Category Archive

THOROUGHNESS

one of my favourite passages, i’ve discovered, is Genesis chapter 2 – God’s creation of man and woman. it’s the way things were supposed to be, life in its completeness before the fall. and maybe because i’m a woman, i especially like this passage. because it really tells the story of how woman came to be.

recently, i re-read this passage and i was struck by a detail i’d read before but never grasped the significance of.

God closed up the place. I love what this says about the throroughness of God! He didn’t just leave it an open gaping wound. He is considerate and consciencious. He doesn’t leave half-finished projects lying around. He put things back in place. Because at the heart of it all, He cares. How wonderful it is to know that our God is One who attends to every detail and completes everything He begins.

A TIME NOT TO DANCE

an excerpt from a recent journal entry:

I am a sheep grazing in Your pasture. My eyes meet Your gaze. I am filled with a flood of Your love and kindness. I want to love You back. I want to dance and eat grass like a good sheep and be pleasing to You. I do not, however, amble over to You and let You hold me or stroke me. Why? I am still highly performance driven. Why do I keep my distance from You? Because I don’t believe You love me that much. Huh.

Lord, change my beliefs that I would respond to your love by drawing near and letting You hold me.

I imagine it again. This time, I am awash with your love but I cannot move. So I stand there, frozen. And I bow my head, partly because I’m shy, partly because of shame. You walk over, bend down and pick me up. What grace!

Why am I shy? What is making me feel ashamed? I find it hard to believe You’d want me to come over to you because You are so beautiful, perfect and great (in the original bigness sense of the word). I’m ashamed because I know what You’d like but I can’t seem to pick my feet up. I’m too in awe of You. I’m also ashamed because I know I’m not the softest sheep to hold and that I have burrs and grass all tangled up in my wool. I’m embarassed! I wish I could be perfect before I came to you.

The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve. I want to pick those burrs out of your wool.

Take three. This time, as I’m grazing, I’m aware that my wool is stuck with stuff and it’s been a while since I’ve sat on Your lap. When our gaze meets, I happily saunter over to Your feet. You bend down, pick me up and put me on Your lap as You sit on a rock. You gently begin to stroke me, picking out the weeds and burrs in my wool. We spend an afternoon there. You, speaking softly, sometimes telling me mysteries of the world You created, sometimes sharing what’s on Your heart and sometimes singing over me. Me, content. Just listening and learning from my Master.

How mysterious and wonderful is Your love, Jesus!

HOW BLUEBERRIES GLORIFY GOD

leave it to the hottest day of the year, but my parents and i spent the afternoon yesterday on a berry farm, picking blueberries. as i crouched next to the bushes with the hot sun beating down on me, i eagerly lifted up each branch to see if there were any giant, plump, ripe blueberries hiding under the leaves. somewhere in the silence, i started thinking about how sweet and delicious they were and how i couldn’t wait until i could eat some (farm rules were that you’re only allowed to taste 2-3 berries or you’d be kicked off). and then my thoughts drifted onto God. He was the one who created blueberries in the first place. why did He choose to make them?

the thought then occured to me: Blueberries glorify God by being sweet. they glorify God by being to the fullest what they were designed for.

so now i’m thinking, i have something in common with these blueberries! we’re both created by God to glorify Him by fully being what we’re designed for. the difference, of course, is that i’m aware of this and i have a choice in who i become.

PROCESSING THE CHANGE

It’s been four days since my flight touched down in YVR. I’m realizing more and more that even though I thought I’d been away for one year and then another year, reality is that I’ve been away for two years. It might not seem like such a big difference, but it is. I’m grateful that I decided to delay my return date to Toronto by a few days, grateful, too, for my friend here who’s allowing me to crash at her house.

I’m a basketcase.

So far, here are some things that remind me that I’m not in East Asia anymore:
-clear sky! you know people have just come back from someplace polluted when they stand around in a group waiting for their hotel shuttle, all gawking at the fact that they can see every leaf on a tree 100m away.
-the garbage can at McDonalds was not only automated, it talked!!!!
-people are gracious in line-ups
-my boogers aren’t black (sorry, but it’s true!)
-i can flush my toilet paper
-even though people here are wearing tank tops and skirts, i find myself putting on a jacket over top of my sweater (clear 28 degree weather feels COLD compared to muggy 38 degree weather, ok?!)
-freedom to worship – I can sing to the LORD and read His word wherever and whenever. wow.
-things are made with real quality – even the coinage is heavier here!
-hot water is hot and cold water is cold
-everything is so spread out (maybe downtown will be better?)
-food here feels more acidic to my stomach
-i can read all the ads and signs

coming back second time around is harder in a lot of ways. i’ve gotten so used to the lifestyle and people overseas, readusting requires a deeper grieving. i need to remember thankfulness though. every step God leads me in is what He thinks is best for me. so I will thank Jesus, for bringing me back safely, for giving me “green pastures and quiet waters”, for resources and time to heal, for doing it all so that i don’t have to perform anymore.

WHOOPS… DID I SAY THAT?

So I was having a deep conversation with my friend yesterday, telling her about how God has been encouraging me lately. I shared with her my moment of insight last weekend as I sat on the train staring out the window at the railroad tracks. I told her about how even though there were two iron tracks and small rocks filled all the space between them, there were still wildflowers that managed to bloom in between the rocks. This was a picture of God’s power and will for LIFE. That despite the human tendency to ruin things and make things dead, God’s Spirit prevails.

It all went well until I realized from her expression that something wasn’t right. Then, I realized what had come out of my mouth: instead of saying stones, I said that between the two railway tracks, small tongues filled the space between them!

ugh. hahahaha… thus ends this chapter of my adventures

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.