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
Friday, September 24, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
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.
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
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
Friday, September 10, 2010
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
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
Saturday, September 4, 2010
breakeven
I was listening to the radio a while ago and this song came on... and for some reason this line stuck with me.
...when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even.
the song continues... what am I supposed to do when the best parts of me were always you. What am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're OK. I'm falling to pieces.
I dare say that the vast majority of us have suffered through heartbreak... and in particular... this kind of heartbreak. If you have never suffered through a breakup (or more specifically... being dumped) or have never liked someone who didn't like you back... if all of this is foreign to you and you have no idea what I'm talking about... please hope that you'll never understand this. Consider yourself extremely blessed.
Heartbreak... may always be uneven. I think there's probably always one person who's more ok than the other. Always one person who feels more left behind. Always one person who moves on first. And sometimes... the other person doesn't even know the other one's hurting. Or maybe since we feel our own pain more acutely... we always feel like we're the one that's suffering the most. If when a heart breaks, it don't break even... we always feel like we, ourselves, are left with absolutely nothing... and the other person has walked away with everything. And without our heart... that's been ripped out of our chests... our whole lives fall to pieces.
Sometimes, I feel like I've been dumped on my whole life. Dumped on or left behind. Dumped by boyfriend #1. Dumped by boyfriend #2. And left behind by husband. How much more heartbreak can one woman take? Every time my heart broke I didn't think I'd ever get it back again. I never thought I'd feel whole again... I never thought I would feel anything more than shattered, used up, and worthless. Especially after losing the love of my life. I gave him my everything. My heart, my body, my mind... when you marry, you become one. One flesh. One mind. One heart. All the best parts of me were because of him and without him... how could I ever be anything again?
I remember feeling this way. I also remember waking up one day and realizing that... I was loved. Loved with a perfect love. I was loved and chosen before I was even born. And that Someone had been waiting for me to realize it... my whole life. He had been hinting in small ways for years and years and years and finally when I was ready, He hit me with His love in ways that were of epic proportions. And then I knew... that the heartbreak was all for a reason... all for a purpose... it was all to point me back to Him. So that I would finally open my eyes and see that His arms had been extended and He had been waiting for me. He was waiting for me to realize that I am His and to make Him mine. It is the greatest love story of my life. Greater than the Tifferson story. And the Tifferson story is a pretty decent one, if I say so myself.
I love reading about God's love story. I love seeing God's heart and reading about the promises He makes to His people.
They will be My people and I will be their God. I absolutely LOVE reading that line. It's the line that tells me that God wishes for, longs for, and makes promises for His people. This is a God that loves His people. And because I am His... I also read it to say... that Tiff will be Mine, and I will be hers. I love being loved!
I used to love it when Anderson would hug me tight and say "you're MINE". There is no greater feeling in the world than the feeling of being loved. It makes your heart want to sing. It's what oh so many songs and poems have been written about since the beginning of time.
And for a woman to be loved by a man... it is indescribable. It is the closest thing on earth that God gives us to heaven, I think. And it is also the relationship in which we can experience passionate love. Did you blush? All-consuming passion... like a burning fire... a love that awakens your heart and soul. A love that makes you a better person. A love in which you would be willing to sacrifice everything for... throw caution to the wind and run relentlessly towards.
I've experienced this heaven on earth. In my marriage. And now in the absence of my marriage... God has blessed me to experience this heaven on earth with Him. And yet... there is still a part of me that wants to love a man again. And this is my struggle. To have tasted a beautiful marriage... to know it, experience it... and also now to struggle again with singleness and that yearning to be held again... to be called "mine" by another man. Actually, if I could have it my way, I would want to be Anderson's again. I would want his arms forever around me claiming me as his. To see him again, I will just have to wait until we meet in the clouds. Here on earth, that yearning is very much a reality as much as I wish it weren't.
I could probably write a whole other super long blog about yearning and singleness and how I deal with it... but since I started this blog on the topic of heartbreak... I'll finish it on heartbreak.
Would it be wrong to say that the strength of your love is in direct proportion to the devastation of your heartbreak? That being said... to a God who loves with an everlasting love... an undying love... a self-sacrificing, unconditional love... the strength of His heartbreak far outmatches any heartbreak we can ever experience with the feeble love that we are able to give. The heartbreak we experience here on earth... is but a tiny drop of the heartbreak that God experiences when we leave Him, when we are unfaithful to Him... when we slap Him in the face by saying He is not good enough, has not provided enough, is not ENOUGH.
I don't know when adultery or infidelity or unfaithfulness is ever a good thing. Maybe to a philanderer... but always sucks to be the woman that's left behind or cheated on. Generally, most people would consider cheating on someone to be a grave offense. And yet... we look on it so lightly when we cheat on God. We are the ones that are cold and heartless. The ones who have taken the marriage vows, lived in His home, slept in His bed, eaten the food He's provided... and then turn around and say that we want more or turn around and say that what He's lavished on us is not good enough. To Him who knows all and sees all and therefore knows what is the best for us... to complain about it... is to not trust, not have faith. It is so hurtful.
God has shown us time and time again in scripture... in the story of believers all across countries, across time, across age... that He is good. He is faithful. He has and will take care of all our needs. He promises us the abundant life and what He promises, He delivers. He even risked it all to show us His love before we even knew to love Him back. How dare I NOT trust Him. How dare I NOT be faithful to Him. How dare I think that I know what's better for me than He does.
He has promised me. He loves me. He will always take care of me. And if I am widowed and single right now... I know that it is exactly where I am supposed to be right now. There is something for me to learn, someone for me to minister to... somewhere, some situation, something that necessitates that I be exactly where I am at this very moment. And I trust in that. I have hope in that. I do my best on a day to day basis to do what I know I need to do and trust that God'll take it the rest of the way. And through it... I hope that I would be found faithful.
To be continued, I guess. I need to sleep.
Oh and just as an aside... I probably have NOT been dumped on my whole life. I'm pretty sure I've done my fair share of heartbreaking and I'm SORRY. If I could do it all over again, I would and I would try my best to not break someone else to pieces. Being gracious is probably a whole other blog entry too. For another time then.
<3,
Tiff
...when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even.
the song continues... what am I supposed to do when the best parts of me were always you. What am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're OK. I'm falling to pieces.
I dare say that the vast majority of us have suffered through heartbreak... and in particular... this kind of heartbreak. If you have never suffered through a breakup (or more specifically... being dumped) or have never liked someone who didn't like you back... if all of this is foreign to you and you have no idea what I'm talking about... please hope that you'll never understand this. Consider yourself extremely blessed.
Heartbreak... may always be uneven. I think there's probably always one person who's more ok than the other. Always one person who feels more left behind. Always one person who moves on first. And sometimes... the other person doesn't even know the other one's hurting. Or maybe since we feel our own pain more acutely... we always feel like we're the one that's suffering the most. If when a heart breaks, it don't break even... we always feel like we, ourselves, are left with absolutely nothing... and the other person has walked away with everything. And without our heart... that's been ripped out of our chests... our whole lives fall to pieces.
Sometimes, I feel like I've been dumped on my whole life. Dumped on or left behind. Dumped by boyfriend #1. Dumped by boyfriend #2. And left behind by husband. How much more heartbreak can one woman take? Every time my heart broke I didn't think I'd ever get it back again. I never thought I'd feel whole again... I never thought I would feel anything more than shattered, used up, and worthless. Especially after losing the love of my life. I gave him my everything. My heart, my body, my mind... when you marry, you become one. One flesh. One mind. One heart. All the best parts of me were because of him and without him... how could I ever be anything again?
I remember feeling this way. I also remember waking up one day and realizing that... I was loved. Loved with a perfect love. I was loved and chosen before I was even born. And that Someone had been waiting for me to realize it... my whole life. He had been hinting in small ways for years and years and years and finally when I was ready, He hit me with His love in ways that were of epic proportions. And then I knew... that the heartbreak was all for a reason... all for a purpose... it was all to point me back to Him. So that I would finally open my eyes and see that His arms had been extended and He had been waiting for me. He was waiting for me to realize that I am His and to make Him mine. It is the greatest love story of my life. Greater than the Tifferson story. And the Tifferson story is a pretty decent one, if I say so myself.
I love reading about God's love story. I love seeing God's heart and reading about the promises He makes to His people.
Ezekiel 11:19 I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh. 20 Then they will follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. They will be my people, and I will be their God.
They will be My people and I will be their God. I absolutely LOVE reading that line. It's the line that tells me that God wishes for, longs for, and makes promises for His people. This is a God that loves His people. And because I am His... I also read it to say... that Tiff will be Mine, and I will be hers. I love being loved!
I used to love it when Anderson would hug me tight and say "you're MINE". There is no greater feeling in the world than the feeling of being loved. It makes your heart want to sing. It's what oh so many songs and poems have been written about since the beginning of time.
And for a woman to be loved by a man... it is indescribable. It is the closest thing on earth that God gives us to heaven, I think. And it is also the relationship in which we can experience passionate love. Did you blush? All-consuming passion... like a burning fire... a love that awakens your heart and soul. A love that makes you a better person. A love in which you would be willing to sacrifice everything for... throw caution to the wind and run relentlessly towards.
I've experienced this heaven on earth. In my marriage. And now in the absence of my marriage... God has blessed me to experience this heaven on earth with Him. And yet... there is still a part of me that wants to love a man again. And this is my struggle. To have tasted a beautiful marriage... to know it, experience it... and also now to struggle again with singleness and that yearning to be held again... to be called "mine" by another man. Actually, if I could have it my way, I would want to be Anderson's again. I would want his arms forever around me claiming me as his. To see him again, I will just have to wait until we meet in the clouds. Here on earth, that yearning is very much a reality as much as I wish it weren't.
I could probably write a whole other super long blog about yearning and singleness and how I deal with it... but since I started this blog on the topic of heartbreak... I'll finish it on heartbreak.
Would it be wrong to say that the strength of your love is in direct proportion to the devastation of your heartbreak? That being said... to a God who loves with an everlasting love... an undying love... a self-sacrificing, unconditional love... the strength of His heartbreak far outmatches any heartbreak we can ever experience with the feeble love that we are able to give. The heartbreak we experience here on earth... is but a tiny drop of the heartbreak that God experiences when we leave Him, when we are unfaithful to Him... when we slap Him in the face by saying He is not good enough, has not provided enough, is not ENOUGH.
I don't know when adultery or infidelity or unfaithfulness is ever a good thing. Maybe to a philanderer... but always sucks to be the woman that's left behind or cheated on. Generally, most people would consider cheating on someone to be a grave offense. And yet... we look on it so lightly when we cheat on God. We are the ones that are cold and heartless. The ones who have taken the marriage vows, lived in His home, slept in His bed, eaten the food He's provided... and then turn around and say that we want more or turn around and say that what He's lavished on us is not good enough. To Him who knows all and sees all and therefore knows what is the best for us... to complain about it... is to not trust, not have faith. It is so hurtful.
God has shown us time and time again in scripture... in the story of believers all across countries, across time, across age... that He is good. He is faithful. He has and will take care of all our needs. He promises us the abundant life and what He promises, He delivers. He even risked it all to show us His love before we even knew to love Him back. How dare I NOT trust Him. How dare I NOT be faithful to Him. How dare I think that I know what's better for me than He does.
He has promised me. He loves me. He will always take care of me. And if I am widowed and single right now... I know that it is exactly where I am supposed to be right now. There is something for me to learn, someone for me to minister to... somewhere, some situation, something that necessitates that I be exactly where I am at this very moment. And I trust in that. I have hope in that. I do my best on a day to day basis to do what I know I need to do and trust that God'll take it the rest of the way. And through it... I hope that I would be found faithful.
To be continued, I guess. I need to sleep.
Oh and just as an aside... I probably have NOT been dumped on my whole life. I'm pretty sure I've done my fair share of heartbreaking and I'm SORRY. If I could do it all over again, I would and I would try my best to not break someone else to pieces. Being gracious is probably a whole other blog entry too. For another time then.
<3,
Tiff
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Randoms on hope, I think...
Too many thoughts again. Overwhelming actually. But very many mini-thoughts and not exactly a few huge ones.
Definitely no plan to this blog post. Just going to empty my head.
Hope.
It's been something that has been hitting me over and over again in small ways here and there for the past month or so.
I think it started when a co-worker asked me what my sign was so that he could look up my horoscope after he'd just finished looking up his own. I thought it was amusing and interesting. He seemed awestruck at how accurate his horoscope was even though it only appeared to tell him the events of his day yesterday.
Driving home, I think I was listening to the radio and there was an ad playing for the best psychic hotline reading you'll ever have. People seemed to gain confidence by having someone who didn't know them, tell them what to do in order to have a successful new relationship or guide them through their current situation. I think one woman said that she was so excited to start her new relationship with the steps she had to take in order to make it happen. It gave her confidence and boldness. I'm really not sure what the psychic could have said other than some form of "go for it" but... yeah. I dunno. It really hit me at how desperate people are to have some form of guidance or direction... to have someone tell them what to do... to proceed into the future with confidence and hope... not fearing the outcome but looking forward to what lies ahead... because they know that what lies ahead are good things. I'm very certain that no psychic is going to promise destruction and calamity. Who would pay for that? Seriously?
Everyone wants to know that everything's going to be OK. Everyone wants to have a happy ending. Very many times, people already know what to do to get there... but are also very unwilling to do what it takes to get there. A quick and easy way to getting what you want. Instant gratification. It does have appeal. In weighing whether or not something is worth it... sometimes people are willing to pay a high cost for convenience. I know that since I've been working, I've been more likely to just pay a little more to save me some time and hassle. But sometimes... some things... are not worth it. Some things are worth the investment. Some things are worth taking the slow, the narrow, the road less traveled. Persevering. Knowing which things are worth it and which aren't... I'm not sure how one arrives at being good at making those distinctions. Wisdom? Experience?
Very lately, I think I've been noticing that the people around me are suffering a great deal. Health problems, relationship problems, life problems... I'm sure at any given moment a lot of people around me are suffering but the past few weeks, I think I've been moved more than usual. My heart goes out to them. The area between my eyebrows finds itself furrowed when I remember them. At times, I also find myself in a very... odd state. It feels like my heart is weeping but... my eyes are not. Sometimes my eyes weep too but the mourning is going on... deep inside. It is like... silent wailing. Sometimes... it is all I can do to put my hand over my heart and somehow telepathically send out my heartfelt emotions. Sometimes I can write out an email and send it. Sometimes I can reach out and offer a hug. Most of the time, there is nothing I can do or say... very little that I can offer or give. So I wait. I wait for opportunities... I wait for... something. I wait for them to reach out in such a way where I can meet them where they're at. In the meantime, I wait and pray... and hope for them from afar. I cannot offer comfort to everybody. Not everyone likes me, my particular brand, style, or method. I've also been brutally rebuffed lately and it has put me in my place and reminded me that I reach out because God wants me to... regardless of whether or not it is received well or at all. Between me and God, I know I did what I needed to do at the moment and that's OK.
Kinda reminds me of what I read today in Ezekiel. It's not really the same, but... the same principle.
Seize the day then. Life is too short not to tell someone what they need to know... whether it be a warning... whether it be that you love them... do tell.
Anyway... going back to hope... I think I used to wish that I knew what was going to happen in my life. If only I knew what I was supposed to major in... if only I knew who I was supposed to marry... if only I knew what career path to take... life would be so much easier, wouldn't it? Would it be easier because we knew that we weren't taking the wrong path? Or would it be easier knowing what direction to take? I think I wanted to know more because I was afraid of failing more than anything else. I wanted to take the path that would guarantee success... to avoid the humiliation of failure... maybe to avoid wasting time and money... maybe to have some form of achievement or accomplishment... to look good in front of everyone else. Yeah. I think that's pretty much how I lived for most of my life. Fearing failure and wanting to be looked up to and respected.
I think... maybe what life has taught me lately... or maybe it was the work of God through suffering... was that I don't need to know what's going to happen, only to know that where I am right now, what I'm doing right now... is all part of God's plan. There are so many things that I can't change, and also so many things that I can. The things I can't change... those are things that are not up to me to change so there's no point in getting upset about it. I accept the fact that Anderson is no longer here. I was shuffling through some papers today and I found his death certificate. Funny thing. It looks almost exactly like our marriage certificate... but the words are just different. His immediate cause of death was a malignant brain tumor (3 years from onset to death). Other contributing factors... leptomeningeal tumor spread (3 months from onset to death), and brainstem invasion by tumor (3 weeks from onset to death) with obstructive hydrocephalus as the significant condition contributing to death. Staring at it... I think... I was feeling that... internal conflict... the clinical fascination from who I am as a nurse... and then also... the silent wailing from the fact that the love of my life... the end of his life... all the meaning... all the love... everything that was HIM... was quantified on a piece of paper in 4 little lines... filled out in probably 5 minutes by Dr. Azeem. Just some paperwork to finish at the end of someone else's workday. I wonder if his heart moved a little when he wrote those words. I wonder if my face flashed before his eyes... the tears he saw me spill... the life he knew that would be changed forever because Anderson Chen ceased to live as a result of obstructive hydrocephalus, despite all his efforts to keep him alive. Or was it just... paperwork?
A friend recommended the show BostonMed to me the other day. I felt like vegging out a bit and so I watched an episode. It was about how one man's failed heart transplant resulted in another man's face transplant. I felt for the wife of the man whose heart transplant failed. Her husband died from a massive cerebral hemorrhage. The hope that she must have had... in getting the news that her husband was going to get a heart transplant were so quickly and abruptly shattered when her husband never woke up from his surgery. To go from one day feeling that your life was going to start all over again and then a day later to be the complete opposite... to be widowed... it was... heartbreaking. I'm sure they put him on life support as they waited to harvest organs. I remember looking at Anderson... his body was technically alive... I could still touch him... he was still warm... but I knew he wasn't there. He wasn't my husband anymore. I think the nurse asked me if I'd be willing to give his eyeballs for organ donation. I said sure. They ended up not being able to because he'd been on the vent too long. In BostonMed, the transplant people asked the wife if she'd be willing to offer up her husband's face to someone who needed one. I can't imagine making that kind of decision right after losing the love of her life... the father of her children. Eyeballs vs. face. No comparison. Even in watching the surgeons... the doctors... the residents... the nurses... I know that many of them were happy for the man receiving the face, but the vast majority of them were more interested in the fact that they got to see the first face transplant in the history of New England than the fact that this man's life had just ended right as he was on the brink of receiving everything he'd hoped and dreamed about for years and years and years.
At the end, the widow said that she was glad to know that something good came of this... that her husband's death meant so much hope and a new life for the man who got the face transplant. She said that it took the edge off a little bit. I really don't know how she got in front of a camera and was able to say those things. She must be a very strong woman or a master of disguises... because the devastation she must have been undergoing in the midst of all of that... is truly incapacitating. I know. I felt it. I still feel it sometimes. But everyone is different. Not everyone grieves the same way I do. Not everyone would be as utterly destroyed as I was. And definitely not everyone would have come back from all of that to be who I am today.
Sometimes, I don't even recognize myself anymore. I feel like I look different, I dress different, life is SO different... my google calendar is filled with very different things... but most of all, my heart is so different now. I don't know if you know but I know. I know how I used to be. I know how I used to feel. I know how I used to think about people and... there was very little love there. I NEVER told anyone I loved them. I said it quickly to my family members... it was more obligatory than anything. I remember friends saying it to me and I really... could not say it back. The words would literally NOT come out of my mouth. The only person with whom I actually said and meant the words, "I love you" was to Anderson. Now... it's very strangely a very normal part of my vocabulary. I really don't say it if I don't mean it. And the fact that I say it so often means that I have a lot of love for so many people and I really want to let them know it. I know where that love comes from. It's not from any source on this earth. It is proof to me that nothing is impossible for God. People don't change. They really don't. Actions might change, but the heart... hearts have been the same since the beginning of time. Changes... come from God. The fact that hearts can change gives me hope that I am never stuck, that life can always be better, more abundant, more full, more colorful, more beautiful... irregardless of the circumstances I find myself in. Isn't having the abundant life... finding beauty, joy, peace, love... even right smack in the middle of the most horrible things the world can throw at you... isn't that infinitely more valuable than only ever getting what you want? You THINK you'll be happy when you get these things... but... that means your happiness is dependent on things. You should want to be happy... self-sustaining... independently happy because that is just the way you are. You can be happy when things are going well, happy when things aren't. Nothing can take it away from you. It is yours.
Anyway... life is too short to worry about the things you can't change and life is too short NOT to start changing the things you can. Just go for it. What do you have to lose anyway?
I... think I have more thoughts but they've kind of run out for now.
Lamentations 3
22 Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
23 They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
24 I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."
25 The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
26 it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.
Definitely no plan to this blog post. Just going to empty my head.
Hope.
It's been something that has been hitting me over and over again in small ways here and there for the past month or so.
I think it started when a co-worker asked me what my sign was so that he could look up my horoscope after he'd just finished looking up his own. I thought it was amusing and interesting. He seemed awestruck at how accurate his horoscope was even though it only appeared to tell him the events of his day yesterday.
Driving home, I think I was listening to the radio and there was an ad playing for the best psychic hotline reading you'll ever have. People seemed to gain confidence by having someone who didn't know them, tell them what to do in order to have a successful new relationship or guide them through their current situation. I think one woman said that she was so excited to start her new relationship with the steps she had to take in order to make it happen. It gave her confidence and boldness. I'm really not sure what the psychic could have said other than some form of "go for it" but... yeah. I dunno. It really hit me at how desperate people are to have some form of guidance or direction... to have someone tell them what to do... to proceed into the future with confidence and hope... not fearing the outcome but looking forward to what lies ahead... because they know that what lies ahead are good things. I'm very certain that no psychic is going to promise destruction and calamity. Who would pay for that? Seriously?
Everyone wants to know that everything's going to be OK. Everyone wants to have a happy ending. Very many times, people already know what to do to get there... but are also very unwilling to do what it takes to get there. A quick and easy way to getting what you want. Instant gratification. It does have appeal. In weighing whether or not something is worth it... sometimes people are willing to pay a high cost for convenience. I know that since I've been working, I've been more likely to just pay a little more to save me some time and hassle. But sometimes... some things... are not worth it. Some things are worth the investment. Some things are worth taking the slow, the narrow, the road less traveled. Persevering. Knowing which things are worth it and which aren't... I'm not sure how one arrives at being good at making those distinctions. Wisdom? Experience?
Very lately, I think I've been noticing that the people around me are suffering a great deal. Health problems, relationship problems, life problems... I'm sure at any given moment a lot of people around me are suffering but the past few weeks, I think I've been moved more than usual. My heart goes out to them. The area between my eyebrows finds itself furrowed when I remember them. At times, I also find myself in a very... odd state. It feels like my heart is weeping but... my eyes are not. Sometimes my eyes weep too but the mourning is going on... deep inside. It is like... silent wailing. Sometimes... it is all I can do to put my hand over my heart and somehow telepathically send out my heartfelt emotions. Sometimes I can write out an email and send it. Sometimes I can reach out and offer a hug. Most of the time, there is nothing I can do or say... very little that I can offer or give. So I wait. I wait for opportunities... I wait for... something. I wait for them to reach out in such a way where I can meet them where they're at. In the meantime, I wait and pray... and hope for them from afar. I cannot offer comfort to everybody. Not everyone likes me, my particular brand, style, or method. I've also been brutally rebuffed lately and it has put me in my place and reminded me that I reach out because God wants me to... regardless of whether or not it is received well or at all. Between me and God, I know I did what I needed to do at the moment and that's OK.
Kinda reminds me of what I read today in Ezekiel. It's not really the same, but... the same principle.
3:17-19 "Son of man, I've made you a watchman for the family of Israel. Whenever you hear me say something, warn them for me. If I say to the wicked, 'You are going to die,' and you don't sound the alarm warning them that it's a matter of life or death, they will die and it will be your fault. I'll hold you responsible. But if you warn the wicked and they keep right on sinning anyway, they'll most certainly die for their sin, but you won't die. You'll have saved your life.It's kinda like... all we're called to do is tell. Whether or not other people receive it, is not really our responsibility. But if we know and we do not tell, then it's on us. This relates to sharing the gospel, most definitely... but it also relates to obedience. Knowing what you need to do and not doing it... that's on us.
20-21 "And if the righteous turn back from living righteously and take up with evil when I step in and put them in a hard place, they'll die. If you haven't warned them, they'll die because of their sins, and none of the right things they've done will count for anything—and I'll hold you responsible. But if you warn these righteous people not to sin and they listen to you, they'll live because they took the warning—and again, you'll have saved your life."
Seize the day then. Life is too short not to tell someone what they need to know... whether it be a warning... whether it be that you love them... do tell.
Anyway... going back to hope... I think I used to wish that I knew what was going to happen in my life. If only I knew what I was supposed to major in... if only I knew who I was supposed to marry... if only I knew what career path to take... life would be so much easier, wouldn't it? Would it be easier because we knew that we weren't taking the wrong path? Or would it be easier knowing what direction to take? I think I wanted to know more because I was afraid of failing more than anything else. I wanted to take the path that would guarantee success... to avoid the humiliation of failure... maybe to avoid wasting time and money... maybe to have some form of achievement or accomplishment... to look good in front of everyone else. Yeah. I think that's pretty much how I lived for most of my life. Fearing failure and wanting to be looked up to and respected.
I think... maybe what life has taught me lately... or maybe it was the work of God through suffering... was that I don't need to know what's going to happen, only to know that where I am right now, what I'm doing right now... is all part of God's plan. There are so many things that I can't change, and also so many things that I can. The things I can't change... those are things that are not up to me to change so there's no point in getting upset about it. I accept the fact that Anderson is no longer here. I was shuffling through some papers today and I found his death certificate. Funny thing. It looks almost exactly like our marriage certificate... but the words are just different. His immediate cause of death was a malignant brain tumor (3 years from onset to death). Other contributing factors... leptomeningeal tumor spread (3 months from onset to death), and brainstem invasion by tumor (3 weeks from onset to death) with obstructive hydrocephalus as the significant condition contributing to death. Staring at it... I think... I was feeling that... internal conflict... the clinical fascination from who I am as a nurse... and then also... the silent wailing from the fact that the love of my life... the end of his life... all the meaning... all the love... everything that was HIM... was quantified on a piece of paper in 4 little lines... filled out in probably 5 minutes by Dr. Azeem. Just some paperwork to finish at the end of someone else's workday. I wonder if his heart moved a little when he wrote those words. I wonder if my face flashed before his eyes... the tears he saw me spill... the life he knew that would be changed forever because Anderson Chen ceased to live as a result of obstructive hydrocephalus, despite all his efforts to keep him alive. Or was it just... paperwork?
A friend recommended the show BostonMed to me the other day. I felt like vegging out a bit and so I watched an episode. It was about how one man's failed heart transplant resulted in another man's face transplant. I felt for the wife of the man whose heart transplant failed. Her husband died from a massive cerebral hemorrhage. The hope that she must have had... in getting the news that her husband was going to get a heart transplant were so quickly and abruptly shattered when her husband never woke up from his surgery. To go from one day feeling that your life was going to start all over again and then a day later to be the complete opposite... to be widowed... it was... heartbreaking. I'm sure they put him on life support as they waited to harvest organs. I remember looking at Anderson... his body was technically alive... I could still touch him... he was still warm... but I knew he wasn't there. He wasn't my husband anymore. I think the nurse asked me if I'd be willing to give his eyeballs for organ donation. I said sure. They ended up not being able to because he'd been on the vent too long. In BostonMed, the transplant people asked the wife if she'd be willing to offer up her husband's face to someone who needed one. I can't imagine making that kind of decision right after losing the love of her life... the father of her children. Eyeballs vs. face. No comparison. Even in watching the surgeons... the doctors... the residents... the nurses... I know that many of them were happy for the man receiving the face, but the vast majority of them were more interested in the fact that they got to see the first face transplant in the history of New England than the fact that this man's life had just ended right as he was on the brink of receiving everything he'd hoped and dreamed about for years and years and years.
At the end, the widow said that she was glad to know that something good came of this... that her husband's death meant so much hope and a new life for the man who got the face transplant. She said that it took the edge off a little bit. I really don't know how she got in front of a camera and was able to say those things. She must be a very strong woman or a master of disguises... because the devastation she must have been undergoing in the midst of all of that... is truly incapacitating. I know. I felt it. I still feel it sometimes. But everyone is different. Not everyone grieves the same way I do. Not everyone would be as utterly destroyed as I was. And definitely not everyone would have come back from all of that to be who I am today.
Sometimes, I don't even recognize myself anymore. I feel like I look different, I dress different, life is SO different... my google calendar is filled with very different things... but most of all, my heart is so different now. I don't know if you know but I know. I know how I used to be. I know how I used to feel. I know how I used to think about people and... there was very little love there. I NEVER told anyone I loved them. I said it quickly to my family members... it was more obligatory than anything. I remember friends saying it to me and I really... could not say it back. The words would literally NOT come out of my mouth. The only person with whom I actually said and meant the words, "I love you" was to Anderson. Now... it's very strangely a very normal part of my vocabulary. I really don't say it if I don't mean it. And the fact that I say it so often means that I have a lot of love for so many people and I really want to let them know it. I know where that love comes from. It's not from any source on this earth. It is proof to me that nothing is impossible for God. People don't change. They really don't. Actions might change, but the heart... hearts have been the same since the beginning of time. Changes... come from God. The fact that hearts can change gives me hope that I am never stuck, that life can always be better, more abundant, more full, more colorful, more beautiful... irregardless of the circumstances I find myself in. Isn't having the abundant life... finding beauty, joy, peace, love... even right smack in the middle of the most horrible things the world can throw at you... isn't that infinitely more valuable than only ever getting what you want? You THINK you'll be happy when you get these things... but... that means your happiness is dependent on things. You should want to be happy... self-sustaining... independently happy because that is just the way you are. You can be happy when things are going well, happy when things aren't. Nothing can take it away from you. It is yours.
Anyway... life is too short to worry about the things you can't change and life is too short NOT to start changing the things you can. Just go for it. What do you have to lose anyway?
I... think I have more thoughts but they've kind of run out for now.
Lamentations 3
22 Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
23 They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
24 I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."
25 The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
26 it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.
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