"Home to Me" Final

After a long week of homework, after-school activities, insecurities and stress, I take my first step through the doors of my home. Its a friday, the last day of the school week. Theres not a better feeling than knowing you have two days to relax, at least for most people.

I begin to put down my 50 lb.. bags and relax for a bit, but only for half a second. I jump into the shower and quickly refreshen myself, in a big hurry to get ready. Its four thirty pm! I have exactly an hour to be out of the house and on the road, for church! As I scrambling to pick my outfit and make a huge mountain of indecisive outfits, I also try to remember and recite lyrics, searching for the right harmonies and melodies in every corner of my brain. My mind and my thoughts swim in the big ocean known as my head. The insecurities and stress still continue after the school week is over. Although, I don't worry for too long. 

All ready and dressed, I run into the car and try to gather my thoughts and catch my breath before I arrive there because its important to be calm and relaxed before I even get there. I swing the door as quickly as possible because I'm already ten minutes late. I see the worship team already unwinding the tangled cords, setting up the drum glass, gathering up the mics and even the sound team adjusting their different knobs and volumes. When all equipment and sound is ready, we start to rehearse our songs. If you haven't guessed yet, I'm on my church's worship team. We start to sing; both slow and fast music, my stress, my tears from this week, my insecurities and fears seem to slowly fly away. Like birds being set free from a cage, I feel so free and no longer in sadness or worry. The wanted Joy finally comes upon me and floods me like a river. Grace gives me peace and I'm ready; I'm ready for the lights to close, the people to come, and my heart to be renewed.

The band starts to play the first song on our setlist and I never fail to get the tingly butterflies scrambling in my stomach. Stage fright has always been a weakness for me ever since I was little girl. We kick off worship to a good start with our upbeat and fast paced song. The music picks up from our mics and speakers and amplifies to the street even before our church building. As we reach the slow songs on our setlist, the faces and mood of the people change, although not in a bad way at all. Its as if you can see right through them. Being on the worship team helps me to see things at a different perspective, I see the brokeness in the youth and I feel their pain especially because I go through almost the same things as them. For me, I love when we sing the slower songs because it allows me to reflect and think. I see the tears and the hurt that has been held in this whole time. For most people, it may even be an emotional time depending on what they went through during that week. We know that Gods working and moving in the hearts of the people so we put our trust in him and do our part of leading worship as he does his. This is a place where I can be myself and not worry about people judging me, especially because no ones suppose to judge at our church.

Church is a place where I find myself after those long and strenuous weeks. I lose myself in stress and over thinking, and most of the time I forget who I really am. Every week, the message seems to really connect to my situation and problem i'm personally going through. It redirects me back to God and how he always has grace for me and also for the fact that he's in control. He knows the plans he has for me, and I always need to be reminded of that, especially when things don't go the way I want them to. At church, the vibes are different; its suppose to be different! Everyone has a joy and positivity upon them, all you see is smiles and many times, tears of relief. The smiles and laughs are contagious and it gives you a boost, it reassures me that everything will be okay, no matter how circumstances may seem. This place is special compared to any other place I could have chosen because the feeling and emotions I get when I'm at church is unexplainable. I don't feel refreshed, renewed and uplifted as much as I do at other places. This is where it all started, at this church; before I was even born. This is where my parents would pray over me in the womb. This is where it starts and where it all ends. Theres a security that reassures me that is said and done in church, stays there. Along with my past and my burdens, it all comes and goes at this one special place of mine.

Throughout time I've built up walls and barriers around me, both emotionally and mentally, just to hide the real me and the things I've gone through. Church is the only place I feel like I can be myself and truly let out my feelings and thoughts. I grew up in this church, when I was still in my mothers womb. It has become my sense of place. I connect with God and share my deepest thoughts with him, only because he knows me best. He knows the things that haven't even happened, he knows what I'm thinking, he knows how I'm feelings and he's the only one who understands me without even having to explain; theres no other place I'd rather be than here in his presence.

Outside Reading Card

"Home to Me" Draft

After a long week of homework, after-school activities, insecurities and stress, I take my first step through the doors of my home. Its a friday, the last day of the school week. Theres not a better feeling than knowing you have two days to relax, at least for most people.

I begin to put down my 50 lb.. bags and relax for a bit, but only for half a second. I jump into the shower and quickly refreshen myself, in a big hurry to get ready. Its four thirty pm! I have exactly an hour to be out of the house and on the road, for church! As I scrambling to pick my outfit and make a huge mountain of indecisive outfits, I also try to remember and recite lyrics, searching for the right harmonies and melodies in every corner of my brain. My mind and my thoughts swim in the big ocean known as my head. The insecurities and stress still continue after the school week is over. Although, I don't worry for too long. 

All ready and dressed, I run into the car and try to gather my thoughts and catch my breath before I arrive there because its important to be calm and relaxed before I even get there. I swing the door as quickly as possible because I'm already ten minutes late. I see the worship team already unwinding the tangled cords, setting up the drum glass, gathering up the mics and even the sound team adjusting their different knobs and volumes. When all equipment and sound is ready, we start to rehearse our songs. If you haven't guessed yet, I'm on my church's worship team. We start to sing; both slow and fast music, my stress, my tears from this week, my insecurities and fears seem to slowly fly away. Like birds being set free from a cage, I feel so free and no longer in sadness or worry. The wanted Joy finally comes upon me and floods me like a river. Grace gives me peace and I'm ready; I'm ready for the lights to close, the people to come, and my heart to be renewed.

The band starts to play the first song on our setlist and I never fail to get the tingly butterflies scrambling in my stomach. Stage fright has always been a weakness for me ever since I was little girl. We kick off worship to a good start with our upbeat and fast paced song. The music picks up from our mics and speakers and amplifies to the street even before our church building. As we reach the slow songs on our setlist, the faces and mood of the people change, although not in a bad way at all. Its as if you can see right through them. Being on the worship team helps me to see things at a different perspective, I see the brokeness in the youth and I feel their pain especially because I go through almost the same things as them. For me, I love when we sing the slower songs because it allows me to reflect and think. I see the tears and the hurt that has been held in this whole time. For most people, it may even be an emotional time depending on what they went through during that week. We know that Gods working and moving in the hearts of the people so we put our trust in him and do our part of leading worship as he does his. This is a place where I can be myself and not worry about people judging me, especially because no ones suppose to judge at our church.

Church is a place where I find myself after those long and strenuous weeks. I lose myself in stress and over thinking, and most of the time I forget who I really am. Every week, the message seems to really connect to my situation and problem i'm personally going through. It redirects me back to God and how he always has grace for me and also for the fact that he's in control. He knows the plans he has for me, and I always need to be reminded of that, especially when things don't go the way I want them to. At church, the vibes are different; its suppose to be different! Everyone has a joy and positivity upon them, all you see is smiles and many times, tears of relief. The smiles and laughs are contagious and it gives you a boost, it reassures me that everything will be okay, no matter how circumstances may seem.

Throughout time I've built up walls and barriers around me, both emotionally and mentally, just to hide the real me and the things I've gone through. Church is the only place I feel like I can be myself and truly let out my feelings and thoughts. I grew up in this church, when I was still in my mothers womb. It has become my sense of place. I connect with God and share my deepest thoughts with him, only because he knows me best. He knows the things that haven't even happened, he knows what I'm thinking, he knows how I'm feelings and he's the only one who understands me without even having to explain; theres no other place I'd rather be than here in his presence.

Brainy Pics Vocabulary

Roots & Recipe FINAL

Living in an americanized 'filipino' home, is different than your usually traditional ways. Your meals aren't all filipino foods and your parents probably don't know how to speak the language. It doesn't change the fact that you're filipino and neither does change the fact that you're proud of your culture, heritage and nationality.

Gisantes isn't just a food to me, its attached with many memories. Memories from long ago and memories of just a few weeks that passed. As I lay on my bed and play with my phone, I suddenly feel my nostrils fill with the sweet aroma of boiling tomato sauce and thats when I instantly start jumping up and down on the inside. The famous smell of freshly cut meat and boiling tomatoes, tell me that the famous Gisantes is being prepared. I constantly walk in and out of the kitchen, just to peek at the majestic food right in front of me. All the scents of the ingredients, meats and vegetables, fill the house and create a trail all the way to the doorway of my room. Like always, my dad kindly asked me to bring out the green peas from the refrigerator, "Lizabeth! Hurry, go get the peas!" As I may my way over to him, I feel the icicld bag melt as it reaches the warmth of my hands. Its the little things that imprint memories in my mind.

I ask my dad, "What makes this dish so special to you? Do you have any special memories with it?" He replies, "Yes, special memories I have with it is that whenever mama and papa went to the pig farm for meat, they usually made 2 traditional dishes. One of those dishes were Pork Gisantes." As I sit there, my heart melts in the fact that this dish really meant a lot to my Dad. As well as for me. This food reminds me of moments when I was in Virginia with my two elderly Grandparents. When my Mama would prepare the dish for my gigantic family of about 50 people, everyone went crazy for it, eating as if we've been starving for weeks. Thats just our immediate family! It also brings back memories of the one time all of my dads siblings and their families were together in Virginia, all 11 of them. It was unforgettable and it was also the first time our whole family was together and complete. This simple dish can make me remember the best times of my life and it always makes me feel warm and delighted on the inside.

Patiently waiting for the Gisantes to finish, I think a lot about the background of the food and even about how my dad may be feeling. He looks so happy and proud to be making it, that I ask him, "Dad, how do you feel while making this" Once more, his responses touch me. "It always brings me back to the days growing up and it reminds me of my mom and dad" Its a bittersweet feeling while we prepare and even consume the dish. Having my Mama and Papa so far away in the mainland, is really devastating. Every chance we get to go there, I cherish every single moment and second I can with them. Constantly I wish I could fly over seas in few seconds, or teleport to them; eating Gisantes makes things just a bit more easier, for not only me, but for my family. It makes me feel like I'm a bit closer to their hearts.

Pork Gisantes Draft

Living in an americanized 'filipino' home, is different than your usually traditional ways. Your meals aren't all filipino foods and your parents probably don't know how to speak the language. It doesn't change the fact that you're filipino and neither does change the fact that you're proud of your culture, heritage and nationality.

My nostrils fill with the sweet aroma of boiling tomato sauce and thats when I instantly start jumping up and down on the inside. The famous smell of freshly cut meat and boiling tomatoes, tell me that the classic Giantess is being prepared. I constantly walk in and out of the kitchen, just to peek at the majestic food right in front of me. All the scents of the ingredients, meats and vegetables, fill the house and create a trail all the way to my doorway. My dad kindly asks me to bring out the green peas from the refrigerator and I feel the icicled bag melt as it reaches the warmth of my hands. Its the little things that are imprinted in my memories and events while making Pork Gisantes.

I ask my dad, "What makes this dish so special to you? Do you have any special memories with it?" He replies, "Yes, special memories I have with it is that whenever my parents went to the pig farm for meat, they usually made 2 traditional dishes. One of those dishes were Pork Gisantes." As I sit there, my heart melts in the fact that this dish really means a lot to my Dad. As well as for me. This food reminds me of moments when I was in Virginia with my two elderly Grandparents. When my Mama would prepare the dish for my gigantic family of about 50 people, everyone went crazy for it, eating as if we've been starving for weeks. Thats just our immediate family! It also brings back memories of the one time all of my dads siblings and their families were together in Virginia, all 11 of them. It was an unforgettable and it was also the first time our whole family was together and complete.

Patiently waiting for the Gisantes to finish, I think a lot about the background and even about how my dad may be feelings. He looks so happy and proud to be making it, that I ask him, "Dad, how do you feel while making this"And once more, his responses touch me. "It always brings me back to the days growing up and it reminds me of my mom and dad" Its a bittersweet feeling while we prepare and even consume the dish. Having my Mama and Papa so far away, is really devastating. Every chance we get to go there, I cherish every single moment and second I can with them. And even though I wish I could fly over seas in few seconds, or teleport to them; eating Gisantes makes things just a bit more easier, for not only me, but for my family to accept. 

Roots & Recipe Brainstorm

1.  The food I will be describing is a very popular Filipino dish. It is called Pork Gisantes. It's usually at every single Filipino party you go to and it's kind of a family tradition for it to be there. This dish isn't there at all of our 'immediate family gatherings' because we're more Americanized Filipinos. Immediate family, as in my dad’s siblings and their families. Although, when we go to parties with people I don't even know, in other words, extended family gatherings, they always have this dish prepared!

2.      Some special memories this food has for me is that its originally my grandmas recipe. Making Pork Gisantes is pretty much the same steps and directions for any Filipino family that makes it. Although, there are many things you can do to make it different from others. I have memories of learning how to make our families’ recipe with my dad and also eating it with my family. The most special memories I have with this food, is eating gisantes with my grandparents in Virginia. 

3.  Some sensory details I could use are, “My nostrils fill with the sweet smell of boiling tomato sauce and that’s when I know my dad is making our classic gistantes – pork and peas ”. Also, “As my dad tells me to bring out the green peas, I feel the icicled bag melt as it reaches the warm of my hands.” Little detailed expressions like these will really put the reader into the story!

4.  For this food, I will be interviewing my dad. Part of the reason because I have easy access to speaking to him about this dish. Most importantly though, because my grandma is his mom on his side.