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phil3ai
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Name: Phil
Country: United States
State: California
Birthday: 9/10/1983
Gender: Male
Interests: Plotting revenge
Expertise: Ancient art of Bloodless Limb Removal
Message: message me
Member Since:
12/5/2002
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| Shane and Shane remain one of my favorite bands. They're such a huge inspiration to me in not only my musicality but my relationship with God. They push me to find that combination of talent, passion, and desire to bring Glory to our Creator.
A couple of hours ago, Flora (shout out!) hooked me up with two free tickets to their performance/concert or whatever you want to call it at Biola University.
Jake, Darren and I got front row seats! It was beyond awesome.
Jeremiah, a student from APU, opened for them. Although his song writing and vocals were good, his guitar didn't sound "professional." Not that his guitar playing was bad, but his guitar sounded dry. I mean, Shane's 814 was sitting right next to him. Could he not just pick it up? Sidenote: That percussionist behind him was OFF THE HOOK. I don't know if you can see, but that contraption had basically everything. And at times, he would play one hand on the cajon, one hand with the shaker, and one foot on the high-hat while simultaneously singing harmony. A-maz-ing.
Crazy Shane Everett. There's no note this guy can't hit. His range knows no bounds.
Both Shane's are so funny. Funniest impromptu comedy I've witnessed at a concert. By far. Just check out the look the drummer gave Everett. Priceless.
Shane Barnard uses Elixirs! Am I foolish to think that because we use the same strings we can both strum the same way?
At the end of the concert, Shane said something about merch. At first I didn't know what he was talking about. I just let out the complimentary "haha." Of course, stupid me... MERCHANDISE. Duh.
They also sold all of his cd's put into one. He called it the brick. FIFTY BUCKS. So cheap! I really wanted to go back in time and not buy all of his records and buy it here. Darren laughed at me because I had all of his albums including the Christmas one. What? Call me old-fashioned, but I still like to buy cd's.
Shane and Shane. What great musicians. What great ambassadors for Christ.
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| What have I been doing? These past couple weeks have been such a great time. It seems like every second and every breath, I fail to take a step back and give praise that this is all a blessing from God. I get too caught up in the daily grind that I tend to overlook that all this is given by him ... and is as easily taken away.
Now let's take a journey through the month of October through the eyes of Philip Cheung.
While all of the girls we hang out with decided to take a BBQ trip to Texas, we boys strolled our mighty guts to the lights and sounds of Las Vegas. We were upgraded to the celebrity suite. My, oh my, quite a sight.
Our suite was literally twice the size of Davey and Risa's apartment. AND WE HAD TWO OF THEM! Jake returned our suite that was across the way because the eight of us had no use for the other behemoth-sized room.
It was such a great opportunity to let our masculinity out and rampage the streets of Nevada. Sidenote: Never ever bet on football games with me. Surefire fail.
Candice and I have also been super psyched about getting our home ready. We're so grateful that we've been given this headstart in life. We're just putting the finishing touches on it and we are so excited! God has definitely been teaching us patience and compromise not only with the material world, but with each other. But boy, trust me when I say that Candice ain't holdin' nuttin' back when it comes to designing her home. (But she did let me choose this faucet! Gotta keep up with the Jones'!)
Couple Sundays ago, Rick and Connie invited us to share a meal at their place. It was a wonderful time catching up and reminiscing about the high school years. These are two of the most incredible people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Humble and knowledgeable, sympathetic and caring, fun and spontaneous, I couldn't have asked for better high school counselors.
October might as well be renamed to Fantasytober. At the heart of the fantasy football season and the start of the fantasy basketball season, my "bookmarks toolbar" has given into the world of statistics and heartbreak. I'm with Bill Simmons in that I have no idea why I do this every year when (1) I never win and (2) it gives me such frustration day in and day out. But you know what? I LOVE IT.
The end of October yields the return of the SGVAC Harvest Festival. I do say return because I remember back in the day (albeit, when I was an adolescent participator as opposed to a grownup volunteer) when this festival was the greatest thing on the church calendar. I don't know what happened, perhaps a loss of interest on my part or maybe a decline of effort on the church's (or maybe some combination of the two), but it just wasn't the type of event it was before. But this year ... oh man ... it was awesome. On the grandest scale.
There were so many booths, so many games, so many activities, and such a great response from the community, I was so proud to be apart of it.
I don't know if I was proud of Candice though. She conned Oscar into trading, by far, the coolest prize at the festival (a transforming ball) for five pieces of candy. Actually, who am I kidding? Candice tricked an 8 year old! FTW! It was a great month. Let's see if you can match, November.
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| Candice never ceases to amaze me. You'd think that fresh off of a vacation of deep-fried glee and glutton, she'd want to tell me all about how she feasted on a meal that Guy Fieri anointed as the Best Burger in Texas or how she conquered the gauntlet of golden oil that is the Texas State Fair. No. The moment Candice got home, she couldn't wait to ask me to pray for somebody.
I'm currently reading Crazy Love. It's a great book, coming from me (a man who absolutely detests sitting down and reading a book) that's a tremendous compliment and endorsement. The author, Francis Chan, reminds me that we don't need to be Christians by name. Nor by actions or deeds. We need to be Christians that love. He says in one of the earlier chapters that the label of Christian was given by people who noticed something different about the followers of Christ.
Candice was given the opportunity to share the news of Jesus Christ with somebody. Even though it was in an indirect fashion, it was such an encouragement to me. What had happened was a man was desperate for a certain book. He was about to be late for work so he couldn't wait in line any longer. Flustered and panicked, Candice and Risa offered to wait in line for him and get the book. Of course, as Californians four hours away from their flight home, they couldn't return the book to him later in the day so they offered for him to pick it up at a Pastor's church that they had spent the weekend with. She wanted me to pray that his experience at church (even if of the brief nature) the following Sunday would stir questions and ultimately a yearning for what Jesus is all about.
Candice is definitely somebody that embodies the exact mold of what Christ wants. Not somebody who hears and studies the Word and keeps it in, but lives a life of love that God has called us to.
"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' Matthew 22:36-38.
I'm always straying from the big picture. It's always, what am I going to eat for lunch? Which outfit am I going to wear for church? When am I going to pray for this situation in my own life? What songs am I going to lead for service? God calls us to go and make disciples. God calls us to use our lives for His Glory. Everything else is secondary. Being a good spouse, studying His Word in depth, building churches, it's all good and dandy but it is all auxiliary.
"You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons belive that - and shudder. You foolish man, do you want evidence that faith without deeds is useless?" James 2:19-20.
I'm always learning from Candice. She's the most incredible person I know. Always full of love, always joyous, always with her eyes on the prize. | | |
| I just went to Subway for lunch. I've never had a problem with them. Usually when I say no onions, they don't give me onions. Maybe today they were looking for a fight.
First they asked me if I would like it toasted. I clearly said, "no." He put it in the toaster anyway. Whatever, I can eat a hot sandwich.
Then the next lady on the assembly line asked me what I wanted on it. "Lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, peppercinis." I don't know if she didn't understand English (which probably was NOT the case because no less than 4 seconds prior, she asked me what I wanted on it) or if she had already given in to the monotony of her work, or if she blatantly ignored my request, but this girl took it upon herself to create her own sandwich at my expense. Lettuce. Tomatoes. Onions. Cucumbers. Green Peppers. Olives. Pickles. Now, at this point I rationed to myself that I can deal with the extra ingredients --- I don't know if my co-workers would appreciate my onion breath, but whatever, I can deal with it. BUT COME ON! Where are my peppercinis?! I had to raise my voice beyond the sneeze guard to demand something that I had already kindly asked to be included. Strike 2.
I figured by now, it would be more likely to find Sasquatch and a Chupacabra fighting on my front lawn than to get three consecutive Subway employees to turn the blind eye to my order, but low and behold... mayonnaise. I've never liked mayonnaise to begin with and ever since I found out that this gooey nonsense was as terribly unhealthy as a lollipop coated with ribfat, I've stopped ordering it. How is it that when I say "just mustard," the guy hears, "mayonnaise AND mustard." Bad. Straight up wretched service.
So with one scratch of the chin and a ponder in the sky, I paid for a sandwich that I didn't order and went on my way. I typically haven't been keeping up with new slang, but I believe that a properly delivered "fail" is in order. | | |
| I've had all these thoughts saved in my gmail inbox for the past 7 months, waiting for the most opportune time to take a few minutes away from work or psuedo-work to give this the time it deserves. Now I suppose is that time.
My grandfather passed away on February 8th, 2009. I wanted to gather myself before I wrote anything out of haste and bitter emotion. In some ways, I respected him the most out of anyone in my life but in other ways, he was more a stranger to me than that guy who leaves club promotions in my driver side window when I'm out at a restaurant. I had the privilege of writing his eulogy; and to be as a-matter-of-fact that I can, I learned more about him through that experience than I ever did begging him for red envelopes. And I'm not strictly referencing his factual life, but what kind of person he was growing up and what kind of person he was in the last days of his life. To even attempt to piece together a man's life into 500 words or less is worrisome enough, but upon taking the challenge, I was able to figure out that my grandfather told a greater love story than any director could ever dream of.
You see, my grandmother was heavily ill as she aged. Enough to a point that she, nor my grandfather could take care of themselves. Not after long, my parents moved them into our home. Living in a room next to our backyard, my grandfather emotionally cared for her to such a level that our physical assistance to her was second tier.
There were nights where she would wake at 2am and remember very negative moments in their lives and try to beat him with her cane. Through these episodes, still he loved her. There were nights where she would have difficulty doing anything from sleeping to remember who he was to finding her slippers and yet still, though slight or stellar, he cared for her. Even though he was a very weakened 90 year old man, he often tried to hike back to our house to find one of us for assistance. I knew what kind of toll it took for him to even get out of bed, nevertheless walk 50 feet and three steps to find help. This was a man of dedication and love.
My grandfather had major leg and knee problems. So much that the symptoms grew passed the lower extremities and affected his overall being. You could tell he wasn't doing so good. Yet he knew that my grandmother, albeit in better physical shape, wasn't able to handle the emotional state of loneliness. I saw him hold on to life just so that she could feel companionship.
As the both of them became more of a burden on my parents, they moved into a home where nurses and other bodies in scrubs would handle the around the clock care. Pretty soon, my grandmother passed. Her children thought it best to not tell my grandfather because they didn't know if he could take the news or not. Even though they never told him, we saw the heartache in him. I hope someday to know that same kind of bond to be able to discern whether my wife was troubled or not.
Less than two weeks after my grandmother had passed away, my grandfather let go. What type of strength and love does a man show when he can defy the physical limits and be the type of foundation that a wife needs? He knew she couldn't live her life alone, so he held on until the very moment she left so that she didn't have to. This, my friends, is love. | | |
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