This summer

You've got the battle wounds, sweet little soldier.  Soak up the salt of the ocean on those scars, and let the sea remind you that you're still Daddy's beautiful little girl.  The wind will pass on through, and the waves will make you dance with the sea gulls, and maybe with a sting ray or a brother or two.  Summertime has made it's way once again into your life and it's time to let it all heal.  There's nothing better than the innocent bliss of the wise ocean.   Here's a wave and here's a story, I'll throw you some words and a prayer and a story; there's a person behind all this healing.

God, our hearts, and the sea: three inexhaustibles.  No surfer in history has ever been heard to say: "Now I've had enough of waves."  No lover will ever say, "Now I've had enough of her."  And no saint will ever say, "Now I've had enough of God." -Peter Kreeft

~Esa Cita

The Call for Ayuda

I've heard it said (by a fantastic father) that saints have saints for friends.  The statement makes sense: St Francis Xavier and St. Ignatius,  St. Clare and St. Francis, St. Ambrose and St. Augustine; they all had each other, they all lent a helping hand to get the other into heaven.

There was a long-run ramification from their friendship.  They all had short-term thing-a-ma-bobbers that tickled their fancy at one point in their lives.  But, when it came to the real stuff, when it came to the current state of their soul, when it came to who they were and who they were called to become, it was that heavenly friendship that helped lead them home to eternal joy.

Perhaps Ignatius was annoyed by the crazy party-boy Xavier,
but shoot mayne, he loved the kid.

Maybe Ambrose wanted to punch Augustine in the face like he was Santa Clause,
but shoot mayne, he wanted that man in heaven.

We are social creatures with social tendencies and social desires.  That's why peer pressure is a big deal.  That's why the day when I can see that myself and another have befriended each other into the place that which our souls love will be one of the best days of my short time on this little earth.  To love another like myself, oh what a joy!

On that note, I would like to switch the subject matter of what I really wanted to say.

My friend, Ruth from The Itchy Scapular, has lots of words up her sleeve.  Combining words into a beautiful harmony of sass, love, and joy are her forte, and the long-run makes her happy.  She likes the long-run instead of the short-run; she's the long-run's biggest fan.

I am a fan of her long-term happiness.  I just like it a whole lot.  I also like practicing the art of combining vowels with consonants in the hopes of making dreams come true and laughs ring through.  Oh Itchy Scapular, where have you gone?

Write me some words, inspire me some more.  Give this world some of your fresh air to hoard.  (Just kidding, I'll share.  Not hoard.)

Saints have saints for friends.  Bloggers have bloggers for friends.  I want to be a saint and a blogger, won't you please help me out?

The journey to the road

I'm currently sitting at my parent's dining room table, surrounded by a (nearly completed) project that took me about a month and quite a few dollars to finish.  For the past hour, Pandora has been playing the perfect songs for me to listen to, and I'm asking Jesus for the strength and desire to return to Kentucky after such a nice time visiting friends, mission partners, and family.

In twenty-four hours, I'll be back in the land of excellent coffee-shops and conversation.  But for now, I'm celebrating Wegmans' pizza and college friendships, and I'm smiling at these two paragraphs from a G.K. Chesterton essay I found on a friend's coffee-table this evening.

A correspondent has written me an able and interesting letter in the matter of some allusions of mine to the subject of communal kitchens. He defends communal kitchens very lucidly from the standpoint of the calculating collectivist; but, like many of his school, he cannot apparently grasp that there is another test of the whole matter, with which such calculation has nothing at all to do. He knows it would be cheaper if a number of us ate at the same time, so as to use the same table. So it would. It would also be cheaper if a number of us slept at different times, so as to use the same pair of trousers. But the question is not how cheap are we buying a thing, but what are we buying? It is cheap to own a slave. And it is cheaper still to be a slave.

My correspondent also says that the habit of dining out in restaurants, etc., is growing. So, I believe, is the habit of committing suicide. I do not desire to connect the two facts together. It seems fairly clear that a man could not dine at a restaurant because he had just committed suicide; and it would be extreme, perhaps, to suggest that he commits suicide because he has just dined at a restaurant. But the two cases, when put side by side, are enough to indicate the falsity and poltroonery of this eternal modern argument from what is in fashion. The question for brave men is not whether a certain thing is increasing; the question is whether we are increasing it. I dine very often in restaurants because the nature of my trade makes it convenient: but if I thought that by dining in restaurants I was working for the creation of communal meals, I would never enter a restaurant again; I would carry bread and cheese in my pocket or eat chocolate out of automatic machines. For the personal element in some things is sacred. I heard Mr. Will Crooks put it perfectly the other day: "The most sacred thing is to be able to shut your own door."

Kind of a nerdy thing to giggle at, but I find this man's passionate usage of words quite charming and refreshing.

Back to laundry, packing up a car, and possibly sleeping. ;)

~Esa Cita

Cast away that despair produced by the realization of your weakness. It's true: financially you are a zero, and socially another zero, and another in virtues, and another in talents... But to the left of these zeros is Christ. And what an immeasurable figure it turns out to be! -St. Josemaria Escriva

Home Sweet Virginia

It's been twenty-four hours since I arrived at my parents' house in Virginia, and within this time I have:

-gone to Mass, prayed
-gotten coffee with a good friend
-done arts and crafts with a good friend
-colored with my brother
-did work with my brother
-told friends that I was in town
-ate my first family dinner in months

-went to a surprise birthday party, saw lots of old friends

-saw Lauren Murray ♥

It's been so great to be back. Tomorrow, my brother Ricky arrives from the Air Force Academy and the whole clan will be reunited finally!

~Esa Cita

A night for letters and travels

I sit here with my little pink laptop, signing a bunch of letters and listening to a movie in the background. Memories of a time long ago are coming back, and I am reminded of my imminent journey next week to my "hometown" of Northern Virginia.  It's been a while, and I do miss my ole' snobby-yet-familiar stomping grounds.  DC chillin'.  A year ago today, I was making plans to go to Boston, and today I made some to get back home.  Tomorrow, I will be in Nashville, listening to awesome music, and I won't have a care in the world.

Beer, water, coffee, pecan pie, guava, and Cuban crackers accompanied my real dinner tonight as I've been watching movies, reading letters, and gazing at old photos.  I'm digging the neat things that people collect during a short lifetime, and am realizing just how fast the time is passing these days.  Soon enough, I'll be celebrating Thanksgiving with a bunch of Cubans and I'll be surrounded by little people.

But for now, I'll wait...

As if I was waiting at a restaurant.

One time, my girl, Brooke Fraser, wrote a song called Love is Waiting. Maybe I should remember that in a special way this coming week.

~Esa Cita

Missing you

Dear Blog,

I've been missing you. I don't really have much more time that I will be on posting, but I wanted to share a little quote that was placed on my heart today.

[Christ] “intercedes for us, otherwise I should despair. My weaknesses are many and grave, many and grave indeed, but more abundant still is your medicine. We might have thought that your word was far distant from union with man, and so we might have despaired of ourselves, if this Word had not become flesh and dwelt among us.” -St. Augustine

That's what I think is marvelous.


~Esa Cita

Paternal Unit-Favorite Version

~Texting with my Dad~

Me: Who's picking me up from the airport?
Dada: Your favorite father deluxe.
Me: Excellent. Carry on, sir.
Dada: Outstanding.