Dear Anderson...

Dearest Anderson,

I never really called you Anderson in real life... only when referring to you to other people.  Even now it sounds so sterile and impersonal... but this is half a letter to you and half letting others know my thoughts.  I just felt like writing to you tonightT.  I haven't written to you in a while.

Three years ago you went home to be with the Lord.  Not a day has passed since then that I have not thought of you, missed you, or wished you were here.  I really can't believe it's been three years.  It's been an eventful three years though and I've met a LOT of fun people along the way; I call them my "adventure friends".  I doubt I would have made any of them were it not for your influence in my life.

My life map.

A couple weeks ago I got the opportunity to listen to someone's life map presentation and I thought it would be a good idea to do one for myself.  The instructions asked me to ponder my heritage, my heroes, my high points, my hard times, and the hand of God through it all.  I thought it would be an easy process.  I was wrong.  It's not that it's hard for me to identify any of these things... it's hard for me to narrow it down to something I could share in 20 minutes.  It's been hard for me to narrow down.  I almost feel as though I could go for days recounting all of these things... but one thing's for certain... you are a hero, you are a high point, we had hard times and yet we clearly saw the hand of God through it all... even when it was happening and I can see it even more so in hindsight.

In thinking about my life before you... I recognize how the moments I thought were major events... only served to prepare me for you.  My childhood salvation... the years and years of Sunday schooling... all that stuff came in handy (well in my own life as well) to introduce you to God.  My decision to go to UCI even though it didn't tickle my fancy when I visited the campus... rooming with Vicky... made it possible for us to meet.  If I never dated my first bf, I don't think I would have tried so hard or spent so much time in San Diego during my second relationship... and then I might not have gone to their AACF and I might not have decided that it joining a college fellowship was something I should do after I broke up with him.  If I hadn't ever met Leslie Fung/Ho at FCBC, I might not have given her rides home where we talked about UCI's AACF and I might not have tried it out.  If I never did that, I might not have been asked to join their IM softball team which is when we started to hang out more.  If my dad hadn't played sports with my brother and me when we were small, I might never have been comfortable enough with a bat, ball, and glove to play on the team.  If I had never swung a bat, I might not have gone with you to the batting cages... and we never would have gone to McDonald's afterwards for our "first date" of hot fudge sundaes...no nuts please.  If I had never gone to AACF, I would have never dragged you there to meet all my Christian friends who took an immediate liking to you and with whom we made so many fun memories.  If I never had issues with my old youth pastor, I might not have appreciated Pastor Ted so much and I might not have stuck around FCBC after college... and you might never have met Ted and his family... and you might not have had your conversations about Christianity and you might not have accepted Christ.

If you hadn't been Brazilian Taiwanese, you probably never would have gone back to work in Brazil and we wouldn't have had a long distance relationship which helped teach me not to draw my identity from my relationship, but to develop my own identity and go after my own goals.  If we never had a long distance relationship, I might not have had to continually ask myself if we were "worth it" and I might not have continually reaffirmed that we were.  We might not have developed our "motto" of "it doesn't matter what we do or where we are, as long as we're together everything will be OK".

If I hadn't gone to FCBC my whole life, I might not have started a small group (called BEANO, which stands for Be Encouraging, Accountable, and Nurturing to Others) and I might not have learned all the lessons about the women of God, how to be a woman of faith, a woman of excellence, a woman of prayer.  It might never have dawned on me that the only reason you got on my case about things was because you cared about me... and you were performing your God-given role to lead me in sanctification and present me holy and blameless... and I might never have learned how to listen.  If I had never started BEANO, I might not have started doing daily devotions with Becca which turned into daily Bible reading with accountability... which turned out to be my lifeline and my source of strength through our days in Houston when we were far away from everything familiar to us.

If I wasn't born in 1982 and I hadn't grown up where I did... if I never went to Stanley G. Oswalt Elementary School, I never would have met Alli and Mark, whose brother got us the appointment which led us to the clinical trial we weren't even looking for at MD Anderson in Houston.  If I hadn't gotten a Facebook account, if Alli and Mark never found each other on Yelp, if Ted had never left FCBC and went to East Valley, I never would have visited, I never would have reconnected with Alli who had recently reconnected with Mark on Yelp... we never would have had an elementary school reunion... and I never would have invited them to our wedding... and Mark would never have known about us.  I had skipped a grade in Montessori School too.  If I had never been put in public school, in that particular year, I wouldn't have been in class with Alli and Mark and I never would have met them.

If I hadn't been so indecisive about what to do after graduation, I probably wouldn't have worked in the Weller/Sakai plant research lab after graduating and I probably wouldn't have built such a strong research foundation.  I applied for grad school while working in that lab with the help of my professors.  If Cal State Fullerton hadn't offered me a grant which covered all my tuition, I might not have gotten my Masters in Public Health.  If I hadn't been at CSUF that particular year, I might not have known that they were starting an entry-level masters nursing program for people who already had a bachelor's degree in another field (totally "me").  If I hadn't gotten into this particular program and if I hadn't been a bio major in undergrad, I might not have been able to get all my prereq's done so easily, and I might not have gone to nursing school.  I only applied to one school and I didn't even decide I really wanted to go until I got accepted.  Not to mention, CSUF also gave me a grant which paid for my nursing school as well.  When I hear about other people trying to get into nursing, I can totally tell that God wanted me to be a nurse.

If you hadn't gotten a brain tumor, I wonder how much longer it would have taken you to propose to me.  If we had never gone through what we did during the first surgery, I wonder if we would have been convinced that we were "the ones" for each other.  If the tumor had never started to grow back, you might not have proposed when you did.  If you didn't propose to me that summer and if you hadn't had so many residual functional deficits after the second surgery, we probably would have started to plan the wedding.  Since we didn't plan anything for six months, it made the 30 hours of planning that made our wedding possible an even more miraculous feat... an even greater act of God which showed us that if God wants it to happen, it will happen.

If I hadn't started my nursing program that particular year, and if I weren't in that particular program, the perfect "take a break" point right after pre-licensure but before our master's level coursework wouldn't have fallen right before you got the news of the second time the tumor.  If I had been in any other program, I wouldn't have had any more classes to take... and when I came home after being widowed, I wouldn't have enrolled myself in five classes and I probably wouldn't have spent time with my friends who really helped me get back to something "normal".  If I hadn't spent so much time with those particular friends, I wouldn't have known that they were offering us the option to stop early and take a Bachelor's in nursing instead of the Masters... and I was only one of 5 people that year to be able to do that.

If I hadn't hung out with this particular group of friends, I probably wouldn't have applied to that nursing job at Little Company of Mary and after not getting that job, I might not have blogged about it. If I never blogged about it, my mom might not have gotten me into the new grad nursing luncheon at Anaheim Regional where I got my first job.  If I hadn't gotten this first job, I probably wouldn't have opted for the Bachelor's in nursing.  If I never opted for the Bachelor's, I probably wouldn't have decided to look for BSN to DNP (Doctorate of Nursing Practice) programs.  If I hadn't had the background in research to know that I do NOT want a research doctorate, I might not have applied to this particular program.  And if my experiences living with you in the hospital had never given me such a deep empathy for patients and families, I might not have had never-ending fodder to fuel paper after paper I wrote for school while working full time.  If I hadn't had my experience with you, I might not have been able to decide on a dissertation topic which stemmed from my experiences as the wife of a frequently hospitalized patient.

If I had never met you, I never would have moved to Houston with you and I never would have torn myself away from my friends, my church, and the seemingly important things that filled my brain and my time.  If I had never been stripped of everything that was familiar, I might never have seen the things that God showed me when all that excess had been taken away.  I might not have had the time to listen to His voice so intently and if we had never had to deal with cancer, I might not have cried so hard or yearned so much to hear His voice and receive His comfort.  If Becca hadn't been keeping me accountable with Bible reading every day, I might not have done it and I might have been robbed from the gifts of insight God gave me during those leisurely days in Houston.

If I hadn't been at FCBC all my life and if I hadn't had so many friends there who sacrificed so much to give us our miracle wedding, they might not have asked us for prayer requests and I might not have started the google group where I wrote our updates and prayer requests.  If I hadn't done that, I might not have started blogging all my thoughts and I probably would have drowned and died due to my overwhelming grief.  If I had never started blogging, so many people would never have known me or met me... I might not have written that article for Inheritance Mag and I wouldn't have met Yealee and I never would have gone on The Upper Room and been taped for that kind of interview.  I'm not sure how many people have learned about you and our story through Inheritance and The Upper Room, but if you said that you wanted your story to be shared far and wide... I think God made that happen... in ways I never would have imagined possible.

And most importantly, if God hadn't brought us together, taught me all of these things, and primed my heart to hear His voice... I might never have opened my eyes to see that all of these things were brought about out of His deep, undying, unfathomable love for me.  It is because of this that I would never wish that I never met you, I would never wish that I had never loved you, and I would never wish that all of this had never happened.  If God could have taught me all of this without brain cancer and being widowed, I'm pretty sure He would have done it.  He knows me and He knows you.  He knew exactly what both of us needed to humble us and bring us to a place where we would SEE Him... and that is exactly what He did... no more, no less.

If I hadn't been widowed, I wouldn't have come home to Cali with a renewed sense of adventure.  I distinctly remember one day where I decided to say "yes" more than "no" and to try new things, to travel by myself... to go out and explore and live out new adventures that I never would have done before.  I think I used to hang out with friends maybe once or twice a month.  It used to be really difficult for me to make girl friends and now I pick up new friends left and right and I meet people with whom it seems like I could have known them my whole life but I only just met them yesterday.  I love my life.  It is extremely full, extremely vibrant... full of good food, so many good "adventure" friends... and laughing with my whole heart.

There's so much more I could say... but I think I could go on and on and on with more stories of "if this never happened, then..." but the bottom line is that without you, none of this would have happened in my life.  And maybe God would have orchestrated another equally elaborate interweaving of people, places, and events if you and I never were... but I love our story and I love that you played such a huge role in it.  I think you were perfectly cast to play opposite me in this love story and I wouldn't have it any other way.  I don't think it is possible to contain my life map into a mere 20 minutes.  I would need hours and hours to recount all the awesome things God has done in my life and all the people and events He's used to bring them about.  And 3 years ago, you passed away.  I don't really think that I truly "lived" before you... and my life the past 3 years has been nothing short of amazing.  I thank God and I thank YOU for it all.  If you're not keeping up with every detail of my life, I'm glad we have an eternity for me to tell you all the stories I'm collecting.

I love you and I miss you.  Can't wait to see you again...
<3,
me

And even though it's technically still the 21st, if we were in Houston, we'd be on Central Time which would make it the 22nd already.  Happy heaven day, my darling husband.

Benched

So the past few weeks I have been pondering my life... how I got where I am... and I know it kinda seems like a lot's going on but for some reason, I still felt benched. 

Perhaps it's because I started on a new unit with a whole bunch of people I'm meeting for the first time... many of whom forget that I work there permanently and keep asking if I'm a float or who I am.  I feel like I'm sitting on the sidelines watching other people play the game and sometimes I feel like I'm at the bottom of the bench.  The end of the bench? 

So I had resolved to... spend my time on the bench as productively as possible.  Sit and watch.  Learn.  Observe.  To try to keep up as much as possible so whenever the coach wants to put me in... I'll be warm and ready and waiting to take my place.  If I'm gonna be benched... or actually, in this case... to only feel like I'm being benched... I want to be the best benched person ever.  Benched with excellence. 

I'm learning a lot.  My new unit takes very different patients than the other units I've been on.  I feel like this is a whole new world of nursing and sometimes I get stuck in the mentality that I don't know what's going on and I forget that I do have some experience to fall back on.  I have to remember that I'm adjusting to a new patient population and adjusting to the way things work on day shift... and just follow my inklings and ask questions if there's anything I'm not sure about.  I always think it's better to ask a question 10 times than to make a mistake by not asking.  Thankfully, my new co-workers are super nice.  They are super willing to answer my questions and even if it's something I should have known, they just answer my question and don't get on my case about "you should have known this or that".  The secretary and I were just talking about that phenomenon today.  How in the amount of time it took someone to yell at you for "you should have already known how to do that", they could have taught you how to do it and saved you a whole lot of stress and helped you for next time too.  Anyway.  I'm glad I'm on this unit. 

Today was a good day at work.  My patients were sweet.  Their family members were also sweet and very helpful.  I got a chance to teach them things.  I really felt like we worked as a team to help the patient.  That's always nice.  Also, a few of the nurses took the time to explain things to me and to help walk me through what normally happens when we get a fresh open heart (or a patient who just came back from open heart surgery).  It's so complicated.  There's so much going on.  I think I'll have to watch/hear/listen many times before I truly "get it" but I'm glad to have the experience to observe again today.  After the patient had stabilized enough for me to ask questions, some of the nurses and I got to talking.  This one particular nurse was quite outspoken.  We talked about all kinds of things... nurse practitioners, health care, nurses, abortion, gay marriage, etc. etc.  Anyway... this person also mentioned that they were agnostic.  Multiple times throughout the day.  I'm not sure how it came up multiple times but it just did.  As a newbie, I do a lot of listening.  I was very aware of this fact. 

And then there was a moment where I had to make a split second decision.  The moment came right after this agnostic nurse asked me if I was married or dating.

On some units or among some co-workers... I don't elaborate.  When patients ask me this question, I usually give the VERY short answer which I know will lead to a dead end in the conversation... and that answer is "nope".  It's vague.  It's a conversation ender.

I remember standing there... at the door of the room... looking at this patient with a billion tubes coming out of her, surrounded by machines... a nurse facing me, doing one of the countless tasks that have to occur every hour in order to manage care of this patient... I had a choice... to say "nope" or to say what I know will open the door to many more questions... a much longer conversation... taking more time than I know this nurse has.  I made that split-second decision to say, "I'm widowed" and the events following this split-second decision were nothing short of amazing... to me anyway. 

I have to back up to another conversation I had recently... just to give a little bit of background as to why this was significant.  Building on my feelings prior to getting the Dr. Eugene Scholarship... I had wondered whether or not my time talking about widowdom was near an end.  It is definitely a part of me and it is a significant part... but I don't want it to define me or who I am in the future.  But just as having my scholarship essay read aloud for me to hear my own words tell me that being widowed is inextricably part of who I am... that it is not just my past but a part of me that molds and influences how I do my work as a nurse, as a student... as a friend... it makes me a better person... to embrace it as what it is... the most powerful testimony of God's grace and God's glory shown through my life. 

As I read through the stories of the kings of Israel and Judah... and think back on what God did in Egypt... in the wilderness... in the conquering of the promised land... I can't help but think that what He has already done is more than enough foundation to make having faith in Him a no brainer.  How many times have I read, "thus you shall know that I am your God and you are My people..." and all the amazing things God has done after that?  How many people have witnessed God's amazing work in their lives and also in the lives of the people around them... and still fail to believe?  Lots.  I think there's a big difference between saying, "Lord, please help my unbelief" and doubting that God is powerful enough to handle our problems, big or small, or that His way is better than our way 100% of the time.  I heard on the radio someone talking about the shortest distance between two points and how it's not a straight line... otherwise rivers would be straight lines... the shortest distance between two points, he said, is the path of least resistance.  Imagine trying to navigate through a forest and trying to go in a straight line... there are trees in the way... there may be rocks... there may be all kinds of road blocks which keep us from going in a straight line but we INSIST on going in a straight line.  Perhaps there is instead... a little squiggly path... perhaps around a bend, around the trees... it will take us in the direction we need to go, perhaps necessitating some "detours" but the road marked before us has little inklings that we're heading the right direction without ruining the forest.  Perhaps leading to a little spring along the way... maybe taking us on an adventure... to enjoy the journey as well as press on toward the destination.  It's not a perfect analogy... but when we choose God, we are choosing to follow the God who knows the forest inside and out, who has complete control over everything that happens there... who knows the path of our lives and plans for the best... who knows also that a detour here or there might just be better for the journey than trying to plow through in a straight line or even cut down the trees that fall in our way.  K.  I think I'm getting carried away with this one.  The point is... it never occurred to me to transfer to CVU six months ago, but the way circumstances played out... if one unit seemed to slam all the doors in my face and another unit promises to open them up again... I was almost led here... around the trees... and taking a path I don't know and was unsure about... but somehow trusting that it was meant to happen this way. 

Today was one of those days where I found a little nugget letting me know that I'm here for a reason... sent for a purpose.  Kinda like Paul.  OK I digress a little bit but I promise it has a point.  Paul... I can't remember exactly how it happened but somehow ended up on trial or maybe imprisoned and then on trial... in front of Romans... in front of maybe the senate or whatever convenes during Roman trials... and I think he probably could have gotten out of the whole thing by telling them he was a Roman citizen but he didn't.  He went ahead and got put on trial... and he got a chance to bring the gospel of Jesus Christ directly to people who probably wouldn't listen to a Hebrew otherwise.  He had a captive audience.  And one thing that someone said reminded me of something someone said to me today, "you almost persuade me to become a Christian" (from Acts 26). 

So going back to work today... during my split second decision... I felt like the coach was calling my name and asking if I wanted to step up and play.  And because I was ready... I said yes.  I don't know what it is about saying the words, "I'm widowed" that makes people stop what they're doing and listen to what I have to say.  A respiratory therapist AND a nurse both immediately stopped what they were doing and gave me matching looks of incredulity.  And I couldn't help but to elaborate. 

It's not the first time I've told the story.  In fact, some words I used... were exactly what I said when telling my story on The Upper Room interview.  I tried to be as brief as possible... as to not disturb people from their work of saving lives or whatnot... but for some reason when I told my story today... it was contagious.  It was contagious and unifying.  Nursing is largely independent work.  Everyone has their own respective tasks of things to do and we all kind of plot out our own day according to our own priorities in order to get them done.  That means that one person could be charting, one person could be drawing up meds, one person could be at the monitor looking at heart rhythms... everyone's usually doing something different.  Oh and that's not to mention that some nurses don't get along with others so they don't talk to each other or try to keep their distance.  Anyway... when I got to talking... one person heard a little bit and wanted me to share more.  And then another person heard a bit and pulled up a chair to listen.  I was well prepared with my "wedding photos" album on my phone.  I remember standing there with 3 nurses sitting/standing around me, the newbie, listening as though the words coming out of my mouth were captivating... and maybe it was.  Maybe I am a good story teller, despite the stutterings and forgetting words or terms or guessing at dates.  So we had story time, right there in the middle of the cardiac ICU at Anaheim Regional Medical Center. 

I like telling the story to nurses.  We can talk about the medical stuff.  They ask me questions about diagnosis and history... they guess that he had mets (or metastases) and they know what I'm talking about when I talk about respiratory failure, intubation... traching.  In a way, I get to tell Anderson's story in a different way when I tell it to nurses or people in the medical field.  I actually did not mention God in my brief medical synopsis version... but even in the midst of nurses having to leave and come back to story time... that agnostic nurse came back and made a bold statement that, "I'm agnostic but it's stories like yours that make me want to believe there is a God". I didn't even outright say anything... but God's work speaks for itself. 

It reminded me that my life and my testimony is not meant to be hidden... or put on a shelf high up like a high school yearbook.  It's meant to be... a light... placed on a hill... to cast light in the darkness of night... to brighten the paths of the valley... and to illuminate the way for others struggling to see their own feet.  I'm not quite sure what kind of impact this little bit of the Tifferson story had on my co-workers that particular day, but I do find that when I share honestly... other people also share about related stories in their lives... and also try to encourage me... and hugs.  I usually get lots of hugs. 

The amazing things God's done in my life... they are meant to be shared... and also to be remembered.  How can I doubt God and His goodness when I daily remind myself of His faithfulness and His grace to me and Anderson?  How can I ever complain about the "crazy" things that happen in my life when God has shown me time and time again that what Satan means for evil, God can turn into good? And it's not just the stuff God's done in the past... it's the stuff He continues to do in my everyday life which gives me even more stories to tell about His awesomeness. 

For example...miss grumpy nurse... the one who complains about everything... who carries the weight of the stress of the job on her shoulders and never wants to take it off... the abrasive one with the passive aggressive jokes... made it a point to encourage me and tell me that I'm beautiful and smart and that she's sure that one day I'll love again.  I think that God's work can pierce through the most callous hearts and bring out the sweetness and tenderness that often hides behind the protective stone walls that people put up.  That... is beautiful to me.  And perhaps I will have a chance to share again one day... to tell more stories... and encourage others... and bring shining light and hope into their lives.  Yes.  I was meant to be here.  And I'm also thankful for all the training and prepwork... for the moments I was benched, but ready at a moment's notice to seize an opportunity to share.  Who knows... I may not get a chance to share again... this might be the only day I get to work with these people... and I think that's kind of a good mentality to have.

If this were the only interaction I would ever have with a person... what would I want them to remember?  If I only had these 12 hours today... to take care of a patient... to work alongside someone... or even to meet someone new somewhere... what kind of an impact do I want to have on them?  I think I'd want to leave them with a sweet taste... wanting to hear more, know more... and that's also probably the way we need to be treating every person we come in contact with.  I am guilty of behaving in ways which probably leave bitter tastes in people's mouths... which leave them thankful that I'm away from them... but hopefully, with God's grace, I can grow to become the sweetest version of me...the me that is as much like Jesus as I can possibly be in this life. 

OK.  I think I probably should try to get some sleep. It's finals week after all.

Thank you for taking the time to read about my day at work. 

<3,
Tiff

P.S. I like day shift.  I do also like night shift for various reasons... but I really enjoy being at the hospital during the day.  There are so many more people to talk to and infinitely more people to smile at.  And the MDs are so much nicer during the day.  I think I could go either way.  Plus, I'm pretty sure I have my night shift experience so that I can represent night shifters at committee meetings and speak up for their unique needs as well.  All part of my training to play the best game I can. 

P.P.S.  I'm very sensitive to caffeine.  I think I'm still wired from the small cup of coffee I drank 15 hours ago.  My very nice co-workers bought me a cup of hazelnut vanilla coffee and I couldn't say no.  I've been awake for 19 hours.  I'm still not tired.  But that meant I had enough energy to blog my day for you.  All good. 

waiting

Hello blog.  It's been a while.  I skipped blogging during the entire months of April and May mostly because I was so exhausted that I chose to sleep instead.  When I wasn't sleeping, I was probably going to work.  When I wasn't working, I was probably doing homework.  When I did have time, my brain function was so low'n'slow that I had no idea what I'd write to begin with.  I am about to make more life changes so I thought that maybe I should just post for the sake of getting my feelings out and preparing for what's ahead. 

I think I've been pretty tired for the past few years.  I've only gotten more tired as I started school.  Around February of this year, I think I got to a point where I wasn't sure if I could handle the exhaustion anymore.  One particular day, I slept for 20 hours.  I might have gotten up to go to the bathroom twice but was so exhausted that I went back to bed.  I slept for almost an entire day.  It was then that I realized that I should probably try to make some changes before my body revolts on me. 

I analyzed the situation and decided that I was not about to give up school at this point (even though it was REALLY tempting...) and I wasn't going to give up seeing my friends... so I decided to try to make some changes at work.  I currently work full time nights in our medical/surgical ICU.  I approached my director multiple times but no viable options surfaced.  It appeared that I was stuck for the moment. 

Many thoughts entered my mind.  Not all of them positive... but at the end of the day, I thought that maybe...since all these doors were being closed... that it wasn't time to move.  Maybe it was time to stay put and suck it up.  Do the best with what I've got... and honestly, what I've got isn't bad at all. 

It never occurred to me to look to another unit, but as chance would have it... I went to a free dinner at Mastro's and two other nurses from my hospital also went.  These two nurses worked in the cardiovascular ICU unit, which is called CVU at my hospital.  They encouraged me to turn around and take a look at the doors in the other direction.  Long story short, the director of CVU already knew who I was because I'd done some presentations in front of the management a few months back and when I called her, she told me she thought to herself, "wow, she must be reading my mind...because I have openings and she wants to transfer."  As many doors were closing in ICU... opportunities started to open in CVU.  It was almost as if... the winds were routing me in this direction.  Such is the story of my life. 

At the beginning of April, I accepted a position for day shift on CVU.  These past two months have been spent waiting.  It took a while for me to be released from my current unit.  I only received my transfer date a couple weeks ago.  Waiting, waiting, waiting.  Hear Inigo Montoya say, "I hate wait." 

During this time of waiting... I did have a chance to think.  Just a little bit.  I thought about King David... anointed to be King of Israel as a youth... and then waiting... running from King Saul... waiting... ruling in Judah... and then finally making it to King of Israel.  He had been promised the throne this entire time... but I'm pretty sure as he was running, being hunted by King Saul's men... getting kicked out of one country... being a nomad with his army band of misfits... he must have wondered and cried out... why?  And then bingo, a psalm was written.  And then I heard on the radio... about Jacob and Joseph... not wanting to leave their bones in Egypt... and how it was a result of their faith...that Egypt was not the final destination... the Promised Land was.  So I tried to keep my eyes focused on the promise and not the current situation.  What's the point of being disgruntled about something so temporary?  It's like grumbling about the loaner when your car's in the shop... this isn't your car... it's just a placeholder.  And then I thought about how all of life is like that.  Life here on earth... it's not the end.  This isn't all there is.  This is not my eternal resting place or my home forever... just for maybe another 50 odd years.  Part of it is waiting... but another part is living... if I'm going to wait... I'm going to wait with excellence.  If between me and Anderson... if I'm the one that got a chance to live... I want to live with excellence as well. 

I also had a thought... why so many changes?  Am I restless?  Am I discontent?  Do I make changes for the sake of torturing myself?  I don't know.  I don't consider myself a masochist.  And a part of me does fear the unknown.  A part of me does push myself to the limit to see how far I can go.  And I guess some part of me decided that switching back and forth between staying up all night and staying up all day was something I wanted to change... so I did.  I did 2.5 years on night shift so I can definitely say that I can do it.  But the combination between night shift, school, dissertation stuff... I think it's a little too much for me right now so I'm scaling back.  I don't see anything wrong with that. 

And then I wondered... am I making changes because winds blow me in any particular direction?  When is it time to drop the anchor and when is it time to pull up the sail?  Are my changes reactionary or proactive?  Is this folly or wisdom?  Are these changes just a part of growth and learning? Why does it seem like so many people delay making changes and why does it seem like I can't wait for them to happen?  Maybe it's hope.  Hope that things could be better than they are.  I think that's what I'm hoping.  Maybe it's that hope that pushes me... the hope that's stronger than the fear that things could get worse.  Then I guess that makes me an optimist. 

I read this today in an ad:

Most people go to work.  Nurses go to care.

During my time of waiting... I think that work had begun to seem like... work.  I'd have my good days and my bad days but overall... I think I was kinda sad or depressed.  It was like... I had become a foggy version of myself.  I could still recognize myself but nothing felt that happy... nothing felt that sad... it was just... blah-ness.  Everyday blah-ness.  And I didn't want to live like that either.  I was listening to the radio and there was a song playing... but there was some static.  I could still hear the song because I'd recognized it and I'd heard it before... but there was static over it... obscuring the song enough so that if someone hadn't heard it before, they might not remember it again.  I don't want to be that kind of person or live that kind of life.  I don't want people to meet me or see me and not remember the essence of me.  I want it to be strong and obvious... plain and simple... bold and colorful, not washed out.  I want to be the best version of myself and the best version of myself is the one that's directly connected to my Source of life.  I had to move myself to get out of the way of the obstacles that were messing with my connection.  Heard this song on the radio too. 

I don't wanna go through the motions
I don't wanna go one more day
without Your all consuming passion inside of me
I don't wanna spend my whole life asking,
"What if I had given everything,
instead of going through the motions?"

No regrets, not this time
I'm gonna let my heart defeat my mind
Let Your love make me whole
I think I'm finally feeling something
'Cause just okay is not enough
Help me fight through the nothingness of this life

The two things that stood out to me were the "all consuming passion inside of me" and to a lesser extent, "just okay is not enough".  I want all consuming passion inside of me.  I remember something that I said about Anderson's legacy in the Upper Room interview... that everything I do nowadays is a result of the overflow of love in my heart.  I wrote essays about it for school.  It helps me see my patients and their families as people instead of just a job.  I think I needed this time of waiting to help remind me of that before I got to a place where I couldn't even recognize myself anymore... with no joy in anything... with fake smiles that hid the nothingness and emptiness I felt inside.  Sometimes I stop and ask myself where my joy is... where my bubblies went.  I know something's wrong when I have no bubblies. 

And then maybe the past week... I started "waking up" little by little.  I talked to a couple people I hadn't talked to in a while.  They helped remind me of things.  It helped remind me of who I am.  I read some of my old blog posts.  I re-read my Inheritance Article. I looked at old pictures.  And then... I got this award.

And I cried. 

I cried as the presenter was reading my scholarship essay out loud.  Hearing him use my own words to remind me why I became a nurse and why I wanted to pursue additional education to further my career... it hit me again... about who I am and what I do.  Everything about me is inextricably a part of who I am... the nurse... the widow... the woman... and it's OK to make changes to help me be the best I can be.  And I always tell myself... I know it's a good day when I've cried.  It means that my heart has moved... I've purged.  Good signs.  Reminding me who I am. 

After I cried, I had to go to work.  It was my last night shift.  I tried my best to enjoy it.  A couple people told me some reasons why they don't want day shift... that they couldn't stand the busy-ness... all the people... and I just smiled.  I like the interaction.  I like the people.  I like talking to doctors.  I stayed after work to talk to some day shifters.  It also reminded me about who I was and what I love.  And then I watched a GI doc do an EGD and place a PEG at the bedside.  It was pretty crazy amazing.  And then I thought about how many more cool things I'll get to see on day shift and also on a new unit.  So... I'm hopeful. All this waiting had a purpose and now that it's done... I can look back on all the good things that came from the waiting and leave behind the frustration and anger at why it had to happen this way in the first place. 

And maybe for when I forget... I should write this down so I can remind myself later...

There's always a reason for everything He allows to happen.  It's looking for those reasons and choosing to believe the best in God that makes the difference between gratitude and bitterness.  Sometimes people make it harder to see but... I know that (insert name here) means well even if it doesn't come across that way or if I don't understand the reasons at the time.  

K.  I think I'm done writing down my scattered thoughts.  Hope they made sense.  Until next time...
<3,
Tiff

my karpas, my tears

It's been a while since my last post.  Probably one of the longest gaps between posts for me.  It's not that I didn't want to post the past month and a half... I've just been so utterly exhausted.  I've opted to sleep instead.  I'm sure you understand.  :) 

Let's see... something notable... I went to my first Passover Seder yesterday.  It was pretty awesome.  Ever since I read somewhere about Seders, I've wanted to go to one.  I put it on my bucket list of things to do before I die.  And it just so happened that this year...there was a Passover Seder at the young adult group.  The last time they did one was 5 years ago.  I feel pretty much like it was meant to be.  I was meant to leave my other church at the time that I did and I was meant to go to young adult group on that particular week and I was meant to go to this Seder.  Sometimes when things like this happen, I wonder if I'm going to die soon because it seems like God grants me every desire of my heart and I didn't even have to try for this one.  :)

I'm still processing all the things I learned, but all in all, the Seder was awesome.  If I ever have a household of my own... I wanna have Seders.  Maybe it doesn't have to be exceptionally traditional, but I do want to go through the cups and spend time remembering.  Oh.  For those of you who don't know what a Seder is, it's a Jewish dinner thing... kinda like a special family dinner that they do... where they eat certain things in a certain order... it's kinda like our Lord's Supper thing but... there's a little bit more involved to remember the events of the Passover... I'm not going to go and try to explain it... I wouldn't do it justice... but I do remember a few things that really impacted me... and one of those things that I remember was dipping the Karpas in the salt water.

 
The greens represent the life the God gives and sustains and the salt water represents tears.  When the guy leading the Seder dipped the parsley in the salt water and lifted it... I watched the salt water fall from the parsley... and saw the tears that have dripped from my eyes these past few weeks.  The tears are supposed to remind Israelites of the tears shed during their bondage in Egypt.  That day... and today... I felt those tears... falling from the parsley like the tears my heart has been crying even when my eyes were dry these past few months. 

I cried out for Anderson last night for the first time in a very long time.  I had insomnia and I... just wanted someone to talk to about all the things floating around in my head.  I wanted to just snuggle in his arms and cry myself to sleep... I settle for burying myself in my pillows and crying until I feel like stopping.  He always knew what to say... to make me feel better... to remind me not to freak out... and I know it's completely unrelated... but to make me feel pretty and loved no matter what.  I missed that.  I missed him. 

This has been a really rough Lenten season for me... emotionally, physically, mentally... I've felt an onslaught of guilt, exhaustion, emotional instability, lack of confidence in my work, lack of confidence in my schoolwork... a lack of confidence in general.  God has taken pains to remind me that He is always by my side... I've had really awesome moments here and there, but the general baseline that I keep coming back to is... a sad face. 

Have you ever just caught yourself... like when your mind is empty... maybe when you're driving... or when you just wake up in the morning... I think we used to call it a "normal face" when we were kids... it's just... baseline... when you're not really thinking... just... existing.  I'm used to having my baseline face being a smile or something bubbly... like when I'm walking down the hall, I'd just... be happy and cheery for absolutely no reason whatsoever.  The past few months I've caught myself and I've been like... sad... or depressed... or exhausted... or irritable.  I thought about it after catching myself and I really have no reason to be sad or depressed... so I just try to live based on truths and not on how I feel.  I have to remind myself of truths repeatedly.  And I constantly ask myself whether or not my sad feelings have any grounds.  I honestly can't find anything real to pinpoint it to. 

Feelings of loneliness and emptiness have been hitting me particularly hard.  Facebook updates about babies, weddings, engagements... I'm really happy for all of my friends... but I also wonder... if I got my shot already... or if there is still something left for my future in this realm. 

And then... I think about... what the Israelites would say... when they were wandering around the wilderness and found themselves without water.  They'd be all dramatic and say something like, "OH that we had DIED in Egypt... where there was fruits and meat and blah blah blah..."  or "OH WHY oh WHY did you bring us out here to DIE of THIRST and STARVATION..." and I kinda felt like... dang that's passive aggressive.  Wishing for something that I used to have was a little bit pointless... and it's also the way that desire of the heart/body was expressed.  If I feel the desire to be in a relationship like I would feel hunger or thirst... I should simply... ask God explicitly for it and then wait for the answer.  Why should I be such an ingrate and forget all the wondrous things God has done for me and brought me through... the miraculous transformation of my heart... providing for my every need... why wouldn't God provide for this area of my life as well?  He has proven Himself faithful to me... to His people... time and time again across centuries... I don't see why He would stop now. 

No, no... it must be that I just can't see the answer yet.  Or maybe singleness is the answer in the future... but for sure, it's the answer right now. 

So Anderson used to do this thing... where he would text me really early in the morning or maybe before I came over... but before he even saw what I looked like or knew what I was wearing... he'd text me "you look pretty today" or "I love that outfit on you" and "can't wait to see you".  Sometimes, I'd be out shopping and I'd text him that I bought him something and right away he'd say, "I love it! Thank you".  And it really wasn't that he said those things in response to what I looked like or because of the gift itself.  First thing in the morning, of course I looked terrible... but he did those things because he loved ME... more than the way I looked... more than the clothes I wore... He loved me for me and he didn't need to see me (or any gift) to know that.  He loved my choices before he knew them because he loved me. 

In the same way... I want to love the choices God makes for me... even before I see them or before they arrive.  I absolutely know that whatever God has planned for me has been chosen precisely and with wisdom... for me.  He knows me inside and out... and loves me with an undying, super deep, super passionate kind of love... where He would not dare withhold anything if it weren't for my best interest.  He is incapable of being vindictive or withholding things for His amusement.  There is a darn good reason why things are the way they are and it's to teach me something important... to train me for something... or to teach me an invaluable lesson that I would not have learned any other way.  It's all good stuff. 

So I'll love my invisible future... my invisible mate... because I'm in love with God and I love His choices for me even before I know what they are.  It's only a matter of time before I'll get to see more and that joy will be more complete.  In the meantime, I'll just wait with anticipation. 

And I think sometime after the dipping of the Karpas in the salt water... there was a part where we ate matzo with horseraddish... the bitter root... to remind the Israelites of their bitter slavery in Egypt.  The guy said that normally they eat a teaspoon of it.  The girl next to me decided to try it.  Except that she thought she heard Tablespoon... so while I ate a tiny bit which made my nose sting and made me cry... she ate an entire Tablespoon of it and if I suffered a little with the tiny bit I ate... she was SUFFERING.  I thought her head might explode.  We laughed but I tried to imagine amplifying my pain by 10X and I just couldn't fathom it.  After that... there was this sweet apple mixture that kinda takes away the pain of the bitter root... it's supposed to represent hope and the sweetness of redemption.  So I dunno if I'm still crying from my Karpas or if my sinuses are throbbing and aching from the horseraddish...but...I have hope...in the sweetness that I already have... and the sweetness to come and I'm glad I went to this dinner to remind me... with food...one of the greatest joys of my life... of the hope that I have in Christ.  Karpas and Tears are just a part of it and not the whole of it.  My life WILL end with sweetness.  It is guaranteed.  If God said it... if God promised it... it's as good as gold... as good as done.  

And maybe I'll also have this song to remind me whose hands I rest in...whose hands cover me...whose hands will never let me go... when my Karpas is dripping with tears.  

And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life   (By your Side. Tenth Avenue North)

OK.  I've procrastinated my homework long enough.  Until next time...

<3,
Tiff

Jo-J

OK the day that Tiff wakes up from a nap and is like...moderately sad that she missed the Knicks game is a strange day indeed. 

The day that Tiff watches/listens to an entire basketball game from start to finish... twice... is also a strange day indeed.

I've had two very strange days the past couple days.  I thought that I should blog it.

OK... I don't know if this is just going to join the ranks as "just another post about Jeremy Lin"... but it's not just going to be about Jeremy.  It's going to be a culmination of things I've been thinking about for the past two months... that culminated in me having a bit of time to write right NOW... with the J Lin stuff pushing it over the edge. 

Jeremy Lin... you're like a bright shiny star... juxtaposed against the dark night sky... even I can't help but stop, notice, and admire.  

So I recently turned 30.  I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it prior... and I had tried to write but... nothing was coming out so I didn't want to force it.  I was also experiencing writer's block and doctoral-student block at the highest intensity I have experienced thus far... over one year into my program.  I was also training to be an ICU nurse... adjusting to flipping my sleep schedule completely 180... AND to top it off, I had gained like 5% body mass in 1 month and I'm pretty sure it was all fat.  I think I was pretty stressed.  And distraught.  Mostly over the weight... but also over the doc-block.

And then I started reading/listening about some guy... who really really encouraged me.  Sometimes stuff just comes on the radio... and I find it somewhat amazing that God chose to remind me of this particular guy at this particular time in my life.  And I am constantly amazed at how God uses pre-set Bible reading plans in such a time-perfect way to speak truth or to encourage me with such perfect precision aligning with the experiences of my life.  So this guy... one of my absolute, top ten...shoot maybe top five favorite SuperJews... Joseph.  I saw this shirt in a movie and loved it.  I now own it.  Actually it was a gift but I would have bought it for myself anyway if a friend hadn't had such a quick internet finger.  It's hanging on my wall... and sometimes I'll wear it while writing papers because I imagine that it will infer some SuperJew awesomeness into my life.  Yes it's hanging there amidst the purple... amidst the 3D flowers and pastel-colored leaf stickers... sort of next to the wall of diplomas and my pictures of me and Anderson.  Kinda funky, but if you know me at all, I think you'd understand why it has earned a place there.  Have I ever posted about my favorite SuperJews?  Well... I talk and write about them all the time even if this is the first you've heard of my SuperJew shirt.  


Joseph.  What an amazing guy.  What I admire about Joseph... is his character, his perseverance... and his amazing managerial skills.  This guy... hated by his 10 brothers... thrown into a pit, sold into slavery in a foreign land... still found a way to live and work in a manner pleasing to the world... while holding himself to a standard that none of his brothers did... maybe not even his father did... but he remembered the God of his fathers and lived his life to its maximum potential every step of the way... being probably the lone Hebrew wherever he went.  And he also found himself in some pretty sucky situations. Enslaved... wrongfully accused... imprisoned... and yet... every step of the way he rose to the occasion and made the best of his training. 

Whatever I am going through right now... is both opportunity and training ground.  I have opportunities to learn, opportunities to serve, opportunities to grow... to spur others to grow... and I'm pretty darn sure that it is just another step in the journey to bring me to another level of opportunity further down the line.  Each step necessary for the next step... each step preparing me in a new and different way for the next one.  I see this in my own life... I saw this in Joseph's life... and I also am beginning to see it in J Lin's life... not that it was never there before... I just didn't really pay attention to his life too much before now. 

Joseph did his best.  He worked to a standard of excellence... even at the humble position he found himself in Egypt.  You guys realize that this guy went from favored son... exempted from tending the flocks... recipient of best clothes... daddy's favorite son... to second class citizen pretty much in one day?  Spoiled boy with the soft hands and crazy dreams... could have just sat and pouted... done his work with bitterness and resentment like the kid of that father who shot like 8 rounds into her laptop... but he didn't.  He made the best of his managerial training and learned how to run a household. 

And he didn't just run a household like any other guy runs a household.  I'm pretty sure if I were there to observe him... I would have observed God-given skill and artistry in his work. 

Tell all the skilled men to whom I have given wisdom in such matters that they are to make garments for Aaron, for his consecration, so he may serve me as priest. (Ex. 28:3)

I've noticed this before... when reading about the tabernacle... when reading about how God instructed Solomon to build His temple... I noticed that skilled men... skilled artists... were endowed with wisdom.  It takes wisdom to know what is pleasing to the eye... pleasing to the ear.  If you've ever looked at a version of something... let's say... fake Hello Kitty... and all the components of Hello Kitty are there... but there's just something off... something that looks funny... they're just minute details... proportions... coloring maybe... shapes... I dunno.  Very subtle differences that make all the difference.  You can also tell the difference in the quality of some items... how you can tell that someone designed some things in one way... that there was thought, foresight and depth of experience built into the craftsmanship of some items... versus other items who were copied without taking into account the details that make one item superior to another.  So... I'm pretty sure that there is genius behind all things beautiful... all things quality... and the most beautiful, the most quality genius... comes from God.  God-given skill and God-given wisdom goes into the excellent.  I'm pretty sure there was something different about the way Joseph managed Potiphar's household.  Even if the methods were identical to another guy's... this kid had a heart behind the hands... a heart that sought to please and obey God... and the heart is what matters more than the actions... even tho the actions are all the world sees.  God sees the heart.  You can mess up massively... but if you messed up with the right heart... between you and God... you're OK.  You can succeed massively... but if you succeed with the wrong heart... you and God... eh... He's not happy.  Not to say that He won't love you... because He always does and He always will. 

Anyway... so I'm guessing that Joseph must have done things with such genius precision that Potiphar noticed.  And Pottie must have also noticed that even more than skill... Jo had the character to back it... and the character must have been so... exceptional that he would have entrusted his entire household over to his slave.  All Pottie had to care about was eating and drinking... Jo took care of the rest.  Can you imagine?  Trusting someone so much to leave your brain in bed... and just walking around all happy-go-lucky and free to come and go... eat whatever you want...?!?  Have you EVER trusted anyone so much?  Have you ever found anyone with whom you felt you COULD trust that much?  And this wasn't some Ivy League graduate... this was some dusty young kid who came off a wagon... I somehow imagine it being a little bit like... a combination of Chinatown shopping stall put onto a wagon of slaves.  I'm sure they would have just taken the multi-colored cloak right off his back and hung it up next to him to sell... if he had still had it with him. 


Oh and did I mention that Joseph didn't just have superb natural managerial skill... that he was HOT?  LOL. 

Anyway... so he's just doing his work, minding his own business... and Pottie's wife starts to come on to him.  Something about Jo... he's got something appealing for everybody.  Beauty and brains.  How bout that?  And!  And he's got character.  He was wrongfully accused and imprisoned for NOT sleeping with her.  I'm sure he must have wondered if he would have been sitting "pretty" at Pottie's table instead of in a dirty, stinky dungeon with dirty, stinky people if only he had given in to her.  But... even if he had thought it... he still picked himself up and probably put some dirty, stinky clothes on cuz I doubt they would have sent him away with the clothes that Pottie's wife grabbed off him... and went right back to doing what he was doing... so much to the point that he was running the joint again... hahaha... the joint.  Sometimes I wish I could listen to myself talk about this stuff... I think I would make myself laugh.  And I just noticed that at both his milestones... he must have entered into them naked.  And I'm also guessing... that someone who knows how to manage other things well... probably knew how to take care of his own body well... so even naked, I'm pretty sure he looked pretty good.  And I guess that's how you truly know your own character... when you've been stripped of everything... you find out what's truly important to you.  If your clothes are what you valued most and you're stripped of them, you find yourself... empty.  It was all you had to live for, wasn't it?  But if after you've been stripped... you kinda just brush yourself off and figure that another day... another set of clothes... a new set of things to do...you reveal that your true worth had nothing to do with the externals... but with the internal... the imperishable... something that the world cannot take away from you...  kinda like in 1 Peter...

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes.  Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.  (1 Pet. 3:3-4)

Anyway... another thing that amazes me about Jo... was that because he had worked hard on a daily basis... as his own personal standard... because he had done so well in his day-to-day life... which again, is how we are called to live... because each day has enough trouble of its own... that he was not only working as to the Lord... being approved by men... that he was consistent and could be counted on with that consistency... but that... he was ready.  At any given moment... some strange turn of events could transpire which open up a door or a window of opportunity... and if you weren't living or running as if you were going to win the race before... you're not gonna be ready to step up and rise to the occasion when you are called to. 

One day... you're just walking along the prison... I'm guessing it might not have been dirty and stinky anymore if Jo had anything to do with it... twirling your beard in one hand... pondering how you could improve prison processes and increase efficiency on such a low budget... when some guy in a red shirt and a phaser says, "come with me, cupcake"... and you walk into a room like in Tron where your clothes are just cut off of you... your beard shaved... and you get some fancy clothes put on you by a team of professionals in a white unitard with platform heels... (sorry I'm mixing movie images here... I have no images of Egypt to relate to)... and you're called upon to do what none of the professionals who do this for a LIVING could do... and actually no one on earth could have done because interpretation of dreams come from God alone... and then next thing you know you're running the joint again... but this time it's no small time Pottie house... or the "big house"... you're running the country... to the point where Pharaoh can leave his brain on his nightstand and entrust his entire country and the future of the known world... into the hands of this kid you just plucked out of prison a few hours ago.  And at that point... Joseph was 30 years old. 

It is no coincidence that God reminded me about Jo right before I was going to turn 30.  I felt that it was perfect timing... perfect choice of reading... to minister to my heart and show me how I need to be working... that even if I have crappy circumstances (which I don't)... that I still need to be like Jo and do my work... even if no one sees... to build up my character and consistency... so that whenever I am, IF ever I am, called to the spotlight... I'm ready and waiting to fulfill God's intended purpose in my life... whatever that may be.  I'm sure that Jo would have been VERY happy to just be let out of prison... but God intended for him to save the world as he knew it... to reunite and save his family... to put a temporary end to the sojourning of Israel and his kiddos... and give them the land of Goshen... to prepare them for the great deliverance when it's MoMo's turn to fulfill his intended purpose.  God has plans.  Great plans.  We might just be a tiny part in the grand scheme of things... but whenever we step up and say, "here I am, send me"... or even in Jo's case... he didn't ask to be sent but was taken by force... to make the most out of his situations... to take the opportunities and get trained for the next step... that we can play our part and experience all the goodness that He intended.  Jo said it right when he told his brothers, "y'all meant it for evil, but God meant it for good". 

I wonder if that's what we'd get to say... if for some reason God allowed Satan to plant that cancer into Anderson's cells... that both Anderson and I would stand hand in hand one day and say to Satan, "YOU meant it for evil... YOU thought that it was going to destroy us... but God meant it for good."

At 30... I'm guessing that it must have crossed his mind... that THIS is why he was sold into slavery and brought to Egypt... THIS is why he got to practice running Pottie's household... THIS is why he had to go to prison... to meet up with the Baker and the Cupbearer at that particular time... so that he would be ready now to prepare for the worst famine imaginable.  So now he's running the country... how much better could it get?  Well it was about to get a whole lot better in 7 years... he was going to get to see his brothers again... to see Ben... to see his father... and provide for them.  So I might be 30 right now and I thought that my 20's were pretty darn good... but if God is consistent... and He always is... it's only gonna keep getting better and better.    He has shown His faithfulness to His people... SuperJews and regulars alike... now Jew and Gentile alike... across all of history... all time... so why wouldn't he also be faithful to me... the 30-year-old American-Chinese nurse in California?  Did you know that I am the only Tiffany Chen, RN in the state of California?  Yep, I just checked.  I am STILL the only TChenRN in California.  I'm sure there are loads of Tiffany Chens.  Heck, there were at least 5 Tiffany Ng's in California... how many more Chens would there be?  And how is it that I am the only Tiffany Chen who was called to be a nurse?  Maybe there were some, but they got married and changed their last names.  Who knows.  Right now... it's just me. 

Ok so I guess this isn't as much a post about J Lin.  J's story reminds me of Jo's.  I don't know you, Jeremy Lin... and I may never know you this side of eternity... but thank you... for living your life in a manner that someone so far away could see your character, admire it... and be inspired to live my life similarly.  I'm not going to go to Harvard... Lord willing I'll be DONE with school after this one.  I'm NOT going to play in the NBA... I'm an entire foot shorter than you and have next to no basketball skills... but I can relate to you and your journey.  The details are different, but the way you say that you were meant to be a basketball player... that God caused a whole mess of things which were out of your control... which step by step led you to where you're at... I see it in your life... I see it in mine and I am encouraged.  You were meant to be a basketball player.  I was meant to be a nurse.  You are doing what you can in your mission field... and I am doing what I can in mine. 

Do you not see the genius of God in that as well?  What better way to reach people with the love of Christ than to send them to areas that they are uniquely prepared to infiltrate?  God doesn't create cookie cutter Christians.  We don't need to wear uniforms for someone to recognize us.  We have the fruit of the Spirit... we have peace that surpasses understanding... we have wisdom beyond our years and even beyond human capabilities sometimes... ok and I say "we"... I don't necessarily mean "me".  But when I heard the announcers talk about J Lin... his court vision... his composure... his confidence on the court... his unselfishness... his humility... his joy and love of the game... the way at halftime, he said that he recognized that he was making mistakes and he was going to go look at films... and the lady said, "right NOW?" and he said, "yeah, right now"... in the middle of the game!  His work ethic is amazing!  Mistakes aren't something to get down about... it just brings to light areas of weakness and allows you to work on them to improve on it... even right NOW... when it counts.  Right NOW counts... not just tomorrow... not just the day after... right now in the middle of the game... it matters how I see things and it matters what I do in response.  I don't know if I'm correct but I see a lot of genuine sincerity in J Lin... a humility... and a simplicity... that stands out in the NBA like a shiny star against a black sky... especially next to Kobe.  I don't know what the future holds... I hope that J Lin will only keep getting better and better... but right NOW it makes me happy to see that his "work" is approved by men... that even people who may never profess Christ... can look at his life and see glimmers of God's glory. That is amazing to me.  That is encouraging to me.  I'm happy for you, J Lin.  I doubt you'll ever read this, but if you do, I hope it's at least a fraction as encouraging to you as it is to me. 

And this post is called Jo-J because of Joseph and J Lin... but also because it sounds like OJ and I was just thinking about how much I love OJ earlier today.  Best I've ever had was Amish breakfast in Philly.  I keep searching for life-changing OJ in California but... no success.  I've had life-changing oranges tho.  I wonder if life-changing oranges would make life-changing OJ.  I guess it never made it there since I ate them first.  Anyway.  Maybe I'll get to eat some more life-changing oranges this year.  We'll see.  :)  Thanks for reading my thoughts... I best get back to doing my homework in a manner that will be approved by men... or in my case... women... for grades...

<3,
Tiff