Dear new parents,

Today is a day your life will change drastically. I can only imagine the long process of waiting, preparing, and anticipating this day to arrive. And now you have a beautiful little girl to call your own and be a fixture of joy and adoration in your home.

This has been a big step for you. It's not easy to counter a culture that doesn't easily accept or understand adoption, and for you to decide you want to take another's little girl as your own is commendable. You know there will be difficulties. The adjustment period will not only be hard on you but on her as well. Unlike other parents who grow their babies inside them for nine months before they come into the world, your little princess has not known of you until today. It is my hope that she who has known love and security in our care for the past year and few months will recognize the love and security you wish to give to her, and transfer her trust and affection accordingly. She has been much loved, and much doted upon, as I trust she will continue to be.

You, too, have not had the chance to grow accustomed to her from the very beginning. Neither of you yet know each other's habits, quirks, temperaments. She will learn quickly--maybe even faster than you learn about her--and I guarantee you, there will be new things for you to discover every day. The way she screams when she is excited, perhaps. Or the way she waves to herself and dances in the mirror. The way she pretends to refuse to eat another bite because she's testing your will. But you, too, will learn, gradually, and it will be up to you to not be afraid of all those new things which you may not yet know.

Dear parents, let her be your joy, just as she has been ours for these many months. Be gentle with her, for she is a gentle, sweet spirit. She will in turn, reward you with her confidence and love as she has given us, perhaps reaching out to hold your hand from the backseat of the car, or crawling up from her nap to give you kisses. Cherish each moment dearly, in light of the early milestones that you have missed--the ones we had the privilege to witness: first tooth, first steps, first babblings. You are now yet experiencing with her the biggest milestone of her young life--being together with a forever family. And oh, let it be for forever.

And so, our prayers and thoughts of blessing go with you as you make your new life together. I will think of her when I wipe the little knee-high hand prints off the mirror, imprints like those made indelibly in our hearts--unmistakably hers. We have treasured the memories, held her dear.

Thank you, thank your little princess, thank God for this unspeakable gift.

With love,

S

new home, new blessings

Our landlady likes Ikea (okay, we do too).

It's been over a month now that we've moved into our new home. It's taken me this long to write about it because 1) it took forever to unpack and 2) I am very lazy about getting pictures to illustrate. But I do want to share with you the blessing that God has given us at this new place.

We didn't have much time (or energy) for apartment searching, but we had hoped we would have a place set by April. April came and went, however, and still no apartment. Some places we inquired into fell through, but B kept looking for online listings. He came across this one (I don't know why it's still up), among others, and we went to look at it after church one day. After comparing with different ones we'd seen, we decided to make an offer to rent. The lady was very accommodating (actually, she agreed to give us the month of May without cost) and soon, before the first week of May was over, we had the keys in our hands.

Later we found out that a brother from our church also lives in the same building. After mentioning it to him, he offered us his parking space to use (since he doesn't have a car). This is a HUGE blessing since it saves us a good fraction of expenses to not have to pay a monthly parking space rental fee!

B and I were stressed about our upcoming move. We didn't know how it would work to haul all our stuff down 5 flights of stairs, or if we had enough friends with vehicle space to help, or how many friends could actually come and help. But the day of our move, God continued to bless us by sending reinforcements when others suddenly couldn't make it, and one of them even brought a small SUV that carried a good portion of our boxes over! And while it rained pretty steadily in the morning, we prayed for it to stop for our move, and it did--just at the right times for the guys to load up our stuff in the vehicles and to unload at the new building.

Bookshelf full of a portion of B's notes

B's study (with my sticky notes of verses)

Living here has been, as my friend C likes to say, "nice times ten." Although we still dealt with broken or unusable appliances (we were in laundry limbo for a few weeks and had to borrow friends' washing machines), there are a lot of things I don't miss about our old apartment (and hence am grateful for their absence in our new one). No more springtails eating away the grout between the vintage counter tiles in the kitchen. (If you don't know what a springtail is, be warned before you look them up: although they are tiny, they look kind of scary in close-up pics). Better yet, no tiles on the kitchen counter at all. No more walking past decades-old peeling paint in the stairwell or ignoring the cracks and chips perpetuating the apartment. No more feeling beaten by the unconquerable dust and grime that came with living next to the oil refinery. No more being confined to one bedroom for the whole evening where the only working AC unit is.

I know, I make it sound like it was an awful place, don't I? But actually it was a blessing in itself. I'd been asked several times what I'd miss about the old apartment, and at first it was hard to say. But I know I DO miss a few things:

1) Being on the top floor, having complete access to the roof to sun-dry freshly laundered bedding (it would only take a couple hours of good sunlight!)

2) The space. We had tons of it. We started our Friendsgiving tradition there with a big group of classmates who were comfortably accommodated in our large living room. I could stuff random junk into a far-away drawer and forget about it until I needed it again. Now our stuff battles each other for prime real-estate in our much smaller apartment. I also had my own work-out space, which doubled as our guestroom.

3) Being in a quiet, old-timey neighborhood. Many of the residents in our former place had lived there for at least two generations. One grandma especially befriended us and brought us traditional food for the winter solstice. It's a different feel now that we live in the city.

4) The morning market down the street. Even though I never learned enough Taiwanese to bargain, I learned to look for my preferred vendors and expect how much to pay for what I wanted. Now that we're in the city, it's been hard to find a suitable equivalent that's both inexpensive and convenient.

5) When all's said and done, it was our first home we made together.

guest bed

B and I are excited to be starting this new chapter of our lives in another new environment. It's going to be a challenge to make this apartment the most space-efficient (especially after baby comes!), but we are definitely grateful for the clean, cozy feel we get to have here, even if we are truly living the "city life" now.

it happens

In the event you find yourself in a foreign country, accosted in your car by a belligerent man spouting off dangerous but unintelligible language and threatening to beat you (with your unborn child) with his scooter helmet because you accidentally cut him off in a hasty turn into a parking lot, do you:

A. Stay in your car with doors locked until the situation somehow clears

B. Speak with him in English

C. Leave car running and crack the windows slightly, then walk to the front of the car so that front-view driving recording device can record the whole exchange

D. Call the Foreign Affairs Police

E. Calmly apologize, then act as if going about your regular business until the workers at the social services building (where you parked) come out and apologize twenty billion times for you until he goes away. Go home and investigate on taser buying options in your country of residence.



Yup, this happened today while I was driving a social worker to take a TXE baby to visit her birth mom. Guess how it played out? I think the worst thing about it was that the poor baby was terribly unsettled afterwards and had an unhappy visit with her family.

The beginning of an end, and new beginnings

It's about time I wrote about our news.

Most of you have already heard -- from us or via social media, likely. But there's more to tell! I have not one, not two, but THREE pieces of news to share with you!

ONE

There's a bun in the oven--or rather, a bao zi in the steamer ... B and I are having a baby!

Baby Chen is due in early/mid October. So far I haven't had any morning sickness but have battled about 2.75 immobilizing colds/infections along with being extremely tired. Also some back pain has flared up from a previous injury. But things are on the upswing now (thanks to rest, B's care, and the chiropractor), and they say (as I hope) second trimester will be better!

TWO

First, some back story:
This school year has been one of the roughest teaching years so far. Nearly every day I went home with feelings of discouragement and defeat for the first half of the year. I wrestled with different things: building something logical and sequential out of non-existent unit plans, making lessons meaningful for students who didn't care, differing viewpoints from those outside the music department with those within, and rowdy, disrespectful middle schoolers. By second semester things started looking up--God graciously gave me the inspiration, strength, and resources I needed to make great gains and start owning my classes in a way I'd never experienced before. Teaching became rewarding.

A few months ago my colleague (the other music teacher) confided in me that she had decided to leave at the end of the year. At the time we had not made news of "bao zi" public, and I was still debating whether or not to continue teaching with baby on the way. Knowing this changed things a little--I found that if I wanted, I could choose the classes I taught in the next year, and fulfill my hopes of teaching the lower elementary grades.

It was a tough decision. But in the end, although I felt it was hard to give up something that had become dear, B and I knew that I will need to be more fully available when the time comes and that there will be something greater to receive in turn, and love. God may lead me to go back to the classroom someday, but right now I'm just taking it one step at a time.

Just the other day as my fifth graders were playing an Orff arrangement I learned at a workshop, I heard two comments coming out of my students' mouths that went straight to my heart and warmed it over:
"We sound good!" (they were actually listening!)
And when it was over, "Let's do it again!"
It was a gift to hear them say that--a gift of gratification that I can close this chapter in my life knowing that I did at least something right.
 

THREE

In the past I've written bits about my experiences at Taiwan Xi En, formerly known as His Hands. I've had high regard for this ministry ever since I heard about it, not just because of the adorable babies but because their mission is to reach out to some of the most stigmatized and shunned individuals and magnify God's glory. So, when the director of the ministry asked me casually one night at Bible study, "What are you doing next year? We have an opening for an assistant." My eyes lit up and my heart jumped inside. What? Work for Taiwan Xi En? Pick me!

As admin at TXE worked to put job details together, several weeks passed before I heard anything more about the position, and I had no idea how possible it would be with the job requirements and our upcoming lifestyle change, so I put it aside in a corner of my heart. A few weeks ago they asked me to go for an interview, and that very day they offered me the position. I was so excited to say yes but I made myself wait a few days to make sure it wasn't on an emotional impulse.

Even so, it's still taken a little while for it all to sink in--leaving my work at MAK and some self-doubt for the new job has filled most of my thoughts, but the truth is, God brought everything together just in our time of need. I've been hesitant about completely stopping work because honestly I'm afraid of going a little crazy with a newborn by myself in a new neighborhood (we're planning to move apartments in June) with B guaranteed to be gone for the better part of every day. But I also knew I couldn't commit to teaching with all the time and energy that it demands of me (even part-time). I know so many women out there do it all the time and I deeply admire them, but even so, I am doubtful about my own abilities/what I can handle. The way He times everything is perfect. I made the decision not to re-sign with MAK, and then God gently opened another door for me to walk through. The position at TXE will be just the right kind of flexible and the icing on the cake is that this is a ministry that our family loves and supports with all our hearts. I always catch a glimpse of God when I go there, and now I have this privilege to play a small part in the work He is doing!


So this is the beginning of an end, but also the start of new and exciting adventures. Of course it's not always going to be smooth sailing but we are looking forward to the lessons God is wanting to teach us.

Sometimes it can be quite thrilling.

noteworthies

Notable links from around the web:

Ten Thousand Things We Can't See: this was a prescient reminder to hie me back to the Psalms as quickly as possible, every day. No matter what I'm facing, there is always something there to speak to my heart and remind me who my God is.



Why our kids need time alone: So many truths resonated with me in this excellent article. While I don't have memories traipsing in the woods by myself (I was too afraid of ticks and Lyme's disease), there are times in my childhood that I look back fondly upon where I was allowed unsupervised play with my friends. Little do we know how needed (and vital) this is and how much we've lost in our mad scramble for security and safety. Some quotes:

"It is perhaps natural that trust in general has eroded, and that parents have sought to control more closely what they can—most of all, their children."

"Practicing psychologists have written (in this magazine and others) about the unique identity crisis this generation faces—a fear of growing up and, in the words of Brooke Donatone, a New York–based therapist, an inability “to think for themselves.”

"We can no more create the perfect environment for our children than we can create perfect children. To believe otherwise is a delusion, and a harmful one; remind yourself of that every time the panic rises."

On the current political situation in Taiwan:
Things are a bit dicey, and it's not easily explained for those who don't read Chinese (like me). But here is a good (relatively short) BBC article on what is happening, and here is a longer, slightly more detailed blog about the protesting student movement. The political air is charged and many thoughts and opinions are held--the most important thing for us to do is pray that Taiwan will be unified and that God will raise up leaders who are honest and unafraid to walk in justice!

International Orchid Show

A couple weeks ago I heard about the Taiwan International Orchid Show happening in a city nearby and I *begged* B to take me. After months of stumbling around in a haze of bad air pollution, I was dying to lay my eyes on nature-wrought beauty. We ended up going the last weekend it was open, along with thousands of others, walking our legs off the entire day. But it was so worth it.

Unfortunately we forgot our camera at home in a confused rush to get to the train station on time. But when we got there we looked around at all the ASIANS taking photos EVERYWHERE that we decided it was probably for the better. We witnessed visitors trying so hard to get a good shot that they weren't even looking at the flowers themselves.

Taking the train was probably the best decision ever. I was enthralled by the picturesque scenes rolling by my window; each montage bringing fresh new surprises. When we took our lunch on the train I felt like we were having a picnic. Groves and thickets, vegetables cropland--corn, leafy greens, rice paddies. Mango trees and fish ponds, a blue and green river--green from some kind of plant--maybe watercress.

The romance was enhanced rather than detracted by the old, dilapidated buildings left abandoned since bygone eras of railway history. The oldest and most decrepit of which inspired a sense of mystery and magical melancholy--all but dead and brown with rotting, fallen beams and hidden stories of lives long buried.

A pristine white egret in a vibrant green field, docile brown cows standing in a patch of yellow grass, an old banyan tree standing tall and strong over a crumbling brick wall as if loftily saying, "Let's see who stands the longest." A burst of fiery fuchsia blossoms amid a garden of green, a small canal of water shaded on both sides by rounded trees, thick with green.

The poetry followed us to the festival itself, and although less pastoral and organic, the show was nonetheless dazzling. It was truly amazing to see such a grand event dedicated to just one kind of flower--and how many different species of that one flower there were! Orchids flat, frilled, tendriled, cupped; orchids spotted, striped, blushed, solid; orchids orange, green, gold, magenta, and every shade of purple -- as well as ruby red ones, before unseen, in the "New Breeds" section. My favorite was the orchid clouds and golden jungle, where orchids, massed together, hung upside down to greet and delight admiring eyes.

B and I came home physically tired but aesthetically satisfied. I never really realized how my soul craves beauty until I moved to an urban jungle. I know it still exists in different forms around me, but I have to be more vigilant in looking for it. From now on I want to go about with my eyes wide open in order to see it right in front of me.

I looked for some pictures around the web for you from the show. Enjoy!

 

 

Image from Taipei Times

noteworthies

Happy Chinese New Year! Just came back from a lovely trip to the east coast to visit Taroko Gorge with some friends! We rented scooters and rode the path up the river into the mountains. The crystal clear blue water and the rich green, jade-like cliffs were breathtaking.

Maybe I will do another post later about the trip and our CNY dinner. In the meanwhile, here are a few links I've come across lately that are worth one's time:

• The questions we should be asking instead

• I wouldn't consider myself a world traveler, but I could relate to some of these 20 things learned from traveling the world, especially the following:

#1) Most of the world's people are friendly and decent.
Taiwan is one of the top countries that welcomes foreigners with open arms.

#2) Most places are as safe (or safer) than home.
Every time I hear news from the U.S, it seems like it's getting more and more crazy out there.

#3) Most people don't know (or care) what America is doing.
Yeup. Most people, except Taiwan, which cares about (and wants to adopt) all the wrong things...(like bad theology)

#4) You can travel long-term for the price of rent and a round of drinks back home.
Not that I know much about rent and rounds of drinks in the U.S, but our years in Taiwan will cost only a fraction of what it would back home and keep us debt-free when B finishes med school (a direct answer to prayer).

#9) 'Travelers' and 'Tourists' are different.
I want to be a traveler and engage the culture. 

#12) Don't bank on paradise.
Too true.

and
#15) Long-term happiness is a pretty complicated emergent property that has little to do with money.
Little to do with money and a LOT to do with God.

 I think I'm beginning to experience #16, too... ("When you challenge a person's assumptions it can really piss them off.")

• One teacher's proactive strategy after Columbine to ensure all students feel loved and safe.

number 4s family dinner

We are blessed to be able to say it feels like we have multiple families here. Church family, friends family, relatives family, and B's "big-little" family from the current med school classes. In Taiwan, there is an academic tradition of assigning roster numbers to students each class. Based on your roster number, you have a corresponding "big" or "little" sibling in each class above and below you. The established "big-little" sibling system is something we appreciate very much about being in school in Taiwan--it provides a place to learn the ins and outs of the process all have in common, and gives opportunities for mentoring and being mentored.

 

We are so grateful for this group of people (I call it the "number family," roughly translated from Chinese and brought to you by the number 4). God provided us with a number family made up of mostly American-born or raised Taiwanese students AND students who married early (or are close to being married). This year after our family dinners I've always come away marveling at how perfectly God provides for us -- people who understand cross-cultural challenges and the benefits of getting married early. We can look to our "siblings" for advice; not just about academic or clinical questions but also about family things like when is the best time to have kids during med school. I have learned a lot from them, even though I'm not 內行 (of their field). Two couples are having or had a baby this year so I'm taking notes for the future and also admiring them from a distance (med school + baby = crazy). They are a warm, welcoming, fun group of people and I couldn't have imagined a better cohort than what God designed. God has truly been faithful to us!

4th year 學長's little baby (and us)
(P.S. I am noticing that the lighting contrasts in this pic makes our noses look huge!)

All the number 4s

With the SOs (and babies)

the beauty and the terror

On the road, an old woman clutches a bunch of floral branches as she scooters by. Such a simple, ordinary act speaks loudly of a love for beauty that would bag it and carefully bring it home.

We all need the aesthetic in our life. We are betrayed in our unending desire for pretty things: the beautiful, the pleasant, the elegant. But God is the Creator, the Inspiration--He is the Beauty. I can see Him in the little sparrows that visit the back neighbor's vacant porch. In the sunlight hitting the pastel hues of our apartment blocks when I sit in our parking space in the mornings.

Then there is a certain terror--it lies in the undiscovered, unfamiliar realms. It is in the old man who shuffles along, lifting his cap to bow in acknowledgment to the gods of the temple he passes by. He wouldn't care to step in their territory, but fearful of incurring their wrath, he watches his step and minds them. So he nods to every deity he passes, and whether or not they acknowledge his existence, he will theirs--just in case.

The heartbreaking nature of it is that all of us, we are blind in our fear of what we don't know. Jesus said to only fear Him who has power to condemn us to hell. Do we not know Him? The beauty is that we can know Him, and in our knowledge, be fearless of all lesser unknowns. Do we know His awe-inspiring, holy Beauty? And will we proclaim Him that others too may know?

2013 lookback

Somewhere in my mind, it sounded like a good idea to try to write a post titled "what 24 taught me." But when it really came down to it, I just had to laugh at myself for thinking that I have fully learned any of these things and that I am now a master at anything. I like what Kelle says in her birthday post: you're always still learning.

If I could mark a theme for this year, though, in spite of the lessons left partially learned, I would simply title it "Opening," in reference to the work God is doing in my own heart. There is freedom to be found in the opening up oneself to others that is otherwise unknown in the heart of one that remains closed. It applies to people I barely knew, people I used to know, and people I don't yet know.

Along those lines, had a lovely year connecting and reconnecting with people we are privileged to cross paths with or walk alongside.

The best and newest addition to the family this year!

Breakfast Club

Tainan day trip

DC tour

 

New friends on exchange from Germany and Denmark

Although 2014 seems unclear with manifold uncertainties, I am trusting Him who always has and always will provide.

Praise, my soul, the King of heaven, 

To His feet thy tribute bring;  

Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,  

Evermore His praises sing;   

Alleluia! Alleluia!  Praise the everlasting King.    

Frail as summer’s flower we flourish; 

Blows the wind and it is gone; 

But, while mortals rise and perish, 

God endures unchanging on; 

Alleluia! Alleluia! Praise the high Eternal One.

Angels in the height, adore Him;  

Ye behold Him face to face;  

Saints triumphant, bow before Him, 

Gathered in from every race; 

Alleluia! Alleluia! Praise with us the God of grace.
 

Bless the Lord, O my soul 

And all within me, praise Him!

Bless the Lord, O my soul! 

Redeemed by His grace, 

In the Savior’s embrace, 

My soul will bless His name!

 

 

(belated) Thanksgiving post

So I know I'm late to the Thanksgiving blog party. This is partly because we started celebrating a week before the holiday and partly because by the time the actual day rolled around we were so busy with guests visiting from out-of-country that I almost forgot all about it.

Almost, but not quite.

Friendsgiving #1 with med school classmates

Friendsgiving #2 with our mentor couple and med school friends

 (not pictured: MAK's School-wide Thanksgiving Feast)

This year I've decided that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. As much as it is a sentimental holiday, it's not nearly as fraught with emotional nostalgia as Christmas can be. Thanksgiving is all about gathering with loved ones over meal and giving thanks. That's it. It's not nearly as overwrought of a holiday as Christmas is, with all its trappings and trimmings. (Don't get me wrong. As complicated as my relationship with Christmas is, I do love it taken in its pure form... Perhaps I will appreciate Christmas more one day when I'm not in charge of putting on a Christmas concert every year.) Thanksgiving is an act of worship to the generous Giver of all Good--as we fill our stomachs, we feel our hearts and souls fill with the goodness and grace of God Himself.

All that to say, there are so many things I am thankful for this past year. First and foremost, I am thankful for the opportunity to be here in Taiwan. I am thankful for being in Taiwan. Coming from where I was several months ago, this says a lot. I was struggling with depression and paralyzing discouragement as to my purpose and place in being here. I was fighting wanting to stay in America with my family and friends. Through it all God has been unfolding an awe-inspiring Master plan that I still don't understand quite yet, but I know it's pretty big and it fits me just right. All I know now is that the little pieces He has given me have been like shining tokens indicating another step in the right direction:

1. Life Transformation Group: My accountability group with two amazing sisters. We read through the Bible together, share our struggles and victories, and pray with each other. What I appreciate most about these sisters is that even though we are all in different stages of our walk with God, we can all encourage and walk with each other in our journey together. It is through our meetings that God taught me the discipline of listening prayer, which became the turning point of my depression.
2. Redemptive Gifts: We went through the characteristics of the different redemptive gifts in a couple staff meetings at school. God made it very clear the gifting He has given me and prompted me to delve deeper...there's still a lot I have to grow in, but I am so thankful for the crack in the door God opened for me to slowly inch through.
3. Mentor couple friends: An American missionary couple has joined us at our church. The husband lectures for KMU's dentistry school and the wife is a teacher, so we find several things in common. They have been wonderful friends and mentors to us as they share their lives and experiences with us, knowing especially how to relate to us in our current life stage. 
4. Experiencing community in a new way: Working at MAK gives me a taste of a real sense of supportive, life-giving community. Being able to be part of celebrations, worship circles, and testimony nights have been good for my heart, as well as taking the time to share life together. It gives me a real sense of hope for restoration where once there has been brokenness.
5. Taiwan Xi En: Precious babies. As helpless as they are, they bring such a heart-and-soul restoration and rejuvenation whenever I spend time with them.
6. God at work: Through various opportunities, B and I have had the chance to be a small part of God working in the lives and hearts of people we've been privileged to come to know. While Taiwan is very dark and spiritually bound, the Spirit still moves and breathes in and through us, and I'm beginning to see that even though it takes much time and patience for His labors to come to full fruition, it is such a joy and honor to join Him in part of that labor.
7. Living cross-culturally: Sometimes hearing about happenings back in the States remind me that living abroad has its good points. (Ex: I forgot all about Black Friday until someone's FB status reminded me why I forgot about it. How can we be truly thankful for what we have one day and then recklessly indulge in uninhibited consumerism the next?) Learning about national and global issues (social, spiritual, moral) is different when one lives overseas. There's just a different perspective that comes from being on the outside. I'm beginning to appreciate that now.

In addition, I am super thankful for the new addition to our family, my beautiful and smart niece! She brings me so much joy and happiness even if I can only look at photos and watch videos of her latest antics. Still, she smiles at me when we video chat, so I am happy!

her face!

These are the top things I am thankful for this year! I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving where God has shown you His blessings abundantly overflowing to you all! <3

E's stories

E is my cello student in third grade. It all started when he went off on a long story about something that happened in his (very full) life (he's lived in three or four very different countries already), like how he broke his shin or something. Now he can't wait to tell me a story every time we finish our lesson for the day, and he asks if I want to hear a "real" or a "fake" one. These are two of the "fake"stories, recorded from my memory to the best of my ability (I've taken the liberty to title them myself)...

1. Music solves all conflicts
"Once upon a time there was a group of hamsters, and they all played instruments, like cello, and violin, and flute, and saxophone. Two of the hamsters, the one who played violin and the one that played cello, were brother and sister. One day they were all playing music, and suddenly they saw a cat. The hamsters ran away but then they ran into the leader of the cats, and then they were all surrounded by cats. The leader cat had some hamsters in his mouth! The hamster that played the cello used the strings from his cello to attack the cat and let the cat open his mouth and let all the hamsters free. Then the cats decided they wanted to play instruments, too, so they all played music together."


2. Playing music cooler than any other job
"So there were these cats. They had a band, with instruments like...violin, cello, drums, guitar...anyway, one day they were playing, and they saw another cat in a tree nearby. They asked the cat to come join them and he said "no." But the cat that played the cello said, "you have to come and play this cello, I'm leaving." So the cat in the tree came down and played the cello, and he really liked it, so he stayed. They played music together and lived happily ever after."
"What happened to the one who gave up the cello?" I asked.
'Well, he left because he really didn't like it. He got an office job."

Supreme Hero

From Richard Foster's "Celebration of Discipline" (the chapter on confession):

Jesus knew that by His vicarious suffering He could actually absorb all the evil of humanity and so heal it, forgive it, redeem it.

This is why Jesus refused the customary painkiller when it was offered Him. He wanted to be completely alert for this greatest work of redemption. In a deep and mysterious way He was preparing to take on the collective sin of the human race. Since Jesus lives in the eternal now, this work was not just for those around Him, but He took in all the violence, all the fear, all the sin of all the past, all the present, and all the future. This was His highest and most holy work, the work that makes confession and the forgiveness of sins possible.

Some seem to think that when Jesus shouted 'My God, my God, why has Thou forsaken Me?' it was a moment of weakness (Mark 15:34). Not at all. This was His moment of greatest triumph. Jesus, who had walked in constant communion with the Father, now became so totally identified with humankind that He was the actual embodiment of sin. As Paul writes, 'He made Him to be sin who knew no sin' (2 Cor. 5:21). Jesus succeeded in taking into Himself all the dark powers of this present evil age and defeated every one of them by the light of His presence. He accomplished such a total identification with the sin of the race that He experienced the abandonment of God. Only in that way could He redeem sin. It was indeed His moment of greatest triumph.

Having accomplished this greatest of all His works, Jesus then took refreshment. 'It is finished,' He announced. That is, this great work of redemption was completed. He could feel the last dregs of the misery of humankind flow through Him and into the care of the Father. The last twinges of evil, hostility, anger, and fear drained out of Him, and He was able to turn again into the light of God's presence. 'It is finished.' The task is complete. Soon after, He was free to give up His spirit to the Father.

 When I read this this morning, all I could say was wow. Wow. Amazing. In light of the latest superhero movie I watched last night, the imagery is especially penetrating. We all love a good Righteousness vs. Evil story, latent with tension and conflict but with Virtue, a little battle-scarred and war-weary, emerging triumphant in the end. And yet superhero movies always fall short: evil is never fully destroyed, and even heroes have their weaknesses. How wonderful it is to find the final resolution here in the pages of Scripture, pointing right through to the last Amen in Revelations that Jesus is the One and Only who has Overcome, who destroyed evil by actually taking it into Himself and conquering all. What a great mystery hidden in the heart of God! Jesus IS the SUPREME HERO because His work is finished, once and for all. Though evil still crawls to skirmish with Righteousness, and though Satan heaves his final shuddering breaths to overthrow what remains of his dominion, the final Victory and the everlasting Yes is already set in motion.

Jesus wins. Love conquers all. Stunning.

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain,
to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might
and honor and glory and blessing!”

Rev. 5:12

commute

The highway lends itself to its name--suspended high above the slow crawl of street traffic, I see the setting sun cast its glow across the cityscape as I make my way home. I check the car's clock, but I already know what time it is -- it's the golden hour: the magical hour when the soft fading light draws out otherwise unperceived shades and hues, making any subject come alive.


My eyes narrow to focus, trying to take it all in. The sun is setting in a sea of concrete and steel--buildings; buildings upon buildings. Smokestacks puff, neighbor to apartment blocks and high-rises in various states of construction and disrepair. Shacks perched upon warehouses, both manufactured from the same metal of shipping containers. The scene takes me back (or forward) to movies on post-21st century times: overcrowded, overbuilt, overpopulated.


The bend shifts on the overpass and in front of me I see the waves that lap into this mechanical ocean--vehicles lined up in streaming floods, each a pod encasing an individual, each individual as a drop, drop upon drop to expand the swelling masses. These are the people that fill the buildings I drive by each day.

My picture from this hour could be from anywhere -- any densely populated city outside of the pristine prestige of the West. But it could even be from a future America, one of these days.


Each day the stream trickles into rivers, rivers into oceans. People on routine, people with business, people with somewhere to go, something to do, someone to be. What is it all for? The futility of human existence apart from God pulls at me like a haunted dream.

Back on the ground, I wait at an intersection with a rusty red Daihatsu, its large and minute parts rattling with every rotation of the engine. Beside me, a shiny white new Benz impatiently creeps forward, willing the light to turn green. The juxtaposition is discordant. Many would say the white car far outweighs the red in worth. But in the end, in golden hour's glow, I see it's all the same.





Last week I was again on the highway on the eve of super typhoon Usagi. In the near distance I spied some shiny objects floating at the same level as the thoroughfare; about 25-30 stories high. Closer inspection revealed them to be balloons: bright, shiny, festive red. They did not appear to be attached to anything--yet free as they were, they remained suspended in the still, heavy air. Caught in the atmosphere too dense for upwards travel, they smothered.

Daily pressures, confused plans, and distracting spiritual powers can envelope and paralyze. One day a storm will come of supernatural proportions, and all that is unclear or untrue will be laid bare. Until then I ask for unfettered purpose that will keep my direction continuing upwards... into the life-giving glow of the golden Sun.

Wake up, wake up, the sun cannot wait for long
Reach out, reach out before it fades away
You will find the warmth when you surrender
Smile into the fear and let it play

You wanna run away, run away
And you say that it can't be so
You wanna look away, look away
But you stay 'cause it's all so close
When you stand up and hold out your hand
In the face what I don't understand
My reason to be brave

Brave||Josh Groban

You make it beautiful

"We are family here."

These are words my friend spoke as we gathered in her home--they were there to welcome us back to the island, and we were grateful for the warm hospitality that greeted us. In a circle of friends to find little inhibition and no need for adhering to politeness or manners, there was a glimpse of home-away-from-home: a place to rest and feel safe.

"It is a sacrifice."

These were words spoken of our return. It was hard to come back this time. We were tearing ourselves away from familiar comforts, family ties, our new baby niece, close friendships. Nearly overwhelmed with a sense of loss (and perhaps lost-ness), I wondered what was worth it all and clung to the memories we had made with our friends made here.

He fills the empty places.


There is no grime that He cannot wash clean; there is no brokenness that He cannot heal; there is no ugliness that He cannot transform to beauty. I know this because I see it in the lives of my brothers and sisters; I know because this, too, has been my life.


A group of us gathered in a home the other night to hear testimony of God's pursuing love, covenant faithfulness, and transforming power. The night felt raw and tears were shed and I wondered what it is about God that makes us cry -- are these tears of joy or of longing?

There are many things that I fear for the future, but it all comes down to a lack of faith in a faithful God. My heart is weak and my knees wobbly but one by one I pray to take back the Truths for all the lies I have bought. As He lifts the scales from my eyes, I will see the dead bones take on life, and it will not be a sacrifice to be here, but a privilege.

It is a privilege.

Hold on to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons, they fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home
"Home," Phillip Phillips

a long journey

Photo Credit*

 From where I sit at the window, the broken, weather-beaten corrugated tin over our neighbor's porch flaps in the hot summer breeze. There is a sad melancholy to it. Snapshots of decay and ruin surround me here, affront my senses wherever I go. There is a desolation in my heart. Here there is little assurance that this is the good life; instead all is struggle--buildings struggle against disrepair, cars struggle against rust, atmosphere struggles against dust and smog. Even human existence is a struggle. People struggle to survive, to get ahead, to win, or at least look like it. To have "enough." And the eternal tragedy is that there is never enough. It is never enough.

The bleakness within is a raw and palpable sense that this is not my home. But isn't this an abiding truth? That we are actually sojourners far from home, and Jesus is the One Who has come to find us, and then take us Home one day? Perhaps until now the reality has never been clearer to me.

The challenge to me is this: to take the broken bread, the cup, and give thanks.

“Something always comes to fill the empty places. And when I give thanks for the seemingly microscopic, I make a place for God to grow within me. This, this, makes me full, and I ‘magnify Him with thanksgiving,’ and God enters the world. What will a life magnify? The world’s stress cracks, the grubbiness of a day, all that is wholly wrong and terribly busted? Or God? Never is God’s omnipotence and omniscience diminutive. God is not in need of magnifying by us so small, but the reverse. It’s our lives that are little and we have falsely inflated self, and in thanks we decrease and the world returns right. I say thanks and I swell with Him, and I swell the world and He stirs me, joy all afoot.”
--Ann Voskamp, "One Thousand Gifts"

  I need to know that God is here. God has gifted all these to me and more, and He Himself is more than Enough.

“...He takes the empty hands and draws me close to the thrum of Love. You may suffer loss but in Me is anything ever lost, really? Isn’t everything that belongs to Christ also yours? Do I not own the cattle on a thousand hills; everything? Aren’t then all provisions, in Christ also yours? If you haven’t lost Christ, child, nothing is ever lost. Remember, ‘through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God’ [Acts 14:22], and in ‘sharing in [My Son’s] sufferings, becoming like Him in His death’ you come ‘to know Christ and the power of His resurrection’ [Phil 3:10]”
--"One Thousand Gifts"

Jehovah-Shammah, Fill the empty places.

things I've learned from [teaching] a 5 year old

• Stick to your guns. Make decisions carefully, but once decided, commit to that decision.
• That being said, listen for what is trying to be said. A 5-year old is a person, too. Perhaps not the most articulate or rational, but there are ideas and thoughts there, and they should be affirmed.
• Don't be afraid to say you're sorry, you were wrong.
• Model the character you desire to instill. Character trumps book smarts.
• Sometimes bad attitudes and uncooperative behavior comes from a deep-rooted fear of failure.
• But in those times, the external assurance of another imparted through praise and encouragement is the best motivator and the best cultivator self-confidence.
• Learn by doing.
• Sometimes homemade play-dough is a little too messy for more refined tastes.
• When in doubt, make cookies.
• Spelling by "sounding out" is doubly hard when the only other English that is used to being heard is pronounced with a foreign accent.
• In an educational culture of serious book-study, imagination and hands-on can be an unequaled mollification.
  

What I miss about America

Today I woke up and it felt different. I wasn't sure what it was, but there was a happiness of being alive, of making plans, of having work and rest. I chalked it up to being Friday.

But then I looked out the window and something made me catch my breath for a nanosecond. The sky.




It was blue.


You don't even understand. I have not seen the blue sky in what seems like over a year. In spite of living in the sunny south, the sky is almost always shrouded in a thick gauze of smog. Just the other day I realized how I had almost forgotten what a blue sky looks like until I saw this picture in my newsfeed, an instagram from an acquaintance (in the US of A).

"This must be what it's like when the sky smiles," was the caption. Something within my heart was stirred.


To me, this instagram captures a sense of the hidden yearning that resides in my heart as a pilgrim in a foreign land. Before I moved I considered myself pretty transient to my surroundings; dependent on my culture-crossing upbringing, a knack for adapting, and thirst for adventure. But I've come to realize in time that there are things inbred into me that I never would have recognized before. An indelible mark impressed upon me -- that where I grew up has become a part of me that I cannot deny.

And as much as I would (or would not) be loathe to admit it.... I do miss America.

I miss crystal blue, sapphire skies
I miss purple twilight when the sun just goes down and the lightning bugs come out
I miss sitting on the deck with the big backyard in the cool evening breeze
I miss chic shopping centers
I miss wide, smooth roads, free of scooters
I miss the cherry blossoms blooming in the spring
I miss barbecues
I miss ethnic food
I miss seeing the stars
I miss open landscapes
I miss big houses
I miss seeing farmland and livestock grazing
I miss long summer days when the sun sets at 9
I miss thunderstorms
I really, really miss stepping outside and breathing in clean, fresh air, air that is not laden with exhaust or sewer smells.

But on the rare day that the skies do reveal itself, and the air disperses itself to a purity so clear that the distant city skyline can be seen, a palpable sense of grace is bestowed. An awakening that yes, there is a joy to simply being alive.

And indeed the sky smiled on us today.

pity

I have a nephew.
My cousin gave birth to Obi in the winter last year, and I was able to visit him and his mother in the postpartum ward, peering at his little pink face, all wrapped in a towel, through the glass that partitioned the sleeping babies from visitors.


I've had the pleasure of visiting Obi a few times since his birth. He has completely stolen my heart with his giggles, snuggles, and smiles. And I know I'm not the only one. Obi has grown to a handsome, fun-loving, joy-filled, dashing little boy. All things loveable and loving, he is quick to give out smiles and hugs, charming all who meet him with his symmetric dimples and perfect little teeth. He lives a flourishing life with loving parents, a skilled nanny, doting grandparents, and adoring aunts and uncles. In Chinese we call his name 亮亮, which expresses the shining, bright light which has pierced all of our hearts when he came into the world.

Obi has albinism.


When the quavers of the initial shock rippled its way throughout our extended family, we all reached out as best we could to hold up our loved ones through the process when things in your family don't go as you've planned. Then the storm passed and gave way to the clear, sunny skies of Obi's smiles and giggles, and I thought all was well, as could be well. Everyone loved Obi, and his dedicated parents were committed to do whatever would be best for him.

But it doesn't stop there. This past weekend I went to visit my grandma and on more than one occasion the mention of Obi would bring about this reaction: "好可惜" -- what a pity, with a sigh or a slight shake of the head. The first time I heard it, I could only give a sympathetic smile while I inwardly rebelled. Then I heard it again and again, and the more I heard it, the more unhappy I became.

In our world, the hold of each culture's ideals is strong. We wish for health, security, success. But things happen outside our control because we are finite beings, and those who do not measure up to those ideals are either marginalized, pitied, or a blend of both. And yes, when we see such an energetic, happy, handsome baby as Obi and think about the struggles he may face in the future, of course we have feelings of pity for him. But Obi cannot be defined by his difficulties, just as we are not.

The words "可惜" are used when milk is spilled, or when a bunch of green vegetables is left to wither away for more than a week in the chiller compartment of the fridge, or when a useful piece of dishware is broken. They are used when a good coupon expires, or when a congenial couple breaks up. It's a pity. What a pity.

To me, in these words, there is a sense of waste. The milk, the veggies, the dish, the savings, the chemistry -- something good is gone. There is something shameful in it; the full potential that was left unreached. But if we use these words on a yet ungrown child, the words cast a barrier in front of him -- they assume he can never reach his full effectiveness. That he will never experience life fully. In a sense, he will never be fully human.

I want to refute these words and the ideas behind them. Obi is not one to be pitied. There is nothing shameful about his condition. He is a precious, precious being, and God willing, he will grow and mature and reach his full potential -- not the predetermined ideals set by society, but develop into the person that he alone can be and do the things that he alone can do as an individual. Who is to say he will not or cannot be a great person?

 To me, he already is.



I write this as much for myself as for all out there who encounter special needs in their lives. As much as I am for advocacy, intervention, and integration, there can only be so much that parents, educators, and specialists can do. Without love and acceptance from family, friends, and community, it will only be so much harder, in spite of the technology, the therapy, the research. We cannot turn a blind eye just because they are different from us. This is why I am so glad that our school has chosen to partner with ministries such as Taiwan Sunshine and the special needs school in Ren Wu district, connecting our students with other students who may not look, act, or communicate the same way that they do, but reaching out to discover the same joys and graces that God bestows upon us in this world.

So let it not be a pity. Let them be empowered.

taking back JOY

The day I walked into our first home together I knew there would be a lot of work to do. Exhausted from two days of traveling, my shoulders slumped even more when I saw the piles of dust, the splintering wood, the cracking tiles. But we were newly married, and with that newly married glow in my mind I pictured the pioneer girl who, with her grit and pluck, managed to make a home out of a wilderness. So I rolled up my metaphorical sleeves and set to work.

But the days went by and we settled, as the dust that settles, no matter how it was wiped away. The buckets under the leaky sinks amassed dirty water. The old pipes smelled--we covered the drains and turned our heads away, just as we squinted away the bad paint job on the walls, blinked at the eroding grout, blind-eyed the splintering doors. Just two years, at most. And then we could move on.

But try as I might, no amount of wiping, bucket-emptying, head-turning, or eye-squinting made all those things go away. Slowly, imperceptibly, a corrosiveness seeped into my being. An attitude of the temporary. To endure, stick through, put up with this present existence until Happy Ever After. A subconscious resignation to a gnawing discontent.

Oh discontent. How you have been the downfall of humanity! In the silent void, the restlessness takes on a cancerous unhappiness.

I read a blog post of another lady who discovered, from the mouth of her little son, a perceptible loss of joy in her heart after a monumental relocation of her family -- the transition had been hard on her; what she didn't realize is that it wasn't just an internal struggle. Her quiet, inward distress was affecting her children. What got to me was that aside from the message coming from the voice of a 9 year old son, I felt it was exactly what I was going through as well. Someone alongside me asking me with tears in their wide-open, wondering eyes where my joy went.

I asked myself. I am tired, discouraged, worn down by mundane toil; a solitary, isolated path on an endless mountain-pile of to-dos. My present is a schedule book and an eternal list. In this world, friends are far and heartfelt communication rare.
And this is how a heart is worn, tattered to thanklessness.

So now I challenge myself.
Remember who I am: loved and cherished by an Almighty God.

Be present -- not in the book or the list, but in the grains of sweetness that give life its special meaning.

Be open -- not to critical thoughts or internal judgments, but to receive the daily graces of a Good Father.

Be near -- not to the world and its mindless bustle, but to my God: my Savior, Redeemer, Healer, Provider, Friend.

Be thankful -- not just for work to earn daily bread, but for every little thing He sends to remind me of His goodness, His grace, His favor.


Today, it is...
...the spring rain. God knows to send refreshing to cool a parched and thirsty soul.
...the graciousness of others, who yield themselves in order to smooth the way for me.
...the ability to, at a moment's notice, send a heartfelt message to someone oceans away.



Will you, also, be challenged with me? What are you thankful for today?