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

A cure for the delusional

So I thought I was a pretty thankful person. I appreciated life, generally speaking.

When I complained (which was often), I tried to end my whining and groaning on a cheery note. e.g. "I am so grateful I get to learn about blah blah blah." Rule of thumb when whining: Always end with a smiley face. =)

To be sure, I was sincere, I think -- both with my smiley faces and the giving of thanks. But it wasn't hard to be grateful when things were going well. It's like when I thought I was a pretty good person back in high school.

A seventeen year-old me, laying in bed after school, reading fictions, writing in my journals about how life was not going the way I expected. No real responsibilities. No one depending on me. It was easy to think of myself as a kind, patient, and happy person.

My self-image was at best delusional.

As it turns out, I've been delusional about my sense of gratitude as well. For these past two months, the little conveniences of life were systematically removed, one after another. Some for a few weeks, some for a few days. I swallowed a fat slice of humble pie and it was not yummy.

My sense about what is lovely and wonderful has been redefined. Here are a few of my new favorite things, in case I forget this lesson and suffer from conceited delusions again (not too long from now, I'm sure).

1. A pipe under our kitchen sink was clogged with plaster.
Don't ever think, a home could work without a kitchen sink.
I love my sink, even when it stinks.

2. Refrigerator, often overlooked.
Without it, I could hardly cook.
And no cooking is no good.

3. There may be tantrums, big or small.
Our own walls now contain them all.

4. Hanan spilled yogurt smoothie all over himself two days in a row. I nearly laughed (but I didn't) because my husband just bought and installed my very first --
mean, lean washing machine!
It's shiny and it cleans!
And it makes me happy, like caffeine, and dark jeans.
The children calls it our TV screen (we don't own a TV).

I am reading one too many Dr. Suess books, I think, words that rhyme sound happier, somehow.

For the record, I am typing this while sitting at my very own desk, in my very own chair, with my own very own cup of Earl Grey -- for the first time since June 30. I never knew I loved being at a desk so much.

happy sigh.

I am grateful. =)

When to obey

Those who spend time with our family would hear me say this a lot: Obedience means that you obey now. Right away. Immediately.

Not after you think about it. Not in a little bit. Not when you are ready to obey. The only time that is appropriate for obedience is the moment you receive the instruction, not when you decide you want to obey.

Oh how difficult is this lesson! And how deceitful is the heart.

I do the exact thing I am teaching my sons not to do. Seeing my own foolishness in them stirs in me much annoyance -- and much fear -- as I know exactly where this path leads. Been there. At the same time, it also stirs up compassion for their little souls, and the urgency to steer them away.

They must learn to heed my voice, and trust in my love for them. Obeying right away can be the difference between life and death. And yet, I am somehow able to justify that my own sin is not as deadly.

When God instructs, I beg for more time. Or, I demand more time. Or, I simply ignore his commands. What makes it worse is that in my delay I start basking in my self-righteousness and consoling myself with my OK-ness. When the truth is that I am as OK as a four-year-old walking accross a busy intersection, and as safe as a two-year-old opening the door of a burning oven.

Well, at least I am aware that I need to be more consistent in my prayer life, or reading and meditating God's Word. Next year, I will serve and participate more at church. I promise I will be more hospitable or more patient after my pregnancy, or when the kids are older. I will reach out to that person at church when I finish this project. I will be more faithful in my church attendance after this season exams or (activity of your choice). I will put an end to this fling after graduation, it's not like I am going to marry him. I promise I will stop wasting time. This is the last (fill in the blank) I will ever watch. I need more time to think about getting baptized. This is a big decision! This is so hard! I am sure God understands.

Promising to obey is not obeying. Thinking about obeying is not righteousness. If I am not obeying right now, I am not obeying. Like Jonah, my prayers can be so full of conceit and deceit when the only prayer acceptable to God is the prayer of repentance.

I know I am asking my children to do a hard thing. An impossible thing, in fact. Immediate obedience requires death. To deny our own understanding, intuition, curiosity, and desires, and simply trust in the wisdom of our Father.

Thanks be to God that Christ has first demonstrated his obedience to the Father on the cross. The great shepherd laid down his life for his sheep. I can stand before the throne of grace only because I am covered in his blood, clothed in his obedience.

Hananese

Hanan, who has been fairly quiet in the past two years, suddenly decides it is time to start talking. He has been telling us about the little person he is becoming, and we've been enjoying getting to know him.

At 26-months, Emeth was obsessed with wildlife, stories about trains, and the characters in those stories. Little brother also loves trains, but for entirely different reasons. These two boys are growing within the same walls, yet they are worlds apart.

Hanan is more of an abstract thinker. He is obsessed with numbers and colors and shapes. He takes things apart (sometimes permanently) and analyzes how they work. Turning wheels, pushing buttons, making music, and eating are among his favorite things. He adores his big brother, and says "hi ge ge!" and "thank you ge ge!" about hundred times a day.

Distracted. Always.

What I do when mommy says, "smile!"

In celebration of his aunties week-long visitation tomorrow, here is a glossary of some of my favorite words by the little bear.

waji - H2O

meee!!! meeeee!!! - MORE!!!!!!

eye or winkle winkle winkle - star.

pah-mei - please

te-te - a shape with three sides

ku-air - a shape with four sides

gle -  a shape with four sides, two sides are longer than the other two.

pen-gon - a shape with five sides.

ok-gon -  a shape with eight sides.

hoyee hoyee hoyee - my favorite song.

hoyee God in love be cake - (emphasis on cake) my other favorite song. (I have a lot of favorite songs)

buchen - mommy's heart when I disobey. This also happens to most things I take apart.

thona - the very useful engine. What I sleep with.

wowo - canine creatures. The other thing I sleep with.

mana - long yellow fruit, my new love.

turtle - not what you think. What mommy uses to wrap burritos.

crapper - crunchy cheesy things (crackers).

pah-per - what mommy changes when I go to the bathroom.

sillay, farnay - what I say when people are trying to make me laugh.

enenen - the number after ten, rhymes with seven.

ka-ga-mee - what I say when I need reassurance that I am not alone ("cover me")

haa-jee-ga - what I say when I need a hug

ge-ge pee ge - what I say when I want something from big brother

ding! - you and me, we are the same! (when he has a similar cup, cap, etc. with another person)

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