Freedom to Fly

An odd random... I have 129 posts on this blog and today is 1/29 and I'm 29 today.  K.  That's it.  :)

I love buffets.  I don't love all buffets... but my sister-in-law took me to a BBQ buffet and that was pretty awesome. While at the BBQ buffet, we were reminiscing about the mediterranean buffet and the brazilian BBQ in Houston that we miss.  Last week, I had tea at the Huntington... it's all-you-can-eat.  Yummy open-face smoked salmon sandwiches.  A few days ago, I went to the Shakey's lunch buffet with Laurie. That was pretty awesome too.  I got too many fried chickens.  They were so yummy and juicy and crunchy.  And mo jo potatoes.  Yum yum yum.  Looking fwd to Korean BBQ with a few friends next week.  :D  All-I-can-meat makes me happy.

I don't necessarily pig out at a buffet.  Lately, I've only been eating until I'm at about... 75% capacity and then I stop myself.  It's a good feeling of being full, but not stuffed.  I think it's more that I get to choose what I want to put on my plate and you don't get to look at me funny if I get a whole plate full of pineapple chunks.  It's my choice.  Freedom to choose.  Love it. 

I had a thought the other day.  I almost just let it pass but after the events of today... (or more like yesterday), I don't think I should. 

So I was heading out of the house to go to work the other day and I heard a noise.  I saw a bird in our house.  It was hopping along the ledge of a window that we have... way up high... dunno what it's called... a vaulted ceiling or something but it was probably at least 10 feet high. It's the window above our front door. It was pacing back and forth on the ledge.  Obviously restless, nervous.  Banging its head against the window every now and then.  I'm almost always pressed for time when I'm off to work so I did make an effort... I tried to get its attention.  I clapped.  I yelled, "hey birdie!"  What? Don't judge. You never know. Maybe an English-speaking bird flew into our house that day.  Might as well give it a try.  It didn't work.  I had no time.  I had to leave.  I figured someone else would have to deal with the birdie that night. 

I got in the car and started driving to work.  On the radio, the dude was saying how much God loves us.  No matter what bad things we've done, no matter how many times we mess up, no matter WHAT... God loves us and His love is more than enough.  He said that there's something special and amazing about living up to a love that we already have... as opposed to trying to earn a love that we don't have.  There is so much freedom in the former and so much fear in the latter.  So true.

So I thought about that birdie.  I really wished that...that birdie would have just listened to me.  I wished that he/she would have heard me, listened, and flown 5 feet down and out of our house.  I had its best interest at heart.  But... I can't blame it.  It didn't even seem like it heard me.  I might have needed to resort to physical force to get it down from there.  I'm sure it would have fought me or the net or whatever I had to use to get it down.  I'm sure it would have beat its wings against me, maybe even clawed me, scratched and bit me (do birds bite?) because it might have thought it was going to die.  But... it would have been wrong.  The momentary captivity would have been for its own good.  Seriously.

But God is loving and patient.  He waits.  He doesn't have to rush off to go to work... He would have stood there and waited and He would have kept on trying.  He would have wanted the birdie to listen to His voice, like I wanted the birdie to listen to mine.  He's not short like me either.  He could have reached up, grabbed the birdie in two hands with the most gentlest of touches... brought the birdie down and then released it outside, where it belongs. 

This is how I imagine God caring for me.  All this joy and freedom I've experienced this past year and a half or so... this is me being released out into the world.  Free.  Happy and free.  Thankful for His love.  Thankful that while there was a time when I might have feared that my life was over... that it really wasn't.  The darkness was His hands covering me... teaching me, molding me... His Words speaking to me in the most gentlest of tones with the most powerfully poignant words of grace and lovingkindness.  I imagine Him holding me in His hands... whispering into my ear.  Teaching me, reassuring me... to trust Him.  He knows what's best and His plans and timing are perfect.  I hope I listened.  I hope I trusted. 

The person that I am now is not the same person that used to pace back and forth on a window ledge.  I'm no longer that birdie who looks out and sees the world through foggy glass... wishing I were out there and not in here...jealous of the other birdies who seemed to be enjoying their freedom while I was stuck in a place I thought I'd never escape.  I am no longer resigned to observing other people's joy... observing other people spreading their wings and flying... downtrodden, frustrated and bitter... thinking that I was born stuck in a place I never wanted to be, stuck in a body that couldn't seem to fly, with dull, colorless feathers.  This is not who I was meant to be, but this is how I saw life. 

I was explaining to my friend about purpose... about fulfilling the purpose for which we were created.  This isn't perfect, but it's how I see it.  A hammer is a hammer.  A hammer was designed to drive and pull up nails.  That is its purpose and that is what it was created specifically to do.  A hammer can be set on a table and used as a paper weight.  It is a fully functional paperweight... it's not the best paperweight, but it can do that job.  The hammer doesn't reach its full potential until it is wielded and utilized for its intended purpose.  Any thing with weight can hold down paper... not any old paperweight can drive a nail.  I used to use a mag light to drive nails in college.  That kind of worked... but not as good as a hammer would have.  A flashlight's a flashlight.  A hammer's a hammer. 

This birdie was meant to fly.  I have a heart that was meant to love.  I have hands that were meant to work.  I have a mind that was meant to be utilized.  I have lips that were meant to smile... a voice that was meant to encourage... to laugh... to speak truth.  I was meant to be a nurse.  I was meant to be a woman.  I was meant to be your friend.  I was meant to be Anderson's wife.  I was meant to be Tiffany Ng Chen, a lover, a caregiver, a daughter, a sister, a friend, (professional student?)... and most importantly... daughter of the Most High.  In Him, I am growing to reach full potential... flying high... having passion, love, peace, and joy that surpasses my understanding... far better than what I thought I was missing out on from the other side of that foggy glass.  I'm happy! 

I love it!  I want you to experience it too!  I want you to fly with me.  Fly with me, birdies! 

Unfortunately, the birdie stuck in my house did not come to the same happy ending.

I started cleaning my room a few days ago.  I put some unwanted clothes into big boxes... and I put them into the room adjacent to mine... planning on just closing the door and *poof* it disappears for a while.  My mom wouldn't let that happen.  She's been on a cleaning rampage lately.  She says that when she sees a mess, she cleans it.  I am quite adept at making messes so she found my new mess and decided to clean it.  She asked me which bags/boxes I wanted and which she could donate.  As I was sorting... I saw something and I screamed. 

Birdie was legs up next to one of my bags in that room.  UGH.  Gives me shivers just thinking on it. 

My mom was like "no wonder there was poop all along the doorway..." as I was still jumping and squealing and freaking out about birdie. 

It hit me that although God is patient and loving and kind... there isn't unlimited time for us to ignore His voice and "not listen".  NOW is the time to stop pacing, stop banging my head against the glass, and listen to the voice of the One who wants me to fly.  Finding oneself feet up, alone, amongst bags of unwanted clothes is a very harsh reality... ok actually the true reality is much worse than being legs up with my clothes... but... yeah.  You get the gist.  There should be double motivation to listen to His voice... firstly, for the promise of abundant life... secondly, to avoid the alternative... if not eternal damnation and condemnation, but a life lived in captivity... in the likeness of one who will end up in a not-so-lovely place. 

My birthday wish for all of you is that you will fly with me... that you will spread your wings, revealing all the beautiful colors with which you were created... and soar high in the glorious sky... that you would experience all the desires of your heart coming true before your very eyes... that the transformation of your character would be nothing short of miraculous... that your eyes would see His glory, your heart would feel His love... and that you cannot help but to overflow that love onto everyone around you and help them to fly too. 

:)  Yes.  That's what I want for my birthday.  I want for you to fly with me.  :)

<3,
Tiff

eclipsed by glory

Today would have been our 2-year anniversary.

I don't know how to embed the video but in case any of you are feeling like reminiscing with me... here it is again...

Tifferson Wedding Video

How am I doing?  Well.  Just about the same as yesterday.  The dates don't really matter all that much... I still miss him every single day that we've been apart and I allow myself to feel everything to the full extent of however I feel it... and I told someone yesterday... it's like I take a more daily-maintenance approach than a buildup/blow-up approach to my grief.

And very honestly... it feels like a lifetime ago.  I was a different person back then.  I'm a different person now.  Life has changed so much.  I really have to force myself to remember.  2 years.  Unbelievable.  

I still read my Inheritance article every few weeks.  It reminds me whenever I forget.  And I like looking at the pictures.

Anyway... I shed a little tear (or two) as one of my dearest friends shared this song with me.



How He loves

He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

And oh, how He loves us so,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all

Yeah, He loves us,
Oh! how He loves us,

Oh! how He loves us,
Oh! how He loves.

We are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking.
And Heaven meets earth like an unforseen kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest,
I don't have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about, the way

how He loves us

Anderson reminds me how He loves us.  That is what I want to remember today.  However dark and heinously horrible the afflictions were... they have all been eclipsed by His glory.  I'm happy.  Very, very happy.

If the pants fit...

OK. So.  It's been a while.  A lot has happened and I know I always say that, but seriously... a lot has happened since the last time I posted.

Since I really do feel like this blog is a very trusted and important friend, I feel so bad that I've been so exhausted the past few weeks that I haven't updated you yet... and especially that some of you who still read are finding out on fb about what's been going on in my life lately... I feel extra bad.  Almost like hearing from the grapevine when I should have told you myself.

I've started a doctoral program.  In nursing.  Yes, I will be a doctor nurse.  No, that doesn't mean that I'm a medical doctor... there are many, many kinds of doctors.  But if I finish this program, I will be a doctor of nursing practice (or a DNP). 

I'm sitting here in a Starbucks with my nursing theory book by Janie B. Butts (teehee) and I probably should be doing some reading or starting on my assignments... but... sometimes... I just need to take care of these little things before I feel free to take care of the big things.  I know it goes against everything you know about prioritizing and all that... but sometimes... if it'll take me a shorter time to get something small done... I'll do that small thing first.  Blogging is one of those "small things" that I just want to get done before I get started on other work.

So... unless you've talked to me in the last few months, you probably wouldn't even know that I was considering going to school again.  And don't feel bad about that.  It was barely an inkling of a thought until a few weeks ago.  Here's the story:

Sometime around November 1st, I had a little time at work (and this was probably the last time I've had any extra time at work... it's been mad crazy since that particular day) and everyone was talking about going back to school.  Some to get a BSN, some to get a masters... well... I already have my BSN and a masters... I figured... IF I were to go back to school, I might as well get a doctorate.

So my friend emailed me this a few days ago and I really did laugh out loud when I read it.

Girl, did you just equate your doctoral program to a pair of jeans?  -C.Wong, MPH

 Yes, I did.  And here's why.  I wasn't even sure I wanted to go when I started orientation.  I wanted to go and see if it "fit" before I committed to buying it.  Some people would decide that they want to buy a pair of jeans before they even try it on... I'm more of the kind of shopper that will try it on even if I'm not even sure I want to buy it... just to see what it looks like.  Some of you who have gone shopping with me... you know this.  Even though something looks weird or possibly crazy on the hanger... I'll still try it on... just in case.  Yes, I'll try on that orange satin one-shouldered ruffly dress... just in case I look awesome in an orange, satin, asymmetrical ruffly dress... and I never would have known that for sure unless I put it on.  I did NOT look awesome in that particular dress, but at least now I know with absolute certainty.

I recently bought a pair of jeggings.  LOL.  I love that word.  I think it's so funny.  Anyway... I thought about it and... I never thought I'd buy a pair of jeggings in my life.  I never thought I'd buy skinny jeans.  I thought back and the reason I bought jeggings was because they're comfy and they fit better than skinny jeans tucked inside knee high boots... and I bought skinny jeans specifically to wear with my knee high boots, and I only bought knee high boots because one of my roommates in college bought them and I tried hers on and I decided they didn't look too bad on me.  But prior to trying on those knee high boots... I never would have thought that I would even own a pair of knee high boots.  And... now I have a lot of boots.  And... a pair of jeggings.  There was a whole progression of purchases that led up to me having the guts to buy a pair of jeggings and... it all started 10 years ago with a dress up day my friends and I decided to have for fun... cuz that's what we used to do in college.  LOL.  Higher education.  Good times.

I don't think I would have been so nonchalant about applying to a doctoral program had I not already obtained so many degrees over the past decade.  Oh.  Here's something else I did recently...

I had to use a drill and a leveler.  I felt quite accomplished.  Not so much about the degrees, but that they're now on the wall.  With the tassels.  Even my "cum laude" medallion's in there.  I don't think it counts if I cum lauded my second bachelor's.

I realized that I've had a graduation every 3-4 years since 2000.  I'm scheduled to have another one in 3 years... right on time.  Must be some kind of pattern.  Hope I'm done after this.  I think I said that 2 degrees ago.

So... yes.  I was looking into BSN to DNP programs... if I want a doctorate, I might as well go straight and get one instead of getting a masters first and THEN a DNP.  There are very few BSN to DNP programs in the US.  Very few in California.  Maybe only 2 in Southern California.  And this particular program was the only one that I didn't have to relocate for. AND it had a program that I was interested in... adult acute care.  Ever since Houston, I thought that I'd wanted to end up in the ICU one day... as a nurse, not as a patient. One of the reasons I was OK with stopping my MSN program and taking a BSN was because I decided that if I wanted to get an MSN, I'd get one in something I really wanted instead of getting one for the heck of it in nursing leadership.  Also... I was tired of school and I just wanted to work and make some money for the first time in 5 years.  Also... I know I want to stay at the bedside.  I don't want to become one of those nurses that doesn't touch patients anymore.  It was really important to me that I still see patients and interact with them.  I didn't want to pursue a PhD for that reason.  I want to practice.  Doctorate of Nursing Practice... in acute care.  How perfect, right? 

I only found out about this program around November 1, 2010... poking around online at work. The priority deadline was November 1; final deadline for applications was December 15, 2010.  All the other programs had deadlines in March for Fall 2011.  I figured... I'll get more information.  If there's still space after I speak to admissions, then maybe I'll apply.  Well I found out a few days later that there was still room and that I should apply.  So I started the process.  Took me a month to get that essay written... it's kind of hard to write an essay about why you want to get a DNP when... you're not really sure you WANT a DNP... but I did it anyway.  Sometimes... I convince myself through my own persuasive writing.  Weirdness.  I actually had to research a little bit and find out what a DNP is... what an acute care nurse practitioner is exactly... so that I could write about why I want to be one.  A little backwards but... sometimes... I'm like that. 

You know what?  I've decided I'm NOT a good writer.  I just have a lot of stories.  I don't know if I tell them particularly well, I just have a lot of stories to tell.  OK back to the story.

So I submitted the essay after Thanksgiving weekend and basically just a waiting game to get my letters of rec submitted.  I always hate bugging people for letters of rec.  Also on such short notice... I asked 2 people who had to write me letters on very short notice last year during my application to Little Company of Mary... and also my work supervisor.  I had my 6-month evaluation a few months ago and I was hoping she could just copy and paste what they wrote about me from there into this letter... or worst case scenario, I'd take my evaluation, type it up and have her sign it and then submit it.  2 days before the program deadline, I only had one recommendation submitted.  I called my enrollment coach and she said that my application wouldn't go to review unless it was complete.  I figured... oh well.  They waived my application fee.  They also waived my GRE since I already had a masters degree.  I wasn't all that invested in it so I didn't lose much.  I'll just defer to another school or wait another year.  No big deal.  But why not just send one last reminder?  Might as well.

So I sent one last reminder email.  And what do you know... the other 2 recommenders submitted the recommendations that very night... a few hours after I sent the reminder... and only ONE day before the final application deadline. 

So my application went to review.  My enrollment coach told me she'd call me in 5 days.  She said they'd know by December 20th.  Quite surprising... but whatever... sure.  So December 20 came and went.  I was working so I didn't even really notice until December 22nd that I never got a call.  December 23rd I called the enrollment coach and her answering machine said that she'd be on winter break from December 23rd until January 3rd.  The program was due to start the first week of January so I figured I didn't get in because that's KIND OF important work to get done before you go on a long break... letting someone know whether or not they got in to a program that starts in a few weeks.

By Thursday, December 23rd, I was feeling pretty peaceful.  I can just enjoy the rest of my year... maybe I'll try to find that clinical instructor that said that their school needed help with clinical instructing... maybe I'll plan a few trips... who knows.  Sky's the limit for 2011.  At least I know they rejected me based on ME and not based on the technicality of an incomplete application.  A completely legitimate rejection.  Not God's timing for me.  I fully accepted that. 

December 24th... my mom wants to go get foot massages.  I turned my phone on silent.  Don't want to disturb a foot massage.  I'm gonna enjoy every last minute of that painful, yet lovely Chinese experience.  After my foot massage, I check my phone and I have a missed call from an Irvine number.  It was my program director calling to congratulate me on my acceptance into the BSN to DNP Adult Acute Care Nurse Practitioner program. I was really really happy... for a few hours. 

And then I started to freak out.  I got upset at myself for not even considering whether or not I really wanted to be an NP... wondering if I was smart enough to even BE a good NP... wondering if I was only meant to be a floor nurse.  I'm quite happy doing what I'm doing.  I know I don't want to do it forever, but I've only been a floor nurse for a little under a year and a few more couldn't hurt.  I had so many questions.  What if I'm in a cohort with a bunch of brilliant beyond brilliant nurses... with years and years of ICU experience... and I'm the dimmest light in the bunch.  And it's a doctoral program.  I'm guessing the cohort would be small.  I can't hide.  I can't just slide on by, unnoticed.  Really.  What if I'm not good enough?

I had a few experiences at work where I tried my absolute best and I just wasn't good enough.  I know that those things weren't really my fault but bottom line in those two instances where I got yelled at very not nicely... (1) I didn't get something done or (2) the patient called me a poopy (not the nice way) nurse and that I had an excuse for everything.  Everything ended up working out in those two instances... and I do want to write about them but... not today.  No time.  I had been majorly humbled though at work... that sometimes you try really hard and you do your best and... you're just not good enough... and that's OK.  I know I did the best I could.  No regrets.  I'm not perfect and I can't expect that I will ever be.  It still doesn't make hearing it hurt any less... but it does soften the blow if you do know your own worth.  I can remind myself... that it's not their opinion that matters... it's God's.  But to listen.  Listen to other people... even the worst kind of criticism is something that you can learn a lot from. 

So up until this point... I felt like I had put on the pants... and everyone around me was telling me that the pants look good on me... that they could totally see me in them... that it would be awesome... but I wasn't sure myself.  In the end, it's my pants.  I'm the one that's going to have to wear them... the one who has to buy them.  And seriously... who would tell me that they don't think I'm smart enough?  That might be something that someone keeps to him/herself and then after seeing someone drop out or fail... think to themselves... "oh I knew that would happen."  No one walks up to someone and tells them, "I don't think you're smart enough to pursue that dream of yours" or "that's just not right for you".  Well maybe some people do.  No one's ever told that to me. 

So... I decided that... I'd just go to orientation first.  See if it feels like it fits.  See if my questions and concerns would be addressed.  I hadn't decided whether or not I wanted to go yet.  Maybe kind of like a trial run... wearing the pants with full intent of keeping the receipt and returning it if ANYTHING at all rubbed me the wrong way or was too tight or... whatever. 

After meeting the dean of our program... I automatically liked her.  She's an amazing woman, an amazing nurse with incredible vision and drive.  After meeting my program director, who is also a brilliant and amazing nurse... a lot of my anxiety had dissipated.  My classmates are awesome people.  I love nurses.  I love that our profession is so varied... and also that since some people take a very long road to becoming nurses... they've picked up so much valuable experience along the way... and that we have enough time to have families... to have hobbies and interests... to be really interesting people over our lifetimes.  I cannot tell you enough how glad, thankful, happy I am to be a nurse... that God blew open that pathway and almost pushed me with a very strong wind that direction... and now to blow open this pathway and then blow me this direction again.

My first class is nursing theory and our professor is pretty awesome.  The class is VERY organized... more organized than any brand new program should be... but I'm so very thankful that it is.  I feel like... having gone this long way through my bachelors, through my MPH... through nursing school... has prepared me for this program.  We utilize Blackboard... just like we used at CSUF.  Our email is powered by google.  I've already taken nursing theory... I've already written a thesis... all of these experiences in the past will help me get through this doctorate program and I think that I would have been VERY overwhelmed... even more than I am right now if I hadn't already had those experiences... those stepping stones which have strengthened my legs for this journey.

And just to end this post because I'm already late in meeting up with someone... if I had any question about why I'm in this program... I think that they were answered after today's orientation day.  The dean of our school is heavily involved in international health and volunteering... and since she found out that me and my classmate are interested in doing things internationally... she's really going to try to make an opportunity available for us to go help the medically underserved internationally at some point in our program, possibly next year.  And then in thinking about my capstone project... I had to really think about my practice... my life experiences... and I remembered... my feelings when I came back from Houston... about how passionate I was to do something to improve the care of cancer patients and their caregivers.  I remember writing my concept analysis about it.  And after class, I developed some ideas for my capstone project.  After meeting with my director, I got more encouragement.  And after spending an hour talking with my classmates about Anderson and how the whole thing's affected my nursing practice and my life... I definitely think that... I am exactly where I need to be and everything in my life has prepared me for this moment.  I've had so many of these massive realizations of how God has prepared me for this precise moment in time all throughout my lifetime (well a whole lot in the past two years) and every single time, it's amazing to me how much He's loved me enough to guide me, teach me, and "blow me" in this direction... at the precise pace that I needed to go... no faster, no slower... just at a pace perfectly suited to me.  Isn't that so lovely?

Ok, I'm REALLY late now... but I just wanted to update you all a little bit about what I'm feeling right now... so yeah... nothing huge but... if the pants fit... I guess I'm going to buy them and wear them.  Loud and proud.

<3,
Tiff

(but if I end up quitting and "returning the pants"... I'm fine with that too.  But 2 people have told me that they don't see me quitting... but that they'd fully support me if I did.  But that I must have really "changed" if I would do that.  Hm.  Tiff's not a quitter, huh?  How about... postponing in wisdom?)

oil can

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<3,
Tiff

Tools

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Night!
<3,
Tiff

not my home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So what does matter?  People matter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything I wanted

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

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

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

Here's one such moment:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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