Category Archive

FRAGILE

me.

a fight broke out across the street last night. five minutes later, i happened to be checking on how my laundry was drying when i looked out the window. nurses were lifting a man on a stretcher into an ambulance. fragile. life.

an email from my mom: “your childhood friend has cancer. call her asap.” i’m rattled. every fiber of my being wants to leave here and be there with her. with the rest of our friends. tell me again what i’m doing here? fragile. faith.

after dinner, a couple friends playfully tease me. not much really. but their words sting nonetheless. fragile. heart.

this is me. fragile. broken. hurting. but somehow, because of Christ, that is not the end of the story.

PLAYGROUND LESSONS
Written Sunday, April 23

Today, I had the luxury of spending the day at a teahouse, overlooking a playground. As I gazed out the window, here’s what I wrote in my journal…

I’m sitting here watching a little girl play with her dad. She is about 5 years old and her pigtailed hair bounces in the wind as she runs over to the swing. Eagerly, she climbs onto it and begins to forcefully throw her body back and forth, trying to get the swing in motion. Her dad stands at the side watching her in her frenzy. Tired, she stops. He puts out his hand, gently rocking it into full swing. All she needs to do is sit there and enjoy it all – the motion, the breeze and most of all, her father’s presence. A couple seconds later, she jumps off. Her eye is caught by another piece of playground equipment. With great patience, her father stops the swing and follows behind her. A minute later, she skips happily to the merry-go-round. Her father looks lovingly at her and sighs, knowing that this momentary thrill will also pass all too soon.

Is this how you see me, Father? Endlessly seeking entertainment, moving from one thing to the next, keeping myself occupied, choosing things for myself and looking to you for approval?

The child is now onto her fifth or sixth amusement. Her father sits with his arms folded, observing her from a nearby bench. Her energy exceeds his. Five minutes later, he’s engrossed in his newspaper, his child can amuse herself well enough.

How different from this father are You, Father! You never grow weary of your pursuit of us.

Thank you.

FOUR HOURS

I’m feeling especially homesick tonight so I thought I’d blog and see where this goes…

Yesterday, God sent me a surprise in the form of a dear friend from the True North who’s been travelling Asia and happened to be able to come by my city for a brief visit. Brief is not a short enough word though to describe how momentary the four hour visit was. Four hours was only long enough to grab lunch, pass through a local park, breeze through some of my teammate’s apartments and spend some time in musical worship with the rest of my team. Somewhere in there, we managed to have maybe 7 minutes of private conversation.

It’s gotten me thinking though… dear friends are hard to come by. Especially when you’re living in another part of the world. Time together is so very precious – and when there is distance, so very rare. So I look forward to being back in Toronto this summer, but at the same time, I dread moving away again.

Such is the life I’ve chosen. Such is the life I’ve been called to.

I can’t say it’s easy or that my heart doesn’t ache. I can’t pretend I’m a hero. I can only take comfort in the fact that Jesus is the one Friend who will never be separated from me and trust that the ache is familiar to Him too.

To those back home: I miss you all so much. Your smiles, your voices, your hugs, your presence.

To the dear friend mentioned: Thank you for being a beam of sunlight poking into my world. It really was a delight to see you. Next time you come, it’ll be for longer, right? ;)

UPROOTING THE BAOBABS

In the children’s book “The Little Prince,” there is a scene where the rose asks the prince why he so carefully combs through the soil each day, diligently pulling up the baobab sprouts. The prince answers that baobab trees, if left to their own, will grow to be one of the biggest trees in the world. In order to protect the rose and keep their little planet alive, he cannot afford to let a baobab tree take root; otherwise it would consume their space and they would die.

Similarly, I’ve been finding it absolutely necessary to comb through the soil of my heart each day looking for any hints of “baobabs.” Things like pride, envy and discontentment seem to lurk around constantly, waiting for me to let my guard down, waiting for the opportunity to take root. They just don’t go away.

Thankfully, my faith is kept not by my own efforts, but by the grace of the One who saved me.

THE ONE WHO IS

Recently, I’ve been going through a devotional book called “Praying the Names of God” by Ann Spangler. It goes through 26 names of God in the Old Testament in chronological order of how God reveals Himself to us, one name per week. The first one is ELOHIM – God the Creator.

It’s funny how God seems to orchestrate everything in life to go with a certain “message of the moment” though. The week I was learning about God as my creator, everything that came up seemed to remind me of it. And the whole week, I couldn’t figure out why He wanted me to understand Him as Creator so much. At the end of the week, at a prayer time, I was feeling particularly frustrated at my apparent slow rate of growth.

God, why do you even care that I grow? Why are you so passionate about my development anyway? It’s tiring, painful and what benefit does it give you?

Suddenly, I saw it: God as the Creator, delighting in His masterpiece(!) Just as I find joy and delight in drawing something and tweaking this part and changing that part, my God delights in the process of making me more like what He envisions me to be. Finally, I realized why God was trying to pound into my hard head the fact that He is the Creator. He IS the Creator. Not He was. Just because He created at the beginning, doesn’t mean He stopped creating. God is still alive and at work, making new creations of all of us, redeeming the world one person at a time. What hope!

LATE BLOOMER

“this one’s not opening!” my roommate was looking at one of the two lilies i bought two days before. (i had decided i needed encouragment to stay in my house to unpack.) she held up the one she was looking at: its petals were still furled, their tips barely beginning to unfold. in contrast, the other one that i bought at the same time was in full bloom – pink petals radiating out, filling the room with fragrance. it was hard not to doubt my choice in flower choosing – did i buy a dud?

fast forward two days: my roommate walks out of her room and does a double take. “woah! it opened! and it’s so big!” i beam. yep. it opened. and it’s just as – if not more – beautiful as the first one.

then, a quiet voice pipes up in my heart, you are this second lily. don’t be discouraged, your time will come. just when i’m tempted to lament the slowness of my growth, God shows up and encourages me.

how sweet it is to be loved by You.

SOMETIMES LOVE

Sometimes love has to drive a nail into His own hands, into His own hands.
~from a song i heard a number of years ago

love is about sacrifice. i can’t say i’ve mastered it. but i think i’m beginning to understand.

Lord, help me love as You love. Help me give as you give and not fall into bitterness or resentment.