when I move back. I'm tired of dwelling in the land of the dead; Lord, deliver me into the land of the living.

What helps you stay on track after you make a comeback (whether it's spiritual or in regular life?)

Praying With a Short Attention Span

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 05:15:12 GMT

I have difficulty remembering to really pray on a daily basis - and by praying, I mean more than saying grace over dinner or asking God to make the A train arrive faster. Praying feels essentially like conversing with a friend I can't see or audibly hear, which makes it really easy to space out. While praying, I'm prone to distraction from people turning on the TV or barging into the room asking to borrow a hair straightener.

I'm in awe of people who can pray continuously for an hour. I can't even go ten minutes without wondering what's for lunch that day!

Someone recommended that I treat prayer the way I treat studying or fitness. In order to stay disciplined, I need to delegate a specific place and time to devote myself wholly to that one activity. I've since come up with 3 prayer places:

In the shower. It's calm, it's relaxing, and unless you have my roommate (okay, okay, I'll stop - I've forgiven her!), you're not going to be interrupted. Call me a cheeseball, but physically cleaning myself also works a reminder how God cleans me during prayer. The only downside to showering while praying is the amount of water wasted when I take my time.
On the train. Taking public transportation's become so routine that I can now easily tune out the noises and activity around me. All it takes is an mp3 player with some praise or classical music and a total lack of interest in the surrounding conversations. The problem with praying during work, a boring class, or while studying is that I always feel as if I'm using prayer to procrastinate on other duties. When you're on the train, there's not much you have to do besides arrive at your destination.
In an empty church: As an overly dramatic child, I imagined myself fleeing to a church and collapsing onto the pews while staring up at the image of Christ looming above me. Several years later (about a year ago, to be exact), I really did find sanctuary in an empty cathedral after feeling overwhelmed by conflicts with my friends. It felt like stepping into another dimension; the familiar setting not only relaxed my nerves, but it isolated God's voice and my emotions from the opinions of other people.

I'm trying to pray for 10 minutes at a time now. Maybe next week, it'll be 15, and after that, 30....

Does anyone else have trouble concentrating? How do you stay focused while praying?

I feel like Sweeney Todd

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 18:50:12 GMT

Last week, after my roommate kicked me out of the shower so she could brush her teeth, I contemplated cutting her TV hour with "Grey's Anatomy" so I could watch something important, like the international news. Thursday night came and went, and while I didn't do anything, I felt just as annoyed.

I wonder why it is my plans remain imaginary. Is it because God convicts me to have mercy, or is it because I'm too much of a neurotic wimp to carry them out?

Forgiveness is tied with calculus as the hardest thing for me to learn, much less master. The minute someone seriously hurts me, I begin scheming for a punishment that is two parts creativity and one part pure cruelty. These fantasies usually involve food poisoning, pink slips, and pigeons with abnormally large beaks.

I'll admit that I've taken revenge using less grandiose methods, but no counter-attack is powerful enough to negate the wrongdoing I'd encountered. I feel accomplished, but just as hurt, which makes me consider attacking again and again and again. In the end, I just feel tired.

Do you ever want to get back at the people who've done you wrong? How do you feel once you've given them what they deserve?

How Did Jesus Become My Darkest Secret?

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 17:50:06 GMT

Hello everyone. I'm gonna pull a Phoebe (I watch too much Friends) and ask that you call me Regina Falangi. I've been a Christian my whole life, as I grew up with first-generation born-again Christian parents while attending a Protestant school for thirteen years. I am now a senior at what one publication dubbed "The Hottest Catholic University" and what another reported is the city's number one party school.

Maybe God feels as if my spiritual life needs a little spicing.

[/intro]

My college friends and I constantly attempt, with a 75% success rate, to dig up dirt on each other. The juiciest tidbits consist of the typical "night I got drunk" stories, things we did behind our parents' backs and the occasional cheating on a test or misguided sexcapade. I say 75% because of the one thing I've concealed from them.

Four years ago, while on an evangelical missions trip in East Asia, a friend and I converted a teenager to Christianity. I can't imagine how out of place that anecdote would be in a conversation loaded with F-bombs and high-fives over hookups and narrow escapes from campus authorities.

It's generally acknowledged that if you mix your drinks, you're an idiot, but if you evangelize or converse with intangible entities, you're a freak. Four years ago, I was enough of a freak to freely talked about Christ's sacrifice and what it meant to me. Now, I'm not even freaky enough to admit that I actually pray.

I still remember the boy's name: Gordon. I think about Gordon all the time. Before we left, my friend and I told him where he could go to buy smuggled Bibles and attend underground church services. That was the last time we ever saw him and after a few sparse emails, we completely lost contact with each other.

I hesitate to share the details of my missions trip with anyone, even with my real-life Christian acquaintances because I feel ashamed of how far I've fallen since then. I can't talk about God amongst my college friends without stammering, much less think about how I helped someone find God four years ago.

I feel like such a Judas when I think about Gordon. I'm not a stellar person, and I wasn't that great back then either, but for some unknown reason, God chose me to relay the message of His grace. In retrospect, God changed me as much as He changed Gordon. The experience of praying with someone in that way introduced me to a greater love and awe for God. I just couldn't believe that God would choose someone who never did her devotions, never listened in church, and never talked about God in normal conversations. I felt the Holy Spirit reminding me of verses I'd only read once, and giving answers (in my second language, no less) that were new to me, even as their speaker. After that, I had no problem including God in regular dialogue, as if He were my next-door neighbor or a classmate.

I feel ashamed when thinking about Gordon because I've forgotten what a privilege it was to be included in his life during that moment of conversion.

After my sophomore year of college, God the Father became reduced to God the Divine Powers - as in, "I need to get an A on this exam, so let's hope that the divine powers have mercy on me."

I often wonder what Gordon's doing, or more importantly, *how* he's doing, but during those moments, God tells me ot leave Gordon to Him and to focus on my relationship with Him first.

How does one even begin to mend a perpetually strained relationship? Excuse the corny (and probably inappropriate) comparison, but I feel like Big from Sex and the City. Someone's always taking me back. How do I even thank Him for that?

The repairing might take awhile, but perhaps the next time people ask me how I manage to earn good grades in college, I will answer that it is nothing less than the grace of God.

Friday, June 06, 2008

Fri, 06 Jun 2008 19:49:42 GMT

Hi everyone! I'm just getting started on Revelife... Drop me a comment if you've got some ideas on what to do first - or just to say, "Hi!" :-)