Tim and Olive's Blog

I am working out a theory: To enter into the deepest place of pain in others is to enter one of the most sacred spaces possible.

When someone trusts you so much as to allow you to look into the open wounds of their heart, it draws out of you a response of quietness, respect and gentleness. You recognize the need to tread softly, to be unhurried and to accept the mystery. And suddenly, you are aware that God is there.

Even though I’m an 80’s kid, I’ve never been a follower of Michael Jackson or his music. But something prompted me to log in to CNN to watch the public memorial service this morning. I caught the tail end of the extravaganza. What moved me most was that I was watching the impact that one artist had on the lives of millions of people.

I was affirmed in my belief that the arts has a powerful role to play in connecting to people’s souls. The arts, be it music, dance, film, theatre or visual art, carry within them the potential to bring healing to the deepest parts of a person. Watching Usher sing “Gone Too Soon” was an example of how a song could communicate so much more deeply what was being felt.

Art gives the soul a voice and the vocabulary to express itself. In our busy, noisy lives today, the soul’s voice is often lost, forgotten or even unwelcome. The arts provide a safe place for the soul to emerge.

I don’t know what the Lord has in mind for me, but I know He made me an artist for a reason. My hope is that I would be able to honour Him with what I’ve got.

Last Sunday, Tim and I went to our church’s evening service, which is a little more “off the beaten track” than the morning ones. As the offering baskets were going around, Tim and I couldn’t help but smile when the basket that passed our hands contained the usual envelopes and one big shiny granny smith apple. What a concept! To offer God not only our money, but our other goods as well, right there in church.

Today marks the one year anniversary of my move to Vancouver. Coming to a point of calling this “home” has been a slow one. But I think that out of all the places in the world that I have been, I’m happy that God brought me here to sink my roots. I still can’t get over the fact that beautiful beaches, amazing mountains and the USA are all about a half hour drive away. And our apartment is now such a place of rest – and a mini art gallery to boot! The community God has surrounded me with here has been both a delight and a suprise. I’ve had to remind myself to be open to new friendships – God can work through new friends as much as He has worked through old friends in the past!

This morning, I imagined God as a gardener, carefully tending to His plants, picking off the brown parts, making sure the soil is moist enough and always, always, being ever-attentive to their growth. As I think about this past year and the incredible amount of progress I’ve had, I can see His smiling face, eyes twinkling, pleased with what He’s done.

A friend I met recently told me this story about her time in Africa. I think it’s an excellent illustration for what our attitude toward the Scriptures could aspire to. I know I’m not quite there yet but I’m discovering the value of sitting in a section of the Word and letting it soak. Ruminating, if you will.

Anyway, here’s the story. Hope you enjoy it!

AFRICAN CHICKEN

During her time in Africa, Kim had a quest of sorts: to find tender chicken. Each time her helper would go to the market, she would come home with a chicken as requested. Kim would stick it in the pressure cooker, hoping that this time the meat would be softer. But to her dismay, conversation around the dinner table would trickle into silence as each person ended up concentrating on chewing, trying desperately to break down the meat enough to swallow.

After this happened several times, Kim asked her helper to please choose a young chicken the next time she went to the market. So the helper went as asked and brought back a younger animal. And Kim, not wanting to take any chances, made sure to pressure cooker the chicken extra long. So long, in fact, that the meat fell off the bones… in strings! Strings of meat that could have been played on a violin.

Perplexed, Kim spoke to her helper, trying to understand what was happening. As they talked, she realized “poulet,” which she thought meant “chicken,” actually meant something more like poultry in general. And in that part of the world, meat was so precious that if you were going to have it, it better last you a good long time in your mouth! A good piece of chicken should give you plenty of chew time so you could fully savour the flavour. A good piece of chicken, as it turned out, was a good piece of rooster!

In general, I am glad when God points something out to me and reveals an area where I need to change. But sometimes, it feels like there are too many corrections in too short a span of time. It’s moments like these when I wonder if I’m really accepted and I struggle to see His love.

Mealtimes in our home often fill both our stomachs and our souls. Tim and I love having meaningful conversation over food. Last night was no exception.

As we talked, I got to thinking about how I often expect myself to get every little detail perfect or not to mess up anything small. I wondered out loud why I had such high expectations of myself.

After a brief pause, Tim said, “Too high? Or too low?”

I was puzzled. Too low?

He went on to explain himself. If I was aiming to get every little thing right, my expectations would be too high. But if I was aiming to achieve greater things, the small errors wouldn’t mean as much. Concerning myself about the nitty-gritty when there were bigger things to focus on would be expecting too little.

How often I need to renew my vision!

Last week at church, Darrel Johnson gave a message on Palm Sunday. He unpacked the story of Jesus entering Jerusalem on the donkey, explaining that Jesus’ actions were completely different from the people’s expectations of the Messiah. They were hoping for a political saviour but He saw their deeper need of a saviour from sin and death. One of the conclusions that impacted me the most was this: God would rather disappoint us in order to meet our deepest needs than meet our surface expectations.

As I think about my life and the times I have been disappointed by God’s actions/inaction, it encourages me to think that His love and concern for me goes deeper than simply trying to keep me happy. In the moments when it seems He isn’t there, He’s probably at work in a place I’m not even aware of.

I’ve had this post incubating for a while now and I have finally written down what’s been on my mind. Those who know me might be surprised that I’m writing about the topic of sex. But I think (and hope) what I have to share here might be of help to someone out there. It’s so commonly addressed in the media, but so rarely among friends – at least among the people I know.Anyway, growing up in a conservative Chinese Christian culture, I was always taught that sex is reserved for a man and a woman inside of marriage. I agreed with that principle (and I still do), so I naively assumed that I wouldn’t have to think about it until I was married, or at least when I was ready for marriage. Sure it was an intriguing topic, but I put it on a shelf in my brain somewhere in a dusty corner.

As I grew through my teenage years and university, I not only tried to stay away from sex, I found myself distancing myself from guys. And from what I saw on TV and in movies, and especially after reading books like “Every Man’s Battle,” my perception of men was that they were sexual animals who could pounce at any moment. I’ve since learned that they are not, but back then I was afraid of them. And afraid of my own sexuality.

When Tim and I started dating, I was challenged to re-evaluate my assumptions. Could I trust this man to continue honouring me even when I was attractive to him? Was it possible to have a healthy acceptance of our sexuality without jumping into bed? To my surprise, the answer to both of those questions was Yes. In a particularly enlightening conversation, Tim told me that when I looked nice for him, it helped him to fight lust – because it reminded him that I was worth waiting for. And I learned that my sexuality was just as much a part of my whole person when I was unmarried, and that acceptance of it did not mean that I had to engage in sexual behaviour.

I had to unlearn false perceptions about sex and learn about God’s view of sex. I also had to learn to trust Tim and his leadership of our physical interactions. In the days leading up to our wedding when hormones were raging and impatience was a common companion, I realized that in order for two people to have sex, it doesn’t “just happen.” Contrary to so many stories that I had read, each person must decide to go forward with it. (I am not talking about cases of rape, where one is willfully forced upon.) In a sense, I was shocked to discover that I had more control over myself than what I’d been told. When God tells us His Spirit is one of self-control, He means it!

Now that I’m five whopping months into marriage (and counting!), I have come to a point where I accept and even celebrate that my humanity includes my sexuality. I’m still continuing to figure out what healthy sexuality looks like, but I must say that it’s been quite a journey toward wholeness for me.

I find it interesting that scripture tells us that it’s God’s kindness that leads us to repentance. Scripture doesn’t say that God’s justice leads us to repentance. It makes me wonder whether the phrase, “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near!” means not so much “Repent, for your judgement is near” as “Repent, for your LOVE is near”? Perhaps the motivation for repentance comes not from a fear of punishment but rather, repentance happens because it pains us to hurt Someone who loves us so much? It would seem that the latter motivation would be more in line with the character of God.

Just yesterday, God gently told me that He misses having conversations with me – and if I was honest with myself, I missed having conversations with Him. I had gone from the extreme of almost legalistic duty of spending time daily in the quietness of His presence to the other extreme of “freedom” and just doing whatever I felt like. God’s love was beckoning me to come back to a place of discipline and consistency. I repented not because I feared judgement, but because I no longer wanted to hurt the One who loves me most.

It makes me think about how we approach people who are living in sin. As the people of God, are we trying to lead people to repentance through kindness? What are people hearing when they hear that the Kingdom of God is near? Do they hear Judgement is near? Or Love is near?