the most over-used word in the world


I know I really shouldn’t have any peeves, but I can’t seem to think of another word for this issue I’d like to make (big ‘n loud) mention of.  Because it just bugs the heck outta me how much, how often, and how over-utilized this word is said no matter where I go, whatever I’m watching (on TV or on the Internet), or reading (books, magazines, flyers, or blogs).

Whether it’s on a news story, an award show, and even on Christian (!) TV or radio stations, this word is the most over-used word in the world:

the word “amazing”


Bargains, clothes, shoes, bags, fashion, and footwear are described as amazing.

Movies, TV shows, operas, concerts, and carnival rides are described as amazing.

Foods, drinks, restaurants, and bar-b-cues are described as amazing.

Doctors, home decorations, gardens, autos, parties, and pets are described as amazing.

And even Christian radio stations begin introducing their guests to their show as “amazing guests” or “amazing speakers”, who have “amazing outreaches” or “amazing ministries”.

So where does that leave the real amazing One of all?

For me, can we just give that word a rest?  Let’s all break out our big, thick English dictionaries or one of them definition-and-synonym-providing Web sites and start utilizing, saying, and typing some other good ‘ole adjectives, why don’t we?  Whaddy’all say?

Sure, rainbows can be quite beautiful, uplifting, and glorious things to see.  And double rainbows even more.  But the most amazing of all?  The One and only Almighty of all, God.


Lk 8:25


 “O Love Divine” by the Steve Pettit Evangelistic Team.  More songs by them is listed on the fav worship tunes page.


Pops in Korea

The sis and our parents are in Korea for vacation.  I couldn’t go because of work and also because I needed to keep watch over the house.

The family went in order to get Pops a new pair of eye glasses (his are over 5 years old) and maybe also a new set of dentures too (if he’s willing to go to the dentist).

The sis had come from LA for her vacation in order to help Mom drag Pops to go to the optical and the dentist while in Korea.  Because he kept refusing to go for the past years, that’s how his eye glasses had gotten so old.

Mom’s always worried that this is gonna be Pops’ last year of life, so that’s why she wanted to take him to Korea again.  She wanted for him to go enjoy himself and to also enjoy some really good Korean chow over there too.

The sis had just emailed to me a pic of him while they were at the Busan Train Station.  Ah, he’s lookin’ like quite the traveler.  What a cool cane he had gotten over there too!
Pops 10 2014

As I was puttin’ away my weed-whackin’ gear yesterday afternoon, I coulda sworn I had heard my Pops’ voice behind me.  All I heard was a clear “Da…” sound.

As I had mentioned to y’all before, he isn’t able to talk because of a stroke that he had since about 8 years ago.  So all he can say is sounds like “Da”, “Dee”, or “Aaah”.  As you can imagine, it’s especially difficult to know what he’s trying to say to us when we call him on the telephone.

So when I had heard that sound of “Da…” coming from behind me, I had quickly spun around, thinkin’ that my family had come back from Korea already.  But no one was there.  Just me and our quiet house behind me.  Somehow, my having heard something that had sounded just like his voice had sure made me smile and given me a big cheer up that day.

Sure can’t wait until the family returns back home again on Sunday.

Every time my Pops makes me upset somehow or we have a tiff about somethin’, I always try to remember what my best friend had said to me before: “I wish I had a Dad to fight with.”  Her own Dad had passed away about 17 years ago.  So I always try to remind myself of what she had said to me.  That I sure need to remember to cherish every single moment that I have with my Pops, because when he’s ever gone…  I’m sure gonna regret not having loved him and shown him love even more everyday while he was here.

Thank you, God, for both of my parents.  And for my Pops’ being able to get a cool new cane to use too.


my weed-whackin’ attire

Yesterday, I had asked my boss for a coupla days of leave time from work. When today came around, I decided to attack them weeds at the back of my house, which have gotten almost shoulder-high in some areas.

I love weed-whackin’. It’s practically my only workout. And talk about a workout with results! Not on my body, of course (grrr…). But on the grass, that is. It feels so good to look back at the weed-whacked (bushcut) grass that’s all nice and trimmed behind me, as I’m vroom-vroomin’ along.

It wasn’t so humid outside today. On some days, I could be sweatin’ so bad, that I can barely keep my eyes open because of the sweat pouring down from my forehead.

I have me a favorite cotton hat which I love to put on whenever I’m gonna do any outdoor work. It used to be my Pops’ construction working hat, so it’s real special to me. Because it’s cotton, it’s comfy, helps to keep the sweat outta my eyes, and has got some paint spackles all over it too.

About 3 years ago, I could weed-whack between 6 to 7 hours long. And even hold my pee the whole time, wouldja believe? I’ve got bladder problems (amongst my other issues), but somehow, I’m able to hold my whiz for that long when it comes to weed-whackin’ years ago.

But now, I can only weed-whack for about 2 to 3 hours long. Sometimes my back starts to already crank out within the first half hour. But I keep trudging on, if that be the case, for at least an hour and a half long, so that my having put on all of my gear wouldn’t have been a waste.

What’s my weed-whackin’ gear? (I woulda taken pictures of these items, but the sis took my camera with her to Korea. She and the parents had all left me to guard the house for vacation. Okay fine, cuz I had to go to work and don’t got me no vacation time yet too.)

1. My Pops’ old work hat.

2. Long pants, preferably cargo pants cuz they’ve got more pockets. I stick a wire-cutting tool into my left thigh pocket and use it as a plier to yank out the used weed-whackin’ strings out, in order to stick in new ones. And I put at least 10 pre-cut weed-whackin’ strings into my right side thigh pocket.

3. A pair of lime green-colored galoshes, which my Mom had gotten for me about 5 years ago. There’s a hole on the bottom of one of them cuz I had accidentally stepped onto a plywood that had nails stickin’ out of ‘em. Ouchie!


4. My weed-whackin’ face mask. It kinda looks like a welder’s mask, except it’s not enclosed in the back of my head. Just a clear plastic cover that’s attached to an adjustable head gear thingy.  There are 2 main stuffs it protects my face from:

#1.  Flyin’ rocks.

#2.  Doggie poopie.  I actually had a picture of the kinda doggie poopie that I always hit out there with my weed-whacker.  But I ended up deleting it cuz it woulda grossed y’all out and me too fo sho.  But in order to give y’all a sorta idea of how big those poopie bombs can be, they’re often about 3 to 5 inches wide.  So whenever I’d accidentally hit ‘em, this is what happens, dependin’ on the weather:

a.  If it’s raining and them poopies are sloshy, then they go SPLAT! onto my clothes and face mask.

b.  If it’s a nice and sunny day, then them poopies go POOF! and burst into the air – and its blown up particles go stickin’ onto my clothes and hair.

My neighbors have about 6 dogs that always cross on over as they please all around the outside of my house (a gate has been in building process to prevent this for the past month now).  So how many doggie poopies do I hit with my weed-whacker?  Between at least 2 to up to 10.  That’s right, up to 10 bombs that go Splat! or Poof! on me.  Carumba.

5.  A very long and thick, black-colored apron. I’m not sure what this apron is supposed to be worn for cuz I’ve never in my life seen construction workers wear such an apron.  I think they sorta look like the kind that butchers would wear.  Anyhow, it’s been my BEST flying rocks protector.

In the past, I never bothered to get me such an apron because I thought that it would just make me sweat even more, when I’m already almost blind from the rain already coming down my forehead.  But au contrair (did I spell that right?).  Prior to my wearing the apron, I used to get at least 30 welts all over my legs and thighs.  The worst is when a rock would hit me right on the very same spot where another rock had hit me so hard, that it had left a big bruise.  When that happens, I yell out, “Aaah!”, lean over on my weed-whacker, and pretty much just cry my eyes out cuz it hurt so bad.

But now that I’ve got this good ‘ole long apron to wear, it really does do an awesome job of providing an extra thick layer of protection from flying rocks.  I’ve been using the one I have for about 3 months now and boy, oh boy is it torn up.  Almost looks like bullet holes all over the bottom of it.

In case you’re deciding to get one for yourself too, make sure to get the kind of long, thick apron which has an adjustable strap for your neck and for your waist.  The straps have a sorta clasp which clicks together.  For those aprons which don’t have this type of adjustable clasp, they just have a sorta string for your neck and waist to tie with.  Not a good thing, especially if the apron is too long for you.  That’s the case for me, so I do a sorta folding thing on the waist part of the apron and then click on the clasp real nice and snug on the back of my waist.  That long apron never unravels.

6.  And last of all, it’s important to wear good gloves.  I used to wear a pair of cotton gloves inside of a pair of long rubber gloves that went all the way to my elbows.  But those rubber gloves have since been discarded and the long pairs of rubber gloves that I do have now are not as big a size, that I can’t wear cotton gloves underneath ‘em.  So I have to choose whether I’m gonna put on a pair of cotton gloves or long rubber gloves.

The benefit of wearing long rubber gloves is that they keep the flying rocks from making bruises on my arms.  I have yet to find cotton gloves that are long and reach to my elbows, so that they can do the same thing.  So in order to protect my arms while I was gonna attack the weeds that were really in the boonies one day, I decided to put on them rubber gloves.  This was not a good idea.  Because after about 4 hours of my hands sweating inside of the gloves, my knuckles started to get raw inside of ‘em.  So I took out the little torn towel that I was using as a handkerchief, found me some masking tape, and made me a makeshift bandage to wear inside of my gloves.


The thumb knuckle looked worse than the middle finger knuckle, but it was the middle finger knuckle that was feelin’ more owie to me.
handThe type of local spiders that are often all over the boonies.  It’s usually the smaller ones that I find crawling on the brim of my hat or on my pants.  Thank God not the big ones yet.  I don’t think these bite, but still…they be creepy critters.


keep lookin’ up, I say

Whatta coupla months.

Two car accidents, wearisome home renovations (going up and down ladders to paint the very humid exterior, mixing cement, hammering out the crooked parts of the dried cement…), and then an argument with one of my co-workers at my new job yesterday.  Sigh.

When life goes back into messy cycle once again, oh, how quickly we can become deeply discouraged, doubtful of God’s love and care for us, and basically in a downright dagnabbit mood.

So reading this reminder in today’s Streams in the Desert devotional had sure helped me a whole lot this morning.

“The Devil has two very useful tricks.  The first is to tempt us to become discouraged, for then we are defeated and of no service to others, at least for a while.  The other is to tempt us to doubt, thereby breaking the bond of faith that unites us with the Father.  So watch out!  Do not be tricked either way.”

~ G.E.M.

Most folks don’t like rainy weather.  Maybe it’s because having to carry (and remember to carry) an umbrella can be a hassle.  And the water may mess up our hair.

But for me, I love rainy weather.  I get slightly bummed that I’ve gotta wake up early and head to work again.  But as I’m driving to there, I always crane my neck up to see where the rainbow is.

And for the past week, I’ve seen 3 double rainbows.  Sweet.

Day to day life keeps makin’ me wanna keep my head down to the ground and stare at the heavy steel-toed boots that I have to wear for work (which gives me owie blisters, oy).  But I thank God that the rain sprinkling down on me reminds me to look up for them rainbows.

when God moves a book and painting

Whenever I’d come back from volunteering at a hospice office while living in Los Angeles with the sis some months ago, I used to always make it a point to stop by my neighborhood public library.  I’d check out 2 book shelves while there: the Free Books book shelf and the $1 Each book shelf.

Once in a blue moon, I’d come across a fantabulous find on the Free Books book shelf (such as a Sherlock Holmes Mysteries book – with pictures!).

But most of the time, I’d find really old books there that probably nobody with Internet connection at home would ever pick up to read.  Books such as on “How to Play Tennis”, which had black and white-pictured instructions on the different kinds of tennis swings one could do.  Moves ya might as well watch within several minutes on YouTube, rather than try to figure out with words on a yellowing small paperback book.

But one of them really great finds I had ever come by was a paperback book I had almost not turned over.  I had just about ignored the book cuz it looked so beat up (chucked and flung around) because of its very folded up edges.  I unrolled its mildly-torn cover and looked at its front cover.  Oh, it was The Shack book!

I had often heard about this book in Christian circles, magazines, and in bookstores, but had never checked out the book myself.  I hadn’t even ever picked up the book to read what it was about on its back cover.  All I knew was that it was a Christian fiction novel.

When it comes to reading Christian books, I used to go crazy over them.  When I had first become a Christian, Bible reading seemed like such difficult reading for me, that I was constantly searching for inspirational books that would clarify what in the world the Bible was trying to say.  Reading various inspirational books by different Christian authors (Philip Yancey and Oswald Chambers were 2 of my favorites) and trying to read different translations of the Bible went on and on for about the first couple of years of my Christian life.

Then one day, I had heard somewhere that Christians needed to stop reading about the Bible and just read the Bible itself.  That’s when I realized, oh yeah, no kiddin’.  That way, I’d remember where them Bible verses are located too, if I were to read the same Bible’s pages over and over again, instead of reading different Bibles all of the time.

So ever since then, I’ve been trying to limit myself on reading inspirational material and trying to just read the Bible itself.  That was one of the reasons I hadn’t ever picked up The Shack book.  Not only was it another inspirational book, I had heard, but a fiction one too.  Not for me, I had always thought.

But now here it was, sitting on the Free Books book shelf.  Might as well read it now, since I never had, and since it’s free and all.  Might as well find out what all the hubbub about it is all about, I thought to myself, as I put it into my backpack.

When I got home, I broke out my roll of scotch tape and unfurled the book’s covers and pages.  I taped its covers and brought it back to readable ship-shapeness.

The Shack book

As some of y’all know from my having given a review of The So Brave Young and Handsome book, I’m not such a good book reviewer.  Guess I’ll just say this: If you come across The Shack book at your local library, it’s worth borrowing to read.

As I was in the middle of reading the book, I had come back home to Guam again.  While eating dinner at the table one day, I noticed a painting hanging on one of the kitchen walls.  “Where’d you get that painting?”, I asked my Mom.  She said that the friend from whom she had bought a bed mattress from had given it to her for free.  I kept staring at the painting as I ate my chow on the table.

If I hadn’t seen The Shack book at that library’s book shelf and wasn’t then at the moment reading the book, the painting would probably not have had much affect on me, besides it being cool that it was an actual painting and not a print in a frame.

Seeing that painting made me think of God again.  He musta placed that book on that Free book shelf for me (knowing that I probably wouldn’t have paid a buck for it bein’ a tattered paperback and all).  And He musta provided for this painting to come into our home for free too.  I now saw how God not only moves mountains to get our attention, but also books and paintings too.


The Shack painting