Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Three Days To Travel

This is actually an essay I wrote last year for school. I absolutely love traveling, and have many, many places I would love to explore. So you can understand why I pounced on this essay topic as soon I saw it. Hope you enjoy!


For some, if offered an all-expense paid, three days travel, picking where to go would be hard. For me, it would be easy. There are three places I have always desired to visit. If I could, I would enjoy bringing a friend on an excursion like this.

On the first day, my plane lands in New York City early in the morning. I have my breakfast at a small downtown cafe. After breakfast, I make a bee line for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. As I gaze upon and study each painting and sculpture, I marvel that so many artists everyday attempt to recreate the beauty of God’s creation with paints. I eat my lunch in another cafe as I stare out the window at the millions of people walking by. After lunch, I explore Bloomingdale’s and buy a pretty dress for dinner and then go for a long walk in Central Park. As I look around at the illustrious greenery, I realize that even in this concrete jungle there is beauty. Towards 4 o’clock, I settle down under a large tree to read a book. At fancy restaurant with a dress code, I have dinner. Once I finish my dinner, I take a subway over to Broadway to see one of their famous shows. During the show, I watch wide-eyed at the many actors with such wonderful God-given talent. After the show, I change into a more casual outfit and board the plane that will take me to next destination as I sleep.

On the second day, my flight touches down in London, England. I get directions to a small bakery, where I have a British breakfast. The rest of my morning is spent taking a tour of Buckingham Palace. As I look upon the king’s throne, I am reminded that I am the daughter of the Heavenly King. As I eat my lunch in a bistro I reflect on all the wonderful things I have seen already this past day and a half. I ponder about how man can make beautiful and useful gadgets and machines, but how he has never been able to artificially reproduce God’s Creation. After dinner at the East London Balti house, I spend the evening at Shakespeare’s Globe Theater. In the late evening, I board the plane that will take me to my third and final destination. Happy and content, I curl up in my seat and sleep as the plane flies across the Atlantic Ocean

On my third and final day of travel, I wake up to my plane landing in Seattle, Washington. Standing up and stretching, I leave the airport and find a Starbucks, where I eat my breakfast. After breakfast, I proceed to the Space Needle, where I spend the rest of the morning learning about and looking at Seattle from a bird’s eye view. The revolving restaurant in the Space Needle is the location of my lunch. As I eat, I gaze upon the marvelous and huge city, filled with so many people, lost and without Jesus. My afternoon is spent at the Bellevue Square Mall, where I spend my time discovering one boutique after another. Around 6 o’clock, I go to dinner at The Cheesecake Factory, which is conveniently next to the mall I am at. When I finish my dinner, I hurry down to an all-ages Comedy Underground show. Afterward, as I take the shuttle to my home in Ellensburg, I contemplate on everything I have seen and done. I once again marvel at the beautiful gifts of God’s Creation that He has given to man around the world, and the ability God has given man to build huge cities. I am amazed at wonderful talents each person has that I have tremendously enjoyed these past few days.

The day after I get home, I assemble pictures and memories into a large scrapbook for my family and friends to see. I also post some pictures on my Facebook page, which is bursting at the seams because I haven’t checked it for three days. As I get back into normal routine during the next week, I find myself thinking about how no matter how wonderful a vacation is, there is truly no place like home.

So, um, if anyone wants to provide me with the money for three days to explore my favorite places . . . just kidding! Maybe someday when I'm old and rich I'll be able to go globe-trotting. 

That's all for now! God bless you and have a fantastic day!

Monday, June 21, 2010

Obama vs. Arizona (Whose Side Are You On?)

Recently, the state of Arizona passed a law that--in a nutshell--confirmed that illegal immigration was in fact, illegal. I approve of this law for obvious reasons. But, just in case these reasons are not so obvious, let me clarify:
  1. The word illegal means you cannot do it. It is against the law. If you do it, expect to get in trouble.
  2. There needs to be a bigger crackdown on illegal immigration. It is a real problem that needs to be addressed. 
Okay, so it's a good law. It will help prevent illegal immigration. So what's all the fuss about? That, I am not entirely sure about. There are a few possibilities. One may explain why the Obama administration has filed a lawsuit against the state of Arizona.

  1. Maybe people don't understand the law, which is understandable. People might see it as making any and all foreign immigration into the state of Arizona illegal. Not true. All the law does is place a firmer crackdown on illegal immigration. Foreigners can still immigrate there, just not illegally. Because that's, you know, illegal.
  2. There are people who think we should let anyone who wants to live do as such. There are some big problems with this idea. There are reasons we can't let everyone who "wants" to live here do so.
  • Terrorism 
  • Some who want to immigrate here have a criminal record. They haven't necessarily changed their terrible ways. 
  • Drug traders
  • We just can't hold everybody!!
You know, another thing is that people confuse immigration with gaining citizenship. They are two different things. True, a person does one to achieve the other, but they are not the same. A person can live here without being a citizen. Just come here through the correct legal process, and it's all good! I know some of you are thinking, "well, she was born here, so it's pretty easy for her to say that. She doesn't know what people in other countries go through." It's true. I don't. I can't relate to those who live in third world countries, or any other country for that matter. But one thing I do know is that God has set down rules for us to follow and He has set up people to enforce these rules. If you want to know the honest-to-goodness, for reals truth, I'll tell ya. If you go about immigration the way it's supposed to be done,  it causes a lot less heartache.



If I wasn't disgusted with the Obama administration before (which I was), I am now. He is chipping away at our nation's foundation. Whatever nation we emerge from his administration as, it won't be a very good one.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Dear God, Thank You for my Daddy

You know, most of the time it seems that Father's Day tends to fall by the wayside. It comes trailing in behind Mother's Day, and seems a lot people forget it. Or maybe that's just me. I knew Father's Day was coming up, buuut . . . well, I thought I had another week. So, I did it again. I forgot Father's Day. But I haven't anymore. So Daddy, I hope you're listening, because this is for you.

My dad is a Servant.

When you take a peek into my home, most of the time you'll see just my mom, my brother and sister, and me. My dad doesn't come home at 6 o'clock like most dads. And when he does get to come home, he almost always still has more work to do. Not because he's a workaholic. But because he is a servant. Not a servant like the people who go around catering to rich people. Well, he probably deals with rich people, but that's not the point. My dad is a servant. Every morning, my dad gets up long before I wish to be (sometimes as early as 5 am), showers, gets dressed, and goes to work. Every evening, my dad gets home usually around 7 or if it's been a really long day, 8. By now, you're probably thinking, what on earth does this man do for a living??

He's a Doctor.
My dad spends every day caring for people. He saves people's lives. He works hard for what often seems like little gratitude. My dad works as a small-town family practice doctor, so it's not like he rakes in a huge monetary profit either. That's what bugs me a lot. People think my family is rich, but it's not true. And even if we were, I would know that my dad worked for every cent. He works hard to give every single one of his patients the best care possible. He writes up each of their charts painstakingly making sure all the information is accurate. When he is on call, he will meet his ill patients at the office when it is closed to save them an expensive trip to the ER.

But his attitude of servitude does not stop at work. It continues at home.

Several years after my sister was born, my mom had a lot of surgeries to remove tumors. My dad made sure my siblings and I always had a place to stay, somewhere to go when even he couldn't be there for us. He took care of us whenever he was able to get leave from work, taking us to school and church, making our meals, and tucking us in at night.

Every morning, before my mom had her surgeries, and after as well, he would come in my room, already in his military uniform, to wake me up for school. Whenever he had a day off, he would pick us up from school. Now that we homeschool, he can't do that anymore. But whenever any of us kids has trouble with something, he's always willing to help. I can remember when I was struggling with Algebra, he would sit at the kitchen counter with me, walking me through the steps of each formula, making sure I understood every problem. He jumps at the chance to help us with science labs. He's eager to expound our knowledge of history beyond our classes. Whenever we are sick, or busy with school or an activity, my dad often does one or even all of our chores, without one complaint.

My dad is a Teacher.

My dad has worked hard every day for over 16 and a half years to make sure that I am always learning. He instilled in me my hunger for learning, my curiosity for history, my interest in technology, my sense of humor and most importantly, my fire for God. He takes every opportunity he can to teach us about anything and everything. The history channel is the most frequently used channel on our television, our bookshelves are loaded with every book on every period in history. He subscribes to Popular Science and Popular Mechanics and is always very happy when he sees one of us kids thumbing through the latest issue. He has a crazy sense of humor and has taught me (although I still have much to learn) to laugh at myself. But, most importantly, he has taught me the importance of fearing God. From day 1, he has used every opportunity he can to teach me about God's love and grace and mercy. My dad was there the night I accepted Christ. He makes sure the family is at church every Sunday, and that us kids pay attention in church.

My dad loves.

This may sound weird, but all I've said so far would mean nothing if my dad didn't do it with love. Because if he didn't love, there would be no reason for him to do all he's done. And he probably wouldn't. But my dad does love. He loves my mom and my siblings. He loves his patients. Most importantly, he loves God. On his Facebook, in his "About Me" section, he states it perfectly: "I am first, foremost, and unappologetically a Christian. Second a husband and father. Third a Family Medicine Physician. Those are my top 3 priorities. Everything else is secondary." My was the one who really pushed for our Disney World trip in 2007, because he knew he wouldn't be able to be home much for a whole month afterward. He punishes me and my siblings whenever we do wrong, because he loves us too much to watch us do wrong. He loves my mom so much. I see it everyday. My parents have truly followed that line in the wedding vows that says "For better or for worse". They have seen the worst and the best of times. But their love has held out through it all.

Daddy, there is so much more I could write here. How you rejoiced when I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior. How you were the first person to ever place a gun in my hands and teach me how to shoot. How you have hugged me as I sobbed tears of pain. How you have celebrated with me my every victory. How you've taught me about politics. How you can always find a way to make me laugh. How you've never stopped loving me, even when I was the least lovable. And I still wouldn't be done. Thank you so much for everything that you've done for me, Mom, Robbie, and Emma. I am so glad that God made you my dad. Because any other dad just wouldn't do. I love you Dad. Love, Ro-Ro