oil can

Wow, it's almost been a month since I've last written.  It almost feels like this blog was my friend or constant companion to whom I could tell the utterings of my heart whenever I felt like it... and since my posts have gotten fewer and fewer as time has gone by... I do actually miss writing to you, blog.  I feel like there's so much I haven't shared with you... so many life events that have come and gone.

December has really just flown by.  Life since Thanksgiving has been a whirlwind of work, hanging out, going out and then recovering from all of that in the comfort of my bed.  Even now, I have decided that sitting at my desk is "too much work" so I busted out my lap desk (which I haven't used much since nursing school's ended) and am writing in bed... with an electric blanket warming my legs and my fleece robe warming my arms.  For a split second before I remembered I have a robe...I wished I had a snuggie... but a snuggie is pretty much a long, backwards robe with a pocket.  I'm good.  :)  It was kind of nice... to wish for something and then to realize that you had it all along... just had to flip it around and use it a different way. 

I got CL'd tonight for 6 hours.  That means that our census is low on our floor so they don't need as many nurses as are scheduled to work.  I'll call in a few hours to ask if they need me to come in.  If they need me, I'll go in to work, if not, I get the rest of the night off.  I consider being CL'd as being given bonus life.  And today, I think I need to just rest.  I also feel a little dizzy. Definitely a good night to rest.

So very many thoughts I've pondered lately.  What to share?

I think I want to write about faith, but... we'll see what comes out.

Right now... I feel so very thankful.  And very encouraged.  I've had some rough days... some rough weeks... but through it all I see how God's faithfulness to me has been proven time and time again.  It is quite marvelous.

^{Philemon 15} Perhaps the reason he was separated from you for a little while was that you might have him back forever

Anderson wrote me a letter a while ago... in 2008.  I'm pretty sure he gave it to me back then, but he put it in a folder with videos that he made for me the night before we got married.  I open that letter every once in a while and it reminds me of the things he would tell me if he were still here.  I know he'd still tell me because he told me these things every day of our life together.  He always told me he loved me.  He never let me forget the reasons why. 

I love everything about you. Everything. And i mean it. You can be "mean", but you're like a good teacher that someone eventually learns to appreciate within time. You can be blunt, but you're honest. i always tell you to do things out of love... and you have. We've come a long way darling... and I look forward to going a long ways with you still. - Anderson Chen to Tiffany Ng, August 2008.

I have come a long way and I know it.  I have been forever changed by my beloved and I am still growing and changing... and waiting for the day that we will be reunited.  I know he'd be proud of me.  The more life I live, the more I'm convinced that my husband was an amazing person, if not THE most amazing person I've ever met.  I miss him so much sometimes I can barely breathe.

I want to tell you about this situation at work, but I don't know where to start.  I've been working at my hospital for almost a year now.  Hard to believe how quickly "experience" has added up.  I remember being so overwhelmed in the beginning that I contemplated whether or not I should have become something else other than a nurse... a respiratory therapist... an occupational therapist... something else.  I can't remember when I started to come to work without anxiety and fear.  I distinctly remember having a conversation with someone back in May where I told him that work is work... I enjoy it at times... I tolerate it at most... but all in all... "it's alright".  Things have definitely changed.  I love my job and I am pretty much convinced that I was meant to be a nurse and this is exactly where I need to be right now. There's something very peaceful about knowing that you are in the right place, at the right time, and doing what you need to be doing.  There is no doubt in my mind.  Tiffany Ng...er...Chen was meant to be an R.N. 

There is an old story of an elderly man who always carried a little can of oil with him everywhere he went, and when he would go through a door that squeaked, he would squirt a little oil on the hinges...so he went through life, lubricating all the difficult places, making it easier for all those who came after him...Do you carry your own can of oil with you? Are you ready with your oil of helpfulness in the morning? If you offer your oil to the person nearest you, it may just lubricate the entire day for him. Your oil of cheerfulness will mean more than you know to someone who is downhearted. Or the oil may be a word of encouragement to a person who is full of despair. Never fail to speak it, for our lives may touch others only once on the road of life, and then our paths may diverge, never to meet again. -Streams in the Desert, Dec 8.

I've been thankful for the little moments where I've felt that I was exactly where I needed to be at that particular moment.  I had such a moment a few days ago.  I was assigned to take care of a terminally ill patient.  His wife never left his side. I like it when family members are with the patients.  It makes me happy to see them there. Anyway, so I went in, introduced myself like always, and did my assessment. I asked the wife how she was holding up.  I listened as she talked to me for a few minutes.  Nurses come and go so frequently, she said. I asked if she goes home every once in a while.  She told me she packs for a few days, goes home every few days to shower and do laundry and comes right back.  She told me that other people try to spend the night but they can't sleep there like she can.  I can't remember exactly what I said... but probably something like, "I slept on hospital chairs for 2 months when my husband was in the hospital. I completely understand."

The way she cared for him reminded me of myself when we were living in the hospital in Houston.  Even the way she would sleep in the hospital chairs alongside his bed and reach over to hold his hand... reminded me of the way we used to sleep.  Anyway... our interaction was brief.  I had other patients to assess, meds to pass, and then charting.  My co-worker passed by while I was charting and he told me, "hey... the wife really likes you".  I told him, "but I haven't even done anything".  And that was that.

Throughout the night, she started to give me inklings that she did trust me and wanted to make sure that I'd be coming back to care for her husband.  Before I left work, she asked me if I was coming back again that night and would I get assigned to take care of him again.  I told her that I was scheduled to come back and if they switched my assignment, I would make sure that I'd take care of him the next night.  She said, "oh good.  I'll wait for you to come before I go".

After that, I went to talk to my co-worker again.  I told him, "I think she does like me.  She keeps asking me if I'm coming back".  He said that he'd been in that hallway for 2 weeks and he's never taken care of her husband, but he talks to her all the time.  He said that she really appreciates compassionate nurses and that you understand what she's going through.  She wants you to come back because she knows you'll take care of him and she's excited to sleep in her own bed.

That whole conversation really took me back to the ICU in Houston.  I may have only spent 1 night away from Anderson our entire marriage.  It's extremely difficult to sleep in an ICU and it's even more difficult to sleep when you're so worried about who's going to take care of your husband when you're not watching.  In the 2 months that I lived with Anderson in the hospital, I met a LOT of nurses.  There were ones I liked, there were ones I really didn't like.  The night nurses especially.  There was only one night nurse in the ICU who I trusted completely.  I never worried when she was working.  I knew she'd take care of him the way I would if I could.  I knew that she'd never let him sit in his own poop.  I knew she'd turn him every 2 hours.  I knew if something happened, she'd notice.  And I knew that she cared about us... beyond what a normal nurse would.  She took the time to talk to me like a real person.  I told her stories, she told us stories.  She became my friend.

The only nights I slept more than a few hours at a time were the nights she was working.  The peace of mind she gave me was priceless. Going through the most horrendous moments of my life... was made just a little bit better by having her there... doing her job in such a way... that showed me her heart.  She even gave me an anniversary present.  We "celebrated" our 6-month anniversary in that ICU room two weeks before he passed away.  She was even there for me for that as well.

I still email her every once in a while.  This afternoon I thanked her for being an awesome nurse...for gifting me with priceless hours of rest and peace of mind when I needed it most... and for teaching me how to be and do the same for someone else.

^{2 Corinthians 1:3-4} Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 

If everything I've experienced the past few years had led me up to the point where I could be that nurse for someone else... I am glad that I went through it.  For the moments in which our lives intersected and touched... and then will probably diverge and never meet again... I'm glad that I was there at that particular moment for her.  It is as if God prepared me to be a nurse, a widow, a recipient of comfort and grace... for that one moment...  and I showed up with my oil.  I didn't even intend to do it.  It was as if, just being who I am, arriving at work, and doing what I do everyday... was good enough to be special to someone else. 

I'm not QUITE sure if it was as meaningful to her as it was to me.  I got called off today so I may not see her again. 

Here's what I wrote in my journal 10 days ago... over a week before the interaction with this patient's wife:

All things happen for a purpose. We don't always know for what purpose or why. Sometimes we get an inkling... a mere glimmer of the glory of His masterful handiwork. 

I stand amazed.  That perhaps Anderson departed for this purpose... for me to receive the riches and glory of an abundant life in Him... for me to be comforted so I may comfort others... to prepare me for... something? to write to someone? to speak to someone? to touch a life from near or afar? to intersect with every single person I've met or reconnected with this past year... to everyone who's received a smile, a handshake... I am who I am today because he departed for a while and because God never left me alone. He has done a great work in me. I stand amazed and in awe.  Peace. Love. Joy.  

I'm sorry.. this is getting really long but... I think there's one more thing I wanted to write about or think through as I write it out. 

I was watching House a few weeks ago or I can't even remember when... it was the episode about how the patient would crucify himself on a cross every year because he made a promise to do so if God healed his daughter of a brain tumor.  I honestly don't think that was the "right" thing to do... to bargain with God like that... but whatever, it's TV.  Seeing the patient argue with House about faith... about faithfulness... I think House had tricked the guy by lying to him and giving him treatment that he didn't want.. and then he said "HA! so where's this God of yours..." and then the patient said... "God is gracious... even when we fail Him, He never fails us" and then House says, "so if good things happen, God's good.  If bad things happen, God's gracious..." as if believing in God was the ultimate cop out...that it is illogical to believe in God. 

The whole thing didn't sit well with me.  For many reasons.  I thought about what I would say to someone else if they had said those things to me.  To reconcile logic and faith... I think I used to think that that you could be logical up to a point and then faith would have to take it the rest of the way.  The more I learn about God, the more I logically see that it is illogical NOT to have faith in Him.  For everything He's shown us across all of history and time, for all I have witnessed in the lives of others... and for the transformation I have experienced in my own life... my own personal experience... and not just once, but on a daily basis... it is illogical for me to think that I have any other choice but to have faith in God... it is natural.  If you truly believed that God is all powerful, you should believe that He has the power to do all things, even contrary to nature or what you've experienced with your own two eyes.  I have only lived 28 years.  He has existed for an eternity.  My experience is limited to suburban California life as an Asian American female.  How could I even think that I know better God who has existed since before even man showed up. If you know that God loves to give good gifts to His children and that He always will take care of your needs... why worry?  It'll all work out. 


God is good.  He is all good.  There is nothing good apart from Him.  The bad things in life... really aren't as bad as you think.  Death is not as bad as you may think... although, I guess it is actually worse than you think if you don't consider the eternal consequences of sin in your life. 

God has blessed me immensely. When I say that God loves to give me the desires of my heart... it is also to say that the ultimate desire of my heart is to love and honor Him.  He loved me first and He has shown me His love incessantly since the day I was born, even if I choose not to recognize it.  Just because I don't feel it sometimes, doesn't mean that He isn't there or that He doesn't love me. 

I don't really FEEL it as much anymore... but if I think back and force myself to remember... I have also suffered immensely and I continue to "suffer" through minor issues here and there. But I have hope.  I have hope that whatever goes on in this life... is not the be all end all... it's just a training ground.  I need to take it seriously because it is my life and I've only been given one chance to live it on this earth... but also not to make this life all that I live for. 

The word "trust" is the heart of faith and is the Old Testament word given to the infant, or early, stages of faith. The word "faith" conveys more an act of the will, while the word "belief" conveys an act of the mind or intellect, but trust is the language of the heart. The words "faith" and "belief" refer more to a truth believed or to something expected to happen.

Trust implies more than this, for it sees and feels and it leans on those who have a great, living, and genuine heart of love. Therefore let us "trust also in him" (Ps.37:5), through all the delays, in spite of all the difficulties, and in the face of all the rejection we encounter in life. And in spite of our feelings and evidence to the contrary, and even when we cannot understand our way or our situation, may we still "trust also in him; [for] he shall bring it to pass." The way will open, our situation will be changed, and the end result will be peace. The cloud will finally be lifted, and the light of eternal noonday will shine at last.  -Streams in the Desert, December 15.

I trust, with love, that God has put me in the exact place I am meant to be.  I am equipped with exactly what I need.  He even has given me above and beyond more than I can ask or imagine.  What He has withheld, He has withheld for a reason... for a purpose.  In Him is all wisdom and I also trust in that.  He has granted me every desire of my heart, and then some... and what I don't have yet and still desire... I yield to His timing.  If I am not meant to have it... I'm sure it is for the best.  If it is good for me, I'm sure it'll come.  In the meantime... I make the most with what I've got and what I've got is pretty darn awesome. 

Someone told me yesterday that I have a very special, well-developed view of the silver lining of life.  Interesting.  Silver lining... of what exactly?  I feel like all of life is one big silver lining.  What is it lining?  Maybe I haven't thought it through yet.  OK this is getting way long so I'll just end it now. 

Maybe I'm dizzy because I need to eat something.  But I had chocolate chex... hm. 4 hrs ago.  Time to eat again. 

<3,
Tiff

Tools

I really have no idea what I'm going to write about.  Usually I have an inkling, but today... nothing.

Nothing much to share, nothing profound to expound upon... not even any updates.  I just want to write for the sake of writing.

I think I've only cried at work twice... that I can remember.  The first time was the day my venti cup got stolen.  I didn't cry because of the venti cup but the fact that it happened that same day didn't help much either.  The second time was a few days ago.  I did want to write about it back then but... I had 2 more shifts ahead of me and I didn't have the time to spare.

I think the best times to write are when I'm crying.  It's the surge of emotions that stir up all kinds of somethings... and those somethings need to come out somehow.

I was thinking about the ways that I express myself.  I've spent many hours in front of this screen... asking people how they're doing, responding to questions, writing essays, chatting... looking up stuff... watching youtube videos... listening to music.  And also crying.  Typing and crying.  Crying then typing.  My fingers fall into the grooves of the keys on this keyboard so easily.  They've laid here so often.  Amazing how emotions become words by pressing a few buttons... and how easily this button-pressing can translate back into emotions... to be read by so many people so far, far away.  Communication is magical. 

I watched the Time Traveler's Wife tonight.  It was a cold night.  I was deterred from going to Target to get myself some Cheez-its because the heater got turned on... and my browser told me it was 50 something degrees outside.  I also happened across some of our pictures from Houston earlier today.  Fond memories of very good times with very good friends.

I couldn't help but cry through almost the entire movie.  I think it was buildup from what started many days earlier.

Lately when I think of Anderson... all I see is us in the ICU at M.D. Anderson.  Six years together and what I keep coming back to is the ICU.  And I can't bring myself back to those moments when he was awake and talking... I imagine myself there and he's unconscious and intubated.  And all I can do is stare at him helplessly; trying to memorize every single detail about his face.  The memory's pretty foggy now... a year and a half later.  All I have now are pictures.  It used to scare me that I'd one day forget the sound of his voice... what it felt like to touch him... to hold his hand.  It used to scare me that life would go on without him.

I somehow seem to forget so easily.  Until I'm reminded.

The other day I took care of a patient who reminded me a little bit of Anderson but in a very different way.  Some things were very similar, but some things very different.  I'm not too comfortable talking about the details about the patient but... lying in the hospital bed, being unable to communicate your thoughts, your needs... I was brought back to M.D. Anderson... in the ICU.  I had to do my best to guess what I could do to help.  I tried to be patient and wait until I guessed correctly.  One time while I was waiting... my patient started talking.  Not asking me to get something... he just started talking.

I had no idea what he was saying.  But... from the expressions on his face... the tone of his voice... from the look in his eyes, which were turned away from me... I could tell he was talking for the sake of talking... the same way I write for the sake of writing.  Not necessarily to anyone in particular... but to whoever happens to be there.  And I happened to be there for him.

I imagined my hardest to understand what he was saying.  What I thought I heard him tell me was that he was sad and frustrated at life and at everything that's happened lately.  That one day you could be walking around without a worry in the world, and the next day you're in the hospital, helpless and unable to do the most basic things you took for granted.  That they told him that things would get better, but they haven't.  That the things he loved to do, he couldn't do anymore.  And then that question... "why?"  "why did this happen to me?"  "why to me?"

I couldn't help but to cry.  I didn't want to dab my tears away with paper towels, but I had no choice.  It was handy.  It was dark in the room, but I knew that he was crying too.  I handed him something softer to wipe away his tears.  Before I left work that night... I thought I heard him tell me "you're a good nurse".  I tried my best.  The next night I took care of him, I couldn't keep up with his requests and needs.  I tried really hard, but I couldn't handle it.  Nothing was helping, nothing was working.  I talked to my manager and had my assignment switched for the next day.

I don't know if I made the right decision.  I don't know if I make any right decisions.  I don't know what I'm doing half the time.  I somehow just end up where I am.

In the wake of my trip to China, I think I was going through some kind of identity crisis.  I didn't feel very Chinese.  And even though I'm American... I know I'm not QUITE the quintessential "American" either.  It was quite... unsettling to be in China for me.  Even though I look Chinese... the thoughts I think and the words that come out of my mouth... are not... Chinese.  They're English.  I just didn't feel at home.  And then I come back home to the U.S. and everyone wants to hear about my trip to China.  I'm not quite sure what to tell them other than stuff about the squattie potties and the pushy people.  I almost wished that I didn't have this Chinese face so that people wouldn't assume that I'm Chinese and that going to China was something extraordinarily meaningful for me. I don't really have much pride in China. I know my parents are technically from Hong Kong which is different.  Eh. I don't know. It got all complicated.  I did enjoy my time there, but not so much because of the location but because of the people that I got to spend time with and the food we got to eat together.  I actually think that's more of the main reason why I travel; to see people, eat with them, and spend time with them.  Doesn't really matter where I am.  That's what I enjoy about traveling... it's the people.

So I think I was feeling kind of disgruntled about being born into this Chinese body.  What a weird sentence.  I don't know if I ever imagined myself ever saying that.  Anyway.  Yeah.  Disgruntled.  And then I read about Paul.  He was a Jew, born a Roman citizen, brought up with a family full of Pharisees.  He spoke Greek and Hebrew.  He was of the tribe of Benjamin.  And reading about his life and especially what happened when he went to trial... he used who he was to his advantage.  When speaking to his fellow Jews, he spoke to them in Hebrew.  When in the Sanhedrin, he appealed to the Pharisees.  When traveling, he used his tent-making skills to support himself.  He really embraced everything he was and used it to serve God.  And then it made me think about who I am.

Who am I?  I'm female, born in America to Chinese parents.  I grew up in Southern California.  I grew up in a Chinese Southern Baptist church.  I'm a nurse.  I'm a widow.  I am all these things and yet still me.  Perhaps some Asian person somewhere will feel more comfortable talking to me because they can see my Asian face.  Perhaps some woman somewhere will feel more comfortable talking to me because I'm a woman.  Or some nurse will tell me about some random something because I'm also a nurse.  All of these things... who I am, what I look like, what I've experienced in life, my occupation... they all give me some kind of "in"... some common ground that will allow me to minister to a variety of people... who are similar to me... and also some who aren't.  Paul was a Roman Jew.  I'm an American-born Chinese.  I was meant to be who I am... not for pride, but for service.  They're like my skills... except they're not skills... I was born with some of them and some were forced on me... some I pursued.  Tools maybe.  Tools that I already had... tools that I bought, some tools were given to me, and some just happened to be thrown into my toolbox.  All were designed and meant to be used for a purpose. 

I think I was meant to be there with that man in that hospital room that day.  Not quite sure what he was thinking or what he was saying, but maybe he needed to cry.  Maybe he needed someone to listen.  And maybe because of all the things I've experienced... with Anderson... as a nurse... maybe all those things were meant to create a little pocket in my heart for patients like him.  Maybe those few minutes that I stood there at his side... offering him a tissue... trying my hardest to understand... maybe it meant something to him.  Maybe it didn't.  But it meant something to me. 

To feel trapped by my situation and circumstances... by things that I'm unable to change... is... heartbreaking.  If it were me in there... lying helpless in bed, trying to express myself but not being able to... I would want someone there to at least try to listen to me... try to help... try to meet my needs.

And I was thankful.  So very thankful that I was there for Anderson every single day of our marriage, to love and honor him... as long as we both lived.  I was thankful that I didn't have to work or go to school for those six months.  I was thankful that I had family members to take care of me so I didn't have to worry about "living"... I was simply there for him as his wife.  I had six years to get to know him.  Six years of training... listening to the way he spoke, which words he chose to use, the things he liked and the way he liked things done... his hand motions, the look in his eyes... "studying" to be his wife and his nurse... preparing me for my six months of marriage... to be the helper he needed me to be... to translate when the doctors said stuff that no normal person would understand, or even to be comfortable in the hospital so that I could spend every night there with him... sleeping in a wheelchair... sleeping on a cot... sleeping on the chair... ready and waiting... so I would be there and not miss those moments when he needed me.  Precious, precious moments that I would not trade for anything... not for all the chocolate chex or dole whips in the world. 

So... it is no accident that I was born when I was born... that I grew up where I grew up...  that I went to UCI... that I met my husband there... that I became a nurse.  It's no accident that I speak English and no Chinese.  Who knows if Anderson would have even noticed me if I wasn't Asian.  Who knows if he would have even taken the time to get to know me if we never exchanged AIM screen names, or if we never went bowling or played softball, or if I never roomed with his high school friend.  God knew what was best for the both of us and I'm sure He chose me for Anderson and chose Anderson for me because He knew that we needed each other.

And now... after having fulfilled that purpose for his life... it's just me now. 

And I was laying there... all curled up in bed... thinking about how I felt and also thinking about what I know to be true.  I feel lost and alone... all overcome by emotions and feeling like wallowing.  But I know that I am not alone, I'll never be alone and I never was alone... that just because I don't feel that He is, it doesn't change a thing... Jesus is more than enough.  I couldn't even wallow.  I cried my tears and then they stopped.  Peace.  Comfort.  Security.

I used to need to hear that everything was going to be OK.  Why did I need to hear it?  Maybe it was because I didn't believe that they would be or because I chose to worry instead of rest assured. And now after having experienced that even through experiencing the death of my husband, the death of the future I always though I'd have... that I'm OK... that I'm more than OK... I shouldn't be worrying now... about anything.  The future is certain even if the details are foggy at the moment.  To trust that everything will be OK even if I can't see it right now... is faith.  And something I read today... I know it's kind of out of context but it hit me... "do you have faith? Have it to yourself before God" (Romans 14:22).  And so... it's just me but it's not ONLY me... it's me and God.  I can feel lonely and feel like I need people to rely on or to call or email or text or chat with... but... I don't need it.  When it comes down to it... my relationship with God and what I choose to do every minute of everyday... is all on me. Having other people around totally helps, but I can't rely on it either.  No one can ever truly be there for me the way that God can.  He's been around my whole life... knows me inside and out... knows what I need when I need it and chooses better for me than I could have chosen for myself.  My life is a witness to that.  The Word is a witness to the Israelites and God's faithfulness to them across all time.  And the fact that He meets everyone where they are... on the road to Damascus or in an ICU room in Texas... tells me that He is who He says He is and who He has always been forever and ever.  I love it.  

Hm.  I feel better.  I still don't know what I'm doing or whether or not I'm making the right decisions.  I don't know what other "tools" that I should pursue for my toolbox or if now is not the time to get more tools but to put all my efforts into actually using the ones I already have.  Maybe if I walk by a project, I'll stop to use my tools.  Maybe if I stop by a hardware store and it's open... and some pretty pink tool with flowers all over it speaks to me in ways that tell me that someone designed that one just for me... then I'll stop and buy it and learn how to use it.  I don't know.

I think I'll stop writing now.  I should probably finish cleaning my room.  Or go to bed.

I don't know how sitting down to write about "nothing" can turn into such a long email/blog post.  Oh well.  It is what it is. 

Night!
<3,
Tiff

not my home

The last day of October already?  Where has 2010 gone?

I absolutely have no idea what I want to write about... but lots of my blogs start out that way and they still end up being monster long.

Updates:  I got back from China/Hong Kong a few days ago.  It was a vacation with family.  We did the Chinese tour thing in and around Shanghai for the first week, then spent 3 days in Guangzhou and 2 in Hong Kong.  I got lots of stamps in my passport because we kept going in and out of Hong Kong for some reason.

I think I've flown more this past year than I have in my entire life combined.  I used to get on a plane once every few years.  In 2010, I've flown to Maui, Florida/Bahamas, SF, Boston/NY, China/HK... I don't know if I have any more flights in store for me the next few months.  And I've driven further than I've ever driven before... I drove to Bakersfield of all places... I think the furthest I'd driven was like... San Diego.  Oh jk, I drove to Santa Barbara once to see Anderson at the Issels Clinic.  This year has definitely been a big year of changes for the Tiffster. 

I think this is us and the yellow river.  I can't be sure.

Thoughts from China... I keep trying to think of how I would sum up how being there made me feel... and the only phrase that keeps coming to mind was... "this is not my home".

Living in Texas... I was quite aware that I was different... Asian-looking... but everyone treated me very well, very nicely, and very politely.  I think I'm the only Chinese person on the floor at work.  Sometimes I'm very aware that I'm NOT Filipina, but in general, it doesn't bother me much.  There is something even more strange about being in China... looking Chinese... but not being able to speak, read, or understand the language.  As if there's some sort of expectation that I fail to meet.  And I can't say that people there were that accommodating either.  When we were in Hong Kong, I heard someone bargaining in English while we were shopping and he and I had a little chit chat.  The sales ladies asked me later (twice) if I was friends with that "white guy" (in Chinese) and I said no.  It seemed weird to them that two strangers could have a friendly chit chat.  I was just desperate to speak in English and to be understood and I somehow felt more at home chatting with the "white guy" than I did with the people who look like me.  I think my aunt said it best when she wrote in her travel journal:

It is quite unfortunate to find myself a deaf/dumb/mute in my parents' homeland.  (probably didn't remember it verbatim... you'll have to ask her for the direct quote) - Y.Ng, Master of Librarianism

Our Chinese tour told us that our tourguide would be able to speak some English.  Um.  Not really.  So I slept a lot on the bus.  I did have some time to think. There was one tour guide who was apparently hilarious.  75% of the bus were laughing their socks off and the other 25% of us were... quiet and wondering what was so funny.  Another phrase came to mind... seeing but not perceiving, hearing but not understanding.  Yes, I heard the words but I had no idea what they meant and therefore they meant nothing to me.  So... I was just sitting in the bus... letting China kind of just pass on by. 

I imagine that this kid's saying "eh? huh?" in his head... that was pretty much me the whole time in the bus.

I think that the trip would have been infinitely more enriching had I understood what the tourguide was saying.  Another phrase came to mind: to he who has, more will be given, to he who has not, even what he has will be taken away.  To those who understood Chinese, they gained more historical knowledge about the places and sites we were visiting.  They gained more cultural knowledge.  They enjoyed laughs with each other when the tourguide was making jokes.  I, on the other hand... felt like my brain was wasting away.  I wasn't hardly speaking, I was zoning out a lot... I felt brain dead.  I even tried doing a sudoku in pen and I messed it up beyond repair. 

I know those verses don't apply to foreigners traveling to distant lands... but it did remind me about certain things.  The Holy Spirit is the One that reveals spiritual truths to you.  Without the Holy Spirit, we would be seeing and not perceiving what we were seeing... hearing but not getting the point of anything that was said.  Without the understanding given to us by the Holy Spirit... life just passes on by and we don't even know what we're missing.  I'm not a language-y person.  To me... learning a new language is like...impossible... I'd be better off asking for a miracle or a brain transplant.  I can pick up a few words here and there, but to be able to create full sentences or to understand more than the few phrases that my parents say to me everyday... is a whole other matter.  I feel like all my life, I'd been learning things about God in bits and pieces... words and things here and there... and it really wasn't until the past few years that I started to gain a little bit of fluency... that when someone asked me a question, I could conjure an answer based on my understanding and not on a phrase I'd memorized or heard someone else say before.  It is quite amazing to me when I think on it.  Miraculous.  And I'm excited for the H.S. to add on and increase it. 

This was the happiest picture I could find with all 4 of us.  It's on the ferry from Kowloon to Hong Kong.

I think my parents really enjoyed being in Hong Kong... the place where they really grew up. 

And I don't think I can write about China without mentioning the whole toilet situation.  Using a public restroom at home... is as difficult as... finding one.  There are seat protectors, toilet paper... western toilets everywhere.  Using a public restroom in China is... quite an ordeal.  I have to make sure I have pocket tissues in hand; cuz once you squat, it's really hard to get stuff out of your pockets.  There's rarely a hook to hang your stuff off of so... you must balance to make sure your bag doesn't hit the ground.  The whole area is likely wet so I have to consider the balance issue as to NOT fall or slip into it.  You aren't supposed to put toilet paper into the squatter so reaching over to put it into the trash bin is another balancing act.  I brought a few flowy cardigan things... so I had to tie them to make sure they didn't hit the floor when I squatted.  And... I'm a girl.  Aim is... difficult.  Being aware of where I'm peeing is also quite important as to keep from peeing on myself. And then there's the smell. I'm making it a point to clean out the urinals at work a little better... or to change them when the smell gets especially pungent. I can't imagine having to sleep in the same room with something emanating the stench of old urine. And I hang it off their bed rail for easy access. Yikes. Anyway, there were just so many things to consider and think about.  But you gotta do what you gotta do.  At first, I just figured... I'd suck it up because... this is not my home.  After a while... I got used to them... and actually began to prefer them to the western toilets.  Without toilet seat covers... other people just kind of bend over the toilet (without sitting on it) and the whole toilet seat is wet with pee.  So... either I spend time wiping other people's pee and then lining it with pocket tissues before sitting... or I squat over it and risk touching it... or I just use a squatter and I don't have to worry about it.  The squatter is faster.  And I dare say... it probably uses less water than a western toilet.  How very "green".  I am very glad to be home though... to the land where toilet seat covers and tp are nearly always available... and tp goes into the toilet... and there are usually soap and paper towels there for you to use.  It's very nice.

I think there are a lot of things you can learn to put up with if you know that where you are at the moment... is not permanent.

For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison. 2 Cor. 4:17

The things that we must live through and encounter on this earth... are temporary.  If you look beyond them and remember that what's to come is infinitely better and essentially perfect... does what we struggle with on a day to day basis... does it really matter all that much?

So what does matter?  People matter.

I'm reminded about a sermon that Pastor Dan preached on a few months ago... on Jonah and his shrub.  The shrub that grew in a day, he didn't plant it or tend to it or water it... and when the worm ate it, he said he'd rather die.  Really now?  But how many of us get caught up with the shrub?  All of us probably.  What about the souls of the ppl of Nineveh?

And in reading through the gospels lately... Jesus's heart was full of compassion for people... His people... the people of Jerusalem... the people who followed Him everywhere He went... and he told a lot of parables.

The one where the man prepared a feast and invited all these ppl... and one guy said... oh I have my land to deal with, I can't come.  Another guy said... I have to manage my cattle... I can't go.  Another dude said, I just got married, I can't go.  Hmph.  Those ppl were invited to a feast... and all those things would have been still there after the feast.  Bring your wife to the feast then.  I dunno.  That would be the only one that might have had a semi-valid excuse. Someone just prepared a feast and wanted you to be there.  Priorities, priorities. 

The parable of the prodigal son... the other son was more concerned with the fact that his father never threw him a party and he didn't squander his fortune on... less than savory things... and he forgot the fact that his brother had returned home.  And the dad reminded the other son... that all that he owned would be his... but to rejoice today because the lost had been found!  People are more important than things. 

I guess I should probably wrap it up since it's November 1st already.  I think one of the best things we did in China was to go see the acrobat show.  I enjoyed it immensely.  China may be lacking in a lot of areas... in fact they are a down right public health nightmare as far as sanitation practices, but as far as acrobats go... they're pretty darn awesome.  One guy balanced himself on a board on top of a rolling cylinder and was able to throw cups and bowls from his foot to his head... I think his max was 4 bowls from his foot that he kicked up and caught them all on his head.  Unbelievable.  A man balanced a massive ceramic vase on its lip on his bald head. I wonder if it created a dent in his head.  I called him dent head.  Anyway... if you looked at him balancing the thing on his head... spinning it... he never stood still.  He was standing, but he made very small movements... small adjustments... that were necessary to keep that vase balanced on his head. 

I was reminded of a conversation I had with someone... about balance.  Finding a good balance between all the things we need to handle in life... is a good thing right?  A good thing, but somehow an elusive one.  I imagine it to be something like doing situps on the balance ball.  The reason why it's a lot "better" for you is because it forces your core to work harder to maintain the balance you need to actually do situps on it.  I dont know how many muscles it takes... working together to keep you on the ball... a lot?  Balance isn't something you find and once you find it, you're good to go.  Balance is something you have... it takes a lot of little adjustments here and there... back and forth... front and back... to maintain that balance. And I somehow think that my balance is different than your balance is different than someone else's balance.  We are all uniquely different... uniquely gifted... uniquely placed in various situations.  We can't just copy what someone else does and expect it to work for us all the time.  Their life requires them to make their balance adjustments which don't necessarily apply to me and my life and my balance adjustments.  I think it's probably best to take the best of what other people do, take the best of what works for me... leave behind what doesn't work and create some kind of hybrid thing that ends up working better than before.  I'm still trying to figure out in what ways I can take my China experience and use it to enrich my life... still thinking...

k.  No more thoughts for today.
Until next time...
<3,
Tiff

Everything I wanted

give a man everything he wants and in that moment, everything will not be everything -Immanuel Kant

hmm... lots of last minute changes of plan lately.  I'm very glad for them. I haven't written in a while either. I'll just start writing and see what comes out.  Isn't that what I always say? 

Do you ever go about your day and then think back... and remember certain moments where you saw something and just stopped for a second to take it all in... it's in those moments that it feels like time slows down for a few seconds...and then restarts again full force. My days seem punctuated by these types of moments. Usually, I really like to tell someone about it... and sometimes I send a text... sometimes I just keep it to myself. 

Here's one such moment:

It rained for 2 days a few days ago.  My dad had bought me new windshield wipers in the middle of the heatwave that preceded the rain.  I didn't bother to install them when I got them.  I figured I'd have time.  I... didn't install them before it rained and now we're headed for another little heat wave.  Oh well.  Anyway... I don't mind installing wipers, especially now that it's gotten so much easier with the hook type instead of the latch type.  I had decided my sophomore year in college that knowing how to install windshield wipers was important... seeing as my driver's side windshield wiper had decided to liberate itself and fly off at the moment I needed it most... on the freeway in the middle of a torrential rain storm.  I somehow got off the freeway without getting hit, found my way to an auto parts store after 2 different attendants at 2 different gas stations both sent me on a wild goose chase through orange county to find one... I bought and installed it after being completely drenched due having forgotten to bring an umbrella and accidentally stepping into a 6 inch puddle during my hunt.  All this and... I now ALWAYS have an umbrella in my car and I've grown very attached to windshield wipers over the years.  Anderson knew this.

When I got my car a few years ago... I was unhappy with my stock wipers.  They worked, but not extremely well.  He went and bought me new wipers to put on my new car because I couldn't bring myself to buy new wipers for a brand new car.  I had forgotten about his thoughtful gift to me... until yesterday when I removed the old wipers and installed the new ones.  I had somehow expected them to say Nissan on them or something, but they didn't.  And then I remembered... that these were the wipers he had given me... not because I needed them, but because he knew that they would make me happy.  I almost cried when I realized it.

I haven't thrown them away yet, but I will eventually.  I'm glad that my dad didn't install my wipers... and I'm glad my friend didn't either.  I'm glad that I did it myself because... it was one of those moments... a special moment when time stops and I remember just how awesome my beloved was. It was like a little love note... etched into that wiper blade... that said, "Tiff, I love you."  If I hadn't done it myself, I would have missed it. I wouldn't have wanted to miss a love note left especially for me. 

I've been crying for very strange reasons lately.  Well... some strange reasons and some not-so-strange ones.  I cried while watching House... when the brother offered his lung to his dying sister... so that a piece of him could live on in her... and also so that he wouldn't have to go on living without her.  I cried while talking to a friend about what heaven will be like.  I wondered if... even in the midst of all the people who will be joined and united there... if Jesus would hold my hand, walk with me... talk with me... and show me all the things that didn't get written down in the Bible for me to read 2,000 years after it happened.  I wanna see.  I wanna experience it.  And I wondered what it would be like to hold Anderson's hand again.  Our hands were the same size.  He hated to admit it, but they were.  His fingers were a little thicker and his palm slightly larger but... they were the same size. I wear his wedding band on my right hand. We could share batting gloves.  He refused to wear my pink ones, but I know they fit him. 

I was reading in Matthew about the Canaanite woman who cried out to Jesus for healing for her daughter.  Jesus said that He had come for the lost sheep of the children of Israel... and that it's not good to give the children's bread and throw it to the dogs.  And she said that even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the master's table.  And I cried.  Why did I cry?  I could only pinpoint 2 reasons... (1) that these crumbs that have fallen from the table... the ones that I, being a Gentile, have taken as scraps and remnants of the original meal... have saved my life.  These little, tiny morsels... probably not unlike the particles that are perfunctorily brushed off the front of somebody's...shirt or tunic as refuse... have meant everything to me.  They've healed me, restored me, nourished me, satisfied me and have given me more love, peace, and joy than I have experienced in all my years of living... and those were just the crumbs.  Which brings me to reason (2)... that some of those seated at the table... who have been privileged to have been served the whole piece of bread... have rejected it.  So I cried tears of gratitude, thanksgiving... and mourning.  Very interesting tears those were.

I have very many moments during the course of a day where I feel like God intended for me to be right there at that specific time.  Sometimes I feel like... depending on what happens... I intend to take one course for the day... but if something changes, I can go a different way just as easily... as if my life were plotted out on a flow chart and depending on this or that, I can go left or right, which completely alters the events of the day.  Because I got called off from work for 6 hours, I had bonus hours on Thursday night to do whatever I wanted.  I still had to go to the hospital to get my TB test read so I planned on... taking myself to eat something I haven't eaten before... and I just decided that today was the day that I try the carne asada bake at Costco since it's close to work.  I'd actually planned on taking it to-go and sitting at a park to eat... but... the woman gave it to me on the plate so... I changed my plan and decided to eat half of it right then and there.  As I was sitting and eating my bake, I contemplated my next move.  What day was it?  Thursday?  Thursday night there's a farmer's market in downtown Fullerton... which a friend and I found by accident after meeting up for dinner on random Thursday night a few months ago.  So... I decided to go get myself some kettle corn with my bonus time.  I parked and walked... I had to use my phone to go find it because I generally thought I knew where I was going but I could have been wrong... I walked a short block in the wrong direction.  Oh well.  I turned and found the farmer's market.  I could smell the kettle corn a block away.  So I got my kettle corn and walked around a bit.  I decided that it was getting cold outside... so I'd go sit at Starbucks or something and do my daily journaling... with a cup of hot... something. Hot chocolate, I decided while waiting in line. :) I walked into Starbucks and the barista was eyeing what was in my hand... which was my Coffee Bean tumbler... and my kettle corn... and I thought she was going to make a comment about coffee shop loyalty... when she actually made a comment about how she'd wanted kettle corn that day and she decided not to get it.  So I offered her some kettle corn.  It took 3 tries before she'd actually take it.  How very "Asian" of her... but she wasn't Asian.  :P  And a little while later, she gave me 4 Via samples while thanking me for the kettle corn... and then she walked by my table later on and thanked me again for the kettle corn.  I was happy that just a small act of sharing what I had in excess (cuz I bought the big bag)... could make someone so happy.  So grateful.  I was glad that I had ended up there... if anything to give this girl some kettle corn.

I ended up that night at In Transit... and I got to play Cranium (which I love) and listen to a message about being a Godly woman (which I'd been excited to hear)... and catch up with a good friend I hadn't seen in a while.  We hadn't hung out in a long time so we made tentative plans... to hang out IF I didn't have to go to work that night.  I was getting attached to the idea of hanging out with my friend but I hadn't reached the point in the flow chart where I could give it a definite green light yet.  Ended up that I didn't have to go in to work so I could rest that night and go hang out the next morning... we went to the gym!  I went to the gym in the morning like a normal person.  :)  I say "normal person" because normally I live a vampire's life... being asleep from early morning until mid afternoon.  I'm rambling.

Anyway, I had a really awesome day today.  We worked out in the morning, we chatted over breakfast, we went to the market, I went to the chiropractor and listened to a sermon on the way there and back... I met up with two lovely ladies for lunch and had a very important and encouraging discussion... I came home and had another very important conversation with a very good friend which I was GLAD I was home to have... I got to spend an hour or so at the park... soaking in the glorious California sunshine... and I sat and marveled at how all of this took place... because the census on my floor was low last night... and I was somehow at the top of the list to be called off... and that the last 12 hours were like a beautiful gift prepared especially for me... another love note that I was intended to find... and remember that... I am loved.

"As you wish", was all he ever said to her. That day she was amazed to discover that when he was saying, "as you wish", what he meant was, "I love you".  And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back. -S. Morganstern?  LOL.  From the Princess Bride.

Now am I self-absorbed if I think that God made all of this happen just for me?  I think that in the intricate ways that God orchestrates our daily lives... he intertwines gifts for me with gifts given to others through me... and then masterfully leads me to a place where I am able to see and appreciate all of His genius through it all.  I am exactly where I need to be, doing exactly what I need to be doing right now and I am so, so content.  It makes me smile.

In two separate conversations with two women I talked to today... both women mentioned things that had happened in the past... things which they'd either stumbled upon or remembered recently, which they told me had really blessed them.  One of them was from an activity that we'd done in small groups.  On one side of a piece of construction paper I had each woman write down 3 things they didn't like about themselves... and on the other side wrote down "[insert name here] is beautiful because...".  We took turns writing down on that side... all the reasons why we thought this woman was beautiful... and then I collected all of them, laminated them and gave them back to each woman.  Those who have received laminated "gifts" from me... you know how I love to laminate things.  :)  I didn't even remember doing this activity, but my friend found it recently and brought it to share with us at lunch.  Now I wished I could find mine.

So I went home and went looking for mine... I couldn't find it but I found another little booklet that I'd also made for my small group members... for us to write our weekly notes and reflections as we went through this book called "calm my anxious heart".  Chapter 3 was entitled "content to be me".  I wrote down that my personality was quiet, strong and determined... and that I always get what I want.

I laughed.  I laughed because a few days ago, I met up with someone else and I remember telling her that God always gives me the desires of my heart... even the silly things.  It's just another way of saying that... I always get what I want.  I guess some things... haven't really changed.

A few things that I wrote down on the little booklet that have changed... are the things that I was bitter about back then.  I wrote down that I was bitter that I was not outgoing and that I don't get along with people.  I also wrote down that my life purpose was to support Anderson.  I wrote this almost exactly 2 years ago.  Before I was married.  Before I was widowed.  If I think about that girl that I was back then... I... cry.  I cry for her... knowing what she's going to go through... knowing the pain and sorrow she's going to have to endure in the near future... and I also cry for her because... I know that she's just about to find the greatest love note of her life.  And... I'm excited for her.

I recently answered a question... to describe a time in your life... a defining moment... when God has revealed Himself to you and you knew you were never the same after that.  I always come back to that one day... after having being widowed... that I woke up and gasped... and suddenly realized that my entire life... all the people that came in and out, the relationships that came and went, all the events that happenchanced (or so I thought) into my life's path... were all love notes left for me... and while I enjoyed some and cursed some others... at that one moment... everything clicked and I realized who had Authored those notes... and then I realized that I was so lavishly loved... and to whom I was meant to be with.

That for which she longs
is that for which she belongs - Linda Dillow

I also read about the 2 blind men who called out to Jesus.  Jesus stopped and asked them, "what do you want Me to do for you?"

Why would he ask that?  Is it not completely obvious what they want?  Their heart's desire is for their greatest deficit to become restored and made whole, complete, and functional again.  Maybe He just wanted them to ask.

And then I thought about myself.  If you were to look at me... look at my life... if you had to say, "oh that girl there... that's the [fill in the blank]"... what would you fill in that blank for me?

Am I... the nurse?  Am I... that Asian girl?  That bio major? The one who writes those long, boring blogs? What would you say, really?  I want to know.  Curious.

For me... the characteristic that stands out most to me... the aspect that has defined me more than any other... is... that I am a widow. 

And what would the widow ask for?  Like the blind men... I think any widow would ask for his/her greatest deficit to be restored.  It is that for which our hearts ache for, isn't it?  The situation that we wake up to every single day and wish that it weren't so? 

Sometimes, I think I fear asking for it.  I know I have.  But I asked it in timidity... and then moved on as if it were some shameful thing to ask for.  Is that how you would ask for the greatest desire of your heart?

Put the first things first and the second things will be added to you.  Put the second things first and you will have nothing. -me paraphrasing James Shin

Hm.  I'm having a hard time ending this.  I'm not super sad but it's starting to sound that way.

Let me see... what did the blind men say to Jesus... they said, "Lord, we want our eyes to be opened."  Did they say that because it had a double meaning or did they want both their literal and figurative eyes to be opened by the only One who could do both?

For me... how would I ask it...  more than just the literal... if when we were married... the two became one flesh, one heart, one mind... and then the one became half... then... would I ask for my half to be made whole again?  I should seriously ponder what I ask, especially since... God's been saying "as you wish" so very often to me.

Maybe... even more amazing... is the day that I realize that I truly love Him back... and instead of asking Him... I say instead... "as You wish".  And let that be all I ever say to Him.  :)  Cue music.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4njxT5idas

choosing to go

I'm so thankful.  I'm glad to be home.  I'm glad that I got the chance to go to the east coast and see friends.  I'm just so very... thankful and happy.  :)

I spent the past week in Boston/New York.  I even got a bonus day in New York.  I'm glad I got my bonus day.  I'm also glad that I was more tired on bonus day so I could spend more time thinking and being quiet... and also contemplating patience.  I had nothing planned, nothing really to do on my bonus day... no one to see or meet up with... it was mostly just me.  And Joyce too. 

This trip was the first time I was in NYC without a constant companion.  I was definitely with people and I met up with people constantly but I had no one to follow, no one to guide me at all times, no cell service in the subway... and I got lost quite a lot... and went the wrong way on the subway... kind of a lot too.  I felt... alone and on my own.  It was my responsibility to get myself where I needed to be with no one to rely on but myself and google maps.  But it was a good thing.  I think... given how many times I've been to New York, it's pretty much time that I figure things out for myself... and given the amount of time that's gone by since Anderson's passing... it's also pretty much time for me to brave the world on my own.  Or at least try to. 

I spent a lot of time waiting for the subway trains.  As I was waiting today... I thought about how waiting for the subway is a little bit like... life.  I like the subway.  It's fun.  It's also kind of dirty and a little bit nasty at times but... generally... I like it.  It's also quite a challenge for me. 

I like standing on the platform... and hearing the sound of the train coming.  I close my eyes and wait for that first gust of wind that hits me in the face as the train speeds by.  It's refreshing.  Sometimes it's stinky, but I kind of like it.  I close my eyes to enjoy the moment... and I also close my eyes to keep things from flying into my eyes and causing irritation.  As the train's arriving, I open my eyes and search for which train it is.  Then I need to make a decision... whether or not to get on.  Choices.  Decisions.

For some people... who go the route often... or who live there... the decision is second nature and it's easy.  For me... it's hard.  I'd much rather follow someone who knows where they're going.  I wonder if I'm naturally a follower and not a leader... I just... haven't really trusted many people to lead me because the majority of them have disappointed me.  People will always let you down.  It is definitely more worthwhile (and logical) to put my trust in Someone who will never let me down rather than in people who always do.  Nowadays... I have a lot more peace, joy and confidence in following the God who has proven Himself faithful and true... who will never lead me astray... never guide me in the wrong direction... who I have confidence that what He does is not out of selfishness or self-serving motivations... but that it's all done out of love... with my best interest at heart.  It's a good system for me.  I like it.  But even though He's chosen me and He will never leave me... I still need to choose Him on a minute by minute basis sometimes.  To be aware of my choices and decisions.. to be intentional and not live an autopilot life of ambivalence, apathy, or general unawareness... this is the better way to live, I think. 

Some choices are easier than others.  Sometimes it's easier because I've been there before and have taken that route... experience, I guess.  Other times, what makes a choice easier is when I come prepared, having studied the map and directions so I know what's coming... I know which direction to go... and sometimes the internet will tell me exactly what time the train is supposed to come so I'm even more prepared and confident that this particular train is the right one to take.  Reminding myself frequently and checking the map all the time... are ways to give me more confidence in my decision-making... although studying the map and knowing the directions and preparing my route... doesn't actually take me to my destination.  It's definitely a part of it... but I still have to choose a train and take it in real life.

Standing on the platform with my eyes closed... I can hear a train coming... much like most of us can use our senses to know when a decision is coming up.  I feel like sometimes... that refreshing gust of wind is almost like the first time God speaks to me.  Usually that gust of wind... so refreshing... blows me away... and it also lets me know that a decision is coming.  When it first hits me, that's when it hits me with the greatest force... and then it dies down.  It's always strongest the first time.  The longer I wait on it, the less impact the wind has on me... the less it gets my attention... the more I can just let it pass me by.  If I never opened my eyes, I could just let the train pass on by.  When I do open my eyes... I see the train, I see the doors open and the opportunities present itself.  If I'm prepared... I can walk through with confidence and just take the train.  If I'm prepared but I don't trust myself or I'm afraid of making a mistake... I can just stand on the platform and miss an opportunity. 

I've gone the wrong way many times on this trip... and also many times on the journey that is my life.  All the wrong way does... is cost me a little bit of time and sometimes a little bit of money... but generally... the time is what is most costly.  But you know what? Sometimes that time... the decision to get off the wrong train and go the right way... the time on the train making up for how far I've gone in the wrong direction... it's usually worth it.  It's also an opportunity in and of itself.  It's an opportunity for me to sit and learn... to pay attention to the stops and the warning signs that I'm going the wrong way so that maybe next time I won't make the same mistakes again.  Also, it might be more opportunities to meet people... to think... to ponder... to listen to a song... but mostly to pay attention.  And I also have confidence that now I'm going the right way cuz I've double checked... maybe triple checked... maybe I've parked myself right in front of the map so I can stare at it just to make sure.

For some ppl, the delays might be upsetting.  They might complain the whole way, but there really isn't much to complain about.  Making the wrong choices and reaping the consequences of it... well... they go hand in hand.  Been reading through the minor prophets lately and yes, God promised destruction and desolation... but why? because it was the consequence of Israel's disobedience... and failing to heed the frequent signs and warnings... and the road maps posted everywhere along the way.  Sometimes it's not punishment or bad luck... sometimes it's a consequence.

And then again... sometimes... things are way out of my control.  If the train doesn't come, I'm delayed and it had nothing to do with my choices.  If air force one has landed at JFK and grounded all flights... that's also out of my control.  If the plane's lavatories aren't functioning and it needs maintenance... that's a delay that was also out of my control.  If a thunderstorm rolls in and pretty much shuts down the airport... well... there's nothing I could do about that either.  All I could do is make the most of the situation... do my part... and wait.  I stayed an extra night in New York because of all those things that were out of my control.  I spent hours (I think 5 total) on the plane with the other passengers.  I had to rebook my flight on my own... no one was going to do that for me.  I had to call in to work and tell them I couldn't make it to work the next day because the next available flight I was able to take wouldn't get me home in time.  After I did all those things... all I could do was to enjoy the wait.

I don't know why I still have so many of these thoughts and also why God has given me the ability, the boldness, the internet... to share these thoughts with you.  I met a guy on the plane who said I had the personality to teach (as a professor).  I don't really know what that means or what kind of personality it takes to teach.  I never really thought I'd have the patience to teach... but maybe I've grown some this past year.  Is this teaching?  Is this more like sharing?  I feel a little like Amos when he said... he's just a herdsman and a grower of sycamore figs. But the Lord took me from following the flock and the Lord said to me, "go prophesy to My people Israel".  OK, I'm not exactly a herdswoman... but somehow I do feel as if I've been plucked out of following the flock and God has given me little messages for other people.  Maybe.  Or maybe they're more for myself, primarily, and you all get to benefit from them too.

Reading my own blog entries and my emails from the past few years... has been a great encouragement to me.  Also... I don't think that anyone can speak to me the way God can... so reading about my thoughts after a particularly strong "gust of wind"... speaks directly to ME, my personality, my tendencies.. my strengths and weaknesses... so writing down what God has told me is my way of remembering and reminding myself... and also encouraging myself when things don't seem to be going well... or if I'm feeling particularly hopeless... or if I just need to remember the lessons I learned so I can prevent myself from making the same mistakes again. 

I feel like this post has been a little on the boring side.  I really wanted to encourage those of you who are still reading... to just go all out.  Go for it.  Seize the day, take the opportunities that come your way... if you feel like studying the directions/map a little more... ok... do it... but at some point... you're just going to have to commit and do it... start going where you need to be going and don't stand paralyzed on the platform.  More opportunities will come at a later time, but why wait for the next one when there's an open door in front of you?

And also for those of us still waiting... waiting is definitely a part of life.  Enjoy the wait.  :)  Enjoy the wait with me.  I'm enjoying my singleness, although I also yearn to... not be single.  I'm enjoying this time I have to visit ppl and travel.  Being single is lovely... but it comes with a different kind of struggle than being in a relationship.  If this is what I've got to struggle with... I'll just enjoy the pluses and be thankful I'm protected from the minuses for the time being.  I'll take whatever as it comes... if it comes. 

In the meantime... there are amusing things to smile at.  Mmm... smiling at New Yorkers sometimes gets me very odd responses.  I did a sort-of social experiment... to smile at people and see their reactions.  Some neighborhoods, more people smiled back.  Sometimes people don't even look at me.  I got the creepiest "how you doin', sweetie" once.  Yikes.  And there was another guy on the street who almost chased me down (I walk really fast)... and told me that I was beautiful.  I don't know what his motivations were or his intentions exactly... well... I guess handing me his phone to put my number in was indication enough... but at least someone said I was beautiful... even if it wasn't exactly sincere.  Some of you may remember from earlier posts about how sensitive I am to hearing that word in particular.  So it was nice to be surprised and reminded... even on the street... from an unlikely source at an unlikely place.  A little encouragement at a time when I didn't feel particularly beautiful or "wanted".  Yeah.  That's how I'll choose to remember that moment.  And laugh at it too. 

OK.  Tired.  Looking fwd to sleeping in my bed for the first time in 8 days.  Sorry if nothing makes sense.  I feel like I've been awake for a very, very long time. 

<3,
Tiff

Solid

I don't even know where to start.  I guess I'll just start with a bunch of random thoughts and maybe it'll become something coherent.

be solid gold, not gold-plated. - Jon Szeto.

Jon said that in a message he gave a few weeks ago.  It really stuck in my head.  I think a lot of the Christian life is spent polishing our outsides and not as much on the transformation of the worthless stuff underneath.  We should be striving to be solid gold through and through.  I think what's interesting is that something gold-plated will look solid gold until it is tested.  Also... there are probably non-gold chunks mixed in the middle somewhere that only God can see, reveal, and transform.  Interesting.

On a related note... while I was in Boston, I ate dinner with friends there at a Thai restaurant. We sat next to the fish tank and there were various tropical fish swimming around in there.  We had fun making comments on a bunch of them... but one of them... we looked at it and thought it was a puffer fish... but on closer inspection... realized that it was not.  Just a lookalike.  Maybe I don't know what a real puffer fish really looks like but all 3 of us thought it was one.  We thought about scaring it to see if it was real... but we didn't do it.  We discussed it tho.  How sometimes there are animals that have these natural "protection" against predators... like the puffer fish and also the monarch butterfly.  Somehow other animals know that these animals are dangerous or poisonous so they avoid them.  But what IF that fake puffer fish was in danger of being eaten and it couldn't puff up?  Well... it'd get eaten.  When push comes to shove, it's just a lookalike.  The real thing would have been protected.  The fake ones get destroyed. 

All of these thoughts kind of came together as I read through the book of Daniel today.  Daniel was brought to Babylon (I think) as a captive of Judah... I think.  Sorry, it's been a long day.  Anyway... so Daniel and his 3 friends were chosen for training to serve King Nebuchadnezzar in his royal court... because those without defect, who were intelligent in every branch of wisdom, endowed with understanding and discerning knowledge... were chosen.  Basically, they were the hottest, smartest young men...G.Q. ... so hot that they'd be recruited and taken out of a life of being a second-class citizen for service in the king's court.  They must have looked exceptional according to the king's eyes... or whoever was looking at them for the king. 

So they were grouped together with the other wise men of the land.  La la la, living their lives... they did choose not to eat of the king's food and follow their Jewish diet.  To abstain and obey in the midst of indulgent plenty... the wisdom in their choice was visible in their physical appearance.  Obedience to the God who is the author of all wisdom and knowledge... is a very good choice... even if the reasons why aren't clear at the time. To obey the wisdom of God is a million times better than worldly wisdom.  Anyway, back to the point... the testing. 

The king had a disturbing dream and asked the wise men to interpret it.  Anyone can BS an interpretation... but the big problem was... that the king didn't remember his own dream.  He wanted the wise men to tell him his dream AND the interpretation.  They were like... tell us the dream and we'll tell you the interpretation.  He was like... YOU tell me the dream and the interpretation.  And they were like... we can't!  It's impossible!  No man on earth can tell you your dream! 

What is impossible with man is possible with God. 

So the king was very mad at his "wise" men.  They weren't wise at all.  They were fakers.  Real wise men would be able to do what he asked.  So the king decreed to kill them all.  Daniel heard of it and right away said that to hold off on killing everyone... that he would tell the king the dream and the interpretation.  I'm pretty sure I'm remembering it right but feel free to correct me if I'm off.  Daniel was the real deal.  He KNEW that God could do it and he already told the dude that he was going to do it... even before he actually knew the dream.

That is faith, yo.  That is acting in faith.  He coulda waited until God revealed the dream first and THEN went and told the king's messenger that he had the answer... but he acted first and THEN went and told his friends and they prayed about it... asked God for compassion on them.  Now I'm not advocating that you act before you pray... but I'm guessing that Daniel was already praying at least 3x a day, everyday and that his faith was solid... and his confidence in the Lord and His abilities... was solid as well.  He didn't just go to God when there were problems... Daniel went to God all day long.  That's probably why he could act first.  Not sure.  But maybe. 

Long story short... Daniel was the real deal, solid gold.  When put to the test, Daniel was protected and not only saved himself and his friends from being put to death... he saved the posers as well.  That's hot.  He also acknowledged that no man could do what the king asked, but that God could and did.  He gave all the glory to Him.  More hotness.

Switching gears... Saturday was Yom Kippur and my friends and I went to morning service at a nearby temple in Boston.  I've been wanting to go visit a temple for a long time.  I read about the Israelites... everyday.  I wonder about the remnant of Israel.  I wonder how much of the things that God established to do in remembrance of His actions for His chosens... the deliverance of His people... the feasts... all these things... I wonder if they're still being remembered... still practiced... if it still has meaning for them.  I wanted to go visit but I didn't really want to go alone.  Aaaand... the only reason I know that last week was Rosh Hashanah and this past Saturday was Yom Kippur was because it's marked on my Dodger calendar and I looked it up because I didn't know what they were.  I wondered if Jewish New Year was like Chinese New Year.  We don't get days off for Chinese New Year, but we do celebrate it.  I wondered.  I have no answers.  So my friend in Boston said that there were a lot of Jewish temples in Boston so when my other friend asked me what I wanted to do on Saturday... I said... "I wanna go to Yom Kippur service" and being the awesome host that she is... she went and found one for us to go to.  She even looked up some of the things about it.  Like they were supposed to wear white... not wear leather... not drink things or eat certain things.  We tried wearing white... just to be culturally sensitive and to not "stand out" as much... but we still stuck out like 3 sore thumbs anyway.  I was very aware of my Asian-ness that morning we walked into that temple. 

But we were greeted by a very nice woman.  Another man also gave us a quick run-down of where to sit, etc.  It was nice.  Another man showed us what page in the prayer book they were on.  That was nice too.  My friends and I had a discussion afterwards about how the service made us feel.  I felt a mixture of things.  Mostly... I had a lot of questions.  And I also felt... sad a little... and... incomplete.  I wondered how I'd feel sitting in reverence with a small remnant of Israel... contemplating my sins on the Day of Atonement.  It felt... impersonal.  And I felt... alone.  The whole Day of Atonement... was missing something... and I think... it was missing Jesus. 

I was still thinking about it on Sunday, a day later.  Still have lots of questions.  Maybe I'll try googling the answers one of these days.

So... Sunday service... I went with my friend to Redeemer... Tim Keller's... on the upper east side.  I wasn't really sure about how to feel about this service.  I know I wanted to go see and hear... but I've also never read any of Keller's stuff... never heard any of his sermons... so far, it's all been good things I've been hearing from other people but have not experienced any of it myself.  It actually surprised me that I was more excited to go to temple than to go to Christian service.  But how I felt afterwards... so, so different. 

There weren't that many people at temple.  And there was assigned seating.  At Redeemer... it was in a HUGE auditorium and there were a LOT of people there.  We got a half-smile from a greeter when we walked in.  I really felt like I could have come in and gone out and nobody would have noticed.  Very different from our experience at the temple. 

We sat down and it was almost claustrophobic.  Their program is also... a booklet.  Singing the songs with musical notes... almost felt like I was in choir.  It was kinda nice though... so even if you didn't know the song you could sing along if you can read music.  The testimony that one of the members gave was funny and enjoyable.  But I think what I really enjoyed the most was... listening to Keller speak.  The message today... really spoke to a lot of the things I've been thinking about lately... about us being a chosen people... a holy priesthood... about us yearning for God after having experienced Him, about being a true Christian who has wonder and delight in the gospel, about the pervasiveness of God's love and the gospel... and even about Hosea (which I JUST read today again) and God loving us and redeeming Israel (and us) out of our harlotry... about the importance of community.  I just felt so... at home.  Like my heart was in the right place... with people who share that same unity... with other people who have (or may have) a growing relationship with Jesus.  It was so comforting.  I really almost wanted to go have a chit chat with Tim Keller over a cup of tea about God and how awesome He is... and also about what ways I was reminded and challenged today.  It was really really nice being there. 

I was also super encouraged... to persevere in my current community back at home.  It's been hard being at a new church... meeting new people but not really having deep relationships there.  Every time I go to Cornerstone, I'm so blessed by the teaching and preaching... but at times, the community aspect has been discouraging me.  I kept telling myself to give it time... also since I work every other weekend and also sometimes on Thursdays so I can't make it to care groups... that it's harder for people to get to know me because they don't see me as frequently.  I also know that I may or may not always have a great first impression... and sometimes it feels like I'm making a new first impression every time I go. I still haven't been able to find it without the help of the GPS even though I've technically been attending since June.  I'm pretty sure I can find it the next time I go on my own tho. 

I know quite a few people who are church hopping... and also people who keep hoping that starting some new study or a new accountability is going to jump start their spiritual walk.  Community is super important... but it really is my relationship with God that comes first... and the community and shepherding only help me grow or give me opportunities to minister to others.  Jesus is more than enough to meet every need of mine... but I was reminded today that God can meet me in a body of believers and through the preaching and teaching of a shepherd in ways that cannot happen in my own times with God alone.  God loves me, but He also loves His people and He wants His people to be gathered together... unified in His name... I wrote about it before... how I love it when I read when God says that [Israel] will be my people and I will be their God. 

Today in Hosea... it was a little different.

God said: You are my people!
And they will say: You are my God!

That's so awesome.  I can't quite express the joy in my heart... in looking fwd to the day when all of God's people will by gathered from where they are scattered... and we'll all say, "You are my God!" corporately and as one voice... united in heart and soul.  It makes me all bubbly inside.  :) 

K... it's late.  Better sleep.
<3,
Tiff

won over

I haven't been blogging as much as I used to.  I haven't felt the need to as much, but I do kind of miss it.  There are very many profound thoughts that pass through my mind on a daily basis... many of which do not get developed and formed and molded because I just let them pass.  There's something about writing out my thoughts... I'm not sure why but maybe it's just the way God created me... that I need to write things out in order for my thoughts to develop and/or bloom... or for the hazy clouds to fade away and reveal a clarity that can only be achieved (for me) through seeing my own thoughts typed out on the screen. 

Anyway... I've been having thoughts this week and I didn't want to let this one pass.  I wanted to share them with you all and also to put it down into words to remind myself over and over again whenever I forget. Sometimes it seems like hour to hour, my memory needs refreshment.  So here goes:

I've been crying a lot lately.  I used to cry every few days.  I don't know when I stopped crying like that, but there was a dry spell for a few weeks, maybe last month.  The dry spell was accompanied by very great joy so I didn't mind much, but it did feel strange not to have things move me to tears everyday or every few days... even in a good way.  There was one day where I should have cried.  I wanted so badly to cry.  And no tears came out.  I felt stifled.  I was frustrated.  I was lacrimally constipated.  I hate that. 

I like crying.  I don't like it so much when it makes people uncomfortable or weirded out, but in general... I like crying.  It reminds me that I'm human.  That I feel things and I feel them deeply.  I never want to lose that.  And I always used to tell my small group members... "you know it's a good day at [small group] when someone cries".  It's when we're the most vulnerable.  It's when our hearts either joy or (more usually) hurt for one another...when we share moments of deep mourning or deep pain... and that's a beautiful thing.  Doesn't happen by accident or everyday. Quite a phenomenon.  I like it.  It's good stuff. 

The past week, I think... I've been feeling emotionally volatile.  More depressed than normal.  More... something... unexplainable... but definitely emotionally derived. 

Monday, I went with my parents to visit my in-laws who just came back from Taiwan.  I'm very blessed with very awesome in-laws.  I haven't always appreciated them to the fullest, but I know they're awesome and I know that I'm very, very fortunate to have them.  That being said, I almost relate to them like I relate to my grandparents.  I love them, I know I do.  But I don't speak their language so I can't communicate with them.  I have a level of respect for them, but rarely any intimate moments or any form of connection with them.  Usually, they just tell me to eat up, listen to my parents, do well in school (now to do well at work), and be a good girl.  This is pretty much all they've ever told me my whole life.  Generally... that's almost what my in-laws tell me too.  But for some reason... this visit was different.

I walked into their house and immediately felt the emotional whirlpool stirring.  Swirling?  Something was moving.  When I went to sit down on the couch, I saw one of our wedding pictures framed on the side table.  I saw it and I had to look away.  I couldn't bear to look at his face at that moment.  I sat on the couch and for some reason, I remembered us sitting on that very same couch.  Actually it might not have been that specific couch, but we were there.  Sitting together.  Probably holding hands.

Actually, I have a picture of us and it does look like the same couch.  Or maybe this wasn't even in the same house... maybe it's the house next door. 

At the time, we were taking pictures of the model home that their parents just bought (and the ones next door).  Whenever we looked at those model homes, we'd sit and talk about the house that we'd one day have.  How we would have this and that... we'd critique the kitchen and say what we'd change about this or that.  We'd take pictures of the furniture and say, "ooh, let's get that one for our house".  I don't know why out of all the times I'd gone to their house, I'd never remembered those moments like I remembered them that particular day.  I felt the tears well up in my eyes but I decided to fight them back and just go home and cry in the comfort of my own bed, with my own lotion-infused tissues that I bought especially for my frequent night cries.

At first, it didn't seem like the tears would be too hard to fight back. My parents and my in-laws were conversing in... different kinds of Chinese.  My mom was speaking in half Cantonese, half Mandarin... maybe half the time saying Cantonese words with a slightly different tone and hoping that my in-laws would understand.  My in-laws were speaking Mandarin with some English words thrown in here and there.  I started to zone out.  I stared at the other pictures on display.  There were some framed pics of the valentine dinner we went to a few weeks after getting married.  Our picture wasn't there, but there were pictures of my in-laws and my nephew.  It reminded me of our days as happy newlyweds.  My heart started to ache again.  Look away.

At some point, my in-laws stopped talking about business and Taiwan and started talking about Anderson and me.  They said that he had a good heart.  I don't understand much, but I understood that much.  They also said that it would be OK if I got married again.  They said that if I wanted to have a new boyfriend, that I should.  That they look at me like their own daughter, I was still young, and above all else, they wanted me to be happy and they knew that he would want me to be happy too.  I lost it at that point.  The tears fell slowly at first.  And then more rapidly as my mother-in-law rushed over to wipe the tears from my eyes and hold me in her arms.  She said something...something...something... daughter... don't cry.  Oh man.

Wave after wave of emotions washed over me.  Not even all the same category either.  Some waves of guilt and regret over the moments of frustration and annoyance that I felt for them at times when I was living with them last year. Some waves of grief over seeing parents mourn over their beloved son.  Mostly... waves of love that made all other emotions, however still present, fade in comparison.

I have never had a full-on conversation with my in-laws.  Love was shown through gifts, service and actions and not so much words and never very intimately.  I've heard that they've said before that they loved me because they saw the love that I had for their son.  They saw me sacrifice my whole life for him and they saw that it was special and good.  I'm not sure what, if anything, got lost in translation... but... I'm thankful that if anything, they were won over by love and not by words, by politeness or well-mannerisms (because heaven knows I wasn't and didn't have any), by beauty, by Chinese-ness, or by any other characteristic.  They loved me for my love.  Maybe.  I don't know.  And now... even in the absence of their son, my beloved husband, they still love me.  They love me enough to put my happiness above their grief.  They love me enough to honor their son's requests to take care of me and to make sure that I was happy... to put aside the memory of their son as my one and only husband... and possibly see me give that same love to someone else... a stranger to them... but perhaps the next love of my life.  It pain-pangs me to even think of placing another man in a similar role or place in my heart as Anderson once held, even though I feel the draw to fill that hole in my life nearly every day since it was created.

After we left my in-laws... barely sniffling at that point... my mom told me another tidbit she learned from their conversation.  They sold their house in Taiwan.  Part of why they sold it was because there were too many memories there.  And part of the memories they wanted to put away were... the things that Anderson bought and prepared for me... things that he intended to share with me by taking me on a honeymoon to Taiwan.  If I thought I'd bawled at my in-laws' house... I was in near convulsions on the car ride home.  I hadn't cried to the point of hyperventilating in a very, very long time.  I was wailing; I was coughing and gasping for air.  Anderson hadn't been to Taiwan since maybe... 2005 or 2006?  I can't remember.  The fact that he bought things for me... that he had been preparing to take me there... to honeymoon in Taiwan (what a weird place to honeymoon, in my opinion...) but the thought that he loved me enough at that point to do that... 3-4 years before he even proposed... before we got married... oh my goodness... I fell in love with him all over again.  I felt so, SO loved... and also... so, so alone.  My love... my husband... the man I'd waited for all my life... the one-in-6-billion who sought me out... picked me out of the sea of Asian girls at UCI... not the prettiest, not the smartest, not the skinniest, probably a little taller than he could handle... the one with the harsh words, oblivious to her surroundings, who rudely slammed doors and took things with one hand... the one who had no finesse...the crazy Christian girl who broke up with him every week until he believed in Jesus... the one who put him through the craziest emotional roller coaster of his life... but the girl he somehow loved anyway... all our hopes, all our dreams... gone and never to be realized... never fully formed... never brought to fruition... like the thoughts that I never blogged.  Emptiness.  Longing.  Grasping in futility for what will never be.

I realized... that I was still mourning.  I may always mourn him a little bit here and there... for as long as I live.  I don't know.  After I got home... I reached out to a friend I hadn't ever chatted with and was ministered to in ways that I'd never experienced yet... by the heart of another widow my age... who was also still mourning the loss of her beloved.  I felt so blessed in all my misery.  There was that joy that I always feel when I know I've arrived at a divine appointment arranged by the Most High.  I was there for my friend as she was there for me.

I realized today... a few days after the cry-fest... that I've also been mourning the loss of my best friend.  Not only Anderson... but the loss of having that one person with whom I share all the intimate details of my day... my happy moments, my sad ones... the things I struggle with... the things that make me happy.  The loss of one man who takes care of me in that way...oh man, it hurts.  I've had a best guy friend (definitely not the same one) in my life since high school.  I've a history of combusting these types of relationships.  Almost always, they end up having feelings for me and I somehow combust the relationship.  If I ever return the feelings... I date them and I combust the relationship.  I'm a combuster. Anderson was probably the strongest, steel drum under which my combustions could occur and somehow diffuse over time... under the protection of his love, his words, his arms. I know that I combust relationships... and yet, I've nearly always had one to combust.  Not so anymore. 

I wish to avoid future combustions as much as possible.  But... I still yearn to have my best friend back... or another one to take his place.  Why does it have to be a guy?  I don't know.  Maybe it doesn't.  Maybe it seems like all the girls already have best friends and so there's none left for me.  Or maybe... God just doesn't want me to rely on just one person.  He likes to keep me on my toes... keep me living by faith... or maybe... He wants me to really, really realize... that He is all I need and He is all I've ever needed and He is all I will need for as long as we both shall live... and I know that in Him... it is forever and ever.  Forever and always, just like I'd always hoped for the love of my life and me.

God's provided me with such awesome friendships.  I didn't even know how beautiful some of these friendships would be to me when they were forged oh so many years ago.  People I met 10...15 years ago... 5 years ago... 2 years ago... 6 months ago... people I've known my whole life... all of these people minister to me.  Nearly everyday, someone either takes care of me... makes me laugh... eats with me... talks to me... listens to me... gives me gifts (ok not every day for the gifts but it happens here and there).  I have very many friends surrounding me... amazing people... beautiful people... loving people... smiling faces... people who want to see me and/or hang out with me... people who text-versation with me while I'm out and about or who chat with me when I'm sitting at home in my PJ's with my glasses on and retainer in.  I may have lost a best friend, but I have gained so many great ones. And all of this in addition to finding the greatest Love of my life in Jesus.  He is more than enough for me... and He has provided more than enough for my needs.  Need I ask for more?  Probably not... but my heart still yearns for it... so I will pray for it... acknowledge it... and leave it up to Him for whether or not another one is in the plan for me.  His plan is perfect.  His plan is better than mine and I trust wholeheartedly in that.  If I remain single the rest of my life... I know that it is the best for me.

This feels like a very long one so I'll just stop developing my thoughts and end it with one last closing one.  There was this one devotional in Streams in the Desert... about a woman who had a cross around her neck and didn't like it.  She looked at someone else's... it seemed so much more ornate and prettier than her own.  She put it on and it was way too heavy.  It weighed her down and was uncomfortable.  There was another one...beautifully covered with flowers... she also put it on and found that the thorns from the flowers pricked her something terrible. She picked up her own cross and put it on... and found that it was the perfect weight, the perfect size... and it somehow became beautiful in her eyes because she knew that this cross was made specifically for her... unique to her tendencies... unique to her strengths and weaknesses... and she rested content in knowing that someone created it just for her.  I may have embellished or skipped over a few parts, but I know I've got the gist.  I am uniquely equipped, born for and bred to live my life and my life only.  I may see the beauty in other people's lives, but their lives are theirs and they come with weights or thorns that I cannot see and am not equipped to handle.  Loving and being thankful for what I've got comes from knowing and realizing that (1) this life is a gift of love to me... a gift I don't even deserve... (2) that in all wisdom, sovereignty, grace, and love... God orchestrated it and created it... formed it and molded it... in His perfect timing... in His perfect way... exactly, purposefully, lovingly prepared just for me.  I love that.  I appreciate it.  And I'm thankful for it.  I'm won over by His love.

Night!  (or good morning actually...)
<3,
Tiff