Mud soaked in grace

Here is my answer to another favorite question from my single friends: "How do I know whether this person is the one for me?"

First, stop asking the question.
Because this question is fundamentally selfish.

Or perhaps you are dating and already thinking, "I have found the perfect one for me!" Watch out, you are also in for a rude awakening.

You are making your tastes, your needs, your values, your personalities as the central, deciding factors. So really, you are loving you, not the other person. And marrying a person because you love you is generally a bad idea.

While Adam was sleeping, God made Eve. Adam was awakened to the dawn of nuptial love. God did not throw Eve somewhere in the Garden and tell Adam "go find her!" No, God brought her to Adam. In the twilight, they walked in the Garden while the earth was still young. No other husband and wife knew joy so great, though their time was brief.

Therefore, the first thing to say about marriage is that it is a work of grace.

Marriage is God's work of grace in the lives of his children. Grace of the most profound sort. Grace we do not deserve. We were given, entrusted with the life of another human being. For this reason, marriage is suitable a picture of the Gospel. A picture of how the God-man Jesus Christ gave his life for his Bride.

So, do not ask "Who is the one for me?" Rather, we should be asking, am I standing in the way of grace? Do I have the right disposition to receive grace? Grace that I do not deserve.

What is this way of grace?
The way of grace is given to us by the entire counsel of Scripture.

We are not left with our ever-changing, unreliable feelings, and random, subjective experiences (Thanks be to God!). We have been given the counsel of God's Word, which remains true forever. He has revealed his will to us, including whom we are to marry. And we have been commanded to seek after, not husbands or wives, but the kingdom of God.

Our understanding of marriage, however, must not rely merely on the "marriage passages" or the "love passages." We need know the whole story in order to understand the specific passages about love and marriage. We need to know who God is, who we are, our struggles with sin, how God rescues us from our sin, and how we are to live in relationships with one another.

Emeth, who is four, has long started asking me about "his queen." And my answer to him is always the same: he must first learn to love Lady Wisdom. In this way, he will know how to love his queen. He must first learn to walk in the way of wisdom, by fearing God and keeping his commandments. Here, he will learn to stand in the way of grace.

With much fear and trembling (and a teeny bit of reluctance), I pray that my three sons would love wise women. In order to win wise women, however, they must first be wise young men. I don't want them to be exquisite vases looking for other exquisite vases. I want them to be good mud finding good mud. Mud soaked in grace. I pray that they would become suitable clay— broken and yielding—in order that they might be useful vessels for the glory of God.

So, how would you characterize someone who is wise? Here are just a few traits gleaned from the book of Proverbs. The wise person fears the Lord. Unlike fools, the wise person is aware of their foolishness and loves correction and discipline. The wise person prays, trusts in the Lord, bears much fruit, is hard-working, resourceful, kind, and knows how to reign over their tongues. Fools manipulate and take advantage of others; they are flirtatious, proud, dishonest, provocative, and lazy. They have no self-control especially over their tongues and their temper.

A few more words.

Not only have we been given the entire counsel of God's Word, we have also been given a cloud of witnesses. You should not be making this decision alone. Seek the counsel of God-fearing people who love you and who would watch out for you. And listen. Wisdom is discernible by others. In fact, your own vision might be a little (or more than a little) compromised by your feelings.

No matter how well we think we know the person we marry, we always marry people who are somewhat of a stranger to us. Because dates are not the same as real life. Because people change. And believe it or not, that's a very good thing. The knowledge that we are able to change is the very hope of marriage.

Part of me died at the altar on my wedding day. I died, in more ways than I understood. And I promised to be a new person, in more ways than I knew possible, with the one singing beside me. The amazing thing was that he promised to do the same. That he would die for me, to be with me, to be me.

The way of grace is narrow.
But its narrowness
is the narrowness of a birth canal.
There is an entire universe waiting on the other side.

A letter to the King's Daughter

Dearest sister,

I received word that you have been weary. I am writing in hopes to remind you of who you are. You are the Daughter of the King. Let your confidence not be in yourself or in other human beings, but rest your hope in the Gospel -- by which you have been rescued.

Our Father did not create us to be weak and powerless. He has given us strength to work and minds to think. Remember your charge. The children of the King are to be fruitful and have dominion over his creation. We were created to be rulers.

Therefore, the daughters of the King must know the King's law. For how shall we rule if we do not know the will of our Father? His Word gives life. Let his instructions cover our tongues and our lips like sweet honey. Be quick to apply it first to ourselves.

Remember our Father, and how he rules with patience and mercy. Remember our eldest brother, the Firstborn of our Father, and how he ruled. The cross was his throne, where Prince of Peace was glorified. He ruled by dying in our place, in order that we might be his family. Rule likewise in God's kingdom.

Look around you, for this is the domain to which you have been entrusted by the King. Is your domain your home? Is it your work place? Is it your school? Who are the people you see everyday? Who are the people nearest and dearest to you? What are their needs? How can you make your sphere a brighter, lovelier place?

Be ready to give grace, as the recipients of grace. You are an ambassador of our Father, you represent the King. Be a hostess wherever you go. It does not mean you are necessarily outgoing, or that you have to be the leader. Being a hostess simply means that you are attentive and mindful of other people. Do not wait around or expect others to be kind to you first. Engage people in conversations. Be watchful for those who might be in need of a friend. Being "shy" is sometimes another excuse to be self-centered. 

Our Father calls his children to be fruitful. So do not be idle. Never be doing nothing, always be doing something. Be busy with good works. Be certain about your purpose and your end. Labor with hope and joy. Go after things that last forever. Seize every opportunity to serve others. Make things for them, write to them, cook for them.

Dress as the daughters of the King. Present yourselves in a befitting manner, for we live and stand in the King's court. Our eldest brother suffered shame and nakedness in order that we might be clothed with his righteousness. So, cover yourselves — with humility and good works.

Love your brothers, for they are the sons of the King. Respect and protect them. Do not lead their hearts astray. One of them may be your husband (someday). As for the rest of them, you don't know to whom they belong. So, back off. (Until, of course, you know for sure he is yours to keep)

The daughters of the King rest in the King's thoughts towards us. We rest in our relationship with our Father. Therefore, we give, we love, without expecting to be loved in return. We do not need to freak out about today, or worry about tomorrow. When other hurts and despise us, show grace in return. Have the heart of an ocean, and not be shallow and easily disturbed — like a puddle.

Be self-aware, especially of the motivations in our hearts — why we do what we do. When we find sinful and self-glorifying intentions, repent. Let all reflection turn into repentance and thanksgiving.

We are passionate creatures. We were given emotions to love God and love others, though our tendency is to love ourselves. Resist morbid introspection, a.k.a. dumpster diving. Resist sentimentalism. Resist self-pity. These do not bear fruit. Do not work up all kinds of emotions and daydreams, indulging ourselves for the sake feeling something. When we fall into despair, lift our eyes to cross. When we feel needy, give.

Weary though you may be, keep your eyes on the cross and keep walking. Walk with your sisters, and occasionally — dance! Run! Rejoice always! For we belong to our Father, and Christ is our Brother. Remember who you are, by grace, you are the King's daughter.

Much love,
Your sister

Now, I must fight

I love my mom.

While I was growing up, one thing I loved about her was that I could tell her anything -- infatuations, bad decisions... well, almost anything. Now that I am a mom, I cannot imagine how much self-control it took for her to not completely flip out and smack me around. Probably because she was wise enough to know that it would not work.

When I fell apart, (oh, how I fell apart) she knelt with me, and searched for all the broken pieces. She never said "I told you so." Instead, she took up the sword and fought with me through the brambles of my foolishness and pain (oh, the pain). She was awesome.

I love my mom. I want to be just like her when I grow up.

The year I turned fifteen, I remember telling her about one particular infatuation, a bad one (I had a lot of bad ones). I told her I had it under control. And that I wasn't going to do anything stupid (riiight). To this day, I remember her words so clearly.

Ling, pride comes before a fall,
ni dong bu dong? (do you understand?)
Pride comes before a fall.

During these recent months, I long for her counsel and her sword, fighting beside me, fighting for me. I want to be a child again and curl up next to her, in the dark.

Crushes are no longer what they used to be, but they are as foolish as ever. Teenage boys no longer  appeal to me (thankfully). But once in a while, I find myself ambushed by new infatuations with the world. With things that I used to turn my nose up at. With things that I thought could never-ever-in-a-million-years tempt me. I have it under control. I would never do, or want, or think anything that stupid.

But again, I was wrong.

Instead of fleeing, I dance on the edge like a two-year-old (or a fifteen-year-old). I take a stroll under the forbidden tree. I gaze at the forbidden fruit. I have a little chat with the serpent. What's the harm in a little...education? Instead of crushing the daydreams in my mind, I treat the monster like a pet. He is so cute, so interesting. So I put him in my pocket. I take him out and admire him once in a while. Thinking, no body would know, he is my little secret.

All the while, the idolatry grows. Its foul smell eats me up inside. The monster peers its ugly head, ready to kill and devour.

Ma, you have given me the sword.
Thank you for preparing me.
Now, I must fight.

________________________________


Here are six ways that pride often manifest itself. I found them to be quite instructive. I am learning to be self-aware. I must say, though, having Hans around is great because he catches me before (and after) I fall.

This excerpt is taken from The Gospel-Centered Life,
Six Ways of Minimizing Sin.

Defending
I find it difficult to receive feedback about weaknesses or sin. When confronted, my tendency is to explain things away, talk about my successes, or to justify my decisions. As a result, I rarely have conversations about difficult things in my life.

Pretending
I strive to keep up appearances, maintain a respectable image. My behavior, to some degree, is driven by what I think others think of me. I also do not like to think reflectively about my life. As a result, not very many people know the real me (I may not even know the real me).

Hiding
I tend to conceal as much as I can about my life, especially the “bad stuff”. This is different than pretending in that pretending is about impressing. Hiding is more about shame. I don’t think people will accept the real me.

Blaming
I am quick to blame others for sin or circumstances. I have a difficult time “owning” my contributions to sin or conflict. There is an element of pride that assumes it’s not my fault AND/OR an element of fear of rejection if it is my fault.

Minimizing
I tend to downplay sin or circumstances in my life, as if they are “normal” or “not that bad." As a result, things often don’t get the attention they deserve, and have a way of mounting up to the point of being overwhelming.

Exaggerating
I tend to think (and talk) more highly of myself than I ought to. I make things (good and bad) out to be much bigger than they are (usually to get attention). As a result, things often get more attention than they deserve, and have a way of making me stressed or anxious.

Singing in the dark

My children cry, a lot. We tell them to stop. Big boys don't cry. But --

Jesus cried. The manliest man wept. The king of glory groaned over his lost sheep. The divine warrior mourned in the garden.

So what are we to teach the boys?

On Sundays, we sing praises to God in the congregation. We sing about his greatness, what he has done, what he will do, and we make petitions for grace. We sing songs that lift our souls out of the miry bogs of the week.

Nothing wrong with singing happy songs. Sundays are happy days. But praises are not enough. They cover only part of the Psalms. Remember the laments, chaos, disorientation, hopelessness, meaninglessness. They, too, are part of God's Word. This is the story of God's people, from the beginning. This is the story of the Psalms. This is our story. We move from lament to praise, chaos to order, again and again and again.

So, cry, weep, groan.

The shepherd is listening, and he suffered. He cried, and he died for his lost sheep, for you.

So, in time, we will teach our boys to weep, for the right reasons, in the right way -- to God. For this, too, is worship. Let the tears fall, little ones. And remember his tears thick like blood that washed away our sins.

Let God's people mourn. Let us weep together, and weep over sins and meaningless suffering. Give us songs to sing in the dark.

A reflection on Psalm 42

I have lost my appetite
And a flood is welling up behind my eyes
So I eat the tears I cry
And if that were not enough
They know just the words to cut and tear and prod
When they ask me “Where's your God?”

Why are you downcast, oh my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
I can remember when you showed your face to me

As a deer pants for water, so my soul thirsts for you
And when I behold Your glory, You so faithfully renew
Like a bed of rest for my fainting flesh
I am satisfied in You.

When I'm staring at the ground
It's an inbred feedback loop that brings me down
So it's time to lift my brow
And remember better days
When I loved to worship you in all your ways
with the sweetest songs of praise

Why are you downcast, oh my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
I can remember when you showed your grace to me

As a deer pants for water, so my soul thirsts for you
And when I survey Your splendor, You so faithfully renew
Like a bed of rest for my fainting flesh
I am satisfied in You.

Let my sighs give way to songs that sing about your faithfulness
Let my pain reveal your glory as my only real rest
Let my losses show me all I truly have is you

So when I'm drowning out at sea
And your breakers and your waves crash down on me
I'll recall your safety scheme
You're the one who made the waves
And your Son went out to suffer in my place
And to tell me that I'm safe

Why am I down?
Why so disturbed?
I am satisfied in you

Jonah did not say sorry

We think we know the story. We have all read it in picture books and heard it in Sunday school: Jonah disobeys, Jonah says sorry, Jonah obeys. We need to be like Jonah. The end.

But Jonah did not say sorry, and he did not obey. At least not in the Bible.

Here are four things that are different in the true story:

1. Jonah's request to be thrown into the sea was an act of rebellion, not self-sacrifice.

Admitting he was wrong is very different from being sorry, and repenting. Jonah may have admitted the storm was his fault, but he wasn't sorry. Why didn't he ask God for forgiveness right away? If his intention was simply to save the sailors from the storm, why did he not jump off the ship himself? Why ask the sailors to throw him overboard?

This was not self-sacrifice; this was not obedience. He continued to run, this time pulling the sailors into his scheme. The sailors were not fooled. They were well aware that he was asking them to commit murder (Jonah 1:13-14). 

2. Jonah's prayer in the belly of the fish was self-righteous and self-centered. And he did not say sorry.

Most storybooks summarize the entire chapter two with one sentence: "Jonah prayed and said sorry for running away" or "Jonah prayed and asked God to forgive him."

But he didn't.

Chapter two contains no hint of repentance and no request for forgiveness. Instead, his prayer was about how good his was, comparing himself to the faithful and persecuted servant in Psalm 5 and 12. Quoting scripture in your prayer doesn't make it true. 

3. Jonah did not obey God after the fish vomited.

First, God gave the same command to Jonah a second time (this never happens to another prophet in the Bible). If God has to give the command again, it is not likely that he went straight to Nineveh as most storybooks would have us believe.

Second, Jonah did not proclaim God's message to the people in Nineveh. He might have told part of God's message: "In forty days, Nineveh will be destroyed." But he didn't even mention God's name! There is a distinct pattern in God's messages to those he loves and wants to rescue: Repent and believe. Jonah said none of those things. He didn't want to.

Yet, because God is God — the people repented and believed anyway!

4. Most stories end in Nineveh. But that is not the end!

Chapter four ties all it all together. It must not be skipped. Jonah throws a tantrum. A full-out, four-year-old kind of tantrum (except worse because he wasn't a four-year-old). If Jonah had repented and obeyed like most storybooks claim, why the outburst now?

Here, Jonah hung out his dirty laundry for all to see. We now know exactly why he disobeyed. Jonah ran away not because he was mad at the Assyrians or the Ninevites (Israel's enemies, as many storybooks try to explain). He was mad at God. Jonah was mad at God for being God—for being kind and patient, merciful and compassionate. The very reasons why he was still alive!

God is hero of the story. And we must tell the story, the whole story, and nothing but the story.


Update (April 8, 2015): Jonah continued to stay with me for years, patiently teaching me how to pray. He taught me how to say sorry. I wrote a more recent reflection on Jonah on the Gospel Coalition Blog. 

 

a beginning, not the end

{and how to get to know people}

After my post about how to act around people of the opposite gender, I received a lot of questions about one prevailing concern:

How do we get to know the other person? Doesn't that mean we need to spend more time with them? Didn't you talk to Hans a lot?

Me? Talking to Hans? A lot? What are you implying?

Of course we talked, a lot. But thankfully, Hans was very clear about his intention and commitment from the very beginning. We had two good things going for us (though they felt more like curses at the time). First, we lived in different cities up to our wedding day. The cellphone was pretty much all we had most of the time. Second, we were studying theology at very different graduate schools. So our discussions were often painful and ego-shattering, and often about things close to our hearts.

My cellphone wasn't able to get reception from my basement apartment. One night, I was standing under a tree, having one of these painful discussions. It started to rain and I didn't have an umbrella. Suddenly, I felt something on my shoulder. I looked, and there it was -- bird droppings. Just then, the battery died. I didn't even get to yell about my plight.

Getting to know people is not always fun.

A year later, Hans flew to New Haven for my birthday. We stood under the said tree. I had a strange feeling that he was going to propose right then. So, I walked away and demanded that he propose somewhere else.

So, how do we get to know the other person? This is an excellent question, because it is a very important question. How do were get to know anybody as a matter of fact?

Here are some thoughts that might be helpful:

1. There are many ways to get to know people that are neither intimate nor exclusive. Thoughtful listening goes a long way. Take mental notes. What do they care about? What is obviously important to them? What is obviously not important? How do they treat others? How do they talk to people? What do they talk about? How do they spend their time and money? Chances are, you are attracted (or not attracted) to him or her by something you have already observed.

2. When your commitment grows and marriage is a real possibility, time will provide some answers to more probing questions. What are their hopes and dreams? Where will their path take them? What do they love?

3. Becoming more like Christ is more important than finding the right person. When God made Eve, he did not hide her in the garden and tell Adam, "Go find her!" God created the man and the woman in his own image, and thus, they were drawn to one another. We become more like Christ by beholding him and obeying him. We become what we worship. In time and with much grace, we learn to love what Christ loves, and hate what Christ hates.

4. A wedding is a grand entrance, not a happily-ever-after. It is a beginning, not the end. I love that I am still getting to know Hans, nine years after our first conversation. I love that he still surprises me, that he is still a most interesting person to me. I love that he is still changing, still being transformed. Mostly of all, I am grateful to know whom he is following, whom he is beholding, and where this path will take us.

grace in the flesh

{and how to act around people of the opposite gender}

When we were very young, Pa was the pastor to three churches spread out in the interior parts of Borneo. He was gentle and kind, and very, very loud -- but only when he was preaching, praying, and singing hymns. His voice cut through the hot and humid air of those tropical sanctuaries.

Ma was my Sunday school teacher, at all three churches. No books, no pictures, no handouts. Just Ma, and Bible stories. She was very good at using her hands. She was captivating.

They were the faces, the hands, and the voices of grace. They were God's grace to me, in the flesh.

I should have paid more attention, listened more carefully. Pa and Ma were right about many things. There was one thing that my parents often pleaded with me, again and again. The one thing that I absolutely hated hearing.

Your sisters are watching you.
They are imitating you.
Please set a good example.

How I loathed these words. Like a death sentence! In one sense, they were a death sentence. My parents were asking me to live for my sisters' sake and not my own. It was a death that I did not want to die. Or more precisely, a death that I could not die, apart from the work of Christ.

To each her own, that was my motto. I did not want to live for my sisters' sake. So what if they were watching me? I did not want to live for them; I wanted to live for me.

Thankfully, the Lord had mercy on me. And he taught me how to die; I am learning very slowly. Fourteen, I think, was when I started dying. The only reason I can recall this time is because my sister Jean told me that I was nice to her -- for the first time in her life.

I know, what a monster!
The poor little sisters!

 

My role as the wife of a youth minister is very much like my role as a big sister. The difference is that I don't yell or make threats as much anymore. Little sisters ask a lot of questions. Lately, I've been getting many questions about boys. Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries! I always prefer to give principles, not methods. But sometimes, damage control is necessary; it comes with the job.

About interactions with the opposite gender, I tell my girls this: think like a person already married. I usually get looks of confusion, shock, and disgust. All at once.

Let me explain.

1. The book of Proverbs commands us to make Wisdom our first love. The beginning of wisdom is the fear of the Lord. The father instructs his son to pursue Lady Wisdom, to love her and not forsake her. Likewise, daughters are to pursue Wisdom -- in the face and the words of Christ.

Single or married, the object of our affection must first and foremost be Christ himself.

2. Jen Wilkin, a mom of two teen-aged daughters, puts it this way:

Here's the reality I want my girls to understand: The world is full of men-who-are-not-my-husband, but the world was full of those men before I ever met my husband. I wish I had had the wisdom to recognize this, and to live like I was married even before I was married: to guard my time, my speech, my dress, my thoughts, my actions jealously for the husband-who-was-to-come.

3. Feelings should be proportional to commitment. Feelings with no commitment is like water without a container -- it goes down the drain. The kind of things you do and the amount of time spend together should follow, and not get ahead of, the kind of commitment you have. The kinds of commitment can be that of a friend, a person you are considering for marriage, or marriage.  Most guys are just friends.

4. Usually, by this stage, the shock has worn off a bit and the girls are just confused. They are not married, so they don't know how to act as though they are already married. Then comes the comical part.

I hear myself repeating my own death sentence to the girls: Imagine me, think of me. These girls have known Hans and me for almost six years now. They have been watching us. They know that I am crazy about Hans (and that we are crazy in general).

Think of me when you are confused about the specifics. Should I go out for dinner with non-Hans alone? Should I chat with non-Hans for a few hours every night? Should I have a "close friend" who is not Hans? Should I go swimming with non-Hans alone? Should I wear that dress to impress a bunch of non-Hanses?

What do you think I would do? If you are not sure, you may ask.

Paul gave Timothy, the Corinthians, the Philippians, and the Thessalonians the same instruction: "Imitate me." At first, it may sound like such a presumptuous thing to say. Who was Paul to tell people to imitate him?

But then, we think of Paul, who loved the churches with the most difficult kind of love. Who lived not for himself, but for the sake of others. Who was crucified with Christ. Who no longer lived, but Christ lived in him. Nothing presumptuous here, just a man joyfully dying for the sake of others. He was showing us how to die well: Watch me, imitate me.

For this purpose, God gave us one another. The Church is the Body of Christ. The Church is the faces, the hands, the voices of grace. We are to love one another as Christ first loved us. We are to flesh out Christ for one another.

for no other reason

The boys were asleep; the house was quiet. All I could hear was the soft murmur of the air purifier and Hans' fingers on the keyboard. I sat on the bed and watched my husband. His back was facing me.

For a brief moment, I was there. I did not need to be seen or heard. I was not waiting for him. I did not have something to discuss with him, or ask him. I had no reason to sit in the room, except to be near my best friend.

Disinterested love. So this is what it feels like.
And then, as Hanan would say at the end of every prayer,
The End. (eeeeeeeeeee-aow!)
I was distracted. I was all interested in being disinterested.
A rare, fleeting moment.

I asked the boys to share a bowl of pasta the other day. Emeth quickly said, "I want to share the pasta." Not a bad response, I thought. And then he said, "Hanan doesn't have to share the pasta. I want to be kind. Hanan doesn't have to be kind."

My child did not want to share his act of kindness.

In so many ways, these little people instruct me to understand my own heart. My feeble attempts at love and kindness are each plagued with self-seeking thoughts. What is in it for me? What would I receive in return? Experience? Comfort? Recognition? Righteousness? A temporally appeased guilty conscience? Finishing your food, sleeping through the night, and everlasting gratitude would be nice.

My acts of kindness are rarely, if ever, joyfully disinterested.

Moulin Rouge got it all wrong. The greatest thing we will ever learn is not to love and to be loved in return. No. The greatest thing we will ever learn is to love, and not expecting to be loved in return.

God loved us in this way -- with a self-forgetting, self-sacrificial love. While we crucified him, rejected him, abandoned him -- Christ died for us. Greater love has no one than this, that we too may lay down our lives for our friends. With no regard for whether or not they will love us back. For no other reason, except to offer our love as an act of worship and obedience to Christ.

At the end of the day, there remains two kinds of worship. The worship of the supreme God, or the worship of self.

The worship of self is utterly invested and interested in the self. I offer these sacrifices to this deity because I want my crops to be plentiful next year. I worship my ancestors because I want protection. I want wealth. I want to get something out of the sermon. I want God to fix my life. I want to be healed. I want to feel loved. I want to feel something, anything. I want to go to heaven after I die.

I want. I want. I want.

True worship is never self-seeking. Because the worship of the supreme God is a response -- to everything he has already done, everything he is doing, everything he promised he will do. It is possible for worship to be disinterested because there is nothing left to want; Christ has provided everything. Or, as the Psalmist sings, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want." We worship for no other reason, except to be in his presence.

Among the exercises of worship, fasting is not my favorite. It gives no pleasure, it severely restricts, and our hunger makes us uncomfortably aware of our humanity. It is like prayer, except harder. Its discomfort and lack of immediate gain (if we follow the rules) is precisely what makes fasting a most suitable posture to offer to God worship that is not self-seeking.

When we fast, we wean our bodies from the need to satisfy our bodily hunger. We become living sacrifices, the living dead. We throw ourselves at mercy's path. We engage in the battle against our flesh.

We gain nothing, except the delight of communing with God. We fast for no other reason, except to be near God.

Take, Eat

Hunger. The first thing babies communicate to mom and dad: "I want food, and you." As the years grow, our hunger grows. Our wants multiply, our appetites become larger and more complex. We discover new kinds of hunger, deeper yearnings of the soul and mind.

We crave to be heard, to be validated, to be seen. We want to be perceived as strong, smart, and bold. We want to be the best -- at something, anything. Women love "how-to" lists. Give us twenty-five ways, in three steps, using one rule to make--something, anything--more delicious, more beautiful, more superior. And oh, and we want to be desirable, and gorgeous too, please.

As Eve was in the beginning, so are we. She was hungry for beauty, and she wanted to be wise. It wasn't enough to be like God, she wanted to be God. She wanted to make her own decisions, determine her own path.

So she took, and she ate.

When my sisters and I were little, a friend of my mother scolded her for the way she dressed her daughters. Why were her daughters not in ankle-length skirts? How could my mom allow her girls to wear pants? How dare her daughters keep their hair short? She tore my mother to shreds with her accusations. My mother was so forbearing, so gentle. Now that I have children of my own, I wonder what I would have done.

There was nothing modest about that friend's promotion of "modesty."

My Sunday school girls often ask me for the nitty-gritty when it comes to dressing modestly: What about a two-piece bathing suit? What if there are only girls around? What about a strapless wedding dress? What about certain brands of clothing?

I am encouraged that they are at least thinking about what they wear, but I resist to give them a yes-or-no answer. I give guidelines, yes, but I refuse to choose their wardrobe because true modesty is not just about clothes. Just as true frugality is not about money, and true fasting is not about food.

What I am most concern about is that we recognize the hunger and the desires that drive us. And we set our eyes on the Feast of Life, where we can find bread and water. Only there, can our hunger be satisfied.

Idolatry is our hunger for anything other than God. Sin is, as it was in the beginning, our sad attempt to stuff our hunger with deadly things.

We crave for people's praise, acceptance, and attention by the way we dress. We do this not only to attract the opposite gender, but also for the approval and envy of our peers. We want to claim a superlative of our own; to be the best -- at something, anything. To be the most daring, most in-shape, most fashion-forward, most expensive, most frugal, most weird. And yes, and even "most godly" and "most modest."

Some try to dodge this whole modesty question all together: "God looks at the heart, so what I wear is not important" or "I don't have a problem with modesty because I don't even care about what I wear."

But clothing is important to God.

Before Adam and Eve left the Garden, he knew his children were ashamed, and fig leafs were not enough. So, an animal was slaughtered and God covered Adam and Eve with its skin.

How Christians cloth ourselves brings glory to God because our clothing points to Christ, our perfect covering. The Lamb of God, who was slaughtered for the sins of the world. The way we dress is a simple act of love for our neighbors, our proclamation that we are Christ's disciples. And our obedience to Christ is a mark of our allegiance, our act of worship.

So, do not live on hungry souls. We fast with joy, knowing that our souls are filled and fed on the Word of God. We shop not on empty stomachs, but on hearts fully satisfied, knowing that our Treasure is great in heaven.

We are invited to the Feast of Life. Come, taste and see that the Lord is good. Be hungry no more.

The King of Glory extends his nail-pierced hands,
"Take, eat, this is my body, which is given for you.
Do this in remembrance of me."

__________


Here are the links to the series:
Part 1: In the Garden
Part 2: Shame
Part 3: Sackcloth
Part 4: Bridal garment
Part 5: Christ
Heart-Applications
Applications: Take Two

The Interruption: a Christmas play (epilogue)

As part of the Christmas celebration this Sunday, the young people will be contributing a play. I had so much fun writing the script, and even more fun watching them practice, I thought I would share it here. May your preparation this Christmas be a merry one.

EPILOGUE

That was more than 30 years ago. I am an old man now. Some years ago, I met this baby -- the son of Joseph the carpenter, Mary’s boy. Well, he was not a baby anymore.

People told me about this Jesus by whose touch the blind could see, and lame could walk. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to meet him, to hear him.

One day, I heard he was coming to Bethlehem. So I sat by the road and I waited. And waited. When I heard the crowd coming, I shouted as loud as I could: “Son of David! Son of David! Have mercy on me!”

To my surprise, he stopped. He touched my shoulder. And he said to me, “I was born in Bethlehem, did you know? Like you, my father and mother were beggars at Benjamin’s door. I've come back for you.” My heart swelled with so much joy at the sound of his voice; it hurt. This stranger knew who I was, though I have never met him. He said he came back -- for me.

He then asked me, “Do you believe that I can heal you?” With all the hope that was left in my heart, I whispered, “Yes, yes I do believe.” And then, he touched my eyes. And for the first time in my life, I could see. I saw his face smiling at me. I saw the face of God.

Wherever he went, I followed. Foxes have holes and birds have nests, but Jesus and his followers laid our heads on stones.

Jesus became a beggar, to save beggars like me. Jesus became homeless, to bring us home to the Father. God came in human flesh, to live with us, to die for us – so that we may have everlasting life.

Come to him, he came for you.

_____________

in the way of grace

Hans asked Emeth to close his eyes. In his hand held a sweet surprise. A morsel of chocolate-covered ice-cream. He planned to pop it into Emeth's mouth after his eyes were closed. It may not seem like a big deal, but to our three-year-old, it required a great amount of trust and faith in daddy. These days, "Why?" is a common response to the instructions we give to him. The request was simple: obey daddy and trust that daddy has only what is good for you in mind.

God asks his children to pray. Too often, however, our hearts rebel again this exercise and ask "Why?" What difference does it make? God is sovereign, so why does it matter whether we pray or not?

Prayer is not a shopping list; it is not a to-do list. It is not merely meditation, or a means of unloading our fears and worries. It is not even "just talking to God."

In the language of Jonathan Edwards, when we pray, we are placing ourselves "in the way of grace." I think of the centurion who asked Jesus to heal his servant, or the woman who touched Jesus' cloak, or the Canaanite woman who threw herself at Christ's feet for the sake of her daughter. They each placed themselves in Jesus' path, and their hope in his mercy.

Compare to the many other things we can be doing, praying can seem so -- unproductive -- because it is (on our part, anyway). It is as unfruitful as when the sons of Israel circled around Jericho again, and again, and again.

Prayer is a picture of how grace is to be received -- us on our knees doing "nothing." It is us living out our dependence on God, a realization that we can do nothing apart from him, and a proclamation that he has done everything for us. Praying is hard because it requires sacrifice, yet it yields no measurable result. Surrender with little honor. Hard work with no glory, especially having been asked to pray in the closet.

Prayer is a kind of death lived out,
a daily dying to self.

This way of grace, however, is also how we get to participate in God's work, and take part in God's joy. We get to. Like the four friends who believed. They made a hole in the roof and lowered their sick friend at Jesus' feet. They got to be a part of Jesus' miracle. They got to be a part of the story.

Close your eyes, darling,
and trust daddy.

On this outrageous joy

Our hearts were full as we drove home from church yesterday.

We had just sent three girls off to college with a (not-so-surprising) surprise party. They said they knew something was going on (thanks to my bad acting skills). But I think that they were at least surprised by how much their friends prepared for them at the party, and how much they laughed.

We laughed so much and so hard that my jaws still hurt. We had a few rounds of charades. The boys were the designated actors, while the audience guessed whom they were mimicking. And they were outrageous. A little mean, the way that brothers can be mean. But they were so funny, the way that only brothers can be funny.

My heart swelled with pride as I watched the three graceful young ladies received their graduation gifts before the church. So different from the eighth-grade squirrels I met five years ago. Squirrels with braces and ponytails. And on Sunday, they stood before me, like Ladies at the King's court.

And to think that I nearly missed out on this outrageous happiness.

Here a picture of me with some squirrels.

A few months before our wedding, five years ago, a Chinese immigrant church approached Hans and asked for help with their English ministry. Knowing that Hans was about to be married, they kindly gave Hans a few extra months to consider. This was one of the main topics of discussion during our honeymoon: to serve or not to serve.

I gotta say, I was not very enthusiastic about jumping into ministry. Especially so soon after our wedding. Hans and I never lived in the same city up to this point and I had hoped that we would spend a few months in our "newlywed bliss"... or something.

Foolishness, I'm now certain.

Hans was committed to be in ministry while we were in seminary. And here was a wide open door. So, he took me by the hand, and we walked in.

Looking back, this was the best way to begin our life as husband and wife. There is nothing like learning about the other person while being in ministry together.

Here is one from our early days at the church. Pre-Emeth-and-Yohanan.

I found myself in the book of Jonah the other day. Again.

Throughout the story, Jonah was whiny. When Nineveh repented, his grumpiness turned into outright anger--at God. Then suddenly, there was a change (albeit very brief ) -- the only point in the story when Jonah was actually happy. A plant grew and covered him from the sun. He was ecstatic.

I can relate to this, because I get whiny when I'm hot. There was Jonah, before a harvest that was plentiful, and he would rather sit under a plant and do nothing. Because it was shady.

I was Jonah. There I was, before a harvest that was plentiful, and I was dreaming about some obscure "newlywed bliss."  I wanted comfort and ease more than I wanted to do God's work.

I am still like Jonah, in so many ways. As it turns out, what I am most happy about is a pretty good indicator of the idols in my heart. Air-conditioner and my comfortable chair make me happy. An undisturbed nap schedule for my babies and relaxing weekends make me happy.

I am my own idol. I want to be my own god. I would rather serve myself.

I am so glad God was merciful and sent a worm to eat the plant (if you are confused--read the story! It's a good one).

If I had my way, we would have missed out on a bunch of delightful squirrels--beautiful ladies and gentlemen--whom we love, and we would have missed out on this outrageous joy.

Baptism, Easter 2007.

In search for love

Sunday School has been way too much fun lately.
The topic? Marriage.

Teach about marriage to high school students? None of them are even dating yet. But in actuality, this makes it so much more fun (for me). Because none of them are attached, there is little fear of hurting feelings or stepping on any toes. Just plenty of laughter and giggles all around.

Along the way, I giggled a little about Hans. I thought about why I married him; I thought about us, five years later, and what we have learned.

I recalled a silly conversation we had when we were dating (though I refused to call it "dating" for the same reason I refused to call him my "boyfriend"). I told Hans I didn't want to be called a "spouse" because it rhymed with "mouse". I did not mind being a "wife", even though it rhymed with "knife". But a "spouse" just sounded... bad.

You can say that I was seriously confused.

I had questions. Like, how do I know whether I was ready for a relationship? Or, how do I know whether he was "the one"? Should I just go by "feelings"? Because I felt pretty strongly about not wanting to be called a "spouse".

I think it would have been helpful if I had known what I was looking for. What the Bible teaches about marriage. What marriage should look like. What is the goal of marriage.

First, we went through Genesis 1-2, Ephesians 5, and Hosea 1-2. Then, we studied Proverbs (3:13-20; 4:1-9; and this week 8:12-36). Here, we read the words of a father teaching his son about life and love.

In search for love, the father does not give his son a list of things to look for. There is no mention of religion or ethnicity (things that would be important to the law in ancient Israel). Rather, his son is to pursue only one thing: Wisdom. In Proverbs, to have wisdom means to fear the Lord and keep his commandments.

In search for love, the son is not to be searching for love at all. Lady Wisdom is to be his first love, his best love. Wisdom promises to guard and keep him; she will love him and fulfill him. Love wisdom, and wisdom will teach him to love.

So, how do I know whether he or she is the right person for me? Love wisdom. Fear the Lord and keep his commandments. This, in actuality, applies to many of the questions we direct to God. What should I do in this relationship? How should I raise my children? What job should I apply for? Which college? What do you want me to do and where do you want me to go?

Love God and keep his commandments.
If we do not love the Father, we will not love his will and his ways.

We resemble whom we love. We become what we worship. In search for love, we love not love itself, but we seek after God. In doing so, we become like him. In him, we find love.

On Dying Together

{celebrating our fifth anniversary}

To say that I am not a very organized person would be an understatement. I am that person who borrowed Organizing for Dummies from the library and actually learned new things from it. What seemed to be common sense to others I had to learn by reading a book. It never occurred to me that I could collect all the pens on the counter top in a cup. The wonders of a container!

Hans, my very organized husband by nature, must have really loved me when he asked me to marry him.

When Emeth was an infant, the comments about his looks came largely from two groups of friends. Team A thought Emeth looked like Hans. Team B thought Emeth looked like me. And these two teams (at church) would have same debate week after week. I will always remember the day when someone (at the peak of one of these arguments) concluded that Emeth looked like both of us -- because Hans and I looked like each other.

That was probably the nicest thing anyone can say about me.

I attended one of my funerals -- at my wedding. Though I knew not the magnitude of my words, I died at the altar that day.

I died, in more ways than I understood. And I promised to be a new person, in more ways than I knew possible, with the one singing beside me. The amazing thing was that he promised to do the same. That he would die for me, to be with me, to be me.

Consider yourselves warned. Remember the magnitude of it all. For better and for worse, in marriage, the two resemble each other. Know well, and choose well, the person you want to resemble. Years from now, whom do you want to look like?

My love, thank you for these five years of dying together.
I take you to be mine, and I give myself to you
again.

Vampire, Werewolf, and Desires (a reluctant part 3)

I know, I know. Who knew there was going to be a part 3?! Vampires are so out of style. (See part 1 and part 2 from last year)

In my effort to think of an illustration for Sunday School, I could not resist. Alas, Sunday came and only four students showed up that morning (I am not bitter, obviously). One of the four was a boy who didn't even read Twilight (we appreciate you, Kevin!).

Oh well.

I wanted to make a point about idolatry, namely to discuss the differences between surface idols and deep idols. Surface idols are things like grades (you must understand that I teach Chinese high school students), money, family, careers, dreams, addictions. Deep idols are the cravings of our souls for approval, control, admiration, power, comfort, security, pleasure.

In one of the books, Bella was going back and forth between liking Edward the vampire and Jacob the werewolf. She was in despair (Oh, the agony!). And then, she discovered that she she was in love with both (this is where I resist the urge to pull my hair out).

Here was my point: The vampire and the werewolf were merely surface idols, Bella's deep idol was her desire for approval, admiration, and security. Or, in other words, she was in love with both Edward and Jacob because what she really wanted was something else.

Deep idols are the roots that hold the weeds; deep idols are the currents beneath the waves. Surface idols may look different from one person to another, or change depending on the stages of life, but so long as the root remains -- we are bound.

Jesus repeatedly warned his listeners against the love for money. Money serves so well as the surface idol to a variety of deep idols. For those who desire praise and admiration, they flaunt their money. For those who desire security, they save and invest. For those who desire power and control, money paves their path of influence. So for those of us who are frugal, we need to beware that we might be frugal precisely because we love money; or we love the control and security that being frugal gives us.

Therefore, fasting from coffee or facebook or chocolate or texting is not sufficient. Fasting might be necessary -- to wean us from a dependence on these things, but eliminating these things will not change our idolatrous hearts.

Purging must take place from within. Parting from our idols is a painful thing. This is where we scream, "but that's just the way I am" or "how I am wired" or "the way I was raised."

So, it is not enough to identify what I daydream about and what freaks me out. I then need to ask why. Why are these things so important to me?

The truth is, no amount of praise or control or power will ever satisfy. There is no lasting comfort or pleasure or security on this earth.  This tells us perhaps we were made for another world.

Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. -- C.S. Lewis

On Daydreams and Freaking Out

In preparation for Easter, our high school Sunday School class is purging -- the closet and our hearts. To help us see what needs to be purged, I am teaching a series on idolatry.

Growing up in Malaysia where Buddhism is a common religion, idols are ubiquitous in all forms and sizes. As a child, I remember being afraid whenever I saw distorted images of gods who reside on red altars. I did not realize at the time that idols reside best not behind incense and offerings, but on the altar of human hearts. My heart.

Violation of any commandment is always a violation of the first commandment: "I am Yahweh your God... You shall have no other gods before me."

When I am impatient, when I am unkind, or jealous, or proud, or selfish, I am worshiping something else; I am serving something else other than God. Something else has become more precious, more desirable than my Creator and Redeemer. Something else has absorb my heart and imagination. Unless I can say that I perfectly love Christ and I perfectly love others, I am idolatrous.

And I am.

Therefore, the question is not whether I have idols in my heart, but what are the idols, and the idols-in-making, of my heart?

To help us see the idols, with the hope of purging them, I asked the youth (and myself) a list of questions:

1. What are your daydreams? What fills your imagination? When you allow your mind to wander -- in the bus or on the highway or when you are doing the dishes, where do you go?

2. What are your hopes? What do you think would fulfill you? What is the next big thing that must happen to make you happy?

3. What gives you a sense of control, a sense of confidence, as you stride down the street? What gives you a sense of safety? What gives you a sense of identity?

4. What are your nightmares? What are your fears? What is the worst that can happen?

5. For whom or what do you make sacrifices? Looking at your expenses, where do you spend the most money?

6. What do you think would gain approval, recognition, and acceptance from people? What would give you success?

7. What do you freak out about? What are your strongest, most painful, uncontrollable emotions (guilt, anger, fear, etc.) and what is causing them?

{gathered and rephrased from different sources,

particularly Counterfeit Gods by Tim Keller}

Many of the answers are not necessarily evil. Some are likely very useful -- like education and jobs and homes and caffeine. However, we must treat them for what they are -- utensils. Some may even be rightly ours to keep -- family, parents, husband, wife, children. But none of these are to rise above God -- the one and only who is worthy of worship.

Dirt and Water Spots

Truth be told, my heart broke a little when I burnt the bottom of my dutch oven. I had lost my sense of smell due to a cold that day, and by the time I opened the lid -- my Bah Kut Teh (Chinese herbal pork-rib soup) was unsalvageable. I nearly wept, seeing the state of my beloved pot.

While the pot was soaking, Hans kept reminding me that it was "only a pot".
Never mind that it was his present for the fourth anniversary of our engagement. Never mind that I cried when he surprised me by hiding it in my kitchen cabinet. Never mind that I had imagined for years a dutch oven of my own -- in heaven.

But he is right. It is just a pot, not some antique porcelain vase in a museum. It wants to be used.

Today, thankfully, it sits prettily on my stove top. Useful for everything -- soups, sauces, roasts, stews, and savory pies. It survived the worst, bearing only a few scratches -- marks of a well-used, well-loved utensil.

Idolatry is worshiping anything that ought to be used, or using anything that is meant to be worshiped. -Augustine

The girls in my high school Sunday School class have each chosen one outfit to wear every Sunday until Easter. Some will refrain from shopping; all will be purging. An act of remembrance -- of Christ who is our perfect covering. An act of voluntary poverty -- remembering those who (involuntarily) have only the clothes on their back.

Perhaps by thinking while we put our clothes on, we simplify and purge the clutter of our hearts. A small gesture for such a mighty task, I know. But, sometimes we need signposts, however small, to remind us the direction we ought to turn.

Clothes are utensils. They are to be used responsibly. We are not to be mastered by our desire for beauty, slaves of our love for attention. Clothing functions to cover our nakedness; they are reminders that we are not who we were created to be. We put on clothes as a declaration -- Christ's death is sufficient for me.

Today, I was a spoon, a chair, a trampoline.
I was too many pieces of tissues, a pillow.
I was bread and water.

When we were walking to the playground, I stepped into mud. My poor shoes. During bath time, my shirt and pants were soaked, as always. Dirt and water spots -- the marks of motherhood. I am well-loved. 

Lord, please use me.

Things I Learned While Purging

A helpful step towards simplicity -- purging.
Here are some of the things I've been learning:

1. Purging can be fun, and a little addicting.
There lies a great satisfaction in seeing empty hangers and precious space.

2. The best part: The process requires me to be really, really picky.
Too small? Purge!
Too little? Purge!
Too many? Purge!
Too much? Purge!
Just plain ugly? Purge!
I haven't worn this for over a year. Purge!
There is always something else I would rather wear. Purge!

3. I had way, way too many turtlenecks.
Three white ones, two black, dark blue, gray, brown, purple, burgundy.
Lots.

4. Two pregnancies and two births later, my body has changed (no, I did not just learn this). And I decided that I don't like wearing turtlenecks anymore. Purge!

5. I like saying "Purge!" in my head (maybe this is the best part).
It makes me feel powerful. It's like saying to that piece of clothing "I refuse to be bound by you. Christ is my perfect covering. I do not need you. You mean nothing to me." Fun times, do you see? A little over the top, I realized, but it works to keep things moving along.

6. Black is not always slimming.

7. Fact about purging: Out of sight, out of mind.
I've purged about a third of my wardrobe, and not once did I think, "Oh, I wish I still have that!" Honestly, I can't recall most of the things I've purged.

8. Clothes no longer look attractive after the purge.
I saw some of the clothes I had donated hanging at the thrift store, and there was no part in me that found them at all desirable.

9. I kept many things "just in case I need them in the future."
I kept an ugly black skirt just in case I needed to go to a funeral.
Purge!

10. I was surprised by how easy it was to get rid of some things, and how hard it was to get rid of others.

 Christmas 1999

11. Things I found most difficult to purge were clothes that had been with me the longest.
You see that red skirt? And that brown top Evelyn is wearing? I still have those. The skirt because it reminds me of the last Christmas and Chinese New Year I celebrated in Malaysia (where all Christmas trees were fake). It also reminds me of the time when I turned down my dear friend Wini who wanted to borrow the skirt when it was still brand new (you can borrow it now, Wini!). As for the brown top, it was a present from Evelyn. These are happy, happy memories.
Among my other relics are a few long-sleeves shirts that Ma and Pa packed for me. They feared that I would be cold in the US.

12. I have the same struggle with some of my unrepentant sins -- the sins most difficult to purge are those that have been with me the longest.

The Necessity of Clothing (On Simplicity)

A while ago, I posted a few reflections on why we wear what we wear. I ended the series with some applications. I read the last post again today. I can barely recall anymore why I wrote some of the things I wrote.

So, here is another go.
And here is another resolution.

Resolved, to keep my wardrobe simple.

Simple.
Uncluttered, keeping only clothes that I regularly wear.
With a few "special occasions" items.
Clean, practical, pleasant to the eyes (especially of my husband).

(Hans is going to read this and know I have a lot of purging to do. *yikes*)

Simple.
So I would not allow what I wear to define who I am.

I am grateful to know a few older, godly women. One of them befriended me during my time in New Haven. When I first met Judith, I certainly did not think, "My, she dresses so modestly!" In fact, what she wore was of little significance to my first impression of her. Instead, I noticed how friendly, how kind she was to me. She asked thoughtful questions, and was genuinely interested in my responses. She invited me over for lunch, or tea, as she called it; she was from the UK. I remember feeling so comfortable, so grateful, so happy, even though our meeting was brief.

As I got to know her, spent time with her three children, and attended church with her family, I began to notice her wardrobe -- because there were very few items. She had two skirts, a few tops, a few pairs of pants, and a very nice pair of tall black boots. Simple.

Modesty and humility are very similar virtues. C.S. Lewis describes humility so well, in the following quote and elsewhere:

To even get near [humility], even for a moment, is like a drink of cold water to a man in a desert.
Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call “humble” nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody.
Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him.
If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.

(Mere Christianity, p.128 of this edition)

A modest woman would not be occupied by how modest she looks,
she would not be thinking about herself at all.

Now, there is something to aim for.


Here are the links to the series:
Part 1: In the Garden
Part 2: Shame
Part 3: Sackcloth
Part 4: Bridal garment
Part 5: Christ
Heart-Applications
Hunger: Modesty is not just about clothes

Sunday School

For four years now, Hans and I serve in a small English ministry of a Chinese immigrant church here in the suburbs of Chicago.

This morning, we officially launched a new Sunday School class and I was their appointed teacher. As usual, I was up last night preparing the materials for my class. As Hans was teaching the high school and college students (my former class), I was next door having a blast.

I had two students. One was extremely involved, responsive, attentive--best student ever, really. And the other slept through my entire lesson.

We read stories from Genesis. We colored. The picture of Adam and Eve had a butterfly, two giraffes, a rabbit, some trees, and a mouse. We sang. We learned a Bible verse. We ate snacks. It was fabulous.

This is the Sunday School class for ages two and under. I am Mommy, your Sunday School teacher.