Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Sukkot 2016 (Steelville, MO)

Hey guys!
      Since returning home from the feast, and after months of attempting to get back on schedule, I have finally found time to write about the many occurrences that have happened over the course of 5 months time! I have so much to catch you up on, (which in the mean time, I can easily finish my puebla, so I can complete part 2 of 'Tattered'!), but first I must share the many fond memories I have treasured from this year's FOT! I regret not taking more pictures, but this is what I have and it is my hope that the following year I will have taken much more! But until then, savor the moments captured!

Preparing for the Trip:
       June 6, 2016 Yahweh confirmed to me that we'd attend Eliyah's FOT in Steelville, MO this year.
I was quite hesitant the moment He told me, was this true? Of course, ever since browsing through 2015's Sukkot Photo Gallery and attending the same gathering one year prior, naturally I really wanted to go. But I didn't want to assume that it was from Yahweh if it was my own carnality. However, through several previous confirmations,Yahweh told me without a shadow of a doubt that we would be going to MO for Sukkot this year.
       To demonstrate my faith, He instructed me to begin working on some projects for the auction... this was a huge step on my part! Heeding His instruction, I day by day completed items for the feast. About one month later, I finally had the courage to tell my family about what Yahweh had told me. They were surprised and very happy to say the least! I'd have to say that their belief was a lot stronger than mine, lol. Even after telling my family, and after we had all started creating items for the feast, in the back of my mind was the haunting whisper, "What if it doesn't happen?"
       After a while though, the thought faded away as business swept over us, stirring our hearts as we chattered about the upcoming feast that was soon to arrive!
       Serious preparations had begun to unfold about a month or so prior to Sukkot. We had lots to complete! Planning menus, sorting wardrobes, finishing auction items, and cutting our latest CD was just the skeleton... there was so much to flesh out!
       Day by day as Sukkot approached us, uncompleted projects, menus, and even our album began to come together within time. Paintings, crocheted items, wood burned plaques, etc. were finally on their way to being finished! Sukkot was just around the corner, and we had no time to waste!

     
       Unfortunately, a week prior to us leaving, our dad had received confirmation that he wouldn't be going with us this year. It was sad to think that he wouldn't be able to come with us, and we didn't understand Yahweh's leading, but we knew that He had a plan and a purpose for it, and that we should trust Him either way.
       With the trailer packed tight, and the sleepless night behind us, hours before leaving our album was complete. Discs burned rapidly while neighboring computers spat out CDs in no time. Everything was set: meals made, clothes packed, kitchen and camping supplies buckled down, map printed, and items for the auction tucked safely away. We were ready, everything was set.
       Minutes before we left, we all gathered together as a family and prayed for one another. Us for safe journeys, and daddy for safety at home. Besides the joys of the feast to come, the sadness of not being able to celebrate together left a small ache in our hearts. We would miss him so much, but we would be okay.
       After prayer, we exchanged hugs and kisses, and retrieved any items we may have forgotten, also fetching some CDs for the car to listen to music as we traveled. Alas, we bade farewells to our pets for the week, packed up some snacks with water, and climbed into the car with Annie and mama in front, and I in back. Looking over my shoulder as I waved goodbye to daddy, the car drove farther from home and toward our destination. Finally at last, after months of waiting, we were on our way!


Traveling Time:
       After about 45 minutes on the road, pulling over in between to check the trailer and to swap places with Annie so I could read the map, we hit the Mississippi River in no time! The crossing between the two states was a moment I will always remember! Being stories high above the vastness of the water, with the bridge's heights towering over you is such a surreal experience! Definitely an awesome memory I will forever hold dear to my heart!
       Once arriving in Missouri, we were headed for adventure!
Dark clouds enveloped the skies, threatening to release a downpour... still we drove on, until the smokiness broke through into a sea of droplets raining heavily from heaven. But the second storm... was worst. We scarce could see the cars in front of us, everywhere was hazy white... the rain poured down... hard. We had to slow down and pull to the side of the highway for a bit until the rain eased up... it was really frightening! We drove through it however, and were back on our feet not long after.
       Sometime in the middle of the second or third storm, we hadn't secured the tarp well onto the trailer (from previous checkups and pullovers)... so when the winds were whipping down the highway, the tarp lifted and started slipping off trailer!
       But praise Yahweh, mama had just pulled over to the farther right side before the tarp could fly off entirely! After pulling over, she headed out to secure the tarp onto the trailer. On my right side (I being in the passenger seat), I was concerned about mama, even more so for Annie who would join her not soon after.
       The traffic on the left was zooming past them at alarming speed, an eighteen wheeler had drove close enough to the drivers's side to cause the car to rock violently from the force of the truck. I whispered silent prayers for Annie and mama as they remained out in the rain, hoping they would be safe.
       Not long after, Annie ran to my side of the car and opened my door to borrow my pocket knife. I fidgeted through my purse only to dump out the contents in my lap in search for the knife. Handing it to her, she took off while I shut my door; a shiver trickling down my spine... praying steadily as before.
       Finally, after about 10-15 minutes, they returned drenched in water from the head down. They told me that they had attempted to secure the tarp and hoped that it would hold until the next upcoming exit. Fortunately, it held.
      When we merged onto the right exit, making a left near a gas station, mama parked and hopped out with Annie to further inspect the problem and properly align and make adjustments so the tarp could be fastened onto the trailer, while I remained in the car again. And that is when it dawned on me...
       Where is my pocket knife? Of course I had assumed that Annie had it since I handed it to her last, but it was when she approached me again to borrow it that I felt concerned.
       As I explained that I had handed it to her during the third light storm, her countenance fell as she discovered that the knife was no longer nested at the bottom of her pockets.
      She had searched the entire back seat, but deep in the pit of my heart, I had little hope that I would ever see it again. It was gone. But this was not just a pocket knife... this was my grandfather's pocket knife, from his father, and his father's father... it was special. But now, it was gone forever.
       Not soon after, she was called. Apologizing for my loss, she left me in the car alone to think about the sudden turn of events. I was very disappointed to say the least. Maybe the knife wasn't important... but the sentimental value of it could never be regained.
       Praying aloud, I asked Yahweh for peace. Even though this seemed trivial, even though I would get over it by the time we reached the grounds, I still needed peace and assurance that everything would be okay. Instead, I was met by the calming whisper of  His love. I have it right here... 
       His unseen guidance in action as my hand brushed against the cold steel object lying beside the cup holder. I was bewildered. In a matter of moments, I had seen a miracle... it may have been trivial, but a miracle remains one despite the size of it. And that's something I learned that day out of the many miracles He had performed for us already. Yahweh cares about every detail in our lives, no matter how trivial.
       Almost as instantly as Annie and mama returned, I told them everything that happened and we all rejoiced and praised Yahweh for the miraculous work He had done throughout this journey. It was amazing!
       With a remainder of two hours left on our journey, we traveled without incident toward our destination. Hearing the joys of constant conversation of the upcoming feast made me smile... though I was excited, I had purposed in my mind not to allow the butterflies in my stomach to take flight lest I become too shy to enjoy myself.
       Before I knew it, we had arrived. Yahweh's promise had been fulfilled, here we were! About to enter the feast we had waited so long for, and it finally had come.

     
The Arrival:
       From the moment I saw the banner, the butterflies within unleashed into uncontrollable flutters. We were here, we had finally arrived safely to our destination!
       Before we knew it, we had found our site and were already setting up camp in no time. With plenty of helping hands, our site was nearly complete before nightfall. After the last finishing touches, with both tents and canopy furnished, we headed for the showers, returned to the camp afterwards, and chatted of the days events before we dozed off to sleep. Such an eventful, miraculous day!
       The next morning, after eating some breakfast burritos, we did a little more organizing in the canopy (we use this as our kitchen), so everything would be easily accessible during the rest of the week. After helping mama out, mama suggested that Annie and I could go to the Conference Center to meet new people and make new friends. Annie was thrilled, but I being extremely shy and introverted decided to compromise my comfort zone since Sukkot is Annie's main sorce of social interaction, so after fetching my guitar and staying close by her side, I followed her up to the Conference Center.
       As we entered the hall, I spotted a secluded area where I could stay and play music while Annie socialized, such a perfect plan! However, I discovered very quickly that Annie wanted to socialize with me, so I kind of had no choice but to do otherwise.
       I struggled with the present dilemma, Why am I being difficult? After all, Sukkot provides the opportunity to meet new people... Annie needs this anyway. But unfortunately, after contemplating on what I should do, my shyness got the best of me and we stayed in the secluded area for a bit.
       After a mere pause from plucking my guitar strings, I looked over my shoulder to see Annie behind me... disappointed and sad. Why does my shyness have to dictated to me in social situations? I sighed, turning completely to face her, "Alright, I'll be willing to meet new people with you. But can we do it gradually at least? Start with someone we know?"
       Just around that time, someone had come over to where we were, and sat down across from us to introduced himself as Josiah. Annaliese, naturally an extrovert, sat up front with me to begin a conversation as I mentally lost myself in the music. I didn't want to look rude, but again, my shyness gets the best of me at times, unfortunately.
       As they continued to converse, another young man came over and introduced himself too as Josiah's brother, Caleb. While Annie began to form yet another acquaintance, I continued plucking the strings as sweet melodies drew forth from the sound hole into the air. Thus far, I had introduced myself to two people, Josiah and Caleb, but I hadn't looked at them during the introduction... my eyes remained on the clear nylon strings below me, my safety blanket... my comfort zone.
       As Annie continued to talk with Josiah, my efforts to focus on the music alone made me become aware that I may have communicated that I didn't want to socialize, which was partly true. But, like I have mentioned before... shyness had unfortunately clamped me down, resulting from the butterflies at the entrance and a myriad of other reasons.
       However, while listening to the music as he studied the coordination of my fingers, Caleb struck a musical conversation with me which eased a lot of the tension. It didn't take long to finally warm up and begin to converse with my new acquaintance. Before I knew it, we both had guitars in hand and began to fill the room with music. The ice had been broken! It was such a wonderful feeling to be able to hear another instrument play with me at present, there is nothing like the sound of live music to the ears!


       Though the audio in the video below is indistinct, it does capture one of the most beautiful moments of the feast, which is why I have posted it anyway. It isn't perfect, but it is a memory, and for that, it's definitely worth uploading!
       The piece I was playing was a Celtic arrangement by Clive Carroll, (check out my cover here), while Caleb attempted to play an accompaniment with his guitar. The video illustrates the moments in which we were trying to figure out how to make the two unify. We really had fun!

     
       Somewhere in between, we ended up meeting nearly the entirety of the Gulder family, which are very musically inclined! I was very pleased that both our families hit it off at Sukkot for the rest of the week... it was really awesome to finally meet them!
       After sometime, still remaining on the subject of music, Caleb revealed his cello after hearing that I was about to bring one home after Sukkot. I thank Yahweh my mama was there at that moment to encourage me to learn a little bit about the instrument, and to try it out after Caleb offered me to, because if she wasn't there, my shyness would've gotten the best of me!


       As I examine the picture above, I can't help but critique myself! LOL! But, things are awkward if you aren't used to it, and that's all there is to it! I had fun, nevertheless, and learned quite a bit. Boy, are there such differences between a violin and cello! LOL! They are so similar, and yet, not similar in other ways. It's a pretty incredible instrument! And I'm glad that I have the privilege of owning one today!
       Toward the evening we returned to the conference center with guitar and ukulele in hand to welcome in the Shabbat with some worship, joining a handful of brethren singing to the side. Those moments together were very spirit filled, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Spirit of Yahweh was in our midst. It was really amazing to feel His presence on one of the most set apart nights of Sukkot.
       After worship, my attention was captured by a certain violinist that I had wanted so much to meet earlier that year. He played so splendidly it brought tears to me eyes! As I watched him perform on stage with another musician, I began to unwind and my mind traveled back to the fulfilled promise that Yahweh had orchestrated. We were here.
       


       The week followed with various activities, fellowship meetings, community campfires, lots of singing and music, classes, baptisms, the auction, and lots more!
       Sadly, one of the highlights for me of the feast were unfortunately not captured on camera, and playing countless games of Mafia with the Gulders was definitely one of them! Watching others trying to fit the pieces together on who was the Mafia that had eliminated the previous player was completely entertaining! So many stories, and so many wonderful memories we shared together that night! It was awesome!
       I spent quite a bit of time with Caleb as well, we were either jamming at our campsite, at the community center, campfire, or wherever we happened to be at the moment. It was really fun to get to know him and we were soon fast friends. So many other moments weren't pictured, my few violin sessions that I had with Benjamin, the opportunity to teach davidic dancing with two girls who were familiar with a few steps and wanted to learn more dances, the community meetings, the singing, the music, the women's meeting, survival class, I missed so much... (don't let shyness grip you, LOL).
       Yahweh willing though, next year there will definitely be much more!!! Be alas, these are the moments captured.


During the auction, the youth were assisting in helping bring the current items to the front. (Only Annie and Kaitlyn happened to be looking at the camera, LOL!)


Moments before Annie and her acquaintances had their turn for displaying auction items, they took a quick snap to capture a joy filled moment. Glad Annie had lots of fun this year! :D


Mr. Tate and his organization of  the Youth and Family Night played some worship, it was a performance like no other. There is nothing more beautiful than to witness Yahweh's people offering up their praises to him! HalleluYah!



And here, I was especially blessed by the music of the Schminke and Kelley family, they have such an anointing on them its radiant! To be able witness the Spirit of Yahweh in the room was a beautiful experience in the midst of the Body of Messiah. It was amazing to once again be rejuvenated by His love.


       I cannot mention enough what a fantastic week we had at the feast! I remember nearly every night staying up late past twelve with my mom reliving the events that occurred. I smile every time I think of it, such fond memories. 
       During the week, whenever we had the opportunity, we would Skype our dad and tell him how much fun we were having and that all was well. Being able to fellowship with the brethren was amazing and very much needed, I learned so much this year and I was immensely blessed. The fear of singing on stage was beginning to subside, and the shyness I was feeling was starting to wear off. But sadly, before we knew it... Sukkot was drawing to a close. 
       As we marched toward the river, it began to dawn on me... I had waited months for the feast to arrive, and now it was ending... and wouldn't  begin until next year. 
       The gravel shifted beneath me as I walked on with my violin case strapped to my back, it was such a different Sukkot... but a good different, something I had begun to welcome, but it was slowly slipping away... it was slipping away.


      After a few minutes, we had finally arrived at the river for the the baptisms. There were quite a few people there already, so it was pretty easy to blend into the crowd. We stayed there a bit, but spotting an isolated place near the water away from activity, mama suggested to take a walk and check out the location.
       The river was so beautiful! Shimmering, inviting, beckoning. If only I had brought my swimwear! It was hot enough for a swim, but I hadn't thought that far when I had packed my outfits. I gazed longingly, if only I had brought my swimwear!
      After we were a distance from the gathering, I decided to slip off my shoes and wiggle my toes into the welcoming wetness as the chill submerged my ankles. Memories from yesteryear returned afresh, I glided and splashed the water sending droplets skiing across the surface. It was fun to feel water beneath me again.
       After reliving past times, I tiptoed around sharp stones and rocks so my heels wouldn't bruise and stepped into my shoes once again. The sun was dropping a little lower with each passing minute, reflecting into the bubbling waters. I absorbed the scene around me, trees in the distance on both sides with the river in the center passing through, flowers and plants embedded in the rocks, wind slightly breezing by, it was a beautiful moment.
       I slipped my violin case off my shoulder, placing it atop the rocks. Unzipping my case, I withdrew my violin from its chamber and nuzzled it between my neck. With bow rosined and tightened, I began to play, my nerves unwinding. The music seemed to enhance the moment, it was sad but peaceful. It was like touching the sky for the first time.
       The end of the week, the end of Sukkot, packing up and leaving was sad, waving goodbye at friends, glancing behind me for the last time, but no... it was something much more.
     
       It was the end of a chapter in my life.


Thursday, September 29, 2016

Tattered: A Short Story Based on True Events


Transformation.

The word frightened me. Never in my whole life had I been so consumed with uncertainty, I was afraid. What would happen to me? What would I become?
I was practically handed over without any emotional attachment, my previous owner gave suggestions on how these strangers could use me.
My white Egyptian cotton surface would be hurled into a mop bucket, polishing and buffing floors. I sorely was dismayed. All because I was tattered in an unseen corner... I was imperfect and useless now, was this my destiny?
I had been so glorious! I had once glowed beneath the winter white comforter in the home of a prominent doctor, but now since I had been tattered, my integrity had been broken, I was ready to except my fate. I deserved nothing better, nothing beautiful could come out of this...
Yet despite my flaws, the strangers were insistent on bringing me home where I could be transformed by a young unknown artisan who could turn me into something interesting...  however even in this, I remained hesitant.
After I had been brought home and thoroughly washed by the seamstress, she laid me out on the dining room table and folded me up neatly, setting me aside in a basket for the day.
The next evening, the girl gingerly lifted me from the confinement and spread me across the wooden surface once again. I didn't know what she had in mind, but somehow I was beginning to trust her.
Her touch was tender and caring. She smoothed me down as she measured me inch by inch, marking me with a pencil lightly and etching out unreadable notes on my pure white surface. I was nervous, but I was okay, everything would be fine... but the horrifying truth lay before me in the grasp of the artisan...

Scissors.

Cold, lifeless stainless steel scissors, blades that could slash me into pieces until I became lint... I watched awestruck as pieces of fabric fell from the table... would anything be left of me?
Moments later I had been divided into 2 sections, with a remainder of another smaller segment, what was the plan? What could she make of 3 pieces of fabric? After I had been cut, she had set me aside a few days to gather some supplies. This is where my story unfolds.
Evening to evening I was pinned, stitched, and re-stitched again. She would sew, then take out, contemplate and take out some more. As days turned into weeks, our bonds were strengthening and a trust was beginning to develop between us. She knew my material, and I knew her guiding hands.
Day by day the fog of her strategy was becoming clear, and the mystery of her genius was beginning to be solved, it was going to be more wonderful than I could have ever imagined. A simple bed sheet seemed trivial compared to the workmanship of her design... I was to become a garment.
There was nothing truly elegant about my cut out, after all I was practically just a three piece gown, but the artisan had transformed me into something beautiful, a flowy elegant work of art!  She swelled with satisfaction, making me feel special and appreciated. My destiny was fulfilled, this was who I would be.
I was taken aback the evening when she took me upstairs into the sewing room, was there something wrong? Was I not yet completed? I would soon discover what she had in mind.

I found myself being stretched tightly across a wooden hoop, securing me down firmly. With my material sprawled atop a coffee table, the artisan sorted through a myriad of colorful floss; greens, pinks, blues, and others were neatly strung beside other coordinating threads.  I was immediately intrigued.
Fetching a small tin container that rattled with small metal objects inside, she afterwards drew me to herself and revealed a thin, sharp, metallic needle from the case; the eye staring at me coldly. Threading some floss through the needle, she licked her lips and positioned me closer to her so she could see the fine lines she had traced on my surface. I braced myself accordingly.
The needle pierced my smooth white material, the pain of knowing how many tiny holes would cover me made me cringe. But immediately following it a silky smooth floss replaced the hole with a colorful string, vibrant and alive. None would ever know that the colorful threads that swirled around me were swallowed within small pricks freckled across pure cotton. The artisan's design was more brilliant than I had ever imagined. And as the weeks passed by and our friendship grew, I was becoming more lovely than ever.
I was being transformed into a masterpiece.

And now here I am... completed. Wrapped closely around my artisan. She wears me about with pride and satisfaction. She has transformed me into the garment I am today. And if I had never ripped in the corner of the seam, I wouldn't have been here at all.
I have met various materials; wool, linen, (even cotton as myself), who come from various places, who had functioned as different things before being brought into the house of the seamstress. They fear the transformation process, claiming that their immediate state is the best there is... and if tattered, they would come to nothing. When they see me they are amazed, claiming me as the most prominent of what the artisan has made. I smile sadly, knowing that they too can be transformed into something astounding.

When I was a bed sheet, I had a happy life. I was pure white, flawless, protected underneath the comforter. I was owned by a doctor with beautiful home. What more could I ever want?
But when I was ripped and brought to house of my maker, I became something much more than a bed sheet. I am now radiant with color, I am wrapped around my maker throughout the day and stopped by crowds to examine her labor. I can feel her heart against me and her hands brush across my surface as they swing on each side. I am no longer hidden beneath a comforter, but outside in the sun! My life is an adventure, colorful and unique.

Just because your tattered, doesn't mean it's over for you.
Just take it from me.




Thursday, September 1, 2016

Sukkot Preparation, Español, y Lovely Lucille

    The fall feasts are approaching rapidly, the weather is changing, and the aroma of pumpkin spice lattes are nearly irresistible this time of season! In my wardrobe, the long neglected sweaters from last winter are beckoning to be worn, and scarfs of yesteryear are awaiting for the feasts as well as I am!
    I must confess that with all the business that is occurring in preparation for Sukkot, I may not be blogging until after Septiembre... so that is why I'm aiming at getting a post out today! We shall see!
     My progression in learning español has been steady, although I haven't been able to envelope into intense study like I had before Agosto. I've been singing en español, canciones such as 'Oceanos', y 'Vasijas Rotas: Sublime Gracia', and traditional/modern Spanish songs like this.
   Although recently, I've been reflecting on a very dear friend that passed away over a year ago last June, and her name was Lucy. Yes, I am talking of this little special lady right here.


She was such a dear, always having something to say, Wwwhhhaaaakkk Wwwhhhaaaakkk!
We miss her very much, but I must say that Annie misses her the most... she was Annie's darling, her sunshine, her smile on a rainy day...
After Lucy AKA Luvdee died, I composed a melody in memory of her waltzing of a character, the one and only special little red hen. I hope you enjoy this melody, and until I return, Shalom!


Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Mi Puebla! (My Puebla!)




Mexico has been the top theme of my learning this year, mainly through reading and research. Ever since exploring the roots of Classical Guitar (which had its origins Spain), I was compelled to learn more, not only of the instrument, but the people who were involved in creating such an astounding masterpiece as well. I didn't go very far in learning about España (Spain), the culture, and the music (although I share a deep appreciation for Spanish Music, flamenco style, which is my goal to learn), instead I chose Mexico since I'm studying Latin American Spanish and that the Spanish language in Spain can vary between that of the South Americas and Europe.
While studying Mexico, its terrains and landscapes, climates, flora, fauna, and the native peoples, the highlight of my continual study was the traditional dress of Mexico, mainly, the women's garments. Sparks of orange and red from glossy threads dazzled, with hues of greens, blues, and purples capturing me immediately. The colors were so diverting and inviting! And the embroidery was elaborate! From the moment I saw page upon page of these elegant gowns, I knew I had to make me one! But what was it called? What was the name of this dress that is sold all over Mexico and beyond? Thus I had embarked on a quest to discover the name of this priceless treasure... the Puebla Pheasant Dress.


 I began planning immediately on how I would make this, where I would buy the pattern, the fabric, the floss, the thread, everything. *We were blessed to receive a couple of solid-white Egyptian Cotton bed sheets from a lady we'd met, she explained that there was a couple of flaws in the corners of them, but examining them closely, the integrity was intact, to avoid these flaws, we could simple cut around them when we were ready. So the good news was that I had fabric!!! Yay!!! But... how much fabric did I need to make my gown? I was blessed to find an Authentic Traditional Mexican Dress Pattern (Puebla) online from a website called, 'The Mexican Dress'. It was reasonably priced so my mama purchased it for me (thanks mommy! <3), thus I could get started right away.
Unfortunately, I didn't take any pictures during the preparation process. Making the pattern, cutting it out, measuring, cutting fabric, pinning, measuring, sewing, taking out, sewing, trying on, taking out, etc. Nope, didn't think to shoot any of it, sorry... :(
But, after all the preparation, came one of the most exciting parts of all, designing the pattern! This is where I would unleash my imagination, setting loose my creativity! What wonders could I compose? Compose... musical composition perhaps? The idea fit perfectly! My classical guitar could be the center of my design... literally!
After designing my pattern, choosing my colors, and tracing the pattern on the fabric 600 hundred times, I was ready to begin stitching. It has taken me July and nearly half of August to complete, but so far it is coming along splendidly! Here is the design I created, and the colors that compliment the work I have started!



      The swirly branched designs are based on true Mexican embroidery patterns, so I did a twist and added my own little spice to the mix! La música clásica...


     






I am nearly finished embroidering the left side of the bodice, and it looks amazing!


So far, I have only done this much. I'll keep you posted on how it turns out! I'm hoping I'll finish it before Sukkot... but with so many unfinished projects for the feast I'm not sure if I can. But we shall see, no?  Anyway, I just wanted to share my latest needlework project, until next time,... hasta luego mi amigos! 
~Abigail

Saturday, August 13, 2016

I'm Back!!!


      

      ¡Hola, mi amigos!
I know it has been quite awhile since I've blogged, now as I recall about 5 years or so! But alas, mi padres (my parents) have granted me permission to begin blogging again. I have so much to share and catch you up on, and I am eager to enter the adventures of writing once again!
     Being born-again this year on Pesach, my relationship with Yahweh has grown more intimate over time. He has delivered me from so many areas, and He is continuing to reveal His love for me, and showing me different perspectives in life that I had never considered before. 
     It is my hope to share my journey in what Yahweh is teaching me from character to music, Mexican culture (Español), and much more!!!
Shabbat Shalom mi amigos, y hasta luego! Await until next time!
~Abigail