Without fail, the waterworks flow every time I watch this video or see this drama performed live. It is an excellent demonstration of the Gospel, and the unfathomable love that our Savior has for each of us.
The video speaks adequately for itself, but it awes me to see that Jesus does not begin fighting for the girl until she begins fighting for him. Prior to that you see him longing for the relationship they had in the beginning, calling to her, and asking God to bring her back to him. Christ's love for us is so great that he wants us to choose him, but will allow us the freedom to be apart from him. This is what makes loving God real and far greater than simply following a set, list of rules. Then you see that once you desire that relationship with him, he'll fight to the end for you.
I had the privilege of watching a group of young Ticos living in some of the roughest neighborhoods in San José perform this Friday night. It was one of the most impacting experiences I have had in my time here.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Estoy Afortunado
Today in my Spanish class we did an activity where we had to write a mock solicitation for a matchmaking website. We worked in groups and asked each other what our ideal match would look like, be like, etc. with the objective of practicing the subjunctive form of the Spanish language. Then we had to share what the other members in our group said. After mine was shared and it was made known that this person actually exists and is my fiancée, the profesora said, "Brandon está afortunado" or, Brandon is fortunate. Loosening my fingers and adjusting my neck, it's time to get sappy.
I am fortunate enough to get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend. An incredible woman of God who continues to amaze me on a daily basis. She puts up with my sense of humor, and chooses to love me in my short-comings. Her desire to care for others reflects the love that Christ has for us and is truly an inspiration to me. It is also what will make her a nurse any hospital would fight to have on its team.
When I look into her eyes I wish I never had to break my gaze. Her smile lights up the room, her joy is contagious, and hearing her laugh will turn the worst of days upside down. I love that when I am with her I never want to leave, and that people are disgusted when they see us together. When we are apart, I count the seconds until I get to see her again.
Danika, you are my sweetheart, my angel, my cuddlebug. I love you with all that I am. I'm honored to call you mine and I cannot wait for the day I get to call you my wife. I thank God daily for blessing me with you. Thank you for being so amazing.
I am fortunate enough to get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend. An incredible woman of God who continues to amaze me on a daily basis. She puts up with my sense of humor, and chooses to love me in my short-comings. Her desire to care for others reflects the love that Christ has for us and is truly an inspiration to me. It is also what will make her a nurse any hospital would fight to have on its team.
When I look into her eyes I wish I never had to break my gaze. Her smile lights up the room, her joy is contagious, and hearing her laugh will turn the worst of days upside down. I love that when I am with her I never want to leave, and that people are disgusted when they see us together. When we are apart, I count the seconds until I get to see her again.
Danika, you are my sweetheart, my angel, my cuddlebug. I love you with all that I am. I'm honored to call you mine and I cannot wait for the day I get to call you my wife. I thank God daily for blessing me with you. Thank you for being so amazing.
Day One in Costa Rica: God's Provisions
Okay, I admit that I am a little late in the game with blogging about my adventures here in Costa Rica. It's already been a month and some odd days, and I have experienced more than I previously thought I could handle. So these will be my best efforts in retracing my steps and bringing y'all up to speed. Yes, I did just use y'all; I do that sometimes.
My time in Costa Rica started abruptly with adventure. I flew in with a few of my friends also in my program--Dana, Shawnté, and Amy--a week early in order to spend some time with a couple Fox alums in Cahuita, a chillaxed reggae town where they live.
The plan: Land in San José, take a taxi to Dana's dad's friend's best friend, Andy's house to leave our surplus luggage we didn't need for the week in a 'safe' place. I'll pause momentarily for you to process that last sentence... Alright, let's continue. From Dana's.. friend's house, take a taxi to the bus station, then take the bus to Cahuita, and meet Chris and Jenn (the Fox alums) to stay with them for the week. Easy, right?
Immediately upon exiting the airport we were bombarded by taxistas trying to grab our luggage in order to secure our business. Fortunately, the one with the micro-bus reigned victorious. We gave the driver the 'address' to Andy's house and we were on our way. I say address with care because here in Costa Rica, there really aren't addresses. More so directions via landmarks, whether they currently exist, or did once upon a time. We ended up making it in relatively good time. This is where the news was broken to me that I was supposed to have my carry-on packed with a week's worth of clothes.
While frantically re-arranging my luggage the girls tried to figure out where the bus station was that we needed to get to. It was just when we were losing all hope that Andy's daughter (who speaks English) walked through the door. We quickly eased her anxiety of the four strangers in her house by introducing ourselves, and sidetracking her by pleading for help. She kindly agreed, and began researching. She figured out that the bus station was in a nearby province called La Huela. However, she doubted that we would be able to get tickets for the same day as buses on this route tend to fill up quick. Nonetheless, we were determined. She called us a cab, we said our goodbyes, and headed off. In the San José rain.
That is when the taxi driver got lost. He had made a call to his company asking if they knew where the Caribeños bus station in La Huela was, but to no avail. Dana, being quick on her feet had the taxi driver call Jenn to ask for help. She made the driver aware that the station was indeed in San José and not La Huela, and we were back in the race. An unnecessary stop to the ATM and a currency explanation by our driver later, we were at the bus station. We thanked the driver, exited the car into the rain, and began to search for the correct ticket window. For the sake of time--we found it, bought the last four tickets, grabbed the last four seats with just under ten minutes to spare.
The ride went smoothly, minus the Tico (a person from Costa Rica) showing his abs off to Shawnté, and being obnoxiously loud for its duration. Then we get to our stop in Cahuita--about 4 and a half hours later--where they let us off. It was pitch black, we were on the side of the road, and Chris and Jenn were no where to be found. Should we walk somewhere, or stay put? We saw a car pulled off the side of the road down from us a ways, was that them? After deciding it probably wouldn't be the greatest idea to approach a foreign car, in a foreign place at night we decided to walk the opposite way. Soon after, we see two bikers who three people with backpacks, and one with a rolling suitcase. They questioned our names, and we responded in elation. We had made it. Alive.
They lead us up a steep and rocky road into the jungle where their humble abode awaited our arrival. Jenn made us an abundant amount of patacones (fried plantains), the best possible meal we could have asked for after a days travel, and a continual craving of ours since. We enjoyed each others company for a short while and then headed to bed for the first time in forty-eight hours.
My time in Costa Rica started abruptly with adventure. I flew in with a few of my friends also in my program--Dana, Shawnté, and Amy--a week early in order to spend some time with a couple Fox alums in Cahuita, a chillaxed reggae town where they live.
The plan: Land in San José, take a taxi to Dana's dad's friend's best friend, Andy's house to leave our surplus luggage we didn't need for the week in a 'safe' place. I'll pause momentarily for you to process that last sentence... Alright, let's continue. From Dana's.. friend's house, take a taxi to the bus station, then take the bus to Cahuita, and meet Chris and Jenn (the Fox alums) to stay with them for the week. Easy, right?
Immediately upon exiting the airport we were bombarded by taxistas trying to grab our luggage in order to secure our business. Fortunately, the one with the micro-bus reigned victorious. We gave the driver the 'address' to Andy's house and we were on our way. I say address with care because here in Costa Rica, there really aren't addresses. More so directions via landmarks, whether they currently exist, or did once upon a time. We ended up making it in relatively good time. This is where the news was broken to me that I was supposed to have my carry-on packed with a week's worth of clothes.
While frantically re-arranging my luggage the girls tried to figure out where the bus station was that we needed to get to. It was just when we were losing all hope that Andy's daughter (who speaks English) walked through the door. We quickly eased her anxiety of the four strangers in her house by introducing ourselves, and sidetracking her by pleading for help. She kindly agreed, and began researching. She figured out that the bus station was in a nearby province called La Huela. However, she doubted that we would be able to get tickets for the same day as buses on this route tend to fill up quick. Nonetheless, we were determined. She called us a cab, we said our goodbyes, and headed off. In the San José rain.
That is when the taxi driver got lost. He had made a call to his company asking if they knew where the Caribeños bus station in La Huela was, but to no avail. Dana, being quick on her feet had the taxi driver call Jenn to ask for help. She made the driver aware that the station was indeed in San José and not La Huela, and we were back in the race. An unnecessary stop to the ATM and a currency explanation by our driver later, we were at the bus station. We thanked the driver, exited the car into the rain, and began to search for the correct ticket window. For the sake of time--we found it, bought the last four tickets, grabbed the last four seats with just under ten minutes to spare.
The ride went smoothly, minus the Tico (a person from Costa Rica) showing his abs off to Shawnté, and being obnoxiously loud for its duration. Then we get to our stop in Cahuita--about 4 and a half hours later--where they let us off. It was pitch black, we were on the side of the road, and Chris and Jenn were no where to be found. Should we walk somewhere, or stay put? We saw a car pulled off the side of the road down from us a ways, was that them? After deciding it probably wouldn't be the greatest idea to approach a foreign car, in a foreign place at night we decided to walk the opposite way. Soon after, we see two bikers who three people with backpacks, and one with a rolling suitcase. They questioned our names, and we responded in elation. We had made it. Alive.
They lead us up a steep and rocky road into the jungle where their humble abode awaited our arrival. Jenn made us an abundant amount of patacones (fried plantains), the best possible meal we could have asked for after a days travel, and a continual craving of ours since. We enjoyed each others company for a short while and then headed to bed for the first time in forty-eight hours.
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