On being homesick...

We're trying to spend more time in the south bay this summer, hoping to stay connected with my home church. Since my parents died, it's hard to go back and visit. Finding a place to stay can become such a task... not wanting to impose on people. The place I've called home for such a long time just isn't anymore.

When I was going through a rough patch a decade ago, my mentor recommended that I meditate on heaven. It was a novel idea. She pointed out that to most of us, heaven is just a concept in our heads. Rarely is it a reality, except for those who are close to death. Every once in awhile, I will think and consider and ponder about what heaven is like.

Last week at large group we sang "In Christ Alone." I've lost count on how many times I've sung this. It seems to be the go to song for when we need to affirm some truths about our faith. Here is the second half of the last verse:

No power of hell, no scheme of man
Could ever pluck me from his hand
Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I stand

In so many ways, grief for me just really means I'm homesick. Very homesick. Home isn't necessarily the place where you grew up. It's where the people you belong to are. And for who knows how long I won't be able to go home. So I'm homesick.

May is anniversary month, or the month when my dad died. I actually get to have two per year (lucky me) - the other being in December. I'm practicing being kind and compassionate to myself, which doesn't come easily to me when it comes to emotionally tough situations. My tendency is to just plow through and stay functional.

I suppose blogging is a practice of that, allowing myself, or making myself have space to grieve. To stop, write, think, and remain instead of pushing aside, distract, or vegge out. Only now do I feel okay blogging about my grief process. I suppose that's an indication of some sort of progress.

To sum it up...

This is how I've been experiencing life lately... and the past two years.

The hand of the LORD was on me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the LORD and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. 

He asked me, “Son of man, can these bones live?” 

I said, “Sovereign LORD, you alone know.” 

Then he said to me, "Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the LORD! This is what the Sovereign LORD says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the LORD."

Ezekiel 37:1-6

On being Chinese American...

We're trying to raise Isaac bilingual. When my family first immigrated to the US in 1984, my parents made the decision of speaking only Chinese at home. They valued us keeping our language, knowing that our ability to speak would keep open the access to family and culture.

Bryan is beyond supportive. He speaks Mandarin to Isaac 80%+ of the time. When Isaac learns a word he doesn't already know, he becomes determined to learn that phrase. He knows that one day Isaac may surpass him and he wants to do all he can to keep up. Just another reason why I feel like I won the lottery with the man I married.

When I'm alone with Isaac, it's the best time to speak 100% Chinese. No need to translate for Bryan, no need to keep up communication with Grandma.

I've been doing something weird though. I knew I was doing it but I didn't stop to think about why I was doing it.

When we're at the park or library, and it's just the two of us, I will speak in complete Mandarin. However if someone we don't know comes to the play structure, I will consciously throw out a phrase of perfect English.

If I don't I'm worried people will think of me as an immigrant. And in this country few immigrants feel welcomed. I worry that if people think I can't speak perfect English, they will not want to know me. I could be cut off from mommy groups and play dates. Maybe Isaac will be disadvantaged. Maybe my opinions won't matter. Is it an irrational fear? Yes and no. Is it reality? Yes and no.

It's just something I do, and I haven't been able to make myself stop. I want to and I don't. I don't want others to tell me what they think I should do either. Just know that it's part of the immigrant experience. There's an ongoing pressure, sometimes overt but mostly subtle, to prove whether or not you belong in this country.

For now I'll probably keep doing it, especially given the fact that we live in Davis. This way we get to be that "cool" family that is doing the bilingual thing.

On mourning...

"Grief is like getting your period when you're going to the beach... so inconvenient!"

~ Cheri and Peggy

From commonprayer.net

I read this excerpt this morning and resonated much with it so I wanted to leave it here to remind myself of its truths in the future.

We must be careful in all our talk about liturgical prayer not to rule out the spontaneous moves of the Spirit. Just as liturgical traditions have much to offer us by way of roots, the charismatic and Pentecostals have much to offer us in zeal and passion. Tradition and innovation go together in God’s kingdom. -Jesus was Jewish. He went to synagogue “as was his tradition” and celebrated holy days such as Passover. But -Jesus also healed on the Sabbath. -Jesus points us to a God who is able to work within institutions and order, a God who is too big to be confined. God is constantly coloring outside the lines. -Jesus challenges the structures that oppress and exclude, and busts through any traditions that put limitations on love. Love cannot be harnessed.

Liturgy is public poetry and art. You can make beautiful art by splashing paint on a wall, and you can also make art with the careful diligence of a sculptor. Both can be lovely, and both can be ugly. Both can be marketed and robbed of their original touch, and both have the potential to inspire and move -people to do something beautiful for God. So it is with worship. More important than whether something is old or new, winsome or classic is whether it is real. The Scriptures tell us to “test the spirits,” and the true test of the spirit of a thing is whether it moves us closer to God and to our suffering neighbor. Does it have fruit outside of our own good feelings? Beauty must hearken to something beyond us. It should cause us to do something beautiful for God in the world.

New Blog

So tired of trying to keep up this blog with lame Chinese people trying to make my blog X-rated.

I used to twitter funny Bryan Enderle quotes so I thought, why not blog entire conversations that reduce me to tears on a daily basis?

http://thefunnye.blogspot.com/

So sad...

My blog has been so sad and neglected. I frequently have epiphanies for blog topics but am never near a computer to get it out on "paper." I recently downloaded an iphone app that is an idea organizer so I can record ideas for later use.

The saddest thing about my neglected blog is that random people leave comments on it with links to what I can only imagine are XXX websites. I guess it's my fault for calling my blog "sex and the country."

Perhaps I've set the bar too high. The subtitle of the blog states: my irreverent and potentially irrelevant thoughts trying to work themselves out. First of all I need to be irreverent. Easily done if I throw in a cuss word here or there, right? Secondly, my entries need to be potentially irrelevant... POTENTIALLY being the key word because it's just a "witty" guise for how relevant I think I am, ha!

It usually takes me at least an hour to complete a blog post because I put it through many edits and revisions to make sure I get my thoughts across. Who has that time nowadays?

Perhaps I need to screw perfection and just get whatever out there as a discipline and exercise. We'll see how it goes.