According to Plan

In my mind, I immediately had a plan laid out. I counted forward by a number of weeks to determine when I would write this post. It would have been posted at right around this time, the latter half of June. The plan was to see the doctor, get a printout of the ultrasound, and then post it here, with the simple blog title "News". No post content. Just the title and a picture.

And then, on June 1st, we had a miscarriage. This was not how we had planned it. The blog entry I had planned to write was the least of our disappointments. There was so much more in my heart and mind that I had already begun planning in the weeks prior. Name. Which room would be hers (or his). Whether she (or he) would play the piano or the erhu. Whether she (or he) should train to play setter or libero. There were a million more little details in this plan.

I'm thankful that all the details and plans of our lives are in the control of His wise and loving hands... not in mine. And in His plan, we happened to be in the big city and down the street from a good, English-speaking international hospital. And in His plan, Bethany's pain was only emotional, not physical; the doctors said she was healthy; this miscarriage was nothing out of the ordinary for many first pregnancies. And in His plan, this never-before-experienced sense of loss would draw us closer to each other and make us even more thankful to celebrate 6 years of marriage together. And it would draw us closer to Him.

We've been back in our city now for about 2 weeks. We've been on a little bit of a blog sabbatical, as we settle back in and process. As more thoughts come to us, we'll do our best to post them here, so that you can track with our heart journey along the way.

I spent some time thinking on this one last week...

As you do not know the path of the wind or how the body is formed in the mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things. (Eccl 11:5)

I believe that is true. There are things that I do not understand about his plan, perhaps just like my child would not have understood why I trained her (or him) to be a libero instead of a setter. But I'm glad when things go according to His plan, because He really does know what He's doing, and He really does love us just as a father loves his children.

After the Last Tear Falls

This afternoon, right smack in the middle of a javascript power coding session, this song came on - After the Last Tear Falls, by Andrew Peterson - and, I've never heard it before. I decided to listen to it again. And, for some reason, it absolutely broke me. I'm not too sure why. Is it from watching people around us go through the pain of loss? Or am I simply yearning for the day when all things will be made right?

Play the song above, or read the lyrics below...

After the last tear falls
After the last secret's told
After the last bullet tears through flesh and bone
After the last child starves
And the last girl walks the boulevard
After the last year that's just too hard

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

After the last disgrace
After the last lie to save some face
After the last brutal jab from a poison tongue
After the last dirty politician
After the last meal down at the mission
After the last lonely night in prison

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We'll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all
And we'll look back on these tears as old tales

'Cause after the last plan fails
After the last siren wails
After the last young husband sails off to join the war
After the last "this marriage is over"
After the last young girl's innocence is stolen
After the last years of silence that won't let a heart open

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We'll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all
And we'll look back on these tears as old tales

'Cause after the last tear falls
There is love

Look My Age

On Sunday afternoon, I ran into someone at a SBUX here whom I had not seen in over 4 years. That's what happens when you go to SBUX's in the hometown where you grew up.

After a little bit of chit-chat and catching up, he said to me, "Well, you sure look like the world has been pretty rough on you in the last few years. But you've still got a good smile, so you must be doing ok."

After I process his statement, I immediately think about the last time that I looked in the mirror. It was maybe... 6 hours earlier. Come on, did I look that bad? What does it mean when someone tells you that it looks like the world has been pretty rough on you? Especially if I don't really feel like the world has been pretty rough on me...

Am I getting old? And showing the signs of getting old? Maybe 3 years ago, I would have conversations with people and joke about me and Bethany being kids, and we still get mistaken for being high-schoolers, and how we even get carded for buying apple cider and root beer. But umm... maybe I won't have those conversations anymore. Maybe I actually do look 30.

Though not necessarily in stressful ways that would cause accelerated aging, these last 5 years of my life have been eventful and tremendously pivotal in my own formation as a person. Married life. Theological education. Challenges in brokenness and grace. And having close friends that have journeyed and will journey with us... forward and overseas.

So yes, I guess I am getting older. And maybe my face is starting to show it. Bethany says I need to wear sunscreen. But even if the world has been pretty rough on me, at least I've still got a good smile on my face, because He is always good.

Simply Complicated

After a first half of the day filled with ups and downs, I came home hungry. So, I just whipped together something, and it hit the spot perfectly. Quick little bundle of thin noodles boiled. Topped with a sliced pork chop, some chopped green onions, and some chili oil. It was delicious.

I'm sure there are some days when The French Laundry, with its morel mushrooms and tomato diamonds, are the way to go. But today, simplicity ruled the day.

A simple meal like this got me thinking about how often our lives are not simple. The pleasures that we enjoy are so often no longer the simple ones. Or - in pursuing convenience or security, or even more noble pursuits like love or compassion - we layer our lives with more and more complexity.

Granted, my life would be simpler if I lived alone, interacted with no one, and kept to myself. So it was clearly a conscious decision of mine to do things like marry a wonderful girl or build into friendships that I valued. These things were well worth it to me, even though they complicated my life.

Some people own dogs, even though doing so clearly complicates their lives. They do it because the pleasure of their canine companion far outweighs the complexity cost they experience. That's fine (but I don't think I could ever own a dog).

But I do want to do some good thinking about what things I have let seep into my life which make my life needlessly more complicated. That is, find those things where the cost of complexity outweigh the benefits. For example, owning two cars meant worrying doubly much about the cost of gas and insurance or keeping up with maintenance and registration, etc. Our lives are simpler now with just one car. And, riding the DART is pretty darn good.

So then, what are those things in life that I own or pursue which... have more control over me than I do over it? What are those things in my life that I thought would simplify my life but actually complicate it instead? I should make a list...

Weighed Down

I do not know what to blog about today. So I will blog about how I feel. Why? Because I rarely care about or talk about how I feel, so maybe it's healthy for me to do so. And, because today I feel differently than I do on most days.

Today, I feel... weighed down.

Some of the things weighing me down are the things that people around me are going through. Interpersonal relationships. Insecurities. Suffering. Pain. I think that, usually, I can listen and be there for people, and help to carry their burdens, and not feel too weighed down myself. Today's feeling is... rare. Maybe by tomorrow it will pass.

Some of the things weighing me down are the things we will be going through in the next few months. And there will be a lot. Packing up. Moving. Saying goodbyes. Tying up loose ends. And all this, while I'm still trying to put in a certain number of hours each week as an independent web programmer. Maybe it's stress, or uncertainty, or even fear. I guess I'm still processing.

And then, some of the things weighing me down are completely internal to me. Things like... how can I be better? Not just do things better. But actually be better. Like... be a better husband. Be a better brother. Be a better son. Be a better friend. And ultimately, be a better follower of chrst. This weighs me down too.

My typical response on these rare days when I feel weighed down is to list out what needs to be done, and then just have at it. Start doing stuff. Get things done. But tonight, I am going to try something different. Maybe tonight, I will be still. Quiet myself. Stop. Listen. Read. Pr'y.

So that's how I feel today. Rare, don't you think? Not quite... my usual. But there's nothing wrong with that.

This has been a good session. I think we've accomplished a lot in our time together today.

The End of the World

On Thursday, as I was walking out of a SBUX to my car, I passed a familiar scene. Splattered on the concrete was a small drink - probably a hot chocolate. Standing next to the mess was a sobbing 3-year-old boy, with his face buried into his dad's thigh. His dad was saying things like, "It's ok! Mommy is getting another one. Don't cry... don't cry..."

If you're old enough to read this blog (so, like, ages 6 and up), then you have a good perspective on this situation. For the 3-year-old boy, of course, this dropped hot chocolate is the end of the world. It is the absolute biggest thing going on his life, and he's not so sure that he'll make it through. So you want to tell the boy, "Hey, it's going to be ok. Best case scenario... mom comes back in 3 minutes with another one! Worse case scenario... we head home, and in about 30 minutes, you'll be eating a yummy grilled cheese sandwich for lunch and you'll have forgotten all about your hot chocolate."

It takes being older than 3, and seeing other 3-year-olds go through and get through spilled drinks, or dropped ice cream cones, or broken crayons... to know that it really will be ok for them, and it's not the end of the world. Isn't perspective great?

But then you hit middle school, and 3 of the kids in the cool crowd say nasty things about you to everyone in your class. Your reputation (for this week) is ruined. It's the absolute biggest thing going on in your life. It's the end of the world. But you got through it.

High school comes along and you have nobody to goto the prom with, or nobody will accept your friend request on Facebook, or everybody else is getting into good colleges but you're still waiting to hear.

Once you get a little bit older, you look back at those experiences and realize that, even though at the time it was the biggest thing going on in your life, and it was the end of the world... in the end, it really was going to be ok. Others have gone before. And not being able to goto the prom is nothing compared to losing your job in a recession.

But then again, losing your job in a recession... is nothing compared to losing your friend in a car accident.

Our pain is valid. The things we go through, and what we feel as we go through them... certainly these things are not to be minimized. But too many times I've gone through a difficult experience thinking, This is the absolute biggest thing going on for me. I don't know how I'll get through this. This is the end of the world. And then, a week later, or 3 months later, or a few years down the road... I go through something bigger or more difficult, and the last thing really didn't seem quite as bad as I had thought at the time.

So, for today, this is my reminder to myself. I need to step back and get perspective. Big things... yes, they're big... but it's going to be ok. Best case scenario... a miraculous change of events turns everything for the better by noon today. Worse case scenario... I suffer a little bit longer, and maybe even die. But I think it's going to be ok.

A Song Worth Knowing

There may only be one song out there such that - every time I hear the song - I stop to listen, breathe a deep sigh, and am moved to emotion... sometimes to tears. Elijah, by the late Rich Mullins, is worth listening to and worth reflecting upon.

These days, I'm learning about perspective. Lessons about how the big things we go through in life, though they are big in our eyes and validly so, are so small compared to the core stuff of life and death and existence. That's for a later blog entry. But Elijah reminds me to hold tightly to that which is worthy, and to hold loosely... everything else.

---

The Jordan is waiting for me to cross through
My heart is aging I can tell
So Lord, I'm begging for one last favor from You
Here's my heart take it where You will

This life has shown me how we're mended and how we're torn
How it's okay to be lonely as long as you're free
Sometimes my ground was stoney
And sometimes covered up with thorns
And only You could make it what it had to be
And now that it's done

Well if they dressed me like a pauper
Or if they dined me like a prince
If they lay me with my fathers
Or if my ashes scatter on the wind I don't care

But when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye

There's people been friendly, but they'd never be your friends
Sometimes this has bent me to the ground
Now that this is all ending I want to hear some music once again '
Cause it's the finest thing that I have ever found

But the Jordan is waiting
Though I ain't never seen the other side
They say you can't take in the things you have here
So on the road to salvation I stick out my thumb and He gives me a ride
And His music is already falling on my ears

There's people been talking
They say they're worried about my soul
Well, I'm here to tell you I'll keep rocking
'Til I'm sure it's my time to roll
And when I do

When I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye

Post Dentist Visit Confessions and Lessons

Went to the dentist today. (A shout-out to you, my dentist, if you read this blog). So I'm willing to put myself out there and be vulnerable in order to relate a lesson that I have been learning about myself. You may think less of me for this. You may think I'm a horrible person. It's ok... I've already come to grips with my own brokenness. You should too.

I do not floss everyday. In fact, there are some days when I just pass out in bed, completely bypassing the standard floss-brush-rinse routine that we all lecture each other to do (even some of us who don't actually do it ourselves).

Ok, so now you know. Go ahead, throw the stones.

But here's the lesson I'm learning. It's all about self-control. I recently asked myself the question: How in the world can I expect to have the self-control to do things like read the word, pr to the father, be careful of what I say, love difficult people, stand up in the face of difficulty or temptation... if I don't even have the self-control to floss and brush everyday? How can I expect to do well in the bigger things of life when I do so poorly in the small, 5-minute activities of daily life?

So, tonight... I will floss. I will brush. I will even rinse with ACT Restoring Mouthwash. Not because I care that much about my teeth (I'm sorry, dentist. I mean, come on, I'm moving to a part of the world where my teeth will be in the upper 5 percentile). But because doing well in this small area of life might just have some bearing on how well I might do in bigger areas of life.

The Waiting Room

On Thursday morning, I brought a good friend to the hospital to get a procedure done. He wouldn't be able to drive home afterward, and so I waited for the two hours or so for him to go through the procedure and rest up to be able to head home.

The waiting room, while it did have coffee, had no wifi. And no cell phone service, unless I walked about 50 yards to another room and stood by the window. So there I found myself, for two hours... waiting. It was one of the best times of quiet that I've had all week. Sitting. Slowing Down. Reading. Thinking. Pra'ing.

The circumstances required me to sit and wait and just be still for a little bit. I would not have imposed these conditions upon myself - and yet the time was so good. Why do we so often hate waiting rather than embrace it?

On Thursday afternoon, I went to NTB to change the tires on Bethany's car. I also showed up with no wallet and no cell phone (silly me. But NTB looked up my account and allowed me to pay anyways.) That left me waiting in the NTB waiting room for 90 minutes, where there was no wifi, and I have no cell phone. That's two times of forced stillness in one day. It was another very refreshing time - and again, imposed upon me rather than self-imposed... which is too bad.

Waiting in stop-and-go traffic that you can do nothing to change. Waiting on hold for 40 minutes until a live customer service rep comes on. Waiting for the nurse to call your name so the doctor will see you. In our culture, we hate waiting, and we think to ourselves, "I've got things to do. Let's hurry this up. Come on..."

Or we can take the imposed time of waiting and use it to slow down, think, read, be still.

In some things, perhaps the Father imposes 45 minutes of waiting upon us. In other things, perhaps the waiting time is 4 months or 5 years. What will I do with that time?

Our Rights (But Why Sometimes it is not Important)

Our Rights

Back in the summer, Alvin and I had a layover in the San Francisco airport in order to catch a flight to another location. We had four hours to wait and I was super hungry. So I took a walk around the restaurants to check out my options. I found this Chinese shop that was selling dim sum. These dim sum were in baskets and each basket had three pieces. They had siu mai, har gow, and pork buns. So I asked the cashier, how much for the dim sum? She said, 3 for $5. Awesome! So I ran back to Alvin to report. I said, let's get one of each. So I walked back to the cashier, and said, I'll take three baskets. She said, "that will be $15." $15! Oh no! I was outraged. 9 pieces of dim sum for $15. Yikes. Rip off! Outrage! So I said, no thank you, and walked away. I then told Alvin how I almost got ripped off. That sense of anger at having someone rip me off was overwhelming. Dim sum should be between $2.00-$3.00 for a basket with 4-6 pieces. I have my rights, and someone just stepped all over it.

Yet as I kept thinking about it, I realized that I was getting angry (which is not good for my health) just because someone took away my rights. My right not to be ripped off. And I realized the only reason I felt ripped off was because I had an opinion of what was a just price for dim sum. Yet it was only about $2 more, and I was upset.

I remember when I was young, my cousins used to say that they would get scared that people would take advantage of me. As a result, I started to live my life making sure I get what I deserved (only the good stuff though) and never get cheated. When I do get cheated, I would be upset. Yet no one ever says life will be fair and all people will have just pricing. No one ever says that I am guaranteed a good price.

I am starting to realize that it is good to be a good steward of my money, but to be upset when I get ripped off is wrong for me. This is something I need to work on since overseas I know that I will get ripped off because I am a foreigner. But instead of being upset that life is not fair, I should just accept that I got the foreigner price because (surprise surprise), I am a foreigner.

In the end, I ended up buying one basket of har gow for $5. It is shown above. Alvin laughed at me because they looked a little pathetic. I cut up the har gow into little pieces and ate it slowly so I could savor it.

Death, Control, and Anxiety

A few weeks ago, Bethany and I took a walk - so that Bethany could train for her upcoming half-marathon walk, and so that we could go out to buy some groceries without driving. We ended up doing a 3 mile walk, round-trip from home to the grocery. But on the way, we decided to walk through a beautiful cemetery, one that has been here for decades at least. There was nothing morbid about walking through a cemetery in the middle of the day; but it did remind me that we all live, and we all die. Life is fragile.

Today, I heard a man tell a story about what was going through his mind as he went through open-heart surgery and other on-the-verge-of-life-and-death experiences. We were talking about how it is important for us to take care of our health and to take precautions in life, but to be reminded that, in the grand scheme of things, there is much about life and death that we have no control over whatsoever. We can't control the drunk driver who slides across the center divider. We can't control the tornado or the earthquake that rips through our home. We can't control the rare heart disorder that was never detected. Much of the things of life and death, ultimately, are out of our control.

So that has me thinking about anxiety. I think that what I am most anxious about is whether or not all my affairs would be in order if I were to die. Would I be leaving things a total mess for Bethany, who would already have to deal with grieving over the loss of her wonderful and intelligent and attractive husband? Or do I have it all laid out... emergency contacts, tying up loose ends to pass on my work, financial and insurance matters, making sure that my loved ones know that I love them...? Perhaps I'm anxious... because not all of this is done.

Thinking about life and death is sobering. We avoid it because it's unpleasant; but unpleasant does not mean unrealistic. Even if I don't expect to die soon, would I be ready for it? If I have anxieties - and I do - then I need to deal with what is behind those anxieties. If I have loose ends that I can take care of, so that my dying is not more difficult for family than it needs to be, then I need to take care of those things. The sooner the better.

Inauguration

Yesterday, we had a morning off our training and so Alvin and I were able to watch the inauguration. It was exciting to be a part of history and I was filled with excitement for the future.

Yet, what started to grate on me (and this came more from watching the inauguration ball), was this overarching chanting of "Obama!" and "Yes we can!" The way it was chanted almost seemed like it was a ball game. He seemed more like the team hero who is going to win the game. I was watching an interview of a dance group on America's Best Dance Crew on YouTube, and they ended their interview with, "we are the change, Obama, Obama!"

When Obama was speaking during the inauguration, I was filled with hope. But can he do everything he says he wants to do? Will he fix the economic crisis? Will he save the environment? Will the education system improve? Right now, I am filled with optimism. I know that many of the other people in the crowd believe he is the change needed. But what if he tries and he fails? Have I put my hope in just a man? What happens in the future if things don't change? How long will it take before he is no longer an ideology, and he becomes a man, a man that happens to be the president?

Put Your House In Order

This week of training has been non-stressful, yet very much feeling like we still have so much to prepare before we leave for overseas.

We were handed this flier called, "Put Your House in Order." It includes items like where we put our will, where we want to buried, and where and how to open our safety deposit boxes. While I was listening to the speaker, I started feeling a burden envelope my heart. I started listing things I still needed to do before we leave as well as making an inventory of our big items and whether we should ebay, donate, trash, or give away the item. Yet the biggest burden I felt about putting my house in order was not the preparation with material items or filling out forms. The biggest area in my life I realized I needed to work on was my pr_yer life. The president of our company told us, "little time in pr_ying, little time in effectiveness." I really enjoy being here in training for I know the people in the company believe that pr_ying is important. This week, after being handed the flier, Alvin and I have been trying to put my house in order, starting with my pr_yer life.