Happy Mother's Day

The Lanyard - Billy Collins

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly-
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that's what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-clothes on my forehead,
and then led me out into the air light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Eternal

"We live differently when we regard the future as a place we will go 'if the Lord wills.' God does not owe me the seventy or eighty years of which Moses speaks in Psalm 90 Every year he gives is a gift, gracious and undeserved. Thanks be to God, not just for the years he has preserved me but for the years he has ordained for me, perfect in number and known only to him.

How aware are you that your days are numbered? How willing are you to ask the Lord to teach you this precious truth? In the closing lines of Psalm 90, Moses makes one last remarkable request of God. He asks not once, but twice that our seventy or eighty years would have an impact that outlives their span.

Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!

Here is a remarkable truth: God is able to bring eternal results from our time-bound efforts. This is what Jesus intimates when he tells us to store up treasure in heaven rather than on earth. When we invest our time in what has eternal significance, we store up treasure in heaven. This side of heaven, the only investments with eternal significance are people."  - Jen Wilken

A beautiful reminder as I begin this next phase of job-searching, soul-searching, call it what you will. Lord, what an adventure it is walking with you. May my eyes grow wider, my faith grow deeper, and my hands grip yours tighter in all this.

Thoughts into the New Year

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; 
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away,
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace."
-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Last year was definitely a year of breaking down--
breaking down my pride, my aim for perfectionism, my desire to please everyone, my notion of being able to do everything, and my idea that I had to like everything that is placed in my life.

I have instead learned the hard way that--
I am not good at everything (obvious but incredible that I assumed this with every job), I am flawed for my own good, I will never please everyone, I am human with grand limitations, and I do not have to pretend to like everything to justify God's sovereignty--He promised to be with me but never promised that I will like everything that comes my way, including this current job. He is still good.

2018.

10 years since I graduated from high school...what.
9 years since I decided on an English and French major.
8 years since I embarked on my first trip to Africa.
7 years since I flew home after spending a semester in Paris.
6 years since I graduated college and began my career in education.
5 years since I went on my first solo trip to Africa to teach in Tunisia.
4 years since I left my classroom and moved to Dallas.
2 years since I started my grad program in Cambridge.
1 year since I got my masters and began my job in Boston.

Praying that this year will be one of building up.
Physically, emotionally, socially, and spiritually.

Lord, please take the wheel.
Lead me into deeper waters with a faith that will carry me through.
<3 p="">

Last Day of the Year

Last Day of 2017.

Incredible how quickly time flies. This time last year I was a giddy grad student getting ready to fly back to Boston to take a winter course called Topics in Ed Psychology. I loved the course, the classmates, and the way the instructor directed the class. I was mesmerized by the content as much as the way he had organized the course for us--content was great, but his teaching style was definitely something else. It was my happy place indeed. I miss those carefree walks to class and leisurely stopping by cafes along the way.

This year, I'm going back to Boston more confused than ever. Winter break unraveled a lot of hurt that I had not noticed and also unveiled incredibly deep joys that I came to so appreciate. When the Church hurts, the rest of the body does too. I learned this so tangibly over the break. Our words have consequences, many of them unseen. I had flashbacks of my church split when I was in middle school--the hurt, the bitterness, the confusion that it brought.

Through all this, I keep thinking of the children. The two toddlers who wrapped their little arms around their daddy's legs as the congregation surrounded their dad to pray for him. The young freshman in college who silently wept before me, crying for her parents who chose a life that she did not have a say in.

I think of the sacrifices of our ministry leaders and realize that they can only make these hard decisions here on earth because they truly see this life as temporal and await a life that is eternal. Once again the verse that spoke to me at the beginning of 2017 continues to resound ever so loudly at its end--it's as if it's getting louder and louder.

Reminder: remember the children always--they see us and understand more than we think.

"Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."-Matt. 6:19-21

Signs of a Mature Church

Sunday Sermon Notes

Pastor Paul Kim.

Renewal.

"A Missional and Mature Church..."

...has the right focus on the right person. The focus of the church is Jesus and not on human celebrities. Are we amazed by the message of the church? Don't celebrate the donkey--he is simply a carrier of the good news. Focus on the man on the donkey.

...elevates the parts of the body that seem weaker. Celebrate weakness. The church must honor those that seem less honorable. It is counter-cultural.

...has very few spectators. Instead of the 80/20 rule, 80 percent should do 100 percent of the work. The other 20 percent should be visitors. It is a big team with very few spectators. The church will be a movement when the body of Christ is released in this crusade.

...has love. There must be love. There is a reason why 1 Corinthians 13 is sandwiched between two chapters on spiritual gifts. Without love, there is nothing. 

ESL Musings

We were asked to share one thing that we have been learning through our studies.

She looked down to collect her thoughts and finally spoke:

I still have questions about God and have doubts. But I know one thing. I want to be like the people who follow Jesus. 

Moments like these I am reminded of the power of God and His divine appointments.
They are indeed divine.

Witnessing miracles every Friday morning. One of my greatest blessings here in Boston.

Love is the Foundation

"Wow, that'a amazing," she breathed.

Her words stopped me in my tracks. My mind just seconds before was buzzing with ideas on what to do next--it was on panic mode after I woke up just an hour before, way after sleeping past my alarm and fully aware that I have a paper due in just 2 hours that was nowhere near complete. It was in the shower when God gave me 1 Corinthians 13 to go over for my first study with my ESL student and dear friend. I felt stripped of control, completely unprepared, totally undone. If a miracle was to happen, there was nothing I could take credit for. And perhaps that was exactly where He wanted me.

This morning I had the honor of guiding a sister through prayer and reading the Word. As we read verse by verse, back and forth from English to Chinese, I could see her eyes widen, her voice pause, and her eyes scan the passage once more. I don't think the Chinese translation is right, she would murmur at times. Just that Sunday, the pastor preached about the living Word. Indeed it is. How could I doubt it when I see my dear friend so captivated after her first reading of this infamous chapter on love? This chapter that I had memorized in elementary school and almost outgrown and taken for granted. She, however, saw His words with fresh eyes. The way they were to be seen and understood. She, was hearing His voice. And I? I was seeing it.

"Love is the foundation," she concluded.

Yes, it is. It really is.
When we reachout, God really does reachin.
Blessed beyond measure in this place.

You unravel me, Lord.
May I never forget what it is like to approach Your Word with childlike faith.
Never ever. May I never grow tired of hearing Your voice.

If you sent me all the way to Boston to witness this,
this was all so worth it.