Archives For faith

On January 18, 2015, I had the privilege of speaking to our local congregation at Heritage Mountain Community Church in Port Moody, BC. We are currently going through a series on meeting God in the various seasons of our souls. I shared my story as part of meeting God in the Winter. Although it was not video or audio recorded, I wanted to share the written version here.
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In July 2006, I was thoroughly struggling with being single. I had no clue at that time that by November of that year, I would be dating Tim. I only knew that at the age of 25, I deeply desired to be married and seemingly had no prospects on the horizon. I took a personal retreat that summer and one afternoon I had this vision. I wrote it in my journal and it carried me forward into the days ahead. I want to share it with our readers today. Continue Reading…

“There are two types of friends: friends of the road and friends of the heart.” I heard someone refer to this African concept in a talk once and thought it was a very perceptive way of describing friendships. As I think about the friends in my own life, I would have to agree.
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Recently, I watched this provoking TED talk called, “Why 30 is not the new 20.” In it, clinical psychologist Meg Jay challenges people in their 20’s to re-evaluate how they are spending their time and challenges the notion that one’s 20’s is a throwaway decade. She encourages young people to “claim” their 20’s by investing in who they might want to be, pursuing their careers by connecting with people beyond their immediate sphere of connections, and choosing their future families by being intentional about who they date.

One of my friends watched the talk and sent me this question, “That was a really inspirational TED talk – I watched the whole video. But I feel that, perhaps, this doesn’t take into account Christianity. In following God, I feel that I am being asked to forsake all my dreams and desires (a stable career, the opportunity to travel, and perhaps a spouse). I feel that by following God, that I am moving backwards through life. What are your thoughts on this?” Great question.
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Raging Against My Limits

olive chan —  September 30, 2012 — 4 Comments

I’m limited. I fight that about myself. I hate being restricted in time, energy and capabilities. I wish I could do it all. I wish I could function on less sleep. I wish I could hang out with more friends each week. I resist my limits.
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About a year ago, Tim, his sister, her husband, and I hatched a plan to purchase a house together and share the space.  It seemed crazy and a bit far-fetched at the time – and it still does when we tell people we share a house.  But there were also so many reasons why we thought it was a good idea. So we launched into the great unknown armed with a hard-working realtor, some childlike prayers of faith and a “we’ll see how it goes” kind of attitude.  This is the story of how we got our house.

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A while ago, a friend suggested to me that I might want to write about what I’ve been learning about prayer through my experience of being a parent.  Since prayer and the deepening of my relationship with God are matters that are close to my heart, and parenthood is the bulk of my daily life these days, it made sense to me to give it some thought.

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What do you do when God sets you up for something great, only to pull the rug from underneath you?  This past week has felt like that for me.  Being the recovering perfectionist that I am, I had wanted to wait until this story had a happy ending before I wrote about it.  But as I contemplated what was going on, I felt convicted to be more honest and real; to tell it as it is.

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Without realizing it, I had slowly become a coward.  This week, God invited me to step out of that hiding place and really live again.

Ever since I burned out at the end of 2007, I somewhat unconsciously swung from go-with-a-gusto approach to life to self-protection mode. (Visit here for my blog dedicated to my burnout experience.)  I think it’s natural and understandable that I reacted to feeling utterly depleted and spent from life by being careful with how I used my time and energy.  But I was gently shown this week that the pendulum had swung to the other extreme.  I had, in a way, over-corrected.
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Being the idealist that I am, before I had Alena, I imagined our feeding times to be like this:  myself as a gentle, nurturing mother looking affectionately at the sweet babe suckling at my breast as we nestled together in the rocking chair.  A week after we brought her home, that picture could not be farther from reality.  Well, everything except for the rocking chair.  It was 6am in the morning, she was thrashing about and crying, I was hysterical and crying, and milk was everywhere but in her tummy.
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