Take me with you

When I was in second grade, my parents sent me to live with my uncle's family in the city for a few months. My parents were ministering to the churches in the rural parts of Malaysia, but they wanted their daughter to receive a good education. This was the best temporary arrangement at the time. I suppose it was a bit like boarding school.

I am sure that they tried to explain their good intentions to me. But I was seven. The purposes of their ways were beyond my comprehension. The nights were particularly frightening and lonely. How I grieved that I had to pray by myself. I am sure it did not help that I peeked at the video my older cousins were watching during the day -- Michael Jackson's Thriller.

zombies + seven-year-old alone in a dark room = a bad idea

My parents visited as often as they could, driving through those mountainous roads. I know now how difficult it must have been for them. My mom was pregnant with my youngest sister at the time. I remember holding her and hanging onto her green maternity dress. Take me with you. Please bring me home. Let me stay with you.

Tonight marks the last night of our homeless, drifting living. I am done and undone.

We are filled to the brim with the kindness and generosity of our friends and family who took us into their lives. They swallowed us whole, loved us, and made us their own. Though I can see dimly how I have been changed, the purposes of my Father's ways are beyond my comprehension.

Pilgrim through this barren land,
I am weak but thou art mighty,
hold me with thy powerful hand. 

Guide me, O thou great Jehovah.

Take me with you.

Please bring me home.
Let me stay with you.

And tomorrow, we shall.
We shall be home.

Things that will be funny, someday

But you don't see me laughing, yet.

1. I crave strawberries, with balsamic vinegar, salt, and sugar.

2. I would put chilli in the mix, but I don't want Hans to judge me. Not that he would.

3. And while I am eating, I daydream that I am really eating cringe-worthy, sour, crispy mangoes. *drool*

Tangent, when my mom was pregnant with me, she had my dad knock on their neighbor's door begging for young mangoes from the neighbor's tree. I blame my cravings on her.

4. It took me three months to write a 24-page paper for my class on the book of Job. Three months.

5. One morning, I woke up and found out it was my professor's birthday (thanks, Facebook!). I decided that this paper must be turned in (two-months overdue, at that point). My children celebrated his birthday by watching nine episodes of Baby Einstein, and they had bread and jam for dinner. Like I said, this will be funny someday, but not yet.

6. Confession, I have never purchased a single bag of chicken nuggets in my life, and I have never fed my children chicken nuggets. Until now. I purchased three bags of chicken nuggets at Target the other day. I justified my irrational behavior to Hans by claiming that it was on sale -- buy two get one free!

7. I happily ate them with my concoction of ketchup and chilli sauce (the Vietnamese brand with a rooster and green lid).

8. I had a great disdain for fried chicken. Those greasy things! Out of the blue, it was all I wanted for dinner. Hans graciously indulged me, and drove his embarrassed wife to Popeyes. I feel a little nauseous just thinking about them.

9. I don't like chicken anymore. And I can't stand pork either. I am not a rational being.

10. I heart cheetos.

11. For two out of three meals last Thursday, I had toasted bagels, polish sausages, and jalapenos. The meat made me a little sick, but at least it was really salty. For two out of three meals on another day, I had toasted bagel with mashed avocado and salt. I do not crave bagel, but I do crave crispy things.

Speaking of crispy things, please excuse me while I go grab some multigrain chips, to be eaten with lots of salsa, and jalapenos.

12. When we were at Portillo's, Chicago's famous hotdog joint, I had no shame asking for lemons. Five times. They really should have given me a plate full. (Emeth devoured them with me! I wasn't the only one eating them!) I heart lemon with salt.

Did you know that farmers put blocks of salt out for pregnant cows to lick? It has something to do with the drastic increase of their blood volume. Makes sense to me. I feel like a cow nowadays.

13. I am as clumsy as a duck (I just spilled salsa on my mom-in-law's carpet), and my memory is as bad as a squirrel's. And I am (even more) hopeless now when it comes to numbers.

14. If I had the option, I can eat porridge with century eggs for every meal. But I don't know how to get my porridge to be sticky and gooey the way they serve it in Chinese restaurants.

15. Oh, and I forgot to mention, I am pregnant.

Breathing, bleeding stones

I woke up on Saturday morning to Hans' voice humming Moon River to me. It was the perfect song to begin our day together, the day we would be homeless -- together. With the help of dear friends, we packed up our earthly belongings, and drove away just as the sun was setting.

This was not part of the plan. How I fought and resisted the thought just a few weeks ago. But it was most difficult to remain sullen when we were drowning in love and kindness.

A small army invaded our home. They scrubbed beside me (sometimes instead of me), braved through the boys' toys and my kitchen things, and loaded up the trucks in the scorching sun. They filled the last few hours of our apartment of six years with roars of laughter, and their fine friendships.

So, until further notice, we do not have an address. We are drifters drifting. This world is indeed not our home. No, our home is not made of sticks and bricks, but living, breathing, bleeding stones.

Moon river wider than a mile
I'm crossing you in style someday
You dream maker, you heartbreaker
Wherever you're going I'm going your way

Two drifters off to see the world
There's such a lot of world to see
We're after the same rainbow's end
Waiting 'round the bend
My huckleberry friend, moon river and me