A Perfect European Day

[partial journal excerpt written on 1.8.2008 in Alexandria, Virginia - this entry is dedicated to Caitlin Vida, a dear friend and ex-roommate, who will be leaving for South Africa next Monday to serve with Youth For Christ for two years.]

Today was planned to be a “Caitlin day.” The weather was glorious – an expected 68°F in January.  Caitlin picked me up at the King St. metro station around 9am, and we drove to the outskirts of Alexandria, to a cutesy quirky café called, “Buzz.”

A “secret” path along the Potomac awaited us after the morning pick-me-up.  I call it “secret” – only because I was stunned I had never discovered this beautiful trail leading towards the marina and monuments during my two-year tenure in northern Virginia.  During our brisk walk, Caitlin and I caught up: my new life in Colorado, her bible study, a renewed relationship, and frustrations with the work status quo…She is well.

Our first stop at the marina was the Torpedo Factory.   Some nifty studios we visited included a sculptor whose vase creations contain fluorescent figurines in them.  The most striking piece I found was called, “911” – inside the dark vase was a fluorescent angel leading a fireman and child to heaven, flying hand in hand. 

We lingered especially long at an architect-trained artist’s gallery.  His specialty was re-creating sceneries from photographs and imposing elevation strata on the picture to give it a 3-D look.  The artist genius lies not in the recreation itself, but in the decisions the artists make about the height differentials in between contours of the picture itself.  His latest project is a panoramic of Jerusalem, which he plans to use the different thicknesses of the picture components to reflect the religious divides within the Holy City.  Caitlin asked the artist how he manages to travel so much, thus commencing a feast of delicious stories of culture, adventure, and cuisine.  He shared about the crazy gatekeeper who cussed his wife out because he was expecting a “reward” for returning her camera lens.  He described an airplane ride with a Hasidic Jew, who persistently refused to sit next to a woman, period.  In response, Caitlin recounted her experience with the mission team in Kenya – how the Kenyan children were just fascinated with her blonde curls, how the women of the slums welcomed her into their home…the micro-enterprise business model, and Caitlin’s oh-so-handy anti-bacterial wipes.  Then a deeper conversation ensued –the middle-age artists and two young professionals on a random Monday morning – of the paradox of Jerusalem, how the most objectively and culturally diverse metropolis in the world, was not - with all the hatred across cultures and religion - diverse at all; of how there are common languages between cultures: love, hope, motherhood, loneliness, death…but some people have simply refused to speak them.

*                                         *                                                       *

To this day, I still remember standing in amazement as I saw that conversation unfold.  I remember standing in awe of Caitlin, my once-next-door-roommate, of her exceptional gift to engage in the personal stories of others, and take time to implant a moment of eternity in their lives.  What boldness, what joy.  It was the perfect epitome of what it means to “live” – a leisure yet purposeful way of life that I had once knew during my study abroad days in Europe, but upon my return to the “busy” U.S. had soon forgot.  As a Christ follower, Caitlin showed me a day where what happened need not be orbitting around “my” plans, “my” goals, “my” desires.  Instead, it can be fully open to enjoying the beautiful things in life and the Holy Spirit.  Romans 8:1 says, “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.”  Dear Caitlin - as you embark on your journey to serve the teens and children in George, South Africa – I pray that you continue to live by the Spirit.  I pray that you continue to experience grace and joy that results from a life centered not on your own agendas.  I pray that you continue to embrace life with openness and guidance.  

I had always thought "to bless" was an affirmative act, which required pre-determination and effort.  What I did not know that it could also be totally of God's grace.  Caitlin has blessed me simply because of who she is in Christ, and I thank her for the life she rekindled in me, during our European Day in Alexandria two winters ago.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

- I Thessalonians 5:16-17

S and I are in this funny stage of our ill-defined "relationship," where we attempt to show affection, but often miss the mark.  Why wouldn't Jenny let me pick her up in Boulder?  What did S mean when he said, "Don't bother if you can't make it out on Sunday?"  Most of the time both of us crazy busy people are just trying to make things less burdensome and awkward for the other person, but oftentimes these reservations get interpreted (by yours truly) as "lack of affection," and (yours truly) end up in cycles of disappointment where I am left to wonder if he really cares for me or not.

The past few weeks have been especially hard, as my heart started to grow an emotional dependence on a fiction that does not exist.  No, we are not "dating," so no, there ought to be no entitlements or claim of right (darn Economic Analysis of the Law - you have patronized me.)  But subconsciously expectations have crept its way into our correspondence, and like a novice chess player, my breath became hinged on his next move. 

This passage in I Thessalonians has always been a shining imperative for me - a guide in times of trial, confusion, and sadness.  Indeed, I have been lifting up our situation for the past couple of weeks.  I have not been the happiest of person, although still found it necessary to "give thanks" to God for these mini-trials and frustrations.

But just today, I felt a gentle nudge to stop just  "giving thanks" for our "situation," but to start giving thanks for S, him, the person, the way he is, the way He has made him.  Yes, so that includes - the "Sometimes I don't feel like talking" S, the "I-didn't-realize-it's been-8-days S, the "I'm-hesitant-to-pursue-this-due-to-fundamental-thinking-grounds" S.   It's so crazy but after that revelation, all the sadness and disappointment I had towards him and our situation went away.  Instead, I began to see how intricately and oddly perfect the aspects of him, which I had found frustrating before, precisely exposes and challenges my many weaknesses: my constant need to be heard, my insecurities regarding affection, the pride I have in the art of persuasion - helping me to recognize that God still has a long way to go in me.  
 
Thus no, I am not sad anymore.  In lieu, there is a sweet delight, of seeing how fearfully and wonderfully God has put  him in my life (at least for this season) for a reason, and a hopeful (not the demanding emotional expectation kind) curiosity, of what's going to happen next.
 

Cultural Assumptions

"After they returned home, a txiv neeb performed the ritual chant that accompanied his journey to the realm of the unseen.  During the chant, the cow's severed head was sitting on the Lees' front stoop, welcoming Lia's soul.  When I asked the Lees whether any American passerby might have been surprised by this sight, Foua said, "No, I don't think they would be surprised, because it wasn't the whole cow on the doorstep, only the head."  Nao Kao added, "Also, Americans would think it was okay because we had the receipt for the cow."

- Anne Fadiman, "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down: A Hmong Child, her American Doctors, and the Collision of Two Cultures."

The weather was nice yesterday.  I had to make progress on this great novel we are reading in immigration law about a Hmong child's fight with epilepisy and the cultural collisions between her parents, the physicians, and the Government during her treatment.  Read the above passage on a bench by the law school and laughed my little butt off.

Mid-Autumn Festival

"In the beginning, God..." - Genesis 1:1

[An entry originally written in letter-form in Mandarin...apologizing in advance for the lost in translations.]

The sun and valley stretched before us as we drove southeast from Boulder, under sky as blue and unblemished as a pristine volcanic lake.  The aspens have matured into their golden crisp, and their clusters by the I-70 West exit shone like bells under the mid-morning sun.  The patches of orange and yellow of fall along the Booth Falls Trail beckoned us to put our Canon & Nikon to work.  "Click, click!  -awkward timer silence- Smile!"  What should have taken a normal hiker two hours to complete took us three and a half.  Most of the time  it was me making an excuse to stop, drink Gatorade, eat trail mix, and probe stories about our upbringings, childhood friends, career ambitions, tear-worthy movies, and the focal point of love and faith...

Getting to know S - this burgeoning of odd beginnings - reminds me a lot of my first beginnings with God some ten year ago.  A fantastical, yet freightening feeling: like the two forces at play in Newton's third law of physics - one of  great desire to understand and share, and the other of great fear that disappointment will follow from knowing too much.  I remember being a senior in high school , flipping through Psalm 139: "You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.  You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways... where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?" on a random Saturday night.  Partly thinking to myself, partly crying out: God - I do not understand this mystery, but your beauty I can see; I do not know if I can believe, but God - help me know if you exist.

Reflecting on the decision I made ten year ago - to make the plunge to center my life around Christ, I realized -perhaps a very ex post epiphany- that all relationships start with faith.  Although my understanding of the Trinity at age 17 was so limited in retrospect, in these years of my youth I have grown to love this God, depend on Him, and attribute Him my greatest joys.

So this is the so-called "relationship" - the will to believe in spite of the doubt and fears...

I once heard in a "Big Bang v. Christianity" lecture by a physical chemist from UPenn that one of the similarities between the Big Bang Theory and Genesis is the posture that everything started with something.  There was a distinct point in time that Universe came into being - with the "bang" or word of God - that created the very "beginning."  Like my relationship with God: I could still pinpoint that distinct moment of intial desire, that beginning.  This past Saturday was S and my first...uh, "date" (just say it, Jenny!), first official "dinner," and our first time even broaching the subject of relationships - our pasts, our reservations, and our expections.  There were no conclusions, no promises made, no five-year plans.  Just a beginning, and a lot of shortcake.  We both have no idea how things will pan out, but we agreed to choose to believe.  Take things as they come.  One day at a time.

Insecurity