Some things that happened in 2011

• Flew to Seattle for my first out of state trip-with-friends for Christmas2010/New Years 2011 with Kolkata teammates
• Bought a 50mm f1.4 (solid investment!)
• Went to four weddings (the first three which took place the first two months of the year)
• Was a bridesmaid for the first time in the wedding of one of my best college friends and roommate
• Co-led Mark 2 at Connections
• Stood with Kayleen when she got baptized
• Started making loan payments
• Ran the SF Half Marathon with Darrell and Mr. Chan
• Made amazing new friends and co-workers on a long, long road trip while learning bunches on Intern Trek 2011 (pictures not yet posted)
• Celebrated 3 years with Darrell
• Co-led ROC at Trilogy
• Ran the Silicon Valley 10K Turkey Trot with the brothers
• Received a brand new laptop for my birthday, along with free Microsoft Office that my roommate had lying around, Photoshop Elements, and a North Face backpack
• Paid for my own car repairs
• Gave my first LG talk
• Journaled a whole ton (almost finished one in less than a year...record since my This-is-what-happened-today-I-like-this writing in high school)
• Had semi-regular coffeeshop quiet times
• Joined IV staff
• Fundraised
• Worked my first year-long job, albeit part-time, which included shmoozing people, making marketing materials, working a website redesign, and [currently] putting together a publication, half which I authored
• Saw God provide with friends and finances at numerous points during the year
• Admitted I was an ESTJ 
• Did listening prayer and was in awe of God's response
• Heard about a friend's suicide, and another's tragedy
• Attended two memorial services
• Switched churches (but still have a partial home in both)
• Set up a budget (and kinda stuck to it)

(To be added to...maybe)

What's in a name?

Dad, did you write poems to mom?


A typical Chinese restaurant with the familiar buzz of conversation, three generations sitting at a table, and bowls of rice held closely to your face. We always knew that mom and dad named us early in their dating years, giving names like little rain for the weather as they rode together on a motorcycle during college days, little road for the path they walked together.

My assumption was that little poem was for poem's that they wrote to each other, but though my parents use Chinese equivalents of "honey" and "dear", I have yet to hear them recite poetry to each other. So where, mom and dad, did my name come from?

On a tangent, we brainstorm a few other names that would have been funny had we had more siblings. Little wind, to go with the rain and thunder, would have been fun for a younger sister, but xiao fong is phonetically similar to Little Crazy, and that would never do.

We wanted 雷風 (Lei Fong--thunder and wind), but that would have been too much, my mom says to explain 小雷 (Xiao Lei), Little Thunder, our youngest brother.

Xioa Shi--the beautiful story that sums everything up, a story so beautiful like a poem. Dad says while mom leaves the table to wash her hands. Dad says this with the look that always makes us roll our eyes, the daddy look of one so proud.  

Mom returns and we stay on topic. But we had a girl, and you can't name a girl Little Thunder. So I said to your dad, I want a 詩情畫意 name.

詩情畫意 (Shi Ching Hua Yi)--A Chinese saying you use when something is so beautiful it's like a hua tu (picture) and shi ching (like a song) at the same time. Or like painting poetry. And so my name--the exact characters 詩情 --they named me. 

潘詩情--when you write it out, it is so, so beautiful, my mom says. Did I know my mom so loved my birth name? The feeling, the emotion of love. I always directly translated it to Love Poem, but now, 23 years later, I find there is so much more.

The third child, the one with a special name that breaks the traditional pattern of matching sibling names. Of course, they give me 小詩 to match with 小雨, 小 路 ,小雷. And at times I have been wondered about the loss of the name my parents first gave me, remembering my days as a child when people would use my official name, birth name. When we cross paths with old family friends, they call me 詩情. But these days, most people don't know that the Little Poem is, well, a nickname that matches with Little Rain, Little Road, and Little Thunder.

But tonight, I will remember I am different and I am special. Though a big family and four-kids family builds in a seemingly never-ending comparison complex, though often a half thought is often spent hoping your siblings don't take things the wrong way, though your parents remind you often that they love you all, love you all so much...tonight I hear the passion in my mom's voice as she tells me my name was taken straight from a beautiful, beautiful phrase. Though I chuckle in my head that a daughter named after such emotion often chooses cold reason instead, I also marvel that I have lived so long not knowing how much my mom loves my name. If I could, I would give her permission to call me by that first name again.  

Tonight I will sign my name as
潘詩情

Multi-ethnic America

The Talk (what a creative name for a talk show)--Four women hosting, and the lead host is a Chinese American. Today, Margaret Cho is a guest. Two Chinese women, a black woman, two white Americans.

"This is America! Chinese, Korean, Blacks--all on TV!," dad exclaims. But the confusing part is why is this still such a victory and not the norm?

A facebook post from an old friend: "you know you're getting old when people you went to middle school with are having kids...but then it could be just because they're 白人, since there is a trend with 亞洲人 getting married later than 白人...and then 非洲人 are already grandparents at my age."

As if your racism can be masked by language.


We will have hot pot for Christmas dinner tomorrow.

Last year's Christmas present

In the past year, I've completed a half marathon and a 10K and played in two ultimate tournaments.

Chyeahhh baby. Putting the Asics to good use!

Doesn't work that way

Rice and eggs are good. Avocado and eggs are good. Rice and avocado...not so much.

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten.

Mother I made it up from the bruise on the floor of this prison
Mother I lost it, all of the fear of the Lord I was given
Mother forget me now that the creek drank the cradle you sang to
Mother forgive me, I sold your car for the shoes that I gave you

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons could be birds, taken broken up to the mountain

As Rob H. puts it: "Unfamiliar waters."

Perks to this job

• Packing my turtle pack with the Rebel for a weekend in the mountains
• Helping my professor see both hindsight and his current view on faith and choosing God's way
• Studying scripture (holla!)
• Lounging in pj's at 6 pm because I'm working at home the rest of the night

On a different note: Orson. Scott. Card. I am this close to buying the entire Shadow Series on Amazon. With each book costing $0.03 with $3.99 shipping that's just like $12 total right?

Where I'm From

Draft 1. An identity exercise.


I am from cups of hot Milo
From Mervyn's turtlenecks and Chinese School homework
I am from a four-bedroom, one-story home of six people
expressive, talkative, with voices that interrupt
and hands that tell stories

I am from the red hibiscus of Malaysia
and the pink rosebush that always grows
too big in the front lawn

I'm from Sabbath ice cream
and from giving and serving endlessly
from Albert to Alan and the A's in between

I'm from singing out loud and imitating people in stories
from talking in movies to walking into rooms unannounced
from washing dishes at someone's house
to the pride of my parents when adults
praised their children

I'm from the Chinese Seventh-Day Adventists
close knit, conservative, familial
to the non-denominational charismatics
who dance and shout and value passion

I'm from the Chinese in Malaysia
Char keuy teow, laksa, and mangosteen
From the mother with three children--ages 2, 3, and 7--on an international flight
the father of character sketches, morals of stories, and life lessons

From the forgotten photo albums in the hall closet
Grandma's fan in mom's top drawer
Dad's engineering books in the garage

I am from the third child of four of
parents who left their religion
and their home country
The brother who is almost a twin
The older sister I never understood
The younger brother I adore

I am the streak of responsibility and independence
That will never really leave home

PD

Back to fundraising
and crunching numbers
trying to increase percentage raise
decrease percentage needed
twisting numbers and formulas to
motivate myself.

Wondering who I can talk to next
Who is left that will say yes?
One part in my life that is not
Glowing with Optimism

Instead I have forgotten that God
Has opened doors in the past
Is asking his people to give
Lights my path
Funds his ministry
Has called me here.

And if I get a "no"
Then they may be following God in other places
Or their disobedience is between Lord Almighty and them
Not me
Not personally
Not my identity

Okay Jesus. Let's go.

#ethnicidentity

Signing all e-mails to my parents with, "Audrey/Xiao-shi"

My Name

English 1A, 2002

My name is the blue of the ocean, which is more and more beautiful as you go deeper. Unfathomable. My name has as many layers as an onion—peeling off one will only lead to another. One must take eternity to explore the crevices. And yet I am still accepted, despite that I, like the universe, will never be fully known.

In a snap, my name changes to happiness. Like the shard of sea glass you pick out among the grains of sand, it stands out. My name is different, rare as the certain jellybean that is scarce in the jar. Audrey. Like the feel of soft dough in your hand. Comfortable. Warm, even accepting. Like the smell of cookies in the oven.

In the name books, my name means “noble strength.” I know nothing about my nobility, but my strength is drawn from my friends. I am dependent, guided by many friends and mentors along the road of life.

My name matches that of Audrey Hepburn. Unlike her, I am neither sophisticated nor poised. But like her character in “My Fair Lady”, I am being trained and polished for the life that I am meant to live.

I will not change my name. My name is representative. It is the rainbow holding the beauty of diversity from friendships and lessons blended into one. Someday I will live up to my name. As for now, I guess I’m working toward it. I have yet to become a 100% Audrey.  

Jipped

Dear McD's drive-thru employee,

I was pretty sure I paid you with a twenty, I doubted you when you said I gave you a five. But you were nice and pulled over your manager and opened the drawer. I have no idea what you told him but when you opened the window again, you were still sure. So I let it go...

And now that I'm checking my budget spreadsheet, I am most definitely $15 short, and it's one of those regrets where you're telling yourself, Should have trusted my instincts! but you weren't trying to be dishonest. It just means that I'm short. I guess my only hope is that if you closed the drawer at the end of the day and found out you had too much money, you remembered me and felt bad for it.

Sigh. Sad face. =(

Growing Up

I wonder when I'll stop being amazed at the responsibilities and complications that just come with life. Just a few years ago, I freaked out about FAFSA once a year and student loans and tuition payments twice a year. Then I moved off campus and started paying rent and utilities. Somewhere along the way I learned I should get my oil changed regularly (my parents do a horrible job at this and I never realized it was important). Then I started paying back my loans. In between there are scattered other things, like a cell phone bill (though I pay through my sister) and bigger car repairs.

In 10 years, I will probably look back on these years and laugh, when the juggling act includes mortgages, health insurance, kids, and God knows what else. For now, my brain is concerned enough with the expenses I can list on my ten fingers (maybe. I haven't actually tried.) and I feel like I'm becoming such a grown up.

Thankfully, my parents took care of my car insurance and AAA membership for another year (or half of it at least...), so that's off the radar till next September. However, recent conversations have brought up the fact that I should probably have a credit card by now, and could have done pretty well building up a credit history during my college years (snap dangit).

Now my brain is a mess of where do I start? My bank? Capital One? How much research do I need to do before I choose one and apply? This could be a far bigger deal than my brain can grasp right now: I want to tell myself it's not a big deal, but it could very well become one (maybe) and definitely could make financial things in the future a lot smoother or not so great.

Also, car maintenance stresses me out. There's the initial distrust that the mechanic might not be telling you the truth with what your car actually needs, but there's the What-if-he's-right!-and-my-car-will-die-on-the-road! Then there's the glance at your bank account and wondering how much you can really afford right now. And what is a good price anyway? I wish we could just trust everything everyone said!


AHHH

Anyway, I'm in family-home for the first time in two months and the last time until Thanksgiving. It's good times. Anthony has midterms soon so we're going to crash a coffeeshop (it's the cool thing to do these days) to get some work done. I guess that means I can't put off my other stuff.

Fund development Case presentation Follow up E-mails Trilogy planning Who am I talking to on campus? What's on my schedule for the next month? It feels like October is going to pass by very quickly I guess so has the past two months Small group prep What is J.team doing? Friends to k.i.t. with Another wedding on the calendar! Credit card? Celebrating life Contemplating simplicity So many books to read Where are my Orson Scott Card books?

Good afternoon, October!

NSO is come and gone...and so is my excuse for not blogging!!! Kinda sad I didn't write anything about this craziness of a month, but oh well. Here comes October!

Yesterday the alumni career symposium event I co-organized took off smoothly. I need to plan more events like this: where everything is delegated and I can just watch take pictures. And I should find my way into being a profession event planner. I am only half kidding.

Next up: inviting students to Trilogy (I really need to get on this), hosting SOP Day, going home for the first time since early August, planning ROC (wait, what?), training for a second half marathon in six weeks, making sure J.Team takes off, another weekend of Intern Training...with some meetings and hopefully a hot date night peppered in between.


On a closing note, this is my new favorite song.



The heart knows where it belongs, & mine's only home whne it is safe inside your arms

NSO

Okay, this was an infographic from twentyonehundred productions, InterVarsity's genius graphic and multimedia team. I meant to post it last month because it was rather appropriate, but go figure--everything seemed to get busy. 

But I'm here nearing the tail end of the first week of classes and waiting for my Seattle friends to get into town., so I thought I'd take a few moments to share what this first week of NSO of staff has been like, whether thoughts or actions or whatever comes to mind. And I'm putting them in bullet format because sometimes that's all I can muster when I am tired:

• Lunch at 3:30 pm. Dinner after 11 pm. My meal time is so confused. 
• "Okay, maybe I'll only dorm till 10 pm." Then I don't leave the res halls till 11:20 pm. Whoops...
• Was NSO as a student this crazy too? Or is it a staff thing?
• Proxe for three hours. Nap for 30 minutes. Try to do work. Too tired. Nap another 30 minutes. 
• Home-made cookies and brownies
• A plethora of awkwardness
• Creeping into a dorm room with no lights on: "Want a brownie?"
• "Have I met you before?" "Did I call you?" "Wait, did I just meet you?" "You look familiar." 
• "I'm looking forward to meeting you!" followed by, "Sorry! I remember meeting you now"
• All the times you see someone you met and you don't know whether to wave to them because they may not remember you
• Awkward conversation about who I am and what I'm doing there
• I live off campus. I actually graduated last December, but I'm leading with Nathan. And friends with Sarah and Christine. And working on campus. 

Brain Freeze is over. First LG is tomorrow. I need to plan Santa Cruz one of these days...

Toiling the soil

They're not uncommon outside of Target. Sometimes they stand, but often times they sit on the curb, just by the exit doors that swing out as you walk through with your plastic bags of new purchases. Maybe it's a less hostile posture to be sitting so low, maybe they're tired in the central valley heat. Regardless, it means you have to look down if you're talking to them. That, or ignore them.

They're usually polite. She wasn't any different, and when I offered to take her in to buy her food, she was immediately grateful. (Tangent: I remember offering to take someone in once, but he said Target didn't allow him to go in, whether because he made people uncomfortable or because he freeloaded I don't remember. But I remember I had to say it was okay that because he was with me.) Her name was Debbie, and in all stereotypes I guess she looked like what you'd expect. Stringy hair. A face that looked like it hadn't been washed (it still strikes me that the streets can age a person, and I wonder what I'd look like if I didn't/couldn't wash my face), an oversized t-shirt a bit too worn in and clearly unwashed for awhile.

As we walked to the food court she chatted endlessly.

I'm not from here, you see. I'm from the Bay.
Oh where from?
Fremont.
My family's from San Jose, it's not far from there.
Oh yes. I went to Miller Middle School, do you know Miller? It's a great school. So I came here to get a fresh start, you know? But it turns out I moved into a bad neighborhood. I found out my apartment had cockroaches and rats and mice and they gave me two days before eviction and well here I am. My neighbors, they do drugs and I'm not into that. I've been clean for ten years (Do I doubt her? I have no reason to. Why does it matter? Why are we so distrustful of people with unkempt appearances?), and that sobriety, that ain't something you want to lose. I used to do that lifestyle until I realized there's gotta be more, you know? And I have a daughter and I gotta take care of her.
Do you have a place to stay tonight?  (I think of my friends at the Rescue Mission. Is that un-dignifying to suggest? Then I think--how would they even get there? Systemic issues and circles that don't help each other...)
Oh yeah tonight we do. But it's hard you know...

She chatters on and somewhere in between we get a hot cinnamon pretzel, an Icee (That'd be really nice, I'm so thirsty. I'm so thirsty you know? It gets hot out there), and a hot dog for her friend outside (is he her husband? boyfriend? why does it matter to me?). A friend from school happens to be in the food court as well. In my head crosses the thought: I wonder what she thinks? And later when there's more space in my head and fewer words hitting my hears I think of the fact that she is a Christian too and I wonder what she thought about the whole thing.

And there are a lot worse people out there than me, I'm no way saying I'm the only one who's got it bad. There are a lot, a lot of people who have it hard too. But nice people like you who help out, I'm so thankful. I know there are people who ask for money and go spend it on drugs and I get that, I know people don't want to give to that (what's it like to know people are judging you?), but it's so nice when people help out. It really makes a difference you know.

Pray for us tonight, okay? It really makes a difference.

Yeah, yeah it does.
______________________________________

I walk to my car and, as usual, my head is spinning. I even know I'm going to blog about it, because I always blog about things like this because it makes me think. I think of how she told me she goes to church and asked me to pray for them, but I didn't say much about God or Jesus. Did I bring the kingdom near to them? Should I have stayed longer to talk, to pray, to be deeper?

I think of feeding people and quickly conclude: Buying someone a meal is not justice.Feeding their physical hunger in five minutes then driving away is not justice, no more than giving someone money is. Justice is something more holistic, something deeper, something so right and not just something nice to do. 

And I get into my car a little frustrated, because even though I let Debbie into my life it was but for a few minutes, almost just enough but stopped before I invested more deeply. But I am also confused because no one told me the next step after feeding someone and "getting to know" them and "treating them like human beings." No, in the interrupted moment that's all I seem to remember.

Next conclusion: It may not be full justice, but maybe that's it for this time in my life. Maybe, like the parable of the talents, I will be faithful to responding in this small way of bringing her into the food court. Maybe it's part of Shannon's commitment--Allowing my life to be interrupted by those in need (sub the poor, the oppressed, the hungry, the widowed, etc). If nothing, I pray that this keeps my heart soft, so whenever the next step (establishing friendship? serving as a voice?) comes, I will be listening. And these thoughts that flow through my head (why do I feel the need to judge them? why do I notice the people who notice me with her? what else does she need...I can't tell?) won't be new, but maybe there will be answers next time.

After all this is a journey, a long long journey. I remind myself that never on this earth will we reach complete justice, but that doesn't mean Jesus doesn't move us closer to his heart. And if taking someone into the food court is how he is asking me to be faithful for now, I will do it. If that is all I can comprehend about how to love a hungry stranger, then at least I will do that and not ignore that need with a, "but that doesn't solve the real issue" (funny, same reason people use for not giving them money). I only pray that this is just one more step in such a deep issue. And maybe some day I will know what else to do after the pretzel and the Icee.

With what shall I come before the LORD
   and bow down before the exalted God?
Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,
   with calves a year old?
Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams,
   with ten thousand rivers of olive oil?
Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgression,
   the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?
He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.
   And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
   and to walk humbly with your God.
-Micah 6:6-8

Small steps. Faithful steps. Humble steps.

It's not just about the American Dream

My heart is breaking.  It is turning over and twisting and infuriated with the ignorance, insensitivity, and patronizing attitude that exists. 

I read a paper that is written by a university staff worker. It talks about our university programs that reach out to the community, intentionally giving students an opportunity at higher education.  They are good programs.

But these papers...they are steeped in assumptions, prejudice, and the idea that if we can get everyone through our experience, we will make the world a better place. That's why we are doing our part.

You arrogant, blind man.  

I have lived in this city but five years, so I cannot speak as one who has loved this region for years. I recognize families who have seen better days, but I also see the gems they still treasure. I experience the familial feel in restaurants where I see so many greet each other and I assume they have known each other for years. I am slowly exploring the organizations who pour their energy into the rougher areas of Stockton, who aren't afraid to get to know them. They eat downtown to support that area so that the city doesn't keep trying to expand north to get away from the population that is at times messy.

But you, you paint a picture of such disparity. You write as if the area is inherently on a downward spiral and it always has been, were it not for the saving grace of Higher Education. You write of the crimes and academic gaps and economic dismay and ethnic minorities as if that is all this county is. In such generalities and in your offensive descriptions, you assume that those you are reaching must be immigrants and blue collar workers, uneducated and disadvantaged.  But surely if we put them through college and give them a stab at the American Dream, that will be enough.

No, we cannot neglect the reality of Stockton.  The statistics themselves are at times overwhelming, and driving by the run-down streets is far less than encouraging. But to write as you do is insensitive and offensive. 

This is but a fraction of my feelings as I read these papers this morning.  There is more to be furious about: higher education as a magical key to solve everything, the if you try hard enough you can mentality, and horrible ways to categorize people and to explain what we're doing to change the world.  

It is an interesting place to study biblical justice in one area of my life, turn around, and see a case example in another. I remind myself that I am not that much better, that I too have much to learn, that time and time again it is my turn to strip my eyes and attempt to adjust my lens away from my own viewpoint. Still, I lost an hour of productivity at work trying to grasp what sort of arrogant, ethnocentric, upper class employee could write something so ignorant. 

$2 joys

It is a small store.  I've driven by it many times on my way to somewhere else, but today is the first day I stop by a little used book store on Miracle Mile across the street from the Japanese restaurant the college kids go to their freshmen year before they know where the better restaurants are. 

Three aisles of books in an order I don't quite figure out in the ten minutes I am there.  Regardless, there is a happiness in being there.  In being with books read and loved.  There is a freedom you can't get in a Barnes & Noble (I would say Border's but we know where that's going)...maybe it's because when you have to pay $15 for a book, you should be sure you love it already and even then you can't decide if you want to break the book in and read comfortably or protect the book and it's clean corners.  But when you pick up a book for $2 and it's already loved, it's okay.  Someone has loved the book so if you don't, you can pass it back to someone who will.  But if you do love it, it's yours to keep, it's one more little classic in the beginnings of what you hope will be a good library some day. 

Books. Oh, the joy of a book.  Of being lost in the pages, living in a world where you don't exist but you are watching everything.  Not knowing what will happen or if anything big will happen, or perhaps this is really just the narrative of a very normal life.  A good, normal book, with joys and pains and love and strife.  Pages after pages...

And so I sit for the first time in a long time, spending hours in a day reading.  It has been too long.  It feels so good.

Just a quarter

He made eye contact and approached me Saturday morning at the farmer's market.  A stereotypical homeless man, he had long, scraggly, dry hair; an overgrown beard, a beanie, and a face wrinkled and aged with dirt and faded, baggy clothes.  A lone Caucasian man at a high Asian-population market bustling with small families, he sticks out.

As usual, my heart jumps a beat or two at the approach of unfamiliarity, but with the people around I quickly reason that nothing could happen.  He asks for a quarter or something.  I'm in a good mood, so in a chipper tone I offer him a peach that I had just bought.

"I can't eat that, miss."

I feel dumb immediately.  After all, just last week I read an article that mentioned many people on the streets have bad teeth and therefore cannot eat an apple. Duh, Audrey, duh. Way to be considerate. Still, I bounce back quickly, offering to buy him food (as any one who has listened to a "how to love the poor" conversation seems to believe is the best thing to do).  He says no, no, just a quarter.  Then says thank you.

As is typical with my bouts with the homeless, my mind is flooded as I walk away.  Why did I just give a quarter, why not more?  Is it de-humanizing and taking his dignity to offer more? What does he really want with the quarter? Why don't I befriend him, ask him name, and pull a Jesus card--using a simple request as a quarter to probe for something deeper? 

And try as I might, I still feel ill-equipped in these situations. My brain calculates of all my interactions and ideals, but the man in front of me is still hungry and cannot eat a peach. He has 25 more cents than before I met him, but there has got be more to loving the poor than that, right?

I wonder:  If I add enough creamer to a cup of coffee, will it taste like a latte?

Sophomore year

December 10, 2007 

I think following God in college is so much more different than what I thought it was.  Not to say God isn't radical (because he is, and we don't recognize it enough), but that he's also practical.  He's real, he's every day, he's decisions, he's there.  And sometimes, following God is JUST THAT.  You don't always have to push hard, always have to chase him.  Sometimes, you just follow.  Passive.  Submissive.  Trusting.  "He maketh me lie down in green pastures.  He leadeth me besides still waters.  He restoreth my soul."  Slowly, letting him take control.  Letting go.  Releasing.  Relaxing.

Yikes

Are FD phone calls supposed to get easier?

Trying to balance between cultural appropriateness...when to make small talk, when to be direct...when to use formal titles, when to use first names...and praying for grace amid all the blunders!!

Darks and Whites

Darrell asks me why I still don't sort darks and whites when I do laundry, since I know you're supposed do.

I've been doing laundry for 15 years now, and my clothes have been fine.  Also, it's kinda a hassle.  I already juggle sorting "really dirty" and "can wear again" between my basket, pop up hamper, and the space on top of my shelf. 

Darrell tells me that, just as you use warm water to wash dishes, hot water makes your clothes cleaner.  But hot water makes colors run, so that's why you use it for whites.  And it's really important to get socks and underwear clean.

Well that just opens up all sorts of problems!  What if you have colored underwear and socks?  Do you wash those with the whites so they'll be cleaner (and run the risk of pink socks, which has happened even washing cold-cold in our family), or do you wash them with the darks? 

Darrell tells me he washes his black socks with darks.  And to my concern that I don't have enough white clothes to make even a small load, he says they don't have to be all white.  Grays work too.  Light colors.

But what about yellow?  I just got a cute new yellow tanktop.  But what if it turns all my socks yellow?  

I am just making excuses.  But it's hard to change the way you've been doing laundry after so long.  And it feels like this will complicate the whole system. 

But mostly, I'll admit that I just don't know what warm water will do to my clothes.  Cold-cold has been safe for fifteen years, but what if my clothes get warped and shrinked but stretched in hot water? 

Though I guess I don't wear a lot of whites, that's not a problem for all my colored shirts that are still being washed cold anyway.  

This is so complicated.

You mean your family doesn't do that?

Yesterday I came back from work, picked up the mail, and glanced over a KFC ad.  Now here's the thing about me and fast food:  I'm never proud of eating it, and I often feel guilty when I do, but sometimes, I crave its fatty unhealthiness and imagine it's gotta be the best tasting thing ever.  Yesterday was one of those days.  So I gave in and got a little three-piece meal (extra crispy, yesssssss) even though I probably could have been fine with two.  As I was guiltily eating my heart-attack-in-a-box, I remembered the first time I asked for ketchup when eating fried chicken and someone asked, "For what?"  

This instance is one of many from these past years...of discovering that just because your family does it one way, it doesn't mean everyone else does too!  Hence, today's feature:  Things I always thought were normal.

1.  Eating ketchup with fried chicken

2.  Using paper plates for breakfast (compared with everyone else who just uses it for parties and get-togethers)

3.  Using paper towels in the restroom (in our defense, public restrooms do this, but most homes use linen towels)

4.  Putting soup on our rice

5.  Not sorting whites and colors for laundry, unless we're using bleach

6.  Using kid-furniture in the living room--a red, yellow, and green Iris Mini-Chest.  It's so useful, why would we put it anywhere else?

7.  Leave stuffed animals on coffee tables, piano tops, and bookshelves as decoration.  Then again, this is kinda typical of Asian households.

8.  Having no concept of "breakfast food"--leftovers, spaghetti, ramen, rice...or toast, eggs, and cereal.  Anything goes!

I shall add to this list as things come to mind!

Rainy June

1.  June ends in two days and it is...raining?!

2.  I got a $25 iTunes gift card a few weeks ago, and guess what?  I don't know what to do with it!  I rarely buy music, and I discovered I still have $5.23 left over from my previous gift card.  There's so much pressure to use your gift card right and get something that you'll really love...and I don't know what I want.  Gavin DeGraw's Chariot stripped album is an option.  Or Mumford & Sons (yeah, different, I know). 

3.  The Fourth of July is this weekend.  Might I add that to the list of holidays my family doesn't know how to celebrate?  What's supposed to go on?  BBQs and fireworks?  I might end up sitting around all day reading a book.  We'll see. 

4.  My first federal loan payment was today.  It makes me feel grown up in a slightly depressing way.  But thank God for automatic EBTs. 

5.  There are a lot of things that haven't happened in awhile, and I think my life is craving them:  a good baking streak (cookies?  cake?  banana bread?  new recipe?), a daycation (read: day escape out of Stock-town with the bf), and a good girlfriend sesh. 

6.  Sandwiched between a round trip drive to the Bay (left at 7:20 am, returned at 3 pm) and the Moonlight Classic drum corps competition, D and I enjoyed a rather lazy Sunday afternoon, complete with a game of 2-player Blokus (please bf, stop beating me in everything), ice cream, and Calvin and Hobbes.  Sometimes life is really really good. 

7.  And other times life is really crummy.  Sometimes I'm researching for the School and I end up stumbling on reviews of the University.  It's really pathetic, a waste of time, and I should really never do it.  Stuff like this school is a joke, employers don't take your degree seriously, the only thing they're good at is marketing.  Most of me doesn't believe it, another part of me knows there's a fragment of truth in our, well...not quite top-notch education. 

8.  And it makes me think of dumb things like being driven by profit, not being honest about our actual ranking and overall student success...but also makes me recognize that no matter the school, no matter the major, no matter the prestige, you have to be hardworking and motivated to be that student.

9.  Then I think, what the crap?  Of course that's how the world runs.  But when my future kid is going to college, do I tell them that and say, "Push yourself if you want to succeed"?  Or do I trust him to trust God and remember that you know what.  Kingdom values are different.  Christ followers are different.  It doesn't mean we neglect academia and succeeding in our profession, but it means we left Jesus' words affect how we approach these things. 

10.  The past three items often just lead me to sigh, wish our world wasn't the way it was, and imagine how glorious heaven will be.  Makes me think about things like Eden and redemption and shalom and how God must have intended the world to be...

Sorry the last four were Debbie Downer status.

Three on Tuesday

Well, not really feeling like coming up with ten...but I will give you three!

1.  I recently bought a pair of white shorts (longer than Bermuda shorts, just above my knees...what are these called?  Beats me.  Every new clothing item has a name.  Anyway.).  I own very few white items, let alone white pants.  But I realized something today:  if all you do is sit in a office and move from one cushioned office chair to the next, the main chances you have for getting your pants dirty is spilling your coffee!  At the same time, I realized I shouldn't wear these cute white shorts on days when I'll want to sit on grass or lie on the ground.  Because I do that all the time, you know.

2.  I used to really love Hello Kitty and Sanrio and had a lot of related things.  In 8th grade, we went to a Sanrio store on my birthday so I could pick out a present.  I picked out a light blue desk drawer set (ohhoho practical even then!) which I have just brought back into my Stockton home.  Save the color, it doesn't fit anything in my room.  But oh well, I needed the drawers.

3.  I'm getting really tired of Bruno Mars' "The Lazy Song."  Partly because it makes me think, "Well good for you, Bruno.  Doesn't work when you have work, chores, bills, etc..." However, I like to think that Bruno is a hard worker, being a recording artist, producer, writer, and all that stuff.  Still...

Luke 5

One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, the people were crowding around him and listening to the word of God. He saw at the water's edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he sat down and taught the people from the boat.

When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch."  Simon answered, "Master, we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets."

When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break.  So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.  When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus' knees and said, "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!" For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon's partners.

Then Jesus said to Simon, "Don't be afraid; from now on you will fish for people." So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him.

________________

She answered--"Jesus, I've done this over and over again and nothing's changed, we haven't gone anywhere.  But because you say so, I will listen to you.  I will do as you say."  

And after she had done so, she saw her life so full, so provided for that surely Jesus is there, God is guiding her.  She fell at Jesus' feet and said, "Jesus, who am I?  How can I ever follow you?"  For she was astonished at what she had seen Jesus do in her life and of those around her.

And he says to her, "Don't be afraid, from now on you will fish for people."  So she stopped her engineering plans, left everything and followed him.

How is fundraising going?

An oft-asked question at this point in life.


Fundraising is a whirlwind of emotions.  Every hour spent on support-related things (writing emails, mailing letters, logging responses, writing and rewriting lists of people to meet) is a fight to remember that God is in control, prayer is a necessity, and that this is worthwhile.  With each letter, the half worry of How will they respond?  Will they respond?  What will they think?  Am I being appropriate?

I tell myself several things during this time:

• Prayer is more important than finances.  It is incredibly hard to remember that an afternoon spent in prayer will do more than an afternoon spent checking things off my list.  The only way that works?  God > me.  Why is that so hard to believe? 
• Don't take it personally.  If someone does not respond or does not support, it's not personal.  I do not know their finances, their heart/ministry focus, their reasoning.  
• This is valuable.  I remind myself that I have seen Jesus transform lives and that I want to see this for even more students. 

God is in control.  He is the one who provides, he is the one who strengthens those who follow him.  Ministry has been going on since creation; I am not the first one.  

And what about all the times he has provided even in this past year?  Can I be so quick to forget?  Provision, provision, provision. 

This doesn't make it easy, though.  The thought of asking for consistent support, to invest in something long-term, to be doing something that people don't expect...to open up my inbox to no responses, to leave more voicemails...

Sometimes it feels like a neverending stream of mini-prayers.  God, what am I doing?  God, you know my heart.  God, remind me why this matters.  You are in charge.  It is not about me.  It is not my ministry. 

But there are moments of extreme encouragement:  my Stockton home church so willingly transferring support from Shannon to me, friends responding positively with just one short email.  Pieces that remind me that God is orchestrating my life, and he will do a far better job of it than I ever can. 

Rest & Recovery

I got this weird-funky sickness on Saturday, like a 10 hour flu or something.  After a whole lot of sleeping, yesterday I was back to almost-normal (though after two points on the Ultimate field I decided I shouldn't push myself anymore since my body's still recovering...), and today I might venture to say that I am fine.  However, lying in bed miserable and frustrated triggered several thoughts that have been floating around in my mind recently, including:

• I need to take care of myself better.  Action item:  Eat breakfast, warm up before working out (hah...), actually try to sleep enough.
• I cannot fake that my personal time with God has been sufficient.  Action item:  Take my quiet times on campus on the way back from work, before I even get home.  Did this today--it was wonderful.
• Put fundraising back in perspective. aka--nothing in your life is so important that the world will collapse if you do not do it RIGHT NOW.  Action item:  Center my heart on scripture and stop treating fundraising like a term project I need to tackle. 
• Rest, and do something about building it back into my schedule.  Tentative action item:  Friggin turn off my laptop at 11 pm already!  I'm not doing anything particularly significant by that time, and I could really use the time to unwind or read or...anything but get to 12:30 pm and think whoops-closealltabsitstimeforbed!

On to the rest of the evening!  PCF Lite-rs are coming over for hangout and games, and because I can't make brownies because I have baked potatoes in the oven, I whipped together some tuna dip to go with the saltine crackers Ken and Janine brought me on Saturday but I have little desire to finish now.

Speaking of baked potatoes, I should probably go eat them now so I'm not caught with the awkward oh-you-just-showed-up-well-let-me-finish-my-dinner...

Wrecked nerves.

I just made my first fundraising call in Chinese.  To a family friend/FRCC church member who has known me for the past few years, yes...but wow my heart is racing.  A combination of having no confidence built up in asking yet and being so rusty in Chinese.  Nerve wrecking!  Panic!  Hopefully okay!  Was it inappropriately asked?  Will they say something to my parents?

I'm going to need a lot more Jesus if this is to go on.  I can't decide if this is easier over the phone or in person.

Ahhhh.

This is my combination of Chinese characters, pinyin (mandarin phonetic alphabet), and roman alphabet phonetics to attempt some sort of phone script...forgive my lack of Chinese language understanding!!

This is so emotional.

I'm going to dub these days Coffeeshop Productivity Days.  Hours at Empresso with an iced caramella latte (I'm on my ninth stamp here.  One more and I get a free drink!) with my laptop, Big Contacts, excel spreadsheets, and letters and letters and people and people working on fundraising for InterVarsity.

For those who don't know, IV is a non-profit and all its employees are required to raise a certain level of financial support, much like overseas missionaries do.  As I'm going through this, it's this strange complicated net of contacting people, written communication, phone calls, prayer, questions, doubts, excitement, mission, vision, and calling all wrapped into this...life.

When we went to Fund Development training last month, we discussed how fundraising/support development is really a spiritual issue.  You're inviting people into God's mission, you're trusting God for provision, you're believing that the calling he has given you is true and worth it.

And yet in writing all these letters and slowly moving towards inviting people to support the ministry, the mess of personal concerns and issues comes into play.  Are they disappointed I'm not doing engineering?  How do I respect cultural norms but not lose opportunity when I need to be direct?  What if they're already supporting others?  What if I'm not supported well enough by fall semester and can't be on campus?

I remind myself of several things during this time:

• As followers of Christ, we believe that he owns all and we are stewards of what he has given us.
• Not everyone is called to support everything.  If their heart is for college ministry, cheers!  If not, then other areas that they may be supporting are equally important (urban ministry, global missions, healthcare, etc). 
• Don't take it personally.  Don't take it personally.  Don't take it personally.  
• We are excited to find partners, people who will be praying for the campus, students, and ministry, whether they are alumni of a college ministry or simply excited for what God is doing
• I am encouraged by the people who have always loved and supported me and continue this through IV as well!  Thank you, thank you--it's like a nice little foundation in this big mess of howdoIevenstartthis? 
• Well, Jehovah Jireh, you've provided and stepped in so many times before.  Who am I to doubt that you won't do so again?

And so, my afternoon at Empresso continues with a plethora of mini-tasks that I can't even cross off my to-do list.  But I promise I'm being productive.  

P.S.  If you bring in your own tumbler for your beverage, you get 10 cents off!

Oops

Dear Blog,

When I decided I would start blogging again, I did so with the mentality that it would be live, somewhat buzzing with activity, real, and current.  I rolled my eyes at the "dead" blogs that have few updates so far apart...and yet this has become one of them.

But there is a reason for starting this.  Part for others--a way to glimpse into my oh.so.complicated life because so many are not physically around.  Part for myself, because even though a majority of the time life seems to be exploding in five hundred directions at once, I was thinking the other day and I don't really know what I would change about life. At this moment.

(That may be because there are so many things associated with everything else that changing one thing would change ten million others, like those time-travel movies that never work out.  But let's ignore that.)

So let's try this again.  Try to write, albeit short and incomplete.  Maybe random, maybe spontaneous, maybe intentional.  Anything to get into the kick of writing, to recording things down after those moments I think, I should/could probably write about this.


How will this work amidst my ever-growing list of to-do's?  Er, we'll figure it out.  For now, I should probably be in bed...

Official

I just printed my first prayer letter on IV letterhead.

Whoaaaa.

On a different note.  Fundraising is going to be fun this summer.  And by "fun" I mean "a-lot-of-work-but-I'll-trust-it'll-be-so-worth-it"!  Also many stamps to buy and envelopes to address.

Wheeee!

My life is way too adventurous.

So last night Darrell and I were walking out to my car at his apartment complex.  We passed an empty parking spot, and I stopped and looked at it and said, "My car used to be there."

Turns out that someone checks the private residence for parking permits in the middle of the night...and my car got towed.  Well, at least it wasn't hotwired and stolen.

On a lame note, they charge $175 for towing, then $80 if you pick it up after hours.  But if you wait till the next day for business hours, then it's a $50 storage fee.  SIGH.

On a good note, the wonderful bf picked me up before work so we got my car back.  Fortunately, my parents had just switched the registration to my name a couple months ago...just in time, as they only accept credit cars from the registered owner.  Thank God!

And now after all that adventure, D and I are going on a hot date night to Matsuyama's and then to the theatre to watch The Odd Couple.  We are so classy.  And I am wearing the new jewelry my lovely mom got me :)

Happy Friday!

See you later

I just said goodbye to my good friends Kaben and Jenn Kramer, who are leaving this Sunday to northern Uganda.

At least five of my friends are going on short-term missions this summer, but the Kramers will be the first of my friends to leave long-term.  I had all these feelings translated into words in my head, but now that I'm writing I can't think of it.

At the least, there is this:  The Kramer's leaving is one of those times that you realize you can't do anything but pray.  Getting together a good bye gift, a two-page letter amidst all their paperwork...is perhaps not the best way to love them.  And in the end, prayer is what we need anyway.

Besides, a lengthy goodbye is perhaps unnecessary anyway.  Though I am a big fan of articulate, deep messages...I want them to leave with the joy of being sent, and I know the weight of saying goodbye to the home they have known is already heavy enough.  Kaben knows how much I have valued his friendship.  And God willing, we will see them again.

Sometimes I think I've gotten used to the cycle of goodbyes.  Other times it feels like an old muscle I've forgotten how to use.

Random

I wonder how many times I can rewrite a to-do list until I actually start doing it?  Hmm....

Commencement

On Saturday, I walked around in this flow-y black robe with a square on my head and participated in Commencement and Graduation ceremonies at Pacific.  It was a bit funny to have done it five months after I actually finished classes (but less funny than if I had done it before, in my opinion!), and I also think there's a part of me that just really doesn't know how to make a big deal of myself (aka celebrate), whether it be birthdays, awards, or occasions like this. 

Fortunately, I'm blessed with people who love me and do the job for me...?  That sounds funny.  Anyway, the whole family came up and packed themselves into our little house (Lauren and Nat graciously invited themselves upstairs) the night before, with the two brothers sharing the futon!  Anyway, between them, Darrell, undergrads who came, and long-distance friends who surprised me (Rob! Troy! Jackie! Harrison!), it was a delightful day!  Topped off by an eight-player game of Nertz with my friends and siblings and crepes for dinner.  

Lauren made me a handmade card and one of the things she wrote was how this isn't so much about graduating from college, but about the start of another phase of life (paraphrased).  And that, I think, is something I feel like I can celebrate.  The commencing of the next adventure--the upcoming training as an intern, the phasing out of student responsibilities, the settling of roots in friendships not connected to students I'm discipling.  

And I just got a new planner for the upcoming academic year so I can write in all the upcoming dates...it's all starting very, very soon!!

(I was going to post a picture of me in the fancy-looking graduation outfit, but D played photographer for the day and I haven't gotten them from him yet...)

Green Beanie

It's the intersection I'm so familiar with, one I've driven by since my childhood.  Right at the corner of the center of Target, with gas stations on three corners and a church building on the fourth, the intersection where you turn to get to the freeway.  It's not uncommon to have panhandlers there, usually a scraggly, tired man with a cardboard sign.  When I was young, I remember my dad making some comment that they were there by choice, could get themselves out of their situation, were lazy, etc. You know.

When I drove up this time, there was a scraggly, tired man with a green beanie.  His cardboard sign said, "Disabled - Unable to work."  I don't think it asked directly for money.  But hey, I'm learning to give and to love, I'm sure Jesus would want me to give to this man who probably didn't do anything wrong.  I pull out my wallet and feel a little generous, so I call him over with a "Sir".  He leans a little out of his wheelchair to reach for the five in my hand.  

"Thank you,"  he says.

Then I realize how ill-timed this was.  I had just missed the green left turn light, which is why I had time to pull out my wallet.  But that meant the cycle of lights and turns had just begun...Awkward.  I didn't want to close my window at him just because I already gave him money.  Attempting to strike conversation, I mention something about how I'm glad the wind has died down (No! Why say that? Perhaps he was out in this wind?), I sit there with my radio turned off and twiddling my thumbs in the front seat...he throws out another, "Thank you, again."  And finally the light turns green, I say good bye and pull away in relief.

The thoughts hit me as I pull on to the freeway.  This isn't effective, is it.  What if I offered him a ride in my car to a restaurant, got to know him, listened to his needs, and connected him to a solution?  But I'm not even aware of unemployment services in my hometown. But I'm going to be late.  How do I recognize that giving money to people is not a solution, yet not use that as an excuse?  Even the oft-paraded, "Take them for a meal" now bothers me:  one meal doesn't solve the solution either (the justification is often that hey! they might use the money for drugs! alcohol! breaking the law!).  And where is the line between precaution (don't help them feed their addiction) and judgement (every person on the street is an alcoholic or a druggie)?  And how many of us have actually fed someone from the streets or taken her in to buy food and groceries?  You know, let them interrupt your life and all.

Somewhere somehow I've discovered that just money cannot solve anything.  The part of me that is startled by the questions raised by this one interaction is frustrated to realize that I wish it did, wish I could throw money at people and that would solve their problems.  Wishes I could just give $5 to the man in the green beanie in the wheelchair and feel good about myself and the world. 

Almost Midnight Breakfast

Not pictured:  3 delicious breakfast casseroles.

Tonight was PCF's annual Almost Midnight Breakfast, where we "pass the torch" from the old leaders to the new leaders.  It's a night of breakfast casseroles (yum!), hanging out, and grouping together with our leadership teams.  We share a little of the people who have impacted our lives this year, rejoice in what God has done, and excitedly look forward into what God will do next year.

This is also an exciting night because it's the first time next year's ministry teams meet up.  The Justice Team I'll be staff liaison for listened as Shannon and Andrew shared their stories and lessons learned from this year.  They challenged us to listen for stories, love people, seek our basis in scripture, and pursue what God has called us instead of being overwhelmed by the injustice in the world.

I am excited for next year.  It was exciting simply to look around the room and eavesdrop on this year's leaders share their experiences, to imagine what next year will look like.  Specifically with Justice Team, I am excited that each student on the team wants to be there, and they come with their own passions and insights.  God has "imprinted" justice on their hearts in some sort of way, and they desire to live it out.

We have some hardcore homework assignments for the summer, including reading Practical Justice, volunteering at a soup kitchen/child program/homeless shelter/etc., reading the newspaper, and calling up our J-Team partner weekly.  But this is like the farmer tilling the soil, breaking it, softening it so it'll be ready for next year's crop.

Current and next year's leaders!

If you want to be in prayer for the leaders I'll be working with next year, the students I will be in close contact with are my small group co-leader Nathan H and Justice Team members Nic C, Julie G, Christine H,  Colin M, and Kyle S.

Easter Sunday

He is risen!
He is risen, indeed!

Easter Sunrise Service in Stockton, 4/30/2011

Stocktonians from 100 different churches and faith-based organizations gathered for the 6 am Easter Sunrise Service at the waterfront downtown. As the sun rose behind us, we listened to Reverend Kevin White from Crosstown Community Church remind us that people don't just need more organizations, more money, more jobs--they need a real, breathing, resurrected, living Jesus.  Parts of it sounded a bit like a political rally, and a few of us were hesitant to cheer along with "Stockton is the best place to live!"

Still, if there is any day for believers to get together, this is it.  It was a beautiful reminder that many, many love this city and its residents.  No person is alone in fighting for rights, justice, love.  No church is the only one who cares.  And none of this would make sense if our Jesus had not conquered death and is not still alive today.

On a different note, seeing as I am from a family that does not celebrate Easter, this past one is likely my most memorable one.  After returning from the sunrise service, Nathan, Darrell, Natalie and I had a real big breakfast:  eggs cooked in bacon grease, pancakes with whipped cream and syrup, bacon, sausage, orange juice, and milk.  Then we went to Stockton Covenant Church for their 10 am Easter service.  Later, a number of us went to Pastor Bud's house for an absolutely amazing linner of salad, deviled eggs, asparagus, ham, homemade dinner rolls, and all sorts of deliciousness.  Did I mention the table was set with placeholders, two forks, and actual linen napkins?  What a warm afternoon!

It's a folksie sort of day

The Cave - Mumford & Sons
So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's hand

So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again
_________________________________________


And the day after another hard conversation, the sun shines again and it's a beautiful day.  Amidst brokenness, there is hope.  Amidst mistakes, there is grace to try again.  Amidst hurting each other, we choose to love again.  Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, we press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called us heavenward in Christ Jesus.  And in the honesty, the fault, the confession, there is beauty and trust and another step ahead. 


It's a good day. 

For the widows in paradise; For the fatherless in Ypsilanti

I have called you preacher; I have called you son.
If you have a father or if you haven't one,
I'll do anything for you. I did everything for you

I have called you children, I have called you son.
What is there to answer if I'm the only one?
Morning comes in Paradise, morning comes in light.
Still I must obey, still I must invite.
If there's anything to say, if there's anything to do,
If there's any other way, I'll do anything for you. 

__________________________________________

On repeat as I write my outline for a presentation about the Kolkata GUT.

Ten on Tuesday: The Life is Crazy Edition

How is it that I'm still feeling the end-of-the-year crunch even though I'm not a student or a staff member?  Fortunately, I'm not cramming for finals or rushing projects, but I am scheduling a bazillion things in these last two and a half weeks:

1.  Fulfillment of PCF Auction items:  Baking banana bread with a few PWF girls and photoshooting the guys.

2.  Photoshoot for Connie and Bre  =)

3.  Joining Natalie and Nick in learning Yoga (Natalie's auction prize)

4.  PCF's Almost Midnight Breakfast to pass the torch from this year's leaders to next year's leaders

5.  City-wide Easter sunrise service--I'm so excited for this!  I've wanted to go but have never made it.

6.  School of Engineering and Computer Science Senior Project Day--so happy to not be presenting!!  but I'll probably take pictures--and Senior Banquet

7.  Commencement and Diploma & Hooding, preceded by squeezing my whole family into this house the night before!

8.  Potentially dinner with our landlady

9.  Pacific's Dance Recital

10.  Trying to see people before they leave.

Oh did I mentioned this is all happening in less than twenty days?  Wheeeeeeeee!  

It's happened before

Sifting through photos to put on a powerpoint.  Flipping through journals to trigger my memory.  Reading prayer letters in familiar formats, including re-reading my own from last year.  Re-reading old entries I had blogged about just in preparation for the Kolkata GUT.  Part of it seems so long ago, so surreal.  A duffel bag for all my clothes?  Saying goodbye to my world for six weeks? 


I read what I wrote about my parents and their reaction and find it so similar to the recent happenings with IV staff.  

In hindsight, I think I was merely hoping that my parents wouldn’t object too much to my going.  I didn’t even consider that, with their own faith, they would actually be excited (yeah, sounds kinda silly now that I think about it).  And I didn’t even realize how much more encouraging their support is.

Sound familiar?  Not to say there wasn't initial resistance and to discredit the way I braced myself for any oncoming questions and doubts about staff.  But I was so surprised when they outright said they supported me, were excited for me, were proud of me.  I somehow forget God works in my parents lives as much as he works in mine.

And then I read about how funding came in so quickly and in so much abundance.  How surprised I was, how amazed I was that God took care of things before I "even had a chance to pray about them."  And I look at the job that I have now, I look at how housing is working out, I think of all the blessings and provision as of late.  Do I really have a reason to doubt?

Luke 12:27-31“Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

Oh me of little faith.  It's a good thing we can repeat lessons.

10

1.  Lauren got a pet rat last week!  The little black furry guy is the cutest rat I've seen.  Way better than the giant brown ones in India.

2.  The PCF Auction last week raised $1000!  I'm beginning to really love this event and seeing what people come up with.  From a wallet made from comic strips to drum lessons (that went up to $65) and so much more...it sure raises a good amount of money while giving students a good chance to chip in to scholarships that they may very well apply for :)  

3.  I'm getting paid to shoot at ASCE mid-pac this weekend.  Two back-to-back days of shooting in who-knows-what kind of environment...but at least I'll get a good chance to see some of my civil buddies. 

4.  Been jamming to the New Life Project--good music, good stuff.

5.  Sometimes I decide I'm going to break my own rules...that being said, I am too tired to write ten things today!

Tangible provision

Recently my life has been overwhelmed by provision and grace.  And not just the God-dealing-with-my-inside-being grace, but tangible, real grace I can see and...well, I was going to say explain, but I can't really explain it. 

Perhaps it will make more sense if I just list some crazy things that have happened these past few months:

• Job #1:  Working the the School of Engineering and Computer Science is a blessing I cannot describe.  Perhaps the best work hours I could possibly need:  4 hours every morning that get me out of bed but let me off by lunchtime so I can have the rest of the day for life or ministry-related things.  A gracious supervisor who recognizes my commitments with IV and is willing to be flexible.  Decent pay.  Plus--I didn't even really apply for this job.  The short version is that this job basically fell into my lap.  The long version of this isn't that much longer.
• Job #2:  Though I had quite a lot of time with only working one part-time job and not really interning yet, I did not even consider taking on a second job.  But babysitting for one of the professor's just opened up.  Six hours a week with a 3.5 year old and a 6 month old is a bit tiring, but once again the pay is good and the extra income definitely helps!  I reiterate again that I did not look for this job.
• Furniture for the Yellow House:  Lauren and I have been in conversation about investing in making our home a hospitable place where people would not only feel welcome, but also comfortable.  If opportunity presented itself, we were willing to invest money in dining room chairs, couches, and a TV.  But as I was studying the book of Mark and Jesus' critique against material possessions and pondering what it meant to be a good steward of the money I have, I had a thought:  What if we didn't spend one dollar and God just provided everything for the Yellow House?
  Being of kinda-little faith, I wasn't willing to challenge God to do that, but I thought it'd be cool if it happened.  Here is what has happened this past month:
• I went back home and asked for the cushioned folding chairs my parents had invested in for home group (which they are no longer leading).  They were happy to donate them, and now we actually have enough chairs for eight to sit around our dining room table!
• Our good friend Harrison moved out of his apartment and passed on his unneeded furniture.  This includes a dish chair, a stool, another folding chair, and a bean bag.  The bean bag is one of those things that I had always wanted but recognized as a luxury and not a necessity...but now we have one!!
• Harrison also gave us a DVD player, and we hooked it up to an old TV from the 90's that Lauren had in her closet.  It's actually the first TV her parents bought after their marriage, but it works! 
• Geoffrey's uncle is getting new couches and wants to get rid of his old ones.  Geoffrey said, "You probably need them more than I do", so in a few months we're going to get real. couches.  Not just 10-year-old, falling apart, mis-matched college apartment couches.  Matching comfy forest green couches with pillows.  A couch and loveseat.  I am. so. excited. for. couches.  
• Dental Care.  This story is so ridiculous it needs it's own entry.  So, so amazed.
• Housing situation:  With Natalie moving upstairs in the fall, Lauren and I will be in need of a third roommate.  Last night she told me that she had found one!  A girl from her Bible study is living with her parents and is looking to move out.  And suddenly we don't have to worry at all about raising rent because we won't have enough roommates...
• Parent's support:  As my family is about to hit some tricky times, my parent still express their hope to support me on IV staff next year.  Compared to the initial reaction when I first told them about staff seven months ago...ah.  

At the end of our Kolkata trip, we studied the story of Jonah.  This verse stuck out to me then and continues to ring in the back of my head now:

"Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs."  Jonah 2:8

Coincidentally (?), when Natalie and I were on our way to SF to start the whole dental-care-thingee, we were wondering how we live a lifestyle that reflects God's Kingdom and our trust in his provision.  The thought at that time was this:  If we were always so quick to fix our own problems, when would we give God a chance to show himself as one who provides?  Given, there is an element that is our responsibility, such as still applying for jobs or managing our money well so we can use it well.  But still:  what if we had bought a TV, a couch, chairs?  Would we have recognized that God was plopping it all in front of us (for free!) if we had already acquired everything on our own?  Surely if I had dental insurance I wouldn't see this network of friends-acquaintances-parents draw together to just...give.

Life baffles me sometimes.  

If his grace is an ocean, we're all sinking.

Flashbacks of India

The weather is warm in Stockton again, so I put on my lightweight cargo pants, a t-shirt, and my Merrell sandals. The cargo pants were the only non-salwar pants I wore for 6.5 weeks.  I wore them on the long plane flight, I rolled them up in the humidity of Bangkok.  The sandals have trudged through puddles, mud, and likely even feces.  They stayed on my feet in the chaos of being shoved on and off the trains.  They have tread the alleys of red-light districts.

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Natalie and I meet Rob in Berkeley and go to a restaurant with Pakistani, Mexican, and Indian cuisine.  The Indian menu is familiar and I want to order and eat everything:  veg pakora, samosas, mango lassi, palak paneer, galab jamun, and combinations of masala, chicken, curry, paneer.  Gobi for cauliflower, aloo for potatoes.  We order just like how Jane, Rich, and I used to order at Ricky's:  one naan each, a chicken dish, a vegetable dish.  We break the naan dip it in the tender and flavorful chicken curry.  The paneer is a bit firm but the masala makes it worth it. 

The women who serves us is wearing a goldenrod salwar.  There is complimentary tea, which we excitedly discover is actually spiced chai.  Milky and sweet, we drink it in cups three times larger than the small clay cups for two rupees on the streets of India. 

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In two weeks, I will be making a presentation to one of my old churches about my Kolkata trip.  It has been nine months since my return, and now I must find a way to summarize it.  The Poverty Timeline floats back into my head, and I wonder where to begin.  How do I articulate the beauty?  How do I talk for thirty minutes and trust that God is moving hearts where they are ready?  How do they understand this is more than a humanitarian effort, a sacrificial summer?  No, it is a calling for us all. 

And I must make the same presentation in Chinese.

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Nearly every day I stand at the crosswalk waiting for the line to turn.  Anytime there is a someone else waiting with me, I can't help but notice the distance between us.  In India, the people are crowded around you; if the train is in sight, you are pressed sweaty-arm-to-sweaty-arm.  But here a radius of several feet is our normal personal bubble.  Any closer and the stranger may feel uncomfortable, intruded upon. 

Sometimes this still feels foreign to me.

Jungle Dentistry

A week and a half ago, I woke up to something crunchy in my mouth and discovered that one of my fillings had come out and there was now a big hole in one of my teeth.  For the curious, it is the fourth tooth from center on the top right part of my mouth.  For the teeth-inclined, my almost-dentist friends have said it is one of my pre-molars.

Anyway, this proved particularly difficult because I am about to have no dental insurance, and everyone knows dental work is pretty pricey.  But we have several friends who are dental students, so yesterday Natalie and I road-tripped our way out to SF to hang out with our friend Ester and to see what Leslie had to say about my tooth.

Leslie came prepared with all these tools and materials, and to make a long story short, I found myself in the middle of what I refer to as Living Room Dentistry: sitting on Ester's couch, leaning my head back as Leslie stood over me in her jeans, T-shirt, and fancy bright light, dental tools spread all across Ester's dining room table.  I was amazed at how prepared Leslie was:  I thought it'd be a quick check of "It's not that bad, we can get it fixed soon" or "Sorry to say, it's pretty bad."

Turns out it is pretty bad.  I'll skip all the details and terms, but yeah it's pretty bad.  Regardless, Leslie eventually decided it'd be better to put in a temporary filling than to leave the hole in my tooth exposed.  This is where a little craziness starts happening:  Because we weren't completely equipped in the living room, the dental students start getting a bit creative.  With the uncertainty from such a unique case, a lack of materials, and no X-Rays, Natalie called her mom (who has experience in mission-field, random-situations clinical dentistry) to get some advice.  Eventually Leslie's roommate Lori and another PCF alum/friend Al, both third-year students, end up in this living room dental office as well.  As materials weren't cooperating or were running short, they kicked in creative measures with kitchen materials and mixing materials by hand.  Each person also ran back to their rooms and various times to grab other materials--Lori even brought in some of the stuff she had on a dental mission in Peru!

Several things about the whole afternoon amazed me:

• The confidence of third-year students to have the guts to just do what would be best for me.  I feel I would have been hesitant to act outside a clinic in a living room, but these ladies were so determined to make a temporary filling for protection.
• The absolute. ridiculousness. of living room dentistry.  Natalie's term was Jungle Dentistry, referring to the kind of health missions that happens in a jungle when materials are sparse and you get creative with whatever you have.  Chopping boards, any sharp object, sanitizing the area with Chlorox (suggestion courtesy of Dr. Ito)...
• A whole afternoon of precious time for dental students--enough said.
• The genuine curiosity of the students.  I guess this is understandable that they would be excited to put into practice what they learn in class, but still.  The extra effort put into calling dentist friends, drawing on information studied, combining ideas...I think they'll be good dentists someday

So the whole in my mouth got temporarily filled, but we still had no long-term solution.  Then Al mentioned her father has a practice in South San Francisco and offered to ask if he would see me.  A few hours later we talk on the phone, and his associate will see me.  Free. of. charge.  This is still a temporary solution:  clean up  the decay, remove any dead bad stuff, and put in a filling that should at least last several months.  

But as third-year students, both Al and Leslie need certain cases to complete for their clinics (or boards...I really am not sure).  I will likely need a root canal (Tangent:  Doesn't this sound like an ugly name for a procedure?), but that's also one of the things they'll need to complete.  The dental school does these at a reduced price, but even a ~40% reduction comes out to about $550.  But Al's dad is willing to pay for that procedure.

Here I am stuck at how to complete the story.  Partially it's because the story isn't over yet--I haven't actually made it to the dentist, I have no idea how long it'll take for everything to be finally worked out.  But the main thing is...what more can I say?  To have a $1k procedure--in a series of loops, blessings, and connections--free?  

The foresight God had into the whole thing baffles me.  To have Al return in time for Leslie to see her (we hadn't even called Al originally) so she would suggest her father's office.  Her father's willingness and generosity.  Even Natalie's history and interest in dentistry--who would have thought that would come into play so personally?

These freak, unpredictable expenses are the things that terrify me about stepping into ministry where I won't have a lot of extra money to spare.  Yet at this moment, all I can really say is Jehovah Jireh--My provider.