Repenting of my repentance

I am a mom of three boys. I know this to be true: Clothes get dirty. We are hopelessly attracted to dirt and puddles, chocolate and jam. We spill milk; we get bloody noses. From morning to night, I take off, I wash, I put on. Repeat. The laundry basket is never empty.

The fullness of the laundry basket reminds me of the fullness of grace (and how I should not procrastinate). The mundane task of changing and washing points me to the ceaseless and necessary work of repentance.

Christ will one day clothe his Bride with fine linen, bright and pure (Revelation 19:8). On this side of eternity, however, my linen is never white. Even my tiniest sacrifices, moments of selflessness, are drenched with selfish and prideful thoughts. In the words of the Puritans, “my best prayers are stained with sin; my penitential tears are so much impurity… I need to repent of my repentance; I need my tears to be washed” (The Valley of Vision, 136-137).

When I lack the words to pray, I lean heavily on the words of men and women who walked before me. I return to this prayer again and again. Written during a screen-less time, the prayers of the Puritans are steeped in word pictures. This one is soaked in the imagery of rags and robes, reminding me that Christ is my best robe, my perfect covering.



O God of Grace,
You have imputed my sin to my substitute,
and have imputed his righteousness to my soul,
clothing me with a bridegroom's robe,
decking me with jewels of holiness.

But in my Christian walk I am still in rags;
my best prayers are stained with sin;
my penitential tears are so much impurity;
my confessions of wrong are so many aggravations of sin;
my receiving the Spirit is tinctured with selfishness.

I need to repent of my repentance;
I need my tears to be washed;
I have no robe to bring to cover my sins,
no loom to weave my own righteousness;
I am always standing clothed in filthy garments,
and by grace am always receiving change of raiment,
for you always justify the ungodly;
I am always going into the far country,
and always returning home as a prodigal,
always saying, "Father, forgive me,"
and you are always bringing forth the best robe.

Every morning let me wear it,
every evening return in it,
go out to the day's work in it,
be married in it,
be wound in death in it,
stand before the great white throne in it,
enter heaven in it shining as the sun.
Grant me never to lose sight of the exceeding sinfulness of sin,
the exceeding righteousness of salvation,
the exceeding glory of Christ,
the exceeding beauty of holiness,
the exceeding wonder of grace.

The Valley of Vision, 136-137.

My anti-honeymoon treatise

{For Cat and Gideon on the night before they leave for their honeymoon}

I recently re-read an email I wrote to Hans before our wedding -- my reflection on the concept of "honeymoon." I was hilarious, and not in a good way. I was opinionated and emotional (I still am). To this day, I wonder why he married me.

We should rid ourselves of this ridiculous concept of honeymoon all together!!!  It gives a false notion that the beginning of marriage is the best portion -- what an extremely perverted view of marriage!  The truth is, we, by grace, should strive to resemble Heaven more and more as we progress and grow in our love. Our affection should more and more reflect God's intertrinitarian love.

To call the first portion of marriage our "honeymoon" is unhealthy and misleading. Our true honeymoon, the sweetest days of our lives, should be the last few days of our earthly lives.  I shall look forward to them, and ask God that upon our death bed, we would be the versions of ourselves that most resemble our dear Savior. I hope that at the moment right before we die, our love for one another will most reflect Christ's love for us.

Apparently, I wanted our honeymoon to take place, not right after our wedding, but on our death bed. How morbid!

So, I insisted that we call the trip after our wedding "lobsterstars." Because we ate lobsters by the roadside. We ate with our fingers, with lemon and corn, and had them several nights in a row throughout the trip.

We made memories, our first memories together as husband and wife. We climbed a few hills, got lost in our canoe, caught in the rain, and fell into the lake. We had many serious conversations, a few disagreements, and laughed a lot.

I have no recollection of what we were trying to do.

We just got back from our big trip to Minnesota, celebrating Cat and Gideon's wedding. Traveling with three children, five years old and under, was no walk in the park. We made new memories, some I would rather forget. Sometimes, we were utterly exhausted. Even so, I can honestly say that I experienced more joy on this trip than I did during our honeymoon, or, whatever that was.

I have a few favorite moments from this trip. Among them is the seven-hour conversation we had in the car on our way home. I enjoy my husband, admire him, and appreciate him more now than ever before. Not because we are any less sinful, but I think that we have learned to be quicker in repenting and forgiving one another. We have learned to be a little better at listening and understanding each other, becoming less defensive and more trusting. And the Lord, in his mercy, gives us joy when we obey his commands.

I had very little idea about marriage and everything related to it when I wrote that anti-honeymoon treatise. I might have overstated a few things. But I am so glad I saved that email, if only for the pleasure of laughing at myself.

Time away from the normal grind of things are helpful for us to evaluate where we have been, where we are now, and where we are going. Stripped away from the busyness of life, we are better able to see, listen, and understand one another. These are perhaps the most precious aspects of our honey-lobster-moon-and-stars, every single one, until death do us part.

Mission accomplished

{my gift for the bride and groom at their wedding feast}

Yee Ling, one of my earliest memories of you was how often you got lost. We would be at the mall, and you would suddenly disappear. As you can now imagine, this was quite unsettling for Ma.

So, she decided to put you on a leash.

It was pink. Ma tied it around your waist at the airport for fear that we would lose you among the throngs of people.

I was ten at the time and you were two. I felt horrible seeing you on a leash, so I begged Ma to take it off. I promised her that I would watch you instead.

Since then, we, your three older sisters, have been watching you.

Gideon, now that you are married to Cat, please make sure she does not get lost! And know this: her three older sisters are watching you.

No, seriously, we will be watching over, and praying for both of you. We are now family. And we are so excited.

My sisters made me cry at my wedding when they sang this song. They made me looked like a baby frog. I feel the need to reciprocate (the song, not the tears). So, I rewrote the lyrics. And here it is.

What made you hug me even in your sleep
Or give me these pearl earrings to keep?
What made you let us take all the best toys
Or babysit my three crazy boys?

Chorus
Why do you always try to be there
when we really, really need you there to care?
You're always willing to share.

Love makes a Meimei be a Meimei like you
Love takes genetics and turns them into
Something to last eternity through
Love makes a Meimei be a Meimei like you


What made you brave and gave yourself away?
What made you say yes, and asked Gideon to stay?
Sharing the feelings that you held inside
No longer keeping secrets that you have to hide

Chorus

Cat cried.
Mission accomplished.

Happy wedding day, baby sister.
We're still here, and we're not going anywhere without you.

love,
jieji

I am yours, save me

At the lowest point of our wedding planning, I laid on the floor of my apartment, face down, praying, chanting, "I am yours, save me. I am yours, save me." We were weighing the theological implications of a detail in the wedding liturgy. The decision was one among hundreds, but its implications were weighty.

We are the sum of our decisions. Thousand upon thousands of decisions, chiseling away at our souls, shaping our personhood. Every decision that I make today -- what I have for breakfast, which books I read to my children, every word I utter, how much time I sit, I stand, what I allow my eyes to see, the thoughts I allow in my mind, the minutes I waste -- they change me, little by little. With every decision, I am becoming and changing the person I will be tomorrow.

So, if you are wondering who you will grow up to be, look in the mirror. If you don't like what you see, change. Now. You are the sum of your decisions, including the ones you make today.

Our wedding day was the sum of many, many decisions. These decisions reflected who we were, what we loved, what we believed. If the wedding feast was a small world filled with our favorite things, the wedding liturgy was a space that embodied our theology of worship and marriage.

So, there I was, overwhelmed and defeated on the floor. I thought I was writing a wedding liturgy, but really, I was doing something so much bigger and I didn't even know it. I was forming my beliefs about God, worship, and marriage. I was asking big questions about timeless truths.

Figuring out our theology is hard, but living it out is even harder. Many throughout the history of the Church fought to their deaths for the sake of their creeds.

No, I did not die on my wedding day. Or did I?

My baby sister is getting married, and she is asking me questions about veils, songs, and such. These posts about weddings are my feeble attempts at helping her from a distance. So, here goes.

Big idea number one: This is worship.

Your wedding has an audience of one. Not two, not three, not two hundred. Just one. You have nothing to prove to anyone else. So, breathe.

A wedding ceremony is primarily a worship service, where a bride and a groom make vows to keep one another before God. Everything else is decoration.

Together, we respond to what God has done, what he is doing, what he will do. We give thanks, we praise, we surrender, we submit, we repent, we rejoice under the Lord's mighty hand. You have chosen to enter the front door of your happily ever after -- worshiping God. And this is an awesome thing.

Big idea number two: A Christian wedding proclaims the Gospel. A Christian wedding is about the Gospel. The bride and the groom point to something far, far greater than themselves. In the words of Apostle Paul: "'Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.' This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church."

Earthly marriages point to Christ and his bride. Christ proposed not on bended knees, but with outstretched arms. Not with a diamond ring, but with his shed blood for our sins. He died in our place.

Christ, the groom, is waiting for his bride. He is our bridal garment of righteousness. He has made the aisle upon which we shall walk. He will come again to take us away to be with him. He will be our new home. There, he will wipe away every tear from our eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain.

I am yours, save me.

He saved me then.
He saves me still.
He will save me again.

Beyond death

Hans wrote my wedding vow. And I wrote his.

I made Hans promise all sorts of things I wanted. My first draft included several mentions of death. I wanted him to promise to follow Christ unto death. Here was my logic: If I had to follow to this guy, I had to make sure I knew where he was going. Thankfully, he convinced me that we should look beyond death. Our hearts should be set on the forever.

He was right.

I remember feeling quite nauseous at the thought of writing another person's vow. I was uncomfortable with having that much power over another human being. Funny. Because, at the time, I had very little idea just how much power our marriage would have over our souls. This power is now mine to wield everyday of our lives together. I hold it with much fear and trembling.

So, as the meaning of these words continue to unfold in our lives, we place each other in the way of grace, before the throne of God.

His vow

By the mercy and grace of our Lord, the triune God, I take you to be my lawfully wedded wife.

By the grace of God, I shall seek after him, to love the Lord our God with my whole heart, mind, and strength. I shall submit to him, incline my desire to him, and follow where he should lead us, seeking after the fulfillment of our sure hope of the perfection of our faith. I shall follow the example that our Lord gave us, seeking to love you as Christ love his Church and gave himself for her. I will lead you in the path of righteousness, for his name's sake, that you may become the woman that God desires you to be.

I shall not leave you nor turn away from you. I will set you as a seal upon my heart and as a seal upon my arm. I take you to be mine, and I give myself to you.

My vow

By the mercy and grace of our Lord, the triune God, I take you to be my lawfully wedded husband.

By the grace of God, I shall seek after him, to love the Lord our God with my whole heart, mind, and strength. I shall submit to you as to the Lord, recognizing that the Lord has made you my head, as Christ is the head of his Church.

Entreat me not to leave you, or turn back from following you; for wherever you go, I will go; and wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if anything but death parts you and me.

I will stir up and awaken your love for me, and enjoy you as the husband God has provided to me. I take you to be mine, and I give myself to you.

15 things I loved and learned during our wedding feasts

{a reflection on the week of our seventh anniversary} 

1. It was my wedding!
Weddings -- the bookends of the Bible. God himself "walked Eve down the aisle." The marriage feast of the Lamb is the culmination of redemption history. Jesus performed his first miracle at the wedding of Cana. My wedding was a big day.

2. But it was just my wedding.
We have had countless better days since our wedding. Our wedding was awesome. I smiled. I cried. It was beyond our expectations. But since then, there was Emeth's birth, and then Yohanan's birth, and then Khesed's birth. And many awesome days in between. I haven't looked at our wedding pictures in years.

3. It was our front door, not the house, not the foundation, not the garage. It was a front door and front doors are important. It was the beginning of our lives together, but it does not define our marriage.





4. Disclaimer: Here, I'm mostly talking about the feasting and the hotels and the transportation and the photography and the invitations and the menus and the flowers. I'm NOT talking about the liturgy, or the worship service, or the exchange of vows. That would require another post all together.

5. They were the firsts of many, many dinner parties we hosted in our home. Planning a wedding required the skills of basic hospitality -- on steroids. We created a little world filled with our favorite things and invited our favorite people to share and enjoy this world with us. At the end of the day, it was about loving our neighbors. That is all.

6. What were our favorite things? It was important to us that we were generous. So, we had two feasts -- one on the night before the wedding and one on the night of the wedding. Because our friends came from all over the world, we wanted the food to be international. Many wore their national garments and the colors were spectacular. We wanted it to be communal and we (mostly crazy Irene) wanted to have a pot-luck, until I realized that it would not be realistic with 200 guests. So, in the end, though the ladies in the community made a lot of the food, I also hired a caterer to prepare the first feast, and two of the five courses for the second feast. I wanted an open tent where strangers, joggers, and random people were welcomed to join the feasts.

7. It took a village. I had the help of a group of ladies who were more organized than myself. They kept me focused. They forced me to delegate.

8. Trust people. People were awesome and they had awesome ideas. I was very loved by my village. People brought flowers. People moved chairs and tables. The bridesmaids chose their own dresses. The children cleared the table after each course. People may not do things the way you would, but trust them anyway. Because people are awesome.

Lev and Vova, the boys who are now young men, from Russia.

9. People were sometimes frustrating. They made mistakes and they forgot things. But it was important to let them know we appreciated and trusted them.

10. It was good to have a plan and expectations. But it was also good to hold them loosely.

11. Every dinner party produces mess and dishes. Don't ever forget about the clean up. Ever.

12. Yes, I was that bride who forgot to plan the clean up. It completely slipped my mind. I had just graduated two days before the wedding. I was a busy bride. Everything up to the wedding was about getting things done, and getting things set up, and getting things there. I had completely forgotten that things needed to be removed once the wedding was over.

Trust people.

 13. Hiding, crying, and a nervous breakdown was acceptable -- once the wedding was over. Hans hid me in the closet of his parents' room. I sat there and cried out of sheer exhaustion.

14. People got things done even when I had forgotten to delegate. It took a village. People were awesome.

15.  It was the coolest, most complicated dinner party ever. And I enjoyed every second.

Because it was my wedding.
But it was just my wedding.

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.